Enemy of Ignorance - A Short Story

 
Window onto tarmac
 

He sat at the bar on a swiveled old stool. It was a dimly lit place. The smells of liquor and spiced cologne scattered beneath red shaded, billiard lamps hanging above. The current ball game played on a flat screen while the locals made their menial comments they must have thought were important enough to share.  Charlie leaned across the sticky counter to the bartender. 

            “A Bloody Mary, please. Extra olives.”

His drink came to him in moments. After a few sips, he sat there twirling his toothpick. 

            “What’s the bag for?”

The bartender called out to him. Charlie looked up and then back down to the bag at his feet, pretending that he had forgotten it was there.

            “Oh right. Leaving the country.”

            “Why?”

            “Does someone need a reason to leave the country?” 

The bartender didn’t answer. He just continued his business. 

Charlie called back out. “I’m leaving to get away. Anywhere is better than here. I always said that travel is the enemy of ignorance.”

The bartender cleaned a glass as he leaned into him. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying your drink.”

            “I don’t believe that I said I was.”

Charlie shook his head at the man’s simplicity and clicked his phone to see his flight information.

#

The hum of the airplane turbines vibrated beneath him. Charlie thought there was a sort of soothing sensation to flying on a plane at night. He turned his reading light on despite his lack of reading materials. 

The older gentleman next to him shuffled awake. 

            “My apologies, sir.” Charlie quickly turned out the light.

            “No. Not a problem at all.” The gentleman gave out a yawn.

            “Just a little anxious, I suppose.”

The gentleman rubbed his eyes. “Nervous flyer?”

            “Oh, no. No. I’m-- I never have been out of the country. My family have been homebodies their whole lives. Never wanted to explore the world. But I’m changing that today.”

The gentleman smiled. “The travelin’ man. Making his way to Manhattan, America's gateway.”

            “That’s right.”

            “Well, you’re in good company. Traveling is the enemy of ignorance.”

“Ignorance.” Charlie trailed the last word as the gentleman spoke it. He leaned forward in his seat, almost too excited to get the words out. “I’ve always said that. That’s exactly what I don’t want to be. Like the rest of the folks back in Sutton. My family wanted to stay apart to the world. But where can you go from there? You don’t.”

The gentleman pressed his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. “Sounds about right.”

            “If man was meant to evolve, we won’t move on to the next stage unless we go out into the world and seize it!”

Almost motionless, the gentleman said, “Well, you’ll be seizing soon, my friend. We’re almost there.”

#

Charlie stepped out of John F. Kennedy Airport onto the wet pavement. Smog and the smell of gasoline filled the air.

He took a deep breath and smiled.

Charlie hopped in a checkered cab and drove further into the city. Skyscrapers and steel bridges loomed over his eyes. He took out his phone and was tempted to text his parents. He reconsidered, wanting to enjoy this moment of freedom.

The cab pulled up to the curb on a busy New York street and walked in through a battered, red door.

It was a dimly lit place. The smells of liquor and spiced cologne scattered beneath red shaded, billiard lamps hanging above. The current ball game played on a flat screen while the locals made their menial comments they must have thought were important enough to share.  Charlie sat down at a swiveled old stool and leaned across the sticky counter to the bartender. 

            “A Bloody Mary, please. Extra olives.”

Jonathan Elmore