Outside In

As a recent graduate in the class of 2022 at the local high school, Peter had managed to finesse a job at the airport as a baggage handler. It was his job to help confused travelers to their gates, direct tired tourists to their ride, or hunt down stray suitcases for the passengers. He had been extremely proud to have grasped this opportunity- while his classmates were busy partying or roaming the streets for a good time, he was prioritizing his future by saving up money for college.

Today, exactly one week after his graduation, he reported to work at 8 AM on the dot to take over the morning shift. Around this time, the airport began to buzz with travelers as they flooded through the TSA checkpoints one by one. Despite having been trained under the guidance of veteran handlers, the sheer number of people began to overwhelm Peter, and soon, he started sweating and fell numb.

Though, Peter thought, there is probably no one paying attention to him and his very visible anxiety. Nowadays, everyone is on their electronics- whether it’s the latest Iphone for the parents, the newest tablet model for the kids, or the countless Ipads set up at every seat in every restaurant, booth, store, and gate area. As the people poured through security, each furiously checked their United Airlines or Delta app for the gate number and check-in time.

Peter sighed; he wished to go back to the days when people did not look so unapproachable with masks. While he understood that they were for safety purposes, the roving crowd’s masked men and women reminded him of something from a dystopian sci-fi film. While he was immersed in his thoughts, a maskless elderly man approached him.

“Excuse me young man, but would you be able to take me to my gate in your ride?” the man cordially asked, gesturing at Peter’s baggage cart and his own suitcases.

“Ye-yes sir, of course I can,” Peter immediately replied, surprised that his unapproachable figure would attract a customer. While loading the man’s suitcases onto the cart, Peter quickly evaluated him: the elderly man was no older than 80, but no younger than 70. His eyes filled with years of experience, yet, despite his maturity, they gleamed with the remnants of youthfulness- the spark of ambition and adventure still persevered. His white hair and slower movements testified to his age yet his confident voice and the sharp way he looked in a suit spoke to his youth and connection to younger generations.

“Hmm, I see your gate is Gate 24C,” Peter read to himself; he quickly did a mental check of where the gate was and realized it was at the end of Terminal C. “Sir, it's gonna be a while till your gate, so let me know if you need anything” Peter announced as he began to drive. The man nodded.

On the way, they passed numerous gates and restaurants, with surprisingly silent crowds. Everyone’s attention was focused on their phones or tablets while the masks seemingly solidified their social isolation

Behind him, Peter heard a loud sigh. “These darn devices, no one even bothers to talk to each other anymore,” the man muttered under his breath,

Peter looked behind, “Well sir, it is true that people spend mad time on phones and stuff but like, its, you know, a way to have fun, stay entertained, and talk to others. People still talk to each other a lot.”

“Really? I’m… not so sure about that. Actually, I decided to take this trip to rethink some things that have been going on recently”

“Is everything good?”

The man fell silent, his eyes looked up as droplets of tears slowly came. “W-well, my wife re-recently passed away.”

“Oh my- I’m so sorry! I-I promise I didn’t mean to ask”

“No, no- its okay. That’s not why I came. Let me explain.” He took a deep breath. “Here goes:

My son, h-he’s 17, so around your age.. Kids these days, you know, they're always obsessed with their devices. So for his birthday, me and my wife bought him the latest Iphone because he has been getting all As’ in school. My family used to be a lot poorer before I found a job in the city so the best we could do for my son was give him a flip phone.

Needless to say, he’s never touched social media, YouTube, online mobile games and that crap. He was always focused on school and loved reading. But when we got him that new phone, he became obsessed with it- he immediately downloaded that Tiktok, Instagram, and whatever was the popular game was at the time.

When in the past, he loved to spend time with us- consistently eating meals, going out for family walks, or conversing in the living room, he now opts to stay locked in his room to spend countless hours on Tiktok.”

“Well, is it cause he’s studying? There’s mad work and AP season is tough.”

“Yeah. At first, we thought it was that. We would never want to interrupt his studies. But one day, he forgot to lock his door. My wife walked in on him watching some- some graphic videos. In her moment of anger, she exploded on him- she began screaming and yelling. Then I walked in, and I was furious- literally seething with anger. You see, we aren’t really religious people; I believe that there probably is a god somewhere, but the main issue that is that we believe these videos ruin your morals and standards. Our son knows this, and yet deliberately broke the rule.

He also blew up on us, saying that we didn’t give him enough freedom and that we didn’t trust him enough. The thing was, we- as the parents who raised him- could tell that he was addicted. Only addicts would have such a response. And in a fit of anger, my wife took his phone, marched to the balcony, and chucked the phone out. She said, ‘you must learn that actions have consequences.’

Then- then, my son, he-he, he jumped out of the bal-balcony to chase the phone. We lived on the fourth floor” The tears that the old man was holding back flooded out, almost like the floodgates in a dam were opened.

Peter grimaced in sadness. He suddenly felt a wave of pity overwhelm him over the death of a complete stranger. The silence that ensued after the old man said ‘fourth floor’ was deafening.

“In grief, my wife soon fell sick and died. She blamed herself over our son’s death and she wouldn’t listen when I tell her that its not her fault. Even now, I question if it was our faults. I think, ‘what if I set limits on his screen time,’ or ‘what if I talked to him more and spent more time talking.’ These questions have persisted in my head for so long.” The old man looked up and began to wipe his tears as his gate came into view.

Peter silently assisted the old man in handling his luggage. While the old man was slightly embarrassed after having shared such a personal matter with some cart driver, Peter was glad that someone was comfortable enough to open up to him. Before the old man began boarding the plane, Peter said “Hey, this might not mean much, but, I really appreciate you for telling me this. I promise, its gonna get better even if you don’t think so. I also promise you that its not yours, or your wife’s fault- y’all did your very best to raise him.” Peter looked down at his hidden phone in his pocket. “Yeah, sometimes I do wish these phones and social media didn’t exist.”