The Departures Board

Istanbul. Rome. Rio de Janeiro.

Marie stood in front of the departure screen, lightly bouncing on her toes. She pulled out the well-worn black notebook from the bag slung across her back and stared at the mostly blank first page. 

This is crazy. What am I even doing here? I’m really doing this, aren’t I? When she had woken up this Monday morning she had never thought that she would find herself at the airport bag in hand and about to start the craziest adventure in her life. And it all started with that phone call. 

Marie could barely even remember her great-aunt, the woman who she had been named after. All that came to mind was a stern-faced but quiet woman that she had seen maybe three times before, the last time being at Chanukah over ten years ago. I think it was twelve years ago. Her great-aunt had not been close to the family for decades, even before Marie was born. Nothing out of the ordinary for this family. Her mom was distanced from her family and the two of them were not really on the best of terms. Her mom didn’t cry often but hearing her on the phone was heartbreaking. I didn’t realize how close they were. 

She shook her head and looked at the three words written on the first page. The words were written in handwriting that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Istanbul. Rome. Rio de Janeiro. Places she had not thought about in a long time. It was the first time she had looked at the first page of her notebook in years. Since he died.

She felt a twinge of guilt and looked back at the board. Do something good with the money. That was all her mom had said to her when she had called to say her great-aunt had died. Marie had been more shocked that she was included in the will at all either rather than hearing of her aunt’s death. Twenty thousand dollars. Compared to how much she made at her current shitty job, it was a million dollars. Former job. It took less than ten seconds after getting off the phone with her mom for her to call into work and quit most spectacularly. Never again would she have to work that thankless job and staple a fake grin on her face interacting with her demon of a boss. I can just imagine her face when I was cursing her out. It was the first thing she thought to do when she got the call. 

The second was to pack a bag and rush to the airport. I need a change. That phone call was the first time in years that she had been excited about life. Day in and day out it was the same thing for years now. Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Life had become a dismal cycle of increasingly lower lows. She had drifted away from her friends after university and her social life had deteriorated after that. She knew she had closed herself off from everybody after her dad died. Everything had just felt numb after that day. What was the point?

So here she was, an hour after arriving at the airport, standing in front of the same departures board, trying to decide how to change her life. Istanbul. Rome. Rio de Janeiro. Cities with so much history and excitement behind them. Places that represented something else. She had spent years avoiding hearing even the slightest bit of news about them. Too many memories. 

There was a sinking feeling in Marie’s stomach, a feeling like she was making the wrong decision and that she had destroyed her whole life on a whim. She looked over her shoulder, back at the door. I can claim temporary insanity, go on short-term leave and get my job back. Who am I kidding? This isn't me. She took a step towards the door. Should I have given the money away to charity? Am I being selfish here? She looked at the names in her notebook and sighed. Surely this isn’t what my mom had in mind. Or even my great-aunt when she wrote me into her will in the first place. It had seemed like the obvious choice when she had first hopped into the cab, but here, standing in front of the departures board, she was torn. Istanbul. Rome. Rio de Janeiro.

Marie remembered the day she had first written these names down in her notebook. Her dad had just given it to her and the two of them had sat in front of the television that winter day and they spent hours watching travel documentaries. Her dad was always the most animated whenever they spoke about traveling elsewhere. His eyes would light up and they would talk for hours about when they would have the money to go travel and see the world. 

Just picture it, honey. The three of us. Istanbul. Rome. Rio de Janeiro. We can go see the world.

But the next day changed everything. When her dad died, her dreams died and she never thought about it again. Here she was though, standing in front of the departure board ready to make the trip of a lifetime and having no idea where she was going to go. What is mom going to say when I tell her? Her mom had not approved of any of her choices in life. But this, this felt like the right choice. This felt like something that would make her dad proud. Something that would make her happy again.

She shook her head and closed her notebook. Stuffing it forcefully into her bag, she took a deep breath and stepped towards the counter, the decision made.

“Hello there, welcome to ticketing. Where would you like to buy a ticket for?

Marie smiled at the agent and opened her mouth.

Istanbul. Rome. Rio de Janeiro.