Friday Story — Bags Not.

The plane circled the island of Bora Bora with Mount Otemanu resting majestically in the centre of it. Silly smiles were plastered across their faces as they looked down through one of the small round windows at the clear blue waters that lapped against the outer reefs. Pristine white beaches were painted in crescent moons on every side of it. They finished their drinks as the stewardess swept by to collect them. They squeezed each other’s legs, then hands and finally shoulders as they pressed their faces to the shared window for one final look.

The plane’s engine growled as they swung into a descending turn and dropped towards the runway. Ryan opened one eye, having promised to close them both. Gina hated landing, so always insisted they both closed their eyes as she never liked him watching her. It had become a bit of game for him, a pre-arrival ritual. Him with one eye open as her brow furrowed, jaw clenched, then knuckles whitened as they touched down. He laughed quietly to himself as she went through each phase. He needed this. Six months of a bleak winter in the UK with that picture of a bungalow perched over the water stuck to his fridge.

They had saved hard for this. She didn’t know it, though he’d saved more. The result of which now sat in a small red box tucked carefully into his toilet bag hidden in his suitcase. He’d told no one before they left. He thought she suspected, though he’d been careful, almost religious with his discretion. They’d been together five years. He sensed that if he went much longer without proposing, he’d be trading on the goodwill of their relationship, which like any had had its ups and downs.

It was hot as they disembarked. The plane was a small one. A steel staircase had been rolled over to the planes’ door, which they now descended from. Their bags were being unloaded on to two oversized trays with no sides and large wheels as they walked the stairs. They were bolted together and hitched to the back of a small cart that looked like it had been repurposed from a golf course. Gina pulled a large hat down over her head, though he could see the sides of her pale cheeks stretching as she smiled. A gentle breeze swept across his face. The warmth of it was something to savour. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan thought he could he see someone approaching with a second cart, albeit with nothing attached to it. He tried to stop and look as it approached the luggage. He could see the bright yellow straps wrapped around his own black suitcase now sitting on top of the stack before he was ushered forward by the ground staff. He tried to turn back before the bags disappeared behind the plane as they headed for the entrance to the terminal.

The pleasant heat of the day had become an annoyance as they approached a second hour. The air conditioning was off and only a fan swung lazily above their heads in the office they sat in, generating nothing more than a grinding sound on every third turn. The staff offered them both drinks before Ryan was on his feet.

‘I don’t need another bloody drink. I just want my bags so we can get the hell out of here and start our holiday.’

‘Sir, as I’ve told you, the ground staff-‘

‘Have searched all the spaces known to man and have no recollection of my luggage. You’ve said.’ He raked a hand through his hair and kept ongoing. ‘What I’m telling you, is that I have eyes. Do you see them?’ He said rolling them from left to right in his head, his sunglasses raised with his left hand. ‘Because with these eyes, I witnessed my luggage on top of the pile of bags I saw on the tarmac. Now, how is it possible-’

’Sir. Sir, we’ve heard what you had to say,’ said the airport’s manager, standing behind his desk. ‘I can only apologise for their misplacement. Can we get you to your hotel and have your suitcase forwarded on as soon as it appears?’

‘Please honey. Can’t we just go?’ She said reaching for his arm.

He pulled it away, ‘Gina, don’t start.’ Ryan stepped closer. ‘Listen, Reggie,’ Reginald was pinned to a silver badge on the left side of his chest, ‘I’m confident I saw one of your staff, driving their vehicle towards the luggage as we were walking away. My suitcase, as I’ve mentioned several times, was sitting on top,’ he added pointing at the runway.

At that moment a staff member went past the large windows Ryan was pointing at. He was wearing one of his shirts.

‘Did you see that?’ Ryan screeched.

Reginald turned around. ‘Sorry? See what?’

Ryan’s mouth looked liked Gina’s had as they had touched down. ‘One of your staff just walked past the window with my Star Wars shirt on. It’s black and white with a Storm Troopers face on the front of it.’ He turned to Gina. ‘Did you see him?’

‘Sorry love, which one?’

‘Are you sure it’s yours? Maybe they made more than one?’ Reginald replied.

‘That’s it! Forward the suitcase on to the hotel. Gina, follow me,’ said Ryan opening a side door.

‘Sir you can’t go out there!’

The door closed behind them. Ryan strode out on to the ash felt. Gina struggled to keep up, her bag bounced on an off her shoulder as she chased him. Up ahead the guy Ryan had singled out, was making his way in behind the building they’d been in.

‘Do you see that?

‘What?’ Gina replied, her head cocked to one side, trying to hear him.

‘He’s got my bloody toilet bag under his arm!’

‘Why would he … have your toilet bag?’ she said yelling as she fell further behind

Ryan was running now. He kept looking over his shoulder to make sure Gina was there. The guy had seen him. He turned on his heel and started running.

‘Come on Gina, quickly! He’s getting away!’

They rounded the corner in behind the airport, then sprinted towards a jetty. They could see him in the distance. He was stepping on to a small red boat.

‘Stop that man!’ Ryan screamed. ‘He’s got my stuff!’

People looked up, staff and tourists all confused. Ryan’s arms were pumping now. He looked over his shoulder, Gina was even further back. He pushed harder, though his shoes weren’t runners. They had smooth souls which sent him sprawling just as he could see the whites of the thief’s eyes. He collapsed in a heap and slid across the jetty scraping his legs as the boat pulled away.

‘No!!’ he screamed, his arms outstretched.

His heart thumped in his chest, sweat rolled down his face as he lay on his back. Gina had arrived, hat in her hand, her hair looking frazzled. She was puffing hard, her face looked red though she was smiling.

‘I don’t know what you’re smiling about. He’s gone.’

‘We’ve got travel insurance. I’m sure a T-shirt and toilet bag will be covered.’

Ryan opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and closed it again.

‘You guys need a lift to the mainland?’ said a voice from the other side of the jetty.’

Ryan sat up. A short chubby guy with shoulder-length black hair tucked in behind his ears, wearing a Captain’s hat, a buttoned-up white shirt, and shorts sat behind the wheel of what looked to be a very fast boat. ‘Like A Dream,’ was written in gold copperplate inside of a thick dark blue stripe that ran down one side of it.

‘Man, that would be great buddy. How much?’

‘I saw what happened there and I can guess where he’s heading. It’ll be Vaitape. Get in.’

‘You bet,’ said Ryan leaping to his feet, grabbing Gina and ushering her onboard.

The thing could go. The engine roared as it sat up on its hind legs and all but sprinted across the water. Saltwater splashed the sides of Ryan’s face as he leaned into it. He could see the small red boat up ahead. He could hear the engine screaming as its driver tried to push it harder, though they were gaining on it. The issue was they were closing in on the mainland as well. The red boat got there first. The guy tied a line to the jetty and jumped on to it, then sprinted toward the street. They pulled up beside it seconds later and did the same.

‘Thanks, Captain,’ Ryan shouted as they followed him.

‘Nānā!’ he replied.

The small seaside village of Vaitape was teeming with people. Ryan looked left, then right and caught sight of the back of his head. He was pushing his way through locals and tourists as he fought to escape. They lost sight of him further up the road, rounded a corner before Ryan dived to one side and pulled Gina to the ground as a scooter roared past. The Storm Trooper flapped on the rider’s chest as he passed. The toilet bag had been strapped to the back of it.

‘Stop that guy! Thief!’ said Ryan slapping his hands together, his hands finding his hips.

Ryan looked to where the guy had come from and found a row of scooters, several with keys in the ignition. He searched the faces of the locals, they just smiled at him. That was the only invitation he needed.

He jumped on the bike, turned the ignition and gunned the engine. ’Let’s go, Gina! Get on the back, come on!’

‘This is just-‘

The engine drowned out the rest as he pulled away. He weaved in and out of traffic, flew past people as he tore down Route de Ceinture, heading north. The air felt great after being trapped on planes for the last twenty hours. The heat washed over his body as they picked up speed. Palm trees lined the coast. The water was as blue as the pictures had promised. The sun was beginning to set. Despite it all, he smiled to himself. He felt Gina squeeze him a little tighter.

The guy took a right up ahead. Now they were on a dirt road, with dust flying in all directions. He turned his head sideways as he drove into it. They passed houses that shrunk and grew more ragged as they got closer to the base of Mt Otemanu. Banana palms gave way to thicker bush. It wasn’t a big island, he’d run out of track eventually. Then they’d have him.

They were rising now, their views were slightly elevated. White seabirds drifted on currents overhead. Ryan slammed on the breaks as they almost collided with a wooden fence at the end of the road. The bike slid across loose dirt to a stop. The other scooter was parked up, stripped of the toilet bag that had been strapped to it. He was on foot now. That was a good thing. Local or not, Ryan and Gina were hikers.

Ryan strapped Gina’s bag over his shoulder so that it sat firmly in the centre of his back. The sweat from his body had cooled and he felt all the better for it. They followed a dirt track between rocks and more trees. The trail rose as the tree canopy hid them. It was getting darker though it remained humid. They’d been walking for less than five minutes. Ryan could hear Gina breathing steadily behind him. How she had stayed with him when he’d lost his cool so many times when he knew he was being pig-headed though just couldn’t stop himself. It always made him grateful. This was one of those moments. The holiday they’d worked so hard for, was at risk of being permanently ruined before it’d begun. He couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t know what was at stake here. He needed that bag back. He’d find the guy and turn it around.

A gentle sweat trickled down the side of his face. He could see light up ahead. A little further up it opened on to a small clearing. In the centre of it was a white table and two chairs. A thick white candle burned steadily in the middle of it, sheltered from any sea breeze. It was still. A bottle of champagne sat in a silver bucket of ice. A platter of cheeses, meats, grapes and tropical fruits he couldn’t name glistened under the firelight. He stopped in his tracks, confused about what he’d walked into. Then he saw a small red box had been placed carefully beside the silver ice bucket. As he moved forward, he could hear a ukulele being played from the bush on the other side of it. The thief he’d seen from the airport stepped out of the trees on the far side, smiling while playing, still wearing his Storm Trooper shirt. Ryan turned around. Gina was on her left knee giggling to herself, holding open a black box with a silver ring inside it. ’I will if you will,’ she said.