Adventures of The Last Crusader – II

“What the heck is wrong with the weather?!” a frustrated Jona muttered to himself as he tugged fiercely at the crew neck of his black tee.

Pushing aside the row of luggage trolleys that snaked around the curb of the departure terminal, he marched purposely towards Entry Gate I.

Always the one to travel light, all that J needed for his month long trip fitted into a bulky backpack that straddled his shoulders.

A month…or two… or maybe even longer, who could really say? The strapping young man had as good as quit his prestigious job as a flight lieutenant with the RAF back home, to see this quest through.

“Home…” J drawled the word under his breath, savouring the flickering sensation of belonging that assailed him as he did so.

London and its famed spires seemed so far out of reach at this point in time.

A sense of rootedness was something he had been chasing for long now, and this was the one place where he had really wanted for it to end. But…maybe it was too soon.


 “Move, man!” the guy behind him yelled.

J stumbled out of his reverie and into the here and now. The queue to collect boarding passes was crawling at its own sweet pace.

“Damn these stupid connecting routes! Why couldn’t I have taken a direct flight?!” he grumbled.

Once again the man-in-charge and not known to waste any time, he began to strategize in his head, charting meticulously his further course of action.

Standing there, with the fingers of his left hand drumming a restless pattern against the side of his leg, J looked as anxious as he was excited.

A thinker by habit, an introvert when he chose to be so, a combination of all attributes of brawn on the outside with one hell of a brilliant brain…this was the quinessential J.

But…there was vulnerability still. It was something that came through very potently when one looked in his eyes.

“May I have your ticket please,” asked the thin-lipped woman at the counter in heavily-accented English.

“Did you enjoy your time in Hungary?” she enquired in a friendly manner, while punching in his details.

“Yes, I did. Thank You,” J responded hurriedly, willing himself not to respond in case she followed up with some other nicety.

“Here’s your boarding pass, sir. Have a safe flight,” she smiled, as she handed him the card.

He mumbled a small thanks to her and scurried past towards the waiting lounge.

This was finally happening.

He was finally set to embark upon a journey that promised to put to rest the obsessive frenzy of all those fevered nights he had spent poring over endless reams of research material.

“This is it,” J told himself, as with a deafening roar the plane took off, leaving nothing but a fading vignette of grey beneath.

To be continued…


~ by eugenicist on July 6, 2012.

2 Responses to “Adventures of The Last Crusader – II”

  1. Now he had reached a new phase of urgent restlessness. The life of a “country squire” had palled completely. He was going more and more often to New York; and whenever he did so he found himself, at journey’s end, brooding in the gloomy depths of the Hell Hole. The stage was now set for the long flight from himself, an ordeal from which his family was to suffer even more savagely than himself. For it was at this juncture that he received a letter from his old Greenwich Village companion, Harold de Polo, who wrote from Bermuda that the island was a great place for writers. Why not come down?

  2. great post

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