RUNNING
I stayed in Craig’s room the last night of the meeting. He had a 9:30 a.m. flight out of Philadelphia airport. In the morning, after I was packed and ready, he was still ingesting his great abundance of pills with his factor nearby ready to be infused for the flight home. It was after 8:00 a.m.
“I don’t know if I’m going to make my flight,” he said looking at his watch. “Maybe I should just call and change it to a later flight.”
“Do you want to make your flight?” I asked.
“I would like to get home, I’m exhausted,” he said as he fixed his works for the infusion, “but it’s one of those things you get used to hemophilia and AIDS, there’s just so much to do.”
“Craig,” I said, “if you want to make the flight, be downstairs by nine and I’ll get you there on time.”
“It’s a big airport.” he said.
“Is this bag packed?” I said grabbing his larger suitcase.
“Yeah, but I still have to check out.” he said.
“Butt in line. I’ll see you at nine out front,” I said on my way out the door. I didn’t know where the airport was exactly, but I had time to find out. I took the elevator to the lobby where people were already checking out and shared the elevator down into the garage with others with baggage. I found the car easily and found that the gas gauge was on empty. I was relieved to see the sun shining when I pulled out of the garage. The top went down before I paid my way out of the hotel, filled up the tank and got directions, then headed back to the hotel. It was a few minutes to nine when I pulled up front of the lobby and Craig was right on time.
“Are you sure we can do this?” he asked holding his duffel bag like a baby.
I took the bag from him and heaved it into the back seat and he climbed in the front.
“Buckle up,” I said as we peeled away from the hotel and in no time were on the road, making every light on the way to the highway.
“Does this thing have air bags?” he yelled above the rock and roll music on the radio.
“If they go off in a convertible they become balloons,” I yelled looking up at the bright blue sky.
Roscoe looked up at the sky and grinned from ear to ear. “Yes!” he shouted.
By the time we hit interstate 95 we hit 95 and kept gettin’ up. We made the airport terminal by 9:15 and pulled to the curb near a skycap. While Craig pulled himself out of the car I tried to bribe the skycap to get his luggage to the plane.
“Stand in line,” he said. I looked back at the line with a dozen people stretching their necks to see that order was maintained.
Craig struggled with his duffel and I grabbed the suitcase out of the trunk. We left the Stang at the curb and rushed into the terminal to the first screen to see where his gate was.
“I sure am glad I infused,” he said.
After getting our bearings I grabbed the duffel bag from him and said, “Let’s go for it.”
We ran through the airport and got lucky at the metal detectors. Craig kept up the pace right behind me, hopping on his good leg with the bionic knee more often than not. I got to the gate only seconds before Craig hobbled up grinning from ear to ear and out of breath. Everyone had boarded but the gate was still open.
“I made it,” he said full of adrenaline and vigor. He took his duffel and a stewardess took his suitcase and walked him right on the plane. “I did it,” he exclaimed as he hobbled out of sight. I knew right then that Craig would be in my corner until the end.
I quickly made my way back to the front of the terminal where a dozen or so people were still in line for the sky cap. I climbed in the red Stang and headed South with a handful of business cards and no real prospects. It had been, however, my first personal pitch to the national hemophilia community. I was reassured that there was no other film in the works about the hemophilia community that wasn’t specifically targeted at the hemophilia community. But it had been an expensive weekend, even without the cost of a room. The entry fee, car rental, fuel, parking, long distance calls, copies of the proposal and letters, clothes, food and drink and tobacco all made it necessary to get back to the cave and dig in. I knew that I had to find help within the film community in Wilmington to help on the fund raising end. Gathering material and putting it together, bringing order out of the chaos was what excited me most, like plucking the prime fruit from an overabundant tree and creating a golden pie, not too sweet and not too tart. Dessert.