I tore open the plastic covering of my new purchase and looked proudly at the very attractively-designed cover. "The Essential Russian Phrase Book" it read, together with an impressively large photo of St. Basil's Cathedral. I looked longingly at the picture. I turned over the cover and skimmed through the introduction, where my eyes briefly met some strange looking symbols and pictures of "what your tongue should look like when you say: й". Clearly, speaking Russian is no easy task.
"Hey!"
A friendly elbow dug into my side and startled me.
"What's an eight-letter word for an adventurous action that runs counter to approved or conventional conduct?"
Sitting a few seats away was Dylan, my friend of 20 years. There in his hands, were a pencil and a small booklet that almost looked as new as my Russian phrasebook. It would have taken a lot to drive him to the point of actually attempting something like a crossword puzzle in the middle of an airport. But hey, I was about to start learning Russian, so I wasn't about to point fingers.
"I'm not too sure," I told him, "What's it start with?"
"Dunno, the second letter's an 's'.
Wow, big help. Letting out a sigh, I slumped back into my chair and glanced at my watch. Five to nine, which would mean we had been waiting for our flight for a good long three hours. Dylan caught me looking at my watch, and he glanced at his too. We both exchanged looks of frustration. No, his face seemed to look more like an "I told you so", and I got it loud and clear.
"Fine, so we shouldn't have gone with the package deal!" I exclaimed.
He just gave me that look again, his mouth slightly curving into a smirk.
"Well, what do you wanna do about it?" he said.
"Come on, let's go find a counter," I replied.
I really should have known better. That airline was fast gaining notoriety for their horrible delays, something I remained overly optimistic about when placing my booking with them for a flight to Melbourne, Australia.
“Hey! Get over here quick!”
Dylan was already at the counter, arms waving frantically and mouthing something to the lady at the service counter. I broke into a jog just to see what he was so worked up about.
“Check this out, mate! A MAS Stimulus Package!
“MAS Stimulus?”
“Yeah, it’s a buy one, get one free offer! And guess what, the flight to Melbourne leaves in an hour!
I looked at the readout on the screen, and then again at the flight details. By crikey, he was right! Needless to say, we snapped up two seats on the 10:15 flight, all for the price of one. Dylan was a real sport, he was so ecstatic about his find that he even bought us both seats on business class. I would have done the same, only if I were earning just about half as much as him. It must have been a good year for him, just about the same as every year we go travelling.
“The food here is great! Here, you’ve got to try this,”
Dylan shoved a spoonful of chicken salad into my mouth.
“Ah, it’s good, but not as good as the fish. Here!”
I cut a piece for him and put it into his tray. I have to say, Dylan was right on the money when he chose this airline. I had done quite a fair bit of travelling in my day, but I think this one, MAS, would definitely rank among the top airlines on my list.
Speaking of lists, I reach into my pocket and pull out a piece of paper. I had written down a number of things to do and places to see before returning home. This backpacking trip of ours had always been a tradition over the years, and this one would be our last. Although being able to go to Melbourne, more specifically a concert that I had been waiting a lifetime to see, was something to be glad for, I cannot help but feel heavy-hearted that I would no longer have these spontaneous trips with Dylan after this.
“Vodafone Arena, here we come!”
Dylan and I had arrived in the City, Melbourne, and hauling our heavy backpacks we started making our way to the concert venue. Hailing ourselves a Melbourne city cab, we found ourselves at the steps of the Vodafone Arena, in the heart of the City.
The concert was incredible. Truly one of the best experiences of my life. The crowds, the atmosphere, the band, the message. Everything about it was amazing. As we both stepped out of the arena, we exchanged looks again. Dylan was smiling out of the corner of his lips, his eyes still almost in a daze. We continued walking and got ourselves a couple of memorabilia.
We spent a few more days in Melbourne, taking in the sights and sounds. There nothing like Christmas time in the heart of the City, we were told. And they were right.
“Hey, what else is on that list?” Dylan asks as we board the plane back to Kuala Lumpur.
“Well, let’s see… Right, you wanted to visit your brother in Langkawi.”
“Gosh, did I write that? You must be carrying the old list, man. I don’t remember writing that down.”
“No, I did.”
Dylan, for all of his strengths, also had his share of shortcomings. His relationship with an estranged brother was the one he was most ashamed of. Almost ten years ago, his brother was announcing his engagement to his girlfriend of two years. Dylan had a strong feeling that she wasn’t the right one for his brother and he told him what he felt. As the story goes, that was the last time they saw each other. Dylan’s brother severed all ties with him, and it wasn’t until a year and a half later, I heard that Dylan’s brother had just separated from his wife.
I bought the tickets in secret, booking them online while we were in Melbourne. Remembering the airline we flew here on, I started my search there. And immediately, one of them catches my eye. A MAS “Balik Kampung” package going for a very affordable rate. It wasn’t so much the price that grabbed me; it was the little caption that was beside it. “Add more joy to family reunions,” it read. And that was exactly what I was trying to do.
“You know, he’s not going to want to talk to me.” Dylan uttered under his breath, staring out of the plane window.
Clearly, he was still less than excited about going to meet his brother.
“You don’t know that yet,” I said, trying to be as supportive as I can, “It’s been what, ten years already. Things may have changed.”
“Things may not have changed at all.”
“He’s your brother, Dylan. You owe it to yourself and to him. The last thing you want before you…”
I ended my sentence abruptly. We were not supposed to make any mention of it throughout our trip. He shot an unpleasant look at me, and then silently stared back out the window. I didn’t say anything else for the rest of the voyage.
Langkawi was a beautiful as I remembered it to be. The familiar sight of the huge statue of the majestic symbol of the island, the eagle, still stood guard over the city. The city was ever alive, even at night. It was late, but we didn’t have very long to do what we came here to do. We managed to locate his residence with a phone book, and we were quickly on our way. Before we knew it, we were right at the doorstep of his brother’s house.
“What if he still hates me?” asked Dylan, “I’ve hated him all this time as well.”
“No, you didn’t hate him,” I answered, “And I don’t think he ever did either. After all, he is your brother.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said weakly, “You’ll be here?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Dylan entered the house. Until this day, I do not know what went on in that house. But one thing’s for sure, my friend Dylan came out the front door with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. As we walked to the taxi, he looked up at me, and said, “Thank you.”
The next evening, as we drove back to the airport, we did so reflectively. I gazed out the window, watching the sun set over the orange horizon, a breath-taking view. I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the brochure I downloaded from the MAS website. “Add more joy to family reunions.” Across the car I see Dylan, also mesmerized by the setting sun, reflecting just as much as I am. Out of all the ‘family’ reunions I have ever been to, none have brought me as much joy as this one.
After a long and peaceful flight, we were back on Kuala Lumpur terra firma. Gazing out the large picture windows of KLIA we could see that it was a beautiful night, the black sky illuminated by the surrounding lights, the airplanes taking off and landing. We stepped into the arriving hall on our way to the lobby. We both knew that the end had come.
There we stood, in the centre of the lobby, bags in hand and goodbyes in our hearts. I didn’t know what to say. And from the look on Dylan’s face, neither did he. After a pause, he finally spoke in a soft voice.
“We never did figure out what was that eight-letter word in the crossword puzzle, you know?”
“Yeah,” I remembered the first day, right in this very airport when we began our journey, “What was it again?”
“An adventurous action that runs counter to approved or conventional conduct.”
“Well,” I replied, “That sounds a lot like what we just got back from, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Yes, it does.”
In the centre of the KLIA lobby, Dylan and I embraced. My mind is flooded by the memories that he and I shared over the years of our friendship. How we travelled the world, one place at the time, doing things we’d never though we’d find ourselves doing. How we found strength in the most difficult of times, but never having to face them without each other. And now, there would be one last one.
“Are you ready for it?” I ask him.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” he responded, with tears in his eyes.
We made our way to the front doors of the airport. Reaching them, Dylan stopped short.
“You know how you surprised me with that trip to my brother’s?” he said.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“I never got to thank you properly. Well, I know how much you’ve always wanted to go to Russia.
I don’t know what you see in that country, but I didn’t want you to miss it because of me.”
In his hands, he held a plane ticket. A single plane ticket to Moscow, Russia.
“You know, MAS is even better than I thought! You wouldn’t believe the price I got this one for,” he chuckled, “This one was part of the Economy Plus Package, I just couldn’t resist!”
I was stunned. Dylan had bought me a ticket to Moscow, where he always knew I wanted to go.
‘Oh my goodness, Dylan, I don’t know what to say…”
“Just say you’ll go, and that you’ll enjoy yourself. And it’s a good thing you picked up that Russian phrase book too, or you won’t be saying very much when you get there, eh?”
We both laughed as we made our way out the front doors.
That was the last time I saw my friend Dylan Layne Turner. Several days after we returned home, we lost him to a viral battle with bone cancer, something he had been fighting for a little more than a year. The surgeons had warned us that the long trip would take its toll, but Dylan was insistent that we go. His words went along the lines of not wanting to let the cancer keep him from living the rest of his life, with what little time he had. We both knew in our hearts that this one would be his last.
My only regret was that we never got to figure out what that eight-letter word was. Whatever it was, we definitely lived it. Several months after his funeral, I was on board a plane headed for Moscow. The airline staff still as great as they were a few months ago, without a doubt.
Moscow is absolutely beautiful. I reach the gates of St. Basil’s Cathedral, and stop to take it all in. Thankfully, I was able to find my way there with a trusty little Russian phrasebook. As I gaze at the marvel before me, I find myself thinking of my friend, Dylan, and what he would have said. And knowing him, it would have been something like this:
