Seriously, Norman!, page 22
“Look, he can still deliver your presents,” said Emma.
“But not on an airplane! Santa doesn’t work for NASA, you know. He can’t do a midflight delivery. Where’s the chimney on a 747?”
“Anyhoozle,” said Norman, “we’ve got to rescue my dad, right? This is going to count big-time for the nice list. What could be nicer than rescuing a grown man from Alfurnian spies?”
“Rescuing a puppy from Alfurnian spies?” said Anna.
“There’s no puppy. Forget about the puppy. Come on, Leonard, are you in on Operation Winter Summer Bomber Bummer or out?”
“I’m in,” said Leonard with a sigh.
The Quadrumvirate placed its hands together in typical pre-game pep-talk fashion. Norman slowly looked into two sets of identical brown eyes and one of hazel green.
“Winter Summer—”
“Bomber Bummer!” answered the three.
* * *
On the eve of Christmas Eve, in the midst of books and socks, packs of cards, his monocular, T-shirts lying all about him, Norman held his Alfred the Great figurine in his left hand, then tossed it to his right, weighing it there. Norman’s eyes were fixed out of the window at a gibbous moon.
“Alfred,” he said, “Alfred the Super-Great, I mean. I’m going to put you back in your plastic egg. I think I’m going to go it alone on this one. I’m going to need all of my senses, including my inner ones, focused on finding my dad.”
Norman held Alfred the Great up to his face. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ll be fine. Of course I’ll miss you. Besides, lately all you’ve been thinking about is that damsel, Inga. Now let me finish packing, I’ve got to concentrate.” Norman gazed about him. “Umph, I can’t forget my umbrella.”
Sometime later, his packing at last complete, and with Leonard already snoring very softly, Norman threw himself onto his bed and closed his eyes. A moment later, he opened them again; he jumped off his bed, unzipped his suitcase, dug until he found his Ingmeister’s Compact International Dictionary, and leaped back into bed. He snuggled his shoulders into his pillows, switched on his bedside lamp, and opened to the Vs. He read:
Vandyke red n : a grayish red that is bluer and deeper than Pompeian red
vane n : a movable device attached to a spire for showing the direction of the wind
vanguard n : the leaders of thought, taste, or opinion in a movement
vanillism n : “grocer’s itch,” a skin irritation caused by handling vanilla pods infested with mites
vanish vb : to disappear entirely
vanity n : something that is empty, vain, or valueless
vanman n : a van driver
vanquish vb : to conquer
operation w.s.b.b.
Norman blinked open his heavy eyelids. Squinting at the diffuse light around him, a rumbly hum in his ears, he wondered where he was or if he was even awake. A soft grunt and lip smack emanated from what appeared to be a sack of some kind next to his right arm. As Norman studied this grumbling sack, it slowly resolved itself into Leonard, happily asleep beneath a blue Singapore Airlines blanket. With this dawning recognition, a tingle of excitement, or possibly apprehension, ran up and then down and then back up Norman’s spine. He remembered he was on Flight 94 to Singapore; all fuzziness fell away like a piece of tissue paper torn from a Christmas box. Norman’s senses of sight and hearing were back to normal, and even his sense of smell kicked in as he breathed in the odd smell of airplane, the aroma of beige.
Norman looked around. Beside him in seat 38B, as we have seen, was Leonard, curled like a pill bug; across the aisle, Norman could see his mother in 38C, also sound asleep. Norman leaned forward and peered between the seats, where he saw two heads of braided hair mingled together in 37A and 37B: the twins enfolded like kittens.
The soft clinking and clanking of the few passengers who were awake was subsumed by the profound purr of the enormous airplane. A flight attendant wearing a yellow, flower-printed dress, her hair pulled back and piled to make an enormous, black, glossy pincushion, ghosted down the aisle, checking on her sleeping brood, removing an empty glass here, tucking up a pillow there. She smiled a perfect smile at Norman as she passed, so smoothly as to seem to have ten feet where presumably there were only two. But as her dress reached all the way to the floor, it was impossible to check.
Norman sat back in his seat and let his mind wander over the flurry of the day just passed. It had been a long one, full of last-minute scrambles for one missing item or another. There had been a quick trip to the bookstore for guidebooks. Then there had been a trip to the grocery store for snacks. “They’ll have food in Singapore, Mom,” Norman had said. “But what if it isn’t properly sanitary?” had said Norma. And at two o’clock in the afternoon, Emma announced that she had lost her passport somewhere in the Normann house. It had taken forty-five minutes and all their combined efforts to find it, Leonard ultimately guessing that she had probably been staring at her passport photo, looking for blemishes or a bad-hair moment, before going to sleep. Indeed, Leonard imagined well, for the passport turned up within the tangled sheets and blankets of her bed.
You might think it unlikely that the various parents had agreed to this scheme. Actually, Anna and Emma’s parents were thrilled that the twins would get such fine entertainment over the holidays. It was only Mrs. Piquant who had to be persuaded. Though she trusted her friend Norma to do her best, she knew that she was not much of a match for the combined wills of Norman and Leonard. Still, she also knew Leonard would not allow not being allowed to go along.
“Eeeeeeeyaaa!” had of course been Leonard’s comment.
Norman smiled in his seat 38A.
The Quadrumvirate plus one mom were already pretty exhausted by the time they gathered at the gate, waiting to board their flight, late on Christmas Eve. Before the blue runway lights had much receded below them, they were all helplessly asleep.
Norman raised his window shade and peered out. What time was it anyway, he wondered. He had no idea. The sky was a brilliant black, a living black of infinite depth. The numberless stars looked close and far at the same time; it was more stars than Norman had ever seen before. He pushed his face close to the glass of the inner window to see farther. He could not find the moon, but he imagined it somewhere, and then looking down he saw its proof, as the great, wide earth was glazed in moon glow, whitely shimmering, sparkling but gauzy. With a start he knew it was the North Pole. Norman remembered now that the captain had said they would fly directly over it. It was beautiful, so immense. It was vanilla frosting.
Wait a second, Norman thought. It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the middle of the night. And we’re directly over the North Pole. Do you suppose . . .
And Norman pressed his face to the glass again, feeling the cold against his cheek and eyebrow.
For a moment Norman thought he saw a red, blinking light flying through the night sky, but then he could not bring himself to believe it, not enough to wake his sleeping friend, at any rate. He turned his gaze back to the stars above the frosted earth. What were they telling him? He had read that, because they were so far away, whatever they were telling him was already ancient history, billions of years old. Still, they seemed to be winking directly at him, as if knowing all those years ago that he would peek at them this night.
Norman checked for Santa one more time—had he heard reindeer bells?—pulled his blanket close around him, and fell back to sleep.
* * *
“Norman! Wake up, it’s Christmas!” Leonard had emerged from beneath his blue blanket and was shaking Norman by the shoulder.
Norman raised a heavy lid.
“Merry Christmas,” said Leonard. “Look out the window! Sunshine.”
Norman raised another heavy lid to cast gummy eyes at the shafts of yellow light glancing off the snowy world so far below them.
“Merry Christmas,” said Anna and Emma, their heads now popped above the seats.
“Good morning, dears. Merry Christmas,” said Norma, stretching in her seat across the aisle.
Norman heaved himself up.
“I saw the North Pole last night,” he said through a yawn.
“Did you see any sign of Santa?” said Leonard. “I only ask in the interest of science.”
“Maybe.”
“You did not!” said Anna.
“I think I saw something blinking,” said Norman.
“An airplane,” said Emma.
“It was red—”
“A Sputnik,” said Anna.
“What’s a Sputnik?” said Leonard.
“I thought I heard tinkling—” said Norman.
“In the bathroom!” said Emma.
“No, seriously,” said Leonard, “did you see or hear something?”
“Well, it’s a little hard to remember,” said Norman. “But speaking of tinkling, I have to get up.”
“Oh yeah, sure,” said Leonard. “I’ll go with you.”
Norman and Leonard rose from their seats and walked down the long aisle, picking their way past their fellow passengers, who read or slept or watched films or manipulated the screens on the seatbacks. Norman glanced at each face he passed; any one of them could be his neighbor at home, and yet all together they created a new world for him, a place he had never been, foreign, frightening, exciting. Where were they all going?
After Norman and Leonard used the lavatories, they decided to explore farther aft. They discovered a small side room where they could stand and look out the windows.
“Eeeeeeyooof!” said Leonard. “Where on earth are we? Look at all that snow.”
Norman pressed his face against another window and again felt the cold on his cheek, this time with the glare of sunshine in his eyes.
“I don’t know, but it sure is snowy.”
“We are above Siberia now,” said a soft voice above them.
Norman looked up and recognized the flight attendant he had seen the night before.
He smiled hesitantly as Leonard turned from the window as well.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, also smiling.
“Merry Christmas,” said Leonard and Norman.
“Excuse me, miss,” said Leonard.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering, since this is my first trip to Singapore, I was just wondering, um . . . do you even have Christmas in Singapore?”
“Oh, why yes indeed. We have Christmas, Hanukkah, Ramadan, Vesak Day, and the Festival of the Nine Emperor Gods. We have nearly every holiday there is.”
“Have you ever heard about Santa Claus?”
“But of course. Singapore is a country full of many, many different people with many different faiths and traditions. There are Buddhists and Taoists from China, Muslims from Malaysia, Hindus and Buddhists from India, Christians and Jews from Europe. We all live together. Temple next to mosque next to synagogue next to church, and you are welcome everywhere. Just read the signs before you go inside, to see if you should take something off, like shoes and socks, or put something on, like shawls or kipas. Oh, you will have a wonderful time in my city. Come, let us have a toast to the day.”
She began to glide away, then turned and held out her hand.
“By the way, my name is Ronita Kim,” she said.
“Norman Normann,” said Norman, taking her hand.
“Leonard Piquant,” said Leonard.
“Wonderful to meet you both.”
Ronita Kim led them a few steps farther aft to the galley, where she stooped to open a silver cabinet. She stood up, holding a green bottle in her hand.
“A bit of the bubbly.”
“Champagne?” said Leonard.
“Even better,” said Ronita Kim. “Sparkling cider.” And she popped the cork and poured out three plastic cupfuls.
“Chin-chin,” she said.
“Chin-chin,” said Leonard and Norman.
“So you do have Christmas,” said Leonard. “Do you have snow?”
“Good heavens, no. Singapore lies almost on the equator. The temperature is always warm, usually hot. At present, on this airplane, we are just a couple of hours past the North Pole. We still have to travel approximately one quarter of the way around the globe to get to Singapore.”
“A quarter of the way around the globe?” said Leonard.
“Another quarter. Eight hours or so.”
“Eeeeeeyaaaaaa,” said Norman.
“All right, boys, back to your seats. I’ve got to finish up the breakfast service, yours are possibly already on your trays right now. Wait, here’s a little something to pass the time,” she said, diving for another drawer and then handing the boys a small package each.
“Could we possibly have two more for our friends?” said Norman.
With two more packages in their hands, Leonard and Norman hurried back up the aisle, Ronita Kim’s musical “Bye-bye-la” echoing in their ears.
“Merry Christmas! Ho ho ho,” said Leonard.
“Merry Christmas yourselves, we got you breakfast,” said Anna.
“Merry Christmas, Anna,” said Norman, sitting down and passing forward her package. “Merry Christmas, Emma,” said Leonard, doing the same. The packages proved to be compact travel games and puzzles, which were traded back and forth as everyone drank their orange juice and ate their yoghurt and munched their breakfast rolls with much holiday merriment.
At last, quiet and thoughtful again, all four gazed out their windows.
“Which way are we looking, anyway?” said Anna.
“East,” said Norman.
“We just finished breakfast and it’s already getting dark again,” said Anna.
“Wow,” said Leonard. “Time sure flies when you’re having fun.”
“I’d say the reverse is true,” said Emma. “Time sure has fun when you’re flying.”
* * *
Norman clutched the armrest of the taxi van, which propelled them over a smooth roadway bordered in palms and flowering bushes, the blue of the sea now and again beckoning between the foliage in the twilit morning.
“I think that was the cleanest airport I have ever seen in my life,” said Leonard.
“That was the cleanest building, period,” said Anna.
“I wonder what their hospitals look like,” said Emma.
Their taxi driver leaned back, smiling, and said, “Yes, we have very well-organized public services here, yes, we do-la. Did you have any trouble in customs?”
“No. Thank you. Everyone was very helpful, really, very helpful,” said Norma Normann.
“Very good,” said the vanman, “so long as you don’t bring chewing gum with you, ha-ha!”
“Why no gum?” said Anna.
“It is a one-thousand-dollar fine if you spit it out. Also, one-thousand-dollar fine for jaywalking or bicycling on the sidewalk. That is why we say, Singapore, a fine city. Ha! Ha!”
“Oh brother,” said Emma.
The flowering bushes and the palms began to give way to the first high-rise towers. Red and green and blue lights made the pavement, still wet from a recent rain, sparkle and flash around them. The taxi driver sped them quickly and smoothly through the mostly empty five a.m. streets.
“Soon you will see the beautiful fountain we are building to welcome all visitors to our city.”
“Will it spray a fine mist?” said Emma.
“Good one, ha-ha, bravo. Here it comes, you see it there on your right? When it is finished, it will be the biggest fountain in the world.”
“Oh my,” said Norma. “What will it be called?”
“It will be called the Biggest Fountain in the World. Yes, we are all very proud of it-la.”
Leonard said softly to Norman, “These people are nuts-la.”
“Shh!” said Norman.
“Now look here on your left, our new giant Ferris wheel, the Singapore Flyer.”
“Why isn’t it called the Biggest Ferris Wheel in the World?” said Leonard.
“Because it isn’t. Ha! Ha! The ones in China and Kuala Lumpur are bigger.”
“You didn’t want to name it the Third Biggest Ferris Wheel in the World?” said Emma.
“Ha-ha-ha! Very good! Here we are, your hotel, the Pan Specific Hotel. My friends, just between us, the atrium is the fifteenth-tallest in the world.”
“You’re joking,” said Emma dubiously.
“Yes, I am. Ha! Ha! Come let me help you inside. Enjoy your stay here in my city, and remember, tipping is not necessary,” he said, bowing to Norma, who had a fistful of crisp Singapore dollar bills, “not even to me. Bye-bye-la!”
As the great revolving door slowly waltzed them into the hotel lobby, Leonard said, “That has got to be the Nicest Taxi Man in the World.”
“Clean airports, friendly taxi drivers who refuse tips, the sun rising when it should be setting. My world has been turned upside down!” said Emma.
Five minutes later, having been speedily checked into two adjoining rooms on the twenty-seventh floor, our five slightly disoriented globe-trotters stood frankly slack jawed in the elevator, staring out its glass sides at the triangular, balconied atrium of their hotel, which gave the impression of plunging infinitely down and soaring infinitely up.
At last, Anna said, “This is like otherworldly-la.”
the tall bar in singapore
There was a tap at Norman and Leonard’s door.
“It’s me and Emma. Let us in,” said a quiet voice.
Leonard eased open the thick wooden door a crack, peered out, then closed it quickly, removed the safety chain, and opened the door wide.
“Your mom’s asleep,” said Emma.
“Good,” said Norman. “Operation Winter Summer Bomber Bummer can commence. Let’s synchronize our watches.”
“Mine says three,” said Anna.
“Mine says eleven,” said Emma.
“Mine says six, but I think it might not be running right,” said Leonard.
“You’re all wrong, and I’ll tell you how I know,” said Norman. “I never changed my watch.”
“But then you’re still on Eastern Standard Time in America,” said Anna.
“Wrong-o. We went one hundred and eighty degrees around the world, and for every fifteen degrees you go east, you lose one hour, so we are exactly twelve hours ahead.”
