96 Hours by Georgia Beers Page A

movie. They were trying to pass the time as they hung in limbo, waiting for the moment they’d be told they could board their planes again, that they could resume their lives.
    “Hey, look at that,” Michael said, pointing to their left. Outside a building marked Newtel Communications, long tables were set up under outdoor tents. Some held telephones, others held computers. Hand-lettered signs boasted no-charge phone calls and internet access. “All free. Amazing.”
    “Corinne said the pharmacy is filling prescriptions for free, too,” Abby said.
    Brian’s voice was low, in awe. “These people are really something.”
    “What’s this highlighted part?” Michael asked, pointing at bright yellow on the map.
    “Turn it around,” Abby said, making a spinning motion with a finger. “See the gander head?”
    “Well, I’ll be damned.”
    She was right. Three streets: Elizabeth, Edinburgh, and Memorial, all curved and met in such a way as to form a crude outline of the head of a goose.
    “That’s where the town got its name. Tim told me.”
    “Huh. Clever.”
    “I was thinking maybe we could go to Cobb’s Pond.” She glanced at the map and pointed in the general vicinity. “Tim said there’s a boardwalk and it’s such a nice day. You all up for a stroll?”
    Fifteen minutes later, Abby and Erica were waving goodbye to the men in the car, who promised they’d be back in two hours or less.
    “Is walking along a boardwalk a girly thing or something?” Abby asked, a little stung that the guys didn’t hang around.
    “Yeah, it kind of is,” Erica replied, amused by Abby’s pout.
    “Too bad for them,” Abby declared with a shrug. “Look at this place. It’s gorgeous.”
    She was right about that. A large archway announced Cobb’s Pond Rotary Park and beyond it, beautiful blue water and the deep, thick green of fir, birch, aspen, and spruce trees. Other people milled about, dining at various picnic tables or launching canoes for a relaxing glide around the pond, but overall the atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. Erica sucked in a big lungful of air and let it out slowly.
    “Feeling better?” Abby asked, noting that the blue of Erica’s eyes had brightened since earlier that morning.
    “Much.” She turned to look at Abby. “Thank you.”
    “No problem.” Abby pointed. “Hey, that looks like the boardwalk. Tim said it goes all the way around, between three and four kilometers.” She laughed. “And I have no idea how far that is.”
    “A little over two miles.”
    “Figures you’d know that. You up for it?”
    With a quick dip of her head, Erica headed for the boardwalk, Abby jogged to catch up.
    They spent nearly fifteen minutes walking in silence, simply enjoying their surroundings. Birds were plentiful, as were squirrels, both feeding from the various feeders and houses scattered throughout the trees. Observation decks were spaced every so often for stopping and looking out over the pond, and breathing in the beauty of it all—the water, the birdsong, the clean air. Erica could feel her body relaxing, finally; the first time she’d been able to let go in several days. Her shoulders seemed to soften, the rock hardness of that area finally melting away. Her lungs felt clear, like every last molecule of airplane air was finally, only now, gone from her system. Muscles that had felt taut as stretched rubber bands gradually relaxed, the rigidity easing, and her pale skin soaked in the rays of the sun. She turned her face toward the sky, eyes closed, content.
    No wonder the people of Gander were so wonderful, she thought. How could you not be happy here?
    It was the most foreign feeling she’d had in ages. And it was so amazing it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
    Abby was in tune with people, a characteristic on which she prided herself, and she watched the change come over Erica with interest. She saw it happening, saw her relax, saw the worry lines on her face smooth out, saw the