Stranger at the Baggage Claim

I stand at the baggage claim at the airport with my eyes on the conveyor belt opening and my hands in my pockets, not bothering to hide my boredom. This is my least favourite part of travelling. My bag always seems to come out later rather than sooner, but I always have to get here first because the one time I didn't, I missed mine and had to stay the longest.

A girl trundles up next to me pushing a large trolley designed for a lot more than one suitcase. She's not wearing a uniform, so I can only assume her family have sent her to fetch all of their luggage for them, and can't help but feel sorry for her. I offer her a sympathetic smile, and she grins at me quite cheerfully, so I guess she doesn't mind their treating her like a doormat.

A pink Hello Kitty suitcase comes down the line and the girl makes a grab for it. She's far too old to like that nonsense herself, so I assume it's for a younger sister. A Ben 10 and a Mickey Mouse shortly follow it, and I'm beginning to see just why her parents need her help; they must be pretty overwhelmed with all those youngsters.

There's a run of boring solid-colour suitcases and neither of us make any move for them. They're collected by people up the line, who don't feel the need to stand right by the front of the conveyor belt. The silence stretches between us two oddballs, helped along with a few furtive glances. I'm about to break it out of uncomfortableness, say something commiseratory about her family, when a pirate-themed case rounds the corner. It's covered in witty patches and buttons, and has a skull and crossbones flag taped to its side that I'm amazed hasn't gotten ripped off somewhere in transport. She takes this one eagerly, eyes lighting up and almost her whole demeanour changing. I smile. That bag certainly seems to suit a teenager, and that lit-up smile very much suits her.

"Nice suitcase," I offer instead of commiseration, trying to share in her happiness.

The girl looks at me in surprise, blinks, looks confused, and tilts her head to her side before answering me. Her whole body language changes, as if she's only just noticed me there and had to adjust to the new information. I guess she wasn't expecting the English accent; most people don't even think I speak the language with this dark skin. I try not to be too annoyed by that.

"Um, thanks." She says, looking a little flustered and going a little red; I wonder if I've done something wrong. Her face scrunches up in confusion again after a second. "Which one?"

Two more non-boring cases round the corner as we're talking. One is dark purple, covered in rubber spikes, and graffiti-tagged all over; the other decorated with a rainbow of beads, small but intricate charms hanging off of every zipper. The girl makes a grab for both of them, placing them precariously on top of the rest in the trolley, now stacked as high as it can safely go.

"Your pirate one of course, although the rest of your family's are quite interesting as well."

"What?" The confused look on her face intensifies for a moment, then collapses into a fit of smiling laughter as she works out what I'm saying. "Oh no, these are all mine. We need a suitcase for every alter." Her stance changes again as she turns on her heel, then she races the trolley through the airport with all the excitement and energy of a ten-year-old.

I can only stare after her in shock and awe. When I eventually turn back around I'm just in time to catch a glimpse of my own bag disappearing down the line.