Somewhere over the Pacific he must have finally slipped into some kind of slumber, because the next thing Jim knew his disagreeable seatmate was pushing past him into the aisle and grabbing their bag. He unfolded himself from the seat and reached up for his bag, patting his pocket and finding the printouts of his hostel reservation and directions still there, which was reassuring. He pondered as he shifted the bag to his other shoulder whether he’d actually packed enough for a week in Australia. Seven days of clothes, toiletries, two jackets (he still wasn’t clear how warm or cold it was here in June) and The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde had seemed like enough when he was just trying desperately to get out of Scranton. Now that he was in Sydney (well, wherever the airport actually was, it was close enough as made no bones about being Sydney) it suddenly seemed mightily inadequate. Ah well, as his mother used to say anytime they went on a trip, Australia was a civilized country. You could probably buy things there.

He shuffled off the plane and out into the airport. It was, well, exceedingly similar to Los Angeles and Philadelphia before it. But as he changed his money (dollars into…dollars (AUS)) and wandered only somewhat aimlessly towards the train that would whisk him away to the central business district, he nevertheless felt strange. Alienated. Adrift. Maybe it was the snatches of unfamiliar slang dropped in an unfamiliar (if widely parodied) accent. Maybe it was the spelling on the signs, with all their excessive uses of the letter u. Maybe it was the sense that everyone else knew what they were doing and had direction, while he was simply letting himself float along the tide.

Or maybe it was the fact that even when he’d thought about this trip in his mind, he’d always had Pam with him. Even though he was trying to get away from her wedding, he couldn’t stop her from riding along, ticket-free, in his head.

**

CHEAPOAIR actually lived up to its name, a first in Pam’s experience of online advertisements. At first she dabbled around the idea that had popped up in her head, checking flights to less exciting locales: Cleveland, Biloxi, Albuquerque. But finally she zeroed into the plan she’d had all along.

Sydney, Australia.

Leaving today. Returning when she knew Jim did, in a week.

$1000.

What the hell. It was only money.