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Five minutes before my flight was due to leave, they began passenger calls over the PA system. I finished my tea and headed for the gate to get my ticket checked, and board. I noticed that the young man ahead of me looked oddly familiar, but I thought nothing of it at the moment. As I followed him through the terminal and onto the plane, something kept nagging at me that I'd seen that face before. But the baseball cap and sunglasses made it difficult to identify the wearer, which I had a feeling, was the purpose. I was no little surprised when I saw the young man sit in the seat next to mine. Very curious and mildly confused, I carefully stowed my carry-on, after removing my cd player and book. Standing nervously next to the young man, I quietly said, "Excuse me, can I get through? My seat's next to the window."
"Huh? Oh, sure luv," he said, standing up so I could get past.
"Ta mucho," I automatically replied, concentrating on his accent, which was definitely British. but I heard a slight Liverpudlian inflection to it, not one from having lived there, but from being exposed to it at home. I surmissed that one of his parents must be Liverpudlian.
Deciding to leave my glasses on, I tried not to stare at him overly much. Instead, I stole furtive glances at him out of the corner of my eye, and over my book. It was bothering me to no end that I couldn't figure out why his face looked to familiar. Where have I seen that face before? If only he would take off those bloody shades and that hat!
Occassionally, when I snuck a look at him, I caught him looking at me. I couldn't imagine why. I certainly wasn't terribly attractive, at least not in my opinion anyway. It was probably my outfit, which looked like it had come straight out of the sixties.
Finally, he gently tapped me on my shoulder to get my attention (I had my headphones on).
"Excuse me, I'm sorry I didn't introduce meself earlier. I'm Dhani, uh, Harrington," he said quietly.
I immediately caught his slight hesitation on his last name. That completely solved the mystery of who this young man was. He was Dhani Harrison, son of my favourite Beatle, George Harrison. Being the nice person that I am, I figured I'd let him get away with the fake last name for a little while.
I extended my hand to Dhani, and said, "Nice to meet ya Dan, I'm Sienna Fitzpatrick."
"Pleasure's mine Sienna," he said with a smile that reminded me of his dad.
"You won't be sayin' that if ya get to know me better Mr. Harrington, " I said laughing and putting extra emphasis on his last name.
Dhani raised his eyebrow at this, getting the feeling that I knew exactly who he really was.
I smiled, and leaning over, I whispered conspiratorily, "Yes, I do know that your last name isn't really Harrington. It's Harrison. But that doesn't mean a jot. If I decide to like ya, I'll do so; but not because of who you're related to."
At this, Dhani smiled weakly, and laughed a little bit to release teh tension that had been building up inside of him. I got the inkling that with that one little statement I had won him over.
Genuinely smiling now, he asked, "So what CD are ya listenin' to?"
"Abbey Road. It's one of me favs," I answered, smiling back.
"Ah, so yer a fan of the Beatles then?" he inquired.
I looked down at my outfit, back at him, down again at my CD player, and at Dhani again. "What do YOU think? Of course I am! I love an' respect 'em a great deal."
Dhani laughed at my sarcasm, and said, "I figured as much. When I saw yer outfit, I kinda knew you were a fan of the sixties, if not the Beatles."
"Well, you were right on both accoutnts Dhani. I not only love the Beatles, but many of the other groups from that time. My second favourite band is Led Zeppelin."
"Wow, that's quite a wide spectrum Sienna."
"Not really. If you listen to teh music of both groups, you can find some similiarites between them."
"I never really thought about it like that before. I'll bet ya tha' me dad has though!"
Laughing, I said, "I wouldn't doubt it! Now, for the million dollar question," while Dhani looked dubious.
"What are ya doin' in the US? I know you're long since doen with college."
"Oh! I was visitin' me aunt Lou," he said, looking much relieved.
"My turn now Sienna. What are ya doin' goin' ta England?" Dhani asked me, smiling.
"Well," I said, grinning broadly, "I'm goin' to London to study for a year. Well, a school year anyroad."
"Really? That's cool! What year are ya?"
"I'm a junior at Elmira College."
At his blank look, I said, "It's in New York State. Close to the New York/PA border."
"Oh. What's yer major then?"
"Double major actually. Art and english, with a spanish and music minor," I said proudly.
"Wow, you don' wanna do much do ya?"
"Nope, no' a' 'tall," I said.
"'Sides, keeps ya busy, eh?" I said, rubbing my hands together.
Dhani immediately identified that as one of the lines from 'Help!', and slapped his forehead with a laugh.
"Yer not gonna start quotin' movie lines at me are ya?"
Smiling evily, I said, "I might, I might not. What's it to ya?"
"Ah man, now I know what dad means when he says John was both hilarious, an' infuriating at the same time!"
Laughing, I said, while smiling sweetly, "I try luv, I try."
Dhani shook his head and laughed; while some of the older passengers gave us dirty looks for disturbing the peace. This only made us laugh harder, which in turn meant more dirty looks for us. Finally, we managed to calm ourselves down enough that we could quietly talk. And talk we did. For the entire 6 1/2 hour flight.
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