By Sean Dietrich
Kansas City International Airport. I was standing in a long, LONG line, waiting to board my plane. We were like cattle, clogging up the chute. Nobody was happy.
Namely, because yesterday the whole world underwent a historic global internet outage, which delayed and canceled nearly 3,000 American flights. And on this particular historic day in human civilization, I happened to be flying.
You could see boiling anger and frustration on every face in the airport.
The young man in line ahead of me was with his mother. He was maybe 15. He had Down syndrome. He was shouting hellos to people in line. He was a natural comedian. He was Mister Personality.
And you couldn’t help but smile when the kid landed his miracle gaze on you.
“Hello!” the boy shouted to a businessman in line. “How are you today?!”
The business guy was on the phone, having a heated conversation at the time.
“Uh, I don’t know,” the guy says.
hen the boy hugged the man. “Does this help!?” he said.
The businessman tentatively hugged back. Until, finally, he broke a smile, ended up terminating the phone call, and he said to the boy, midhug, “I guess I’m good, how are you?”
“It’s not ‘good,’” the boy said. “You never say ‘I’m good,’ it’s bad grammar. It’s WELL. You should have told me, you’re doing WELL!”
Everyone laughed at that. All the people in line, in foul moods, some of whom had been living in KCI for the past 20 hours, surviving on vending machine food, actually began chuckling.
The businessman was laughing too, when he said, “Okay, then I am doing WELL, and how are you today?”
“I’m good,” the boy said.
More laughter.
Then the boy addressed another woman in line. She was playing on her phone. She was mid-forties. She looked like she’d just sucked a lemon.
“Hi,” the kid said.
She looked up from her phone.
“Um. Hi?” she replied.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Laura.”
“Can I give you a hug, Laura?”
Laura looked around. “Um. I don’t think so.”
He hugged her anyway. He even closed his eyes. Laura was taken off guard. She put her phone away and committed to the hug.
“You smell good,” the kid said.
“Thanks,” she said.
“What about me?” he said. “Do I smell good too?”
Laura looked around again. “Sure.”
This made her laugh. Which was exactly what the boy was aiming for, of course.
The kid approached several others in line. I watched people’s rancid attitudes fade, one by one. And I watched a few hundred delayed airline passengers start to smile.
When it was time to board the plane, the kid stepped back in line. His comedy routine was over. He was with his mom once again. He was quiet.
“That’s one remarkable boy,” I whispered to his mother.
She smiled.
“He has a gift,” she said. “He can make anyone smile. And I mean ANYONE.”
“He must inherit that gift from you?” I said.
She laughed. “Lord, no. His biological parents left him in a dumpster as a baby, behind a restaurant.” She used a pinky to dab away a tear. “I was just the one who was lucky enough to find him.”
Some folks get all the luck.
Sean Dietrich is a writer, humorist, novelist, and biscuit connoisseur, known for his commentary and stories on life in the American South.
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