My suitcase, the one holding everything I had needed for the trip, had fallen out somewhere onto the long expressway
By Nazarul Islam | USA
A few months ago, I was traveling to Türkiye (which I have narrated a few times, at social gatherings), and my Air France flight was out of Chicago’s ORD. I live in the suburb of Naperville, IL, so I hired a cab service to take me to this busy airport. I felt I would be able to edit my long article, and relax during the one hour drive. Well, we were finally on our way, so I pulled out my phone and headphones, mentally running through a checklist and listening to a podcast.
Everything was in place — or so I thought. Then, out of nowhere, I started to hear cars honking behind us.
I looked up at the Egyptian driver through the rearview mirror. He suddenly stared back and screamed “Oh no!” Then he uttered something that sounded like a curse, in his native language.
Instantly, my heart had dropped. I whipped around to see the cab’s trunk wide open. My suitcase, the one holding everything I had needed for the trip, had fallen out somewhere onto the long expressway, I-88. The driver swerved to the shoulder, threw on the hazard lights and, without a second thought, like a flax had managed to jump of the car.
Before I could stop him, he had dashed into the chaos of speeding cars. Horns suddenly blared loudly— my suitcase was somewhere out there, but it was completely out of sight. I didn’t know how far back it had fallen out.
Panic set in, but then I remembered my saving grace: A few hours ago, I had slipped an AirTag into my luggage. I have been doing this to check on my baggage location, after my luggage does not arrive, and the belt has stopped moving in the carousel of the Baggage Claims.
My quick reflexes helped me to open up the App on my I-phone, nervously watching through the window as the dot on my phone blinked a few hundred feet behind us.
“HEY!” I shouted to the driver. He jogged back, breathless but determined. I could not believe this man was running into traffic. Committed, nonetheless. I explained we had to get off the expressway and loop around to get it. That really took 15 minutes of praying my suitcase and materials inside weren’t flattened on the road by trucks that had followed my cab.
My eyes were glued to the AirTag’s location. We finally approached the spot, and there, against all odds, was my suitcase. Miraculously untouched by traffic, it had rolled on to the side of the highway, because of inertia. There it was, sitting down sat on the side of the road, and smiling at me.
The driver retrieved it with a relieved grin, and I couldn’t help but laugh— partly from the adrenaline and partly because of how absurd this story had turned out, because there was nobody with me to experience this. “You guys will never believe what just happened,” I texted my family group chat.
As we pulled back onto the highway, my suitcase now sitting next to me rather than in the trunk. I settled into my seat, feeling like I’d already had a mini-adventure before even reaching the airport.
Read: Mental Health Crisis Deepens in Pakistan
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The Bengal-born writer Nazarul Islam is a senior educationist based in USA. He writes for Sindh Courier and the newspapers of Bangladesh, India and America. He is author of a recently published book ‘Chasing Hope’ – a compilation of his articles.
