Chapter Text
In his headphones, a playlist that Woody had downloaded for Andy before the trip played softly: a mix of children's songs, cheerful melodies, and some of the little one's favorites. The notes sounded just above the constant hum of the airplane engines. Woody knew he needed them; after so many hours confined to a seat, any child would be restless, and Andy was no exception.
The view from above was beautiful. The sky seemed to stretch into infinity, painted in golden, orange, and pink tones. The sun was beginning to hide among the clouds, spilling a warm light that made them look like mountains of cotton bathed in honey. Sometimes, the plane would pass thru small layers of fog and everything would turn white for a few seconds before the landscape reappeared.
Woody let out a soft sigh and settled more comfortably in his seat. They had been traveling for hours and the fatigue was beginning to weigh on his shoulders. With a tender smile, he stroked the small chestnut head resting against him. Andy shifted restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position after sitting for so long. His eyelids struggled to stay open, but the excitement of the journey was stronger than sleep.
—Mom... I can't sleep. What time will we arrive? You said it was almost there...
Andy looked up, rubbing his eye with his fist as he observed Woody with a sleepy expression. His voice was laden with fatigue and curiosity.
Woody let out a small laugh and gave him a playful smile.
—Right away, cowboy. We're very close, look.
Carefully, he lifted him into his arms so he could get a better look out the window. Andy placed his hands on the glass and opened his eyes in astonishment. Between the gaps in the clouds, the city lights began to be distinguished, tiny bright dots that flickered like stars on the ground. Further ahead, the Wellington runway stretched illuminated amidst the growing darkness, getting larger as the plane descended.
Andy's heart skipped a little with excitement.
—I see it!
"I told you," Woody replied, brushing a rebellious lock of hair from his forehead. Welcome to New Zealand, cowboy.
For the first time in hours, the fatigue seemed to disappear from the child's face as he watched, fascinated, the landscape slowly approaching beneath them.
The plane finally landed on the runway with a slight jolt. The wheels screeched as they touched the asphalt, and for a few seconds, the entire fuselage vibrated as the aircraft slowed down. Shortly after, the pilot's voice echoed thru the speakers announcing their arrival. He spoke quickly in English with an accent that Woody could barely understand. He caught a few scattered words, something about the temperature and the welcome to Wellington, but he didn't pay much attention to it.
As soon as the seatbelt sign turned off, the usual movement inside the plane began. The passengers stood up almost at the same time, opening compartments and stretching after so many hours sitting. Woody unbuckled his seatbelt and left Andy settled in the seat while he reached for the luggage in the overhead compartment.
They didn't bring many things. A couple of suitcases, some backpacks, and the bare essentials to start a new life. Everything else had been left behind. That idea caused her a strange mix of nerves and excitement.
She stood on tiptoe to reach the largest suitcase. When he managed to move it, he discovered it weighed much more than he remembered. He pulled it hard and the luggage slid forward abruptly. The weight made him lose his balance and he almost fell backward onto the seats.
—¡Woah!
He managed to stabilize himself at the last second, grabbing onto the nearest seatback. The suitcase fell heavily to the floor of the plane with a dull thud that made several people turn their heads.
"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry," he murmured, embarrassed.
He tried to organize the luggage as quickly as possible, but his movements were clumsy and slow. The passengers behind him were starting to pile up in the aisle.
"—Friend, could you hurry up? —said a man from several rows back with evident impatience."
Woody's cheeks turned red.
—Yes, of course. Sorry. I'm done.
He took the suitcases with one hand and lifted Andy with the other. The little one was still half asleep and rested his head on his shoulder without protest. With the combined weight of the suitcases, the backpack, and the child, walking down the narrow aisle of the plane became a true impossible mission.
Every few steps, he accidentally bumped into a seat or hit someone with a suitcase wheel.
—Sorry.
A little further ahead, one of the wheels ran over a lady's foot.
—Oh!
—Sorry! Sorry! I'm really sorry.
The woman looked at him with annoyance, but Woody was already too busy trying to move forward to stop and explain himself.
Descending the airplane stairs wasn't easy either. The cool Wellington wind hit his face as soon as he stepped outside, making Andy cling to him a little tighter. As he descended the steps, the suitcases swung dangerously with each step. On one occasion, he stumbled and almost lost his balance, causing several people behind him to hold their breath.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he assured quickly, although he himself didn't seem very convinced.
When he finally set both feet on the track, he let out a long sigh of relief. He was disheveled, blushing, and completely exhausted, but they had made it. Before them lay Wellington, an unknown city full of possibilities.
And, for the first time since the journey began, Woody felt that the true beginning of his adventure had just started.
The people. Everything was different.
From the moment he entered the airport, Woody felt like he had arrived in another world. It wasn't just the language or the announcements echoing thru the speakers; it was the way people walked, spoke, and even dressed. Everything seemed to operate with a silent precision that made him feel strangely out of place.
The spurs on his boots jingled softly with each step, producing a metallic sound that stood out against the muted murmur of the terminal. Around him, most people wore elegant shoes with silent soles, modern sneakers, or expensive-looking footwear that barely made a sound when walking. He, on the other hand, seemed to announce his presence with every movement.
Her clothes didn't help either. The worn jeans and the yellow shirt with black stripes stood out among the dark coats, impeccable suits, and neutral-colored garments that predominated in the airport. Grays, blacks, deep blues, and cool tones seemed to form part of some kind of invisible uniform that everyone understood except him.
For a moment, he had the feeling of being a splash of color in an overly orderly photograph.
Everything was so... neat.
So organized.
So different.
He came from a place where the days began with the crowing of roosters and ended when the sun disappeared behind the horizon. A place where taking care of horses, repairing fences, and helping with household chores were part of the daily routine. A place where people greeted each other by name and where there was always time for a conversation on the porch while the coffee slowly cooled.
That was different.
The bright lights, the electronic panels, the conversations in different languages, and the constant movement of people made him feel small. As if he had entered a place for which no one had given him instructions.
And then there were the looks.
They weren't open or shameless. No one said anything. No one pointed at him. However, some people observed his boots, others his clothes, others the worn-out suitcases he dragged behind him. Quick, fleeting glances, but enough to make him feel that he stood out too much.
Woody looked down for a second.
I had come all the way there for Andy.
He had left behind everything he knew to give him a better opportunity, a broader future, more possibilities than he had ever had. However, for a moment, as he walked among that impeccably dressed crowd, he felt the world silently reminding him that opportunities were not always handed out easily.
Maybe he would have to earn them.
Maybe I would have to prove that I deserved to be there.
He clenched his jaw slightly and took a slow breath.
He couldn't afford to doubt now.
He took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs. Then he lifted her head and moved on. He ignored the curious looks, the whispers he thot he heard, and the feeling of not fitting in. He adjusted Andy better in his arms, settling the sleepy head of the little one on his shoulder.
"Come on, cowboy," he murmured with a small smile.
And he continued walking toward the exit.
The automatic doors opened in front of them and a gust of fresh air hit their faces.
Woody watched the unfamiliar city stretching beyond the airport.
—Howdy, Wellington —he murmured to himself.
No matter how different that place was, no matter how many times he felt out of place, he had already made a decision.
Upon leaving the airport, Woody had to stop for a few seconds.
The city rose before him like something out of another world. Tall glass buildings reflected the last orange hues of the sunset, while the lights began to turn on one by one in the windows. However, what caught his attention the most was the vegetation. There were trees everyplace, lined up along the streets, surrounding buildings, and spreading across the hills that could be seen in the distance. Even in the middle of the city, nature seemed to find a place to grow.
It was beautiful.
Strange, but beautiful.
Woody adjusted his grip on the suitcases and continued moving forward. The old wheels squeaked on the asphalt, dragging along with difficulty. Every few meters, a small stone would get stuck in the worn wheels, forcing him to pull harder to keep moving forward.
—Come on... come on... —he murmured while giving a small tug.
The suitcase finally jumped over the obstacle with a sharp thud.
At that moment, a gust of fresh air swept down the sidewalk.
Andy moved away immediately.
—Mom!
The boy opened his eyes suddenly, as if he had regained all his energy at once.
—Mom, look! How big!
Woody let out a soft chuckle.
—I know, cowboy.
He carefully lowered him from his arms and took his small hand. Andy began to look in all directions, marveling at everything he saw. The cars, the buildings, the neon signs, and even the people seemed to spark his curiosity.
Together they walked to what Woody assumed was a taxi stand.
At least that's what it seemed.
There were vehicles constantly coming in and out, and several people waiting near the sidewalk.
Woody left the suitcases by his side, adjusted the hat on his head, and raised an arm.
He waited.
A taxi passed by.
Then another one.
And one more.
None of them slowed down.
He frowned.
Maybe they hadn't seen it.
He raised his arm again, this time waving it with more energy.
Two more taxis passed in front of him without stopping.
Surprised, he waved his hand even more.
The only thing he managed to do was attract the attention of several people walking in the area. Some watched him with curiosity before continuing on their way.
Woody began to feel a bit embarrassed.
Was I doing something wrong?
He looked at a person waiting near him and gave them a friendly smile.
—Howdy.
He slightly tipped his hat as a greeting.
The other person seemed surprised for a second, but ended up giving a small smile back.
Then he approached.
—Sir, are you looking for a taxi?
English reached Woody's ears like an incomplete puzzle. He recognized some words and tried to piece them together as best he could.
"Yes," he replied with a strong accent. Taxi.
The person nodded.
—You need to order it from an app on your phone.
Woody blinked.
—An... application?
The word seemed familiar to him, but not enough.
I had the suspicion that this new life was going to be much more complicated than I had imagined.
He slowly took his phone out of his pocket.
The young woman observed the phone for a few seconds.
Her expression changed slightly upon seeing how old it was. It wasn't a broken or unusable model, but it did seem to have survived several years of constant use. The screen had some scratches, and the device took several seconds to respond when she tried to open the app store.
—Oh...
The girl let out a small, restrained laugh.
Woody didn't exactly understand why, but he suspected it had something to do with his phone.
"—Very old?" he asked in clumsy English.
"A little bit," she replied with a kind smile.
The app download progressed at a painfully slow pace. The bar seemed to move barely a few millimeters every now and then. While they waited, Andy entertained himself by watching the cars coming in and out of the airport.
—Look, mommy. That one is red.
—Aha.
—And that one has big lights.
—Aha.
—And that one looks like a race car.
—I don't think it's a race car, cowboy.
The young woman looked up from her phone for a moment.
Her gaze shifted from Andy to Woody.
Then he returned to Andy.
A small expression of confusion crossed his face.
He didn't say anything, but he seemed to be trying to understand something.
"Mom?" he finally asked, pointing at Woody cautiously, as if he wanted to make sure he had heard correctly.
Woody blinked.
—Yes.
The girl seemed even more confused for a second.
Woody was already used to those reactions.
From the outside, most people assumed he was Andy's father. Some corrected the child. Others simply stood there, trying to decipher the situation.
Andy, however, responded before Woody could.
—It's my mommy.
He said it with complete naturalness, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
The young woman slightly opened her eyes.
—Oh.
He looked at Woody again.
Woody simply smiled, somewhat embarrassed.
—It's a long story.
That seemed to be enough. The girl didn't insist any further and went back to focusing on her phone.
A few seconds later, he finished setting up the app and handed it back to him.
—Here you order the taxis —he said slowly, pointing to the screen—. You enter the address... and the taxi comes.
She tried to use simple words and speak clearly so that he could understand her better.
Woody stared at the screen with concentration, as if he were studying a complicated map.
—Address... taxi is coming.
—Yes. Exactly.
—Oh.
Finally, he seemed to understand.
He took the phone with both hands and made a small instinctive bow.
—Thank you very much, miss.
She probably didn't understand all the words, but she did understand the gesture.
—No problem —he replied, smiling.
Before walking away, he cast one last curious glance at them. Andy was still holding Woody's hand while excitedly telling him about all the cars he had seen.
The young woman's initial confusion seemed to transform into something warmer.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Good luck," he said before saying goodbye.
Woody tipped his hat slightly.
—Howdy.
The young woman let out a small laugh.
—Howdy.
That made Woody smile contentedly.
He looked at the screen again and, guided by the few instructions he had managed to understand and the address he had carefully noted on a piece of paper in his pocket, managed to request a taxi.
When the travel confirmation appeared, he let out the breath he had been holding without realizing it.
A small victory.
The first of many.
He carefully put the phone away and took Andy's hand again.
"Are we leaving already?" asked the boy.
—Yes, cowboy.
—To our house?
The word made Woody pause for a moment.
I still didn't know if that place would ever feel like home. Nor how long it would take them to adapt. I didn't even know if I had made all the right decisions.
But she saw the confirmation message on the screen, the suitcases at her feet, and Andy smiling up at her.
And for the first time since they landed, the uncertainty didn't seem so terrifying.
"—Yes," he finally replied, gently squeezing her small hand—. To our house.