Martin Barkawitz [Barkawitz - Killer Girls

Kea Kuhn smiled her fear away as the jet from Frankfurt, Germany, approached the landing strip of New Yorks JFK airport. In a few minutes she would stand for the first time on American soil. She had sacrificed her whole past life, her family and her friends within just two weeks for a change of heart. And all that because of

Tom reached for her hand.

Scared, darling? See, we have almost reached our destination.

Kea shook her head.

No, Im fine, honest.

It was a partial lie. She felt no sudden boding, no panic of a disastrous landing. Instead, Kea only realized at this moment that she had reached the threshold of a totally new life before her. She had only one person to depend on. And he sat beside her, holding her hand as if everything was normal in her world. It seemed almost impossible that Tom had fallen in love with her.

To hell with all men! That was what Kea and her best friend Ines had sworn last New Years Eve, when Kea had cried her eyes out over Frank. Yet now, barely six months later, she had decided to move in with Tom in Manhattan.

When they left the passenger plane through the gangway, she pulled herself together. She had heard the worst about the U.S. immigration control service. Foreigners were screened like in a criminal investigation, they said.

The queue moved at snail pace toward the checkpoint. It left plenty of time for her fear to grow.

Did she look suspicious? No, that seemed unlikely. Kea wore a smart beige trouser suit that seemed plain and almost old-fashioned. Her blond hair was cut shoulder-length and tidy, so that she appeared respectable, if a little boring perhaps.

Could you put that in your baggage?

Without waiting for an answer, Tom pushed a small leather bag in her hand. It looked like a make-up container.

Why cant you take it through customs yourself? She asked, a little puzzled.

He smiled at her.

You and I are a team now, darling. Please, just do as I ask.

Kea decided not to make a fuss. Besides, it might attract the attention of the men in uniform if she started an argument now. She pushed the proffered container into her large shoulder bag, although suddenly troubled by a feeling of doubts that grew stronger with every minute.

Why had Tom asked her to do this?

Was it some form of finding out whether he could trust her?

What did the leather bag contain?

She forced herself to breathe deeply. Tom stood close behind her, which meant she would have to face the controls first, She only had a tourist visa while Tom could show an investors visa since he intended to found a business in the United States.

What if the bag should contain something illegal?

Then he could raise his hands in feigned innocence that there was no direct connection between the two of them. They had planned to marry in Las Vegas, after which it would be no problem to remain longer even after her own visa had run out.

The elderly Japanese couple before her had passed the control without trouble. It was Keas turn. She handed her passport to the young officer together with her visa. Her jaw felt tight with the effort of smiling.

Was it the uniforms? Something suddenly reminded her of that dark, terrible secret in her past. What if they knew?

The air smelled of disinfectant and sweat. Her own sweat of fear?

What is the purpose of your visit to the United States?, asked the immigration officer.

Kea asked herself how often he had to repeat that question in the course of each day of his duty. Did this routine really serve to filter wrong-doers from the sheer endless crowds?

Ah, tourism for as long as the money lasts, Kea stammered. I have heard so much about New York and want to see everything. Broadway, Central Park, China Town and

Welcome in the United States.

With those word the officer stamped Keas passport. She felt the strain ease. Unfortunately she had forgotten customs control.

Its officer was a man in his fifties, with eagle eyes who seemed to take joy in putting unwary travelers ill at ease. A sharp customer, as Keas father might have said. He called her over at once. Kea avoided casting a look for help toward Tom with difficulty. She was a grown woman after all and had to deal with her own problems, she thought with a touch of anger. She was sure, the customs officer had picked on her because he recognized her uncertainty. Why could she not appear as self-assured as other women seemed? Hopefully she would acquire that facility with Tom at her side.

According to the name plate the customer officers name was Bradley. And Bradley wasted no time in asking to check her hand luggage. He simply told her to hand it over. With a measure of routine, his gloved hands rifled through her large handbag. And, of course, the first thing that attracted his interest was the small cursed bag. His eyes narrowed in distrust.

What is in here, Miss?

I, ah

Her breath faltered, the blood pounding like mad in her temples. How could she know? For a few moments she cursed Tom silently to have put her in this situation. She saw herself already in some American prison. And she doubted it would be much fun.

Patience was not a virtue of Bradleys character. He waited no longer for an answer, but unzipped the bag. With practiced ease he rummaged around in its contents and unearthed an item that seemed to have found his interest.

It was a babys dummy.

That would not have been unusual, had Kea been in the company of a baby. What was also unusual was the absence of nappies, tissues and baby powder as well as the paraphernalia a mother carried for her child. No doubt, Bradley found it strange. Kea noticed the wedding ring on his hand. He was probably a father, perhaps even grandfather. Certainly, his face mirrored suspicion, Kea felt. He held out the dummy, or what they called a comforter in America, accusingly.

Whats this, Miss? Are you trying to make fun of me?

Kea searched desperately for a convincing answer. She was childless, had never been pregnant. Her relationships in the past had never led to family planning. It was different with Tom. She would have loved to bear him a child. But before it could come to that, she had to deal with this tricky situation.

That is a sad reminder, do you understand? My baby died at birth.

She uttered the sentences haltingly and started to weep. Kea was not one of those women who could cry on command. Now the tears burst from her eyes, not from sorrow, for in truth none of this had ever happened. The lie had come quite unexpectedly into her mind.

Still, through the veil of her tears, she seemed to recognize a softening of Bradleys face.

He pushed the dummy back into the bag, closed the zip and handed the piece of luggage to her.

Im sorry, my question upset you, Miss. I was only doing my job, okay? Have a pleasant stay in our country.

Kea nodded and dried her eyes while she pressed her bag to her side.

Tom waited beyond the exit for her.

She wanted to ask him what this whole charade was meant to be, what he had thought about it. Why did she have to carry a comforter through customs? Was it just some kind of test? Was he asking himself if she was worthy to become his wife?

No. In all likelihood it was nothing important. Tom had a strange sense of humor. If she asked him about it, he would most likely only laugh and pull her earlobes, knowing she liked it.