Treaties and Compromise Cont...

Europe was only the beginning of Melodie's adventures. The plane wheels gently graced the cement runway before coming to a fast abrupt halt. Melodie used the force from her hand in order to avoid smashing into the seat in front of her.

"Welcome to New York City..." Melodie heard the airline attendant announce over the intercom. The voice began briefing the passengers on exiting procedures but Melodie's attention wandered outside of the aircraft. The airport scenery brushed by slower and slower as the aircraft circled around to its designated spot. Melodie watched as the workers scattered about in preparation for the flight's arrival.

"I just don't understand how you can throw away an opportunity this important," Melodie's grandmother shoved the tray of food into the stove.

"Mormor, I've told you. The university isn't for me," Melodie argued.

"It is not always about you young lady! Do you know how many Sweedish children would kill to be accepted to that American University...what's it called...?" Her grandmother waved the spatula in her hand towards Melodie's direction.

"Yale," Melodie shot her grandfather a glance. He had learned a long time ago that it was best to remain quiet when his two girls quarreled.

"That's right, Yale. Girls your age should be attending universities not gallivanting around the world," her grandmother dropped the spatula into the bowl a little harder than she had originally anticipated. She proceeded to take her frustration out on the golden syrup mixture. Knäck was Melodie's favorite Christmas treat, and no one could make it better than her grandmother.

"Mormor, I'll be fine," Melodie wrapped her arms tightly around her grandmother, "I'll send you a postcard from every place I see...I promise."

"Our sweet Melodie has been following her own rhythm since she could walk," Melodie's grandfather winked at her over his reading material, "I don't think there's any stopping her now, Ingrid."

"Every week," her grandmother finally caved, "We receive a postcard every week, or I'll track you down and drag you to Yale myself."

"Thank you Mormor," Melodie kissed her grandmother's cheek.

Melodie waited anxiously as the airline attendant wrapped up the farewell. She touched the tips of her fingers to the temples of her head still remembering the pain she had felt in Spain. Melodie had never fully understood why she had collapsed. When the seat belt light had finally disappeared, Melodie quickly pulled her backpack from under the seat and her duffle bag from the overhead compartment. Let the adventures begin.