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Chapter 178: Turmoil in His Words

Huxley nods as he puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking spot. He's blissfully unaware of the turmoil his words created.

Huxley didn't fly to the Pelican Bay airport on his way here. He rented a car and drove from the larger airport in Portland. He's never been to the Pelican Bay airport, which means he doesn't realize the place is barely an airport. I'm not sure if it's even legally called one. One of the landing strips is just dirt and grass. It's not even paved. Only a few planes ever fly in and out of the airport — if I'm forced to call it that — most of them local small prop planes flown by residents in the city for fun. I saw a FedEx plane there once, but not a real plane. The plane I was expecting to ride in. A big one with seat belts, and oxygen masks, and a drink cart.

Images of James, the pilot who flew me to the small island on my trip to Hawaii, come back to memory. He's also the reason I'm currently going to church every Sunday because I made a promise on
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