I am not ready for the San Francisco International Airport. The Americans built it next to the sea, and it looks like a space station. The other passengers look surprised, too.

I grab my bag from the baggage carousel and turn to see two women looking like they broke out of Pulp Fiction. They are wearing matching tuxedos and one is bald and the other a white woman with black hair. The bald woman holds up a board with a name on it.

“Mr. Mabeta?” she asks.

“Hi, yes, that’s me, but you spelled my name wrong. It’s ‘T-H-A’ at the end,” I explain.

“I’m sorry, sir. My name is Rogue, and this is Ellen. We work for Miss Zai. She is sorry for not being able to come here herself. She has business outside the city,” Rogue says.

“When is she coming back? We were supposed to have our airport movie moment,” I joke.

“Trust me, not being able to come hurt her more,” Ellen says.

Rogue gives her a look.

“Sorry about that. May I take your bag?” Ellen picks it up. The bag has some heavy books inside, but she does not look uncomfortable and starts walking away. I don’t think she likes me.

Rogue and I follow her to a private exit. I look back, and I see serious men in suits enter. They start speaking to the other passengers, and I am glad we are on our way out. I am thinking about the weed I tossed out of the Uber on my way to the Tokyo airport.

We get into a Tesla in an underground parking lot. The only Tesla cars I have seen are online, but none were like this. The car`s interior is designed so seats are on the sides of the car instead of the usual back and front. There are no windows, but HD monitors. I feel like I am sitting in a lounge. The door closes and a light comes on.

“Are you going to put those on?” I ask, my eyes turning to the monitor on the right.

“Unfortunately, we didn`t charge the car before coming to fetch you. It does not have enough power,” Rogue says.

“It would be great to see the city,” I give her my best smile.

Rogue smiles back, but will not change her mind.

“Why are we not moving?” I ask.

“We are moving,” Rogue says, “the car took off as soon as the light came on. It`s self-driving.”

I lean back in my seat and try not to look like a fish out of the water. But the situation gets the best of me, and I can’t help but look out of place.

“It`s worse than flying on a plane,” I complain, “It`s like we are still in the same place. At least when you are flying there are times the plane feels like it is stopping at a red light.”

The two women are looking at me as if I am telling them the most interesting story. The silence is loud and uncomfortable.

“Is Mingxiha`s aunt like super wealthy?” I ask, trying to break the silence.

“Our job is to just get you to Miss Zai,” Ellen says, “We can`t answer your other questions.”

“Okay, but you guys sound like robots.”

I lean back, thinking about Ming. She should have come to fetch me. Now, there is all this mystery. It`s possible I am being paranoid. Maybe the weed has not completely worn off.

Twenty-two hours ago I was in Tokyo, hoping to surprise Mingxia. I was the one surprised, finding out she had flown to San Francisco to visit her aunt. It`s my first time outside of South Africa, and I`m jumping across another ocean. But, I need to see her and look in her eyes. What happens next can either be magical or painful.

Parking is underground, again. Then, I am led into a room, pulling my bag behind me. The room has a bed, bookshelf, closet, and vinyl stacked on the floor. Stanley Turrentine`s “Pieces of a Dream” is playing and there are no windows. I smile, thinking this could be the last night I`m alive.

Tell us: What do you think is going on? Do you think that Ngelosi is going to be okay?