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One Step Home
The first step of the morning was always the most difficult. The siren song of the mattress had a powerful voice, more than any supervillain in the world, but Budi had a routine that served him well. It took seventeen minutes from turning off the annoying buzz of his phone to stepping into a Florida Starbucks with a discount card in hand for his usual order, still smelling fresh from soap and after shave lotion.
“Good morning, Mister Budi,” said the cheerful clerk, placing two cups on the counter in front of the line of impatient people. “Right on the dot. I already processed your order with the card on record.”
“Thank you,” said Budi, scooping up the two cups and dropping a five dollar bill on the counter.
“You’re wel—” The clerk stared at the empty place in front of the counter before turning to his next customer. “Name, sir?”
One step to the office to put one coffee on the end table, a moment to open the top of the lid and take a quick sip, and Bundi checked his phone for his first ride of the day. It was — of course — Miami, which involved a bit of backtracking. The businessman was standing at the Uber pickup point as the order listed, slightly ahead of time and looking slightly uneasy, much like most passengers. He gave a little jump when Budi stepped up beside him and cleared his throat.
“Oh, Mister Budi, I presume?” The businessman put away his phone and picked up his suitcase, then paused as if trying to figure out who would be carrying it on the trip. “It’s within the weight limit on the website,” he added rather weakly.
“Just keep a firm grip on it, sir. I’ll hold you by the elbow, and I’ll need you to step forward when I do, please.” Budi grasped the proffered elbow and gave the nervous passenger a sideways look. “It only takes a moment, and you should not experience any discomfort.”
“I’ve heard that, or I wouldn’t have booked a trip,” said the man, getting lined up and prepared to take his own step. “I had three different travel agents mangle my booking for today— Oh, we’re here,” he added, blinking in the harsh lighting of the LAX Uber pickup area. “Now, all I need is to get a ride to the convention center and I’ll be ready for this morning to start. Thank you, sir.”
“I can drop you off at the entrance of the Hilton next to the convention center,” said Budi. He tried not to cough at the acrid smell of exhaust fumes and jet fuel, but it was inevitable. “That will save you at least an hour in LA traffic. I’d take you to the bus hub in that area, but they’re probably not open yet.”
“Oh, that would be great. When— And we’re here again,” said the businessman at the relative darkness that surrounded them as the towering glass hotel building was not reflecting any of the dawn, still at least an hour away.
“Is this acceptable, sir?” Budi checked his phone as it readjusted to the change in location and cell phone towers. Normally, he restricted himself to the airport pickup and drop spots, but his wife was a ComicCon fan, and he had been to the LA convention center many times. Plus, traffic around LA stunk.
“A darned sight more than just acceptable. Here,” added the businessman as he pressed several twenty-dollar bills into Budi’s hand. “That’s in addition to tipping in the app. I thought this was going to be another one of those superhero flop projects, like Captain Wings air tours of Central Park, or Prince Aquatica’s underwater adventures, but this is worth it at twice the price.”
“It keeps me busy and I don’t have to wear spandex,” said Budi, who was still waiting on his phone to cycle. “Besides, Captain Teleporter really is not a good superhero power. I’ll leave fighting bank robbers and world-ending death rays to the capes.”
“Well, you saved my world and my presentation before the board today,” said the businessman, who pulled out the handle on his suitcase and started to tow it into the hotel lobby. “I owe you, bigtime. Thanks again.”
But he was talking to an empty street, since Budi was headed to his next pickup.
Routine was not a word that fit well with his job. That implied a series of tasks all alike. Instead, Budi had far more different tasks with certain similarities, i.e. they all involved somebody wanting to go somewhere else, in a hurry. Most of his morning passengers were about as normal as ever. One was exceptional.
The nurse let out a little shriek when Budi tapped her on the shoulder, which was something he still had not gotten used to. Instinctive reaction put him two meters back when she whirled around.
“Who are you? I mean, you’re the transportation we’re waiting on? How did you get in here?” The nurse gave a panicked look at the door out of the hospital room, which was only a step away.
“Massachusetts General says you have an organ for transportation to Cedars Sinai,” said Budi, who tucked away his phone and regarded the red and white striped cooler, as well as the paper form taped to the top. “It should be well under my weight limit. Do you need me to sign anything?”
“No, I don’t think—”
The Emergency Room at Cedars Sinai was a maze of activity, and it took Budi a moment to catch the sleeve of a passing nurse. It was probably a little rude to step away like that, but smoothing ruffled feathers cut into his work schedule. “I have an organ transport for delivery, going to—” he checked the paper tag on the cooler “—Doctor Warren. It’s urgent.”
“Oh, you must be Bundi. Just one moment.” The nurse checked something on a nearby terminal and added, “The doctor is doing a transplant in the West Hollywood campus, not here. Do you need any assistance?”
Bundi made a face. “I don’t have a memorized point for that location. Let me check with Center.”
“I’ll make a call to the helipad,” said the nurse, who had a phone handset from her desk already and was dialing.
After a few moments on the phone with Center, Bundi hung up the call with a scowl. “I should probably tag along on the helicopter ride, so I can establish a point for later.”
“There’s going to be a helicopter ready on the roof by the time we get there.” The nurse hefted the cooler onto a cart that an orderly had pushed to them and started in the direction of the elevator. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this. You must have a very busy schedule.”
Bundi glanced at his phone, which had just chirped with a red icon. He talked on the phone for a few minutes while the elevator was traveling, ending the call as the door slid open.
“How long will it take to get to the other hospital? I’ve got an emergency request from one of the hero groups… Well, not that much of an emergency. Fifteen minutes?”
“Twenty, I think,” said the nurse.
The pilot confirmed their travel time, and Budi settled down in the passenger compartment with a spare helmet to protect his hearing. He sent a few text messages, gave a grim chuckle at the response, and generally considered how long it took to travel any distance in Los Angeles even by air. The helicopter slowed to land, then spun the blades down as Budi hefted the cooler.
“Don’t forget the helmet, sir,” said the pilot over the intercom. “People wander off with those all the time.”
“It will just take a minute.” Budi could actually see his destination, and stepped out with the cooler in both hands. It took a little more than a minute in the heli pad office, but he got the donor organ into the hands of the transplant team waiting for it, gave his surroundings a good, long examination, and stepped back into the helicopter. “Beverly Hills,” he said. “Looks nice from up here.”
“Looking is about all I can afford,” said the pilot. “Thanks,” he added when Budi handed him the helmet back.
But he was gone, leaving behind the helmet with a short stack of twenty-dollar bills in it, and a note encouraging the pilot to buy his wife something nice. Which reminded Bundi of something else as he stepped into the Pacific Regional Guardians hanger.
“Hey, Popper!” Ghost Shroud glided down the stairs with practiced ease, waving as she approached. “Sorry for dragging you away from work, but Mechhead took the Guardian Plane apart, and we have an urgent call from Doctor Malacia, claiming that he has hostages.”
“I’ll bet. It’s his birthday, after all.” Budi looked around the hanger, and the various aircraft in various states of repair, mostly in parts. “You really need to get one aircraft for your hero team and lock it away from your local mechanical empath.”
“Wait a minute,” said Shroud, holding up one pale hand. “It’s Doctor Malacia’s birthday, and that’s why she kidnapped some hostages?”
“Nobody ever wants to attend her parties,” said Budi. “I only worked for her a few months, before I found out she was a supervillain. Are you bringing a present?”
“A present?” Ghost Shroud glided to a stop while Budi kept walking in the direction of the canteen.
“The weirder the better,” he called back over his shoulder. “Bonus points if you have no idea what it does. I’m going to grab a soda and hit the bathroom.”
By the time he got out of the bathroom, the Guardians had gathered together for transport. Steel Rain lurked in the back, giving furtive little glances at the disassembled aircraft like he could slap a working vehicle together in a few minutes. Cascade strode forward as Budi approached, with hand extended out to shake.
“Glad you’re not taking Susu’s injuries personally, Bud. Doctor Malacia will pay for it this time, I promise.”
Two steps later, Budi was back in the hangar, wiping his hand. “I love your new tank.”
A general wave of embarrassed foot-examination followed. “He’s a temp from Canada,” said Hopscotch. “With Susu out of the group for a while, we needed a heavy hitter. How much longer will she be out?”
“Two or three months,” said Budi while typing on his phone. “She’s in her therapy session right now. Did you find a present for Doctor Malacia?”
“Professor Darkness had this widget during his last bank robbery.” Ghost Shroud held out a metallic widget that seemed to have no real edges or controls. “He couldn’t get it to work, and dropped it when he fled.”
“That’ll keep Doctor Malacia busy for a few weeks. I know of a place that wraps gifts.”
Two steps later, he handed the present back to Shroud, trying not to look at the bright pink bow. “They mostly wrap children’s presents,” he muttered.
It took several more steps to transfer the rest of the group to the East Coast base, where they could get an aircraft that Mechhead had not ‘improved’ yet and make their scheduled appointment. Gemini was the last members to be transferred, mostly because they could not decide which costume to wear.
“Girls, you’re fine,” said Budi, checking his phone. “I’ve got another appointment coming up.”
“But it’s her birthday,” said Gemini.
“There will be photos,” said Gemini. “We need to look different.”
“But still alike,” said Gemini.
“You look fine.” Budi grabbed one elbow in each hand and stepped. “The rest of them are getting on the airplane. Tell Doctor Malacia hi for me, and see if she has my check for the last pay period.”
It was afternoon before Budi had a chance to grab lunch at a hot dog stand. The delay was longer than he expected since an authentic Chicago dog took time to make, and his favorite vendor did not take credit cards. He took a little more time to chat since moving and talking always wound up in a terrible mess, and washed up in a south Texas bathroom that had never disappointed him with their cleanliness. Then it was back to work.
Unfortunately, the afternoon was not as easy.
“Does your mother always take this long to get ready for a vacation?” Budi was kneeling on the thick carpet of the Hilton in order not to tower over the young girl while her father was off trying to encourage his wife to greater effort before their allocated transportation slot was over. The girl was the picture of youthful innocence, the kind of indoors kid who never waded through a mud puddle or climbed an old dangerous tree. She was also the kind of child who was terribly suspicious of crossing large distances with a single step.
“I think mommy’s afraid of you,” stated the child as if it were an inevitable fact of life. “I bet it hurts when you do your magic thing, like my ear infection.” She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her dress sleeve. “Do you have medicine to take like me?”
“No, nothing more than my morning vitamins.” He lowered his voice. “I like the chewable ones that look like cartoon characters.”
“I have to take liquids since I can’t swallow pills,” declared the child. She eyed him for a time, ignoring the other people moving around the hotel lobby. “I wish we could take an airplane.”
“Your father said the altitude change could hurt your ears. How about we start with something short. Like over there.” He pointed at the other side of the hotel lobby.
The girl eyed him back. “Just over there,” she said slowly. “And not all the way to the cruisey ship.”
“You have my word,” said Budi. “One step, not to the cruise ship terminal. I’ll need you to hold my arm, and… Oops.”
The Grand Canyon spread out in front of them in glorious beauty, from the sparse vegetation flowering in scattered places to the reds and browns of layered in horizontal array. It had taken a moment for Budi to come up with a memorized location at roughly the same elevation as Denver, but he did not wait for a reaction and stepped again.
“Machu Picchu,” he said. “The ancient Incans really appreciated their mountains, but—”
The hotel lobby surrounded them again, warm and filled with people who generally ignored them. “Took me a bit to find the other end of the room,” he added to the awestruck child. “Didn’t hurt a bit, did it?”
“My ears popped a little,” she admitted. She yawned and wiggled her jaw. “Worth it.”
In the end, Budi took the child to the cruise terminal in a series of short hops so her ears could adjust, with possibly one or two quick steps to see some of the more scenic outdoor areas that Budi had discovered over the years.
He did not get a tip. It was fine.
“Good morning, Mister Budi,” said the cheerful clerk, placing two cups on the counter in front of the line of impatient people. “Right on the dot. I already processed your order with the card on record.”
“Thank you,” said Budi, scooping up the two cups and dropping a five dollar bill on the counter.
“You’re wel—” The clerk stared at the empty place in front of the counter before turning to his next customer. “Name, sir?”
One step to the office to put one coffee on the end table, a moment to open the top of the lid and take a quick sip, and Bundi checked his phone for his first ride of the day. It was — of course — Miami, which involved a bit of backtracking. The businessman was standing at the Uber pickup point as the order listed, slightly ahead of time and looking slightly uneasy, much like most passengers. He gave a little jump when Budi stepped up beside him and cleared his throat.
“Oh, Mister Budi, I presume?” The businessman put away his phone and picked up his suitcase, then paused as if trying to figure out who would be carrying it on the trip. “It’s within the weight limit on the website,” he added rather weakly.
“Just keep a firm grip on it, sir. I’ll hold you by the elbow, and I’ll need you to step forward when I do, please.” Budi grasped the proffered elbow and gave the nervous passenger a sideways look. “It only takes a moment, and you should not experience any discomfort.”
“I’ve heard that, or I wouldn’t have booked a trip,” said the man, getting lined up and prepared to take his own step. “I had three different travel agents mangle my booking for today— Oh, we’re here,” he added, blinking in the harsh lighting of the LAX Uber pickup area. “Now, all I need is to get a ride to the convention center and I’ll be ready for this morning to start. Thank you, sir.”
“I can drop you off at the entrance of the Hilton next to the convention center,” said Budi. He tried not to cough at the acrid smell of exhaust fumes and jet fuel, but it was inevitable. “That will save you at least an hour in LA traffic. I’d take you to the bus hub in that area, but they’re probably not open yet.”
“Oh, that would be great. When— And we’re here again,” said the businessman at the relative darkness that surrounded them as the towering glass hotel building was not reflecting any of the dawn, still at least an hour away.
“Is this acceptable, sir?” Budi checked his phone as it readjusted to the change in location and cell phone towers. Normally, he restricted himself to the airport pickup and drop spots, but his wife was a ComicCon fan, and he had been to the LA convention center many times. Plus, traffic around LA stunk.
“A darned sight more than just acceptable. Here,” added the businessman as he pressed several twenty-dollar bills into Budi’s hand. “That’s in addition to tipping in the app. I thought this was going to be another one of those superhero flop projects, like Captain Wings air tours of Central Park, or Prince Aquatica’s underwater adventures, but this is worth it at twice the price.”
“It keeps me busy and I don’t have to wear spandex,” said Budi, who was still waiting on his phone to cycle. “Besides, Captain Teleporter really is not a good superhero power. I’ll leave fighting bank robbers and world-ending death rays to the capes.”
“Well, you saved my world and my presentation before the board today,” said the businessman, who pulled out the handle on his suitcase and started to tow it into the hotel lobby. “I owe you, bigtime. Thanks again.”
But he was talking to an empty street, since Budi was headed to his next pickup.
Routine was not a word that fit well with his job. That implied a series of tasks all alike. Instead, Budi had far more different tasks with certain similarities, i.e. they all involved somebody wanting to go somewhere else, in a hurry. Most of his morning passengers were about as normal as ever. One was exceptional.
The nurse let out a little shriek when Budi tapped her on the shoulder, which was something he still had not gotten used to. Instinctive reaction put him two meters back when she whirled around.
“Who are you? I mean, you’re the transportation we’re waiting on? How did you get in here?” The nurse gave a panicked look at the door out of the hospital room, which was only a step away.
“Massachusetts General says you have an organ for transportation to Cedars Sinai,” said Budi, who tucked away his phone and regarded the red and white striped cooler, as well as the paper form taped to the top. “It should be well under my weight limit. Do you need me to sign anything?”
“No, I don’t think—”
The Emergency Room at Cedars Sinai was a maze of activity, and it took Budi a moment to catch the sleeve of a passing nurse. It was probably a little rude to step away like that, but smoothing ruffled feathers cut into his work schedule. “I have an organ transport for delivery, going to—” he checked the paper tag on the cooler “—Doctor Warren. It’s urgent.”
“Oh, you must be Bundi. Just one moment.” The nurse checked something on a nearby terminal and added, “The doctor is doing a transplant in the West Hollywood campus, not here. Do you need any assistance?”
Bundi made a face. “I don’t have a memorized point for that location. Let me check with Center.”
“I’ll make a call to the helipad,” said the nurse, who had a phone handset from her desk already and was dialing.
After a few moments on the phone with Center, Bundi hung up the call with a scowl. “I should probably tag along on the helicopter ride, so I can establish a point for later.”
“There’s going to be a helicopter ready on the roof by the time we get there.” The nurse hefted the cooler onto a cart that an orderly had pushed to them and started in the direction of the elevator. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this. You must have a very busy schedule.”
Bundi glanced at his phone, which had just chirped with a red icon. He talked on the phone for a few minutes while the elevator was traveling, ending the call as the door slid open.
“How long will it take to get to the other hospital? I’ve got an emergency request from one of the hero groups… Well, not that much of an emergency. Fifteen minutes?”
“Twenty, I think,” said the nurse.
The pilot confirmed their travel time, and Budi settled down in the passenger compartment with a spare helmet to protect his hearing. He sent a few text messages, gave a grim chuckle at the response, and generally considered how long it took to travel any distance in Los Angeles even by air. The helicopter slowed to land, then spun the blades down as Budi hefted the cooler.
“Don’t forget the helmet, sir,” said the pilot over the intercom. “People wander off with those all the time.”
“It will just take a minute.” Budi could actually see his destination, and stepped out with the cooler in both hands. It took a little more than a minute in the heli pad office, but he got the donor organ into the hands of the transplant team waiting for it, gave his surroundings a good, long examination, and stepped back into the helicopter. “Beverly Hills,” he said. “Looks nice from up here.”
“Looking is about all I can afford,” said the pilot. “Thanks,” he added when Budi handed him the helmet back.
But he was gone, leaving behind the helmet with a short stack of twenty-dollar bills in it, and a note encouraging the pilot to buy his wife something nice. Which reminded Bundi of something else as he stepped into the Pacific Regional Guardians hanger.
“Hey, Popper!” Ghost Shroud glided down the stairs with practiced ease, waving as she approached. “Sorry for dragging you away from work, but Mechhead took the Guardian Plane apart, and we have an urgent call from Doctor Malacia, claiming that he has hostages.”
“I’ll bet. It’s his birthday, after all.” Budi looked around the hanger, and the various aircraft in various states of repair, mostly in parts. “You really need to get one aircraft for your hero team and lock it away from your local mechanical empath.”
“Wait a minute,” said Shroud, holding up one pale hand. “It’s Doctor Malacia’s birthday, and that’s why she kidnapped some hostages?”
“Nobody ever wants to attend her parties,” said Budi. “I only worked for her a few months, before I found out she was a supervillain. Are you bringing a present?”
“A present?” Ghost Shroud glided to a stop while Budi kept walking in the direction of the canteen.
“The weirder the better,” he called back over his shoulder. “Bonus points if you have no idea what it does. I’m going to grab a soda and hit the bathroom.”
By the time he got out of the bathroom, the Guardians had gathered together for transport. Steel Rain lurked in the back, giving furtive little glances at the disassembled aircraft like he could slap a working vehicle together in a few minutes. Cascade strode forward as Budi approached, with hand extended out to shake.
“Glad you’re not taking Susu’s injuries personally, Bud. Doctor Malacia will pay for it this time, I promise.”
Two steps later, Budi was back in the hangar, wiping his hand. “I love your new tank.”
A general wave of embarrassed foot-examination followed. “He’s a temp from Canada,” said Hopscotch. “With Susu out of the group for a while, we needed a heavy hitter. How much longer will she be out?”
“Two or three months,” said Budi while typing on his phone. “She’s in her therapy session right now. Did you find a present for Doctor Malacia?”
“Professor Darkness had this widget during his last bank robbery.” Ghost Shroud held out a metallic widget that seemed to have no real edges or controls. “He couldn’t get it to work, and dropped it when he fled.”
“That’ll keep Doctor Malacia busy for a few weeks. I know of a place that wraps gifts.”
Two steps later, he handed the present back to Shroud, trying not to look at the bright pink bow. “They mostly wrap children’s presents,” he muttered.
It took several more steps to transfer the rest of the group to the East Coast base, where they could get an aircraft that Mechhead had not ‘improved’ yet and make their scheduled appointment. Gemini was the last members to be transferred, mostly because they could not decide which costume to wear.
“Girls, you’re fine,” said Budi, checking his phone. “I’ve got another appointment coming up.”
“But it’s her birthday,” said Gemini.
“There will be photos,” said Gemini. “We need to look different.”
“But still alike,” said Gemini.
“You look fine.” Budi grabbed one elbow in each hand and stepped. “The rest of them are getting on the airplane. Tell Doctor Malacia hi for me, and see if she has my check for the last pay period.”
It was afternoon before Budi had a chance to grab lunch at a hot dog stand. The delay was longer than he expected since an authentic Chicago dog took time to make, and his favorite vendor did not take credit cards. He took a little more time to chat since moving and talking always wound up in a terrible mess, and washed up in a south Texas bathroom that had never disappointed him with their cleanliness. Then it was back to work.
Unfortunately, the afternoon was not as easy.
“Does your mother always take this long to get ready for a vacation?” Budi was kneeling on the thick carpet of the Hilton in order not to tower over the young girl while her father was off trying to encourage his wife to greater effort before their allocated transportation slot was over. The girl was the picture of youthful innocence, the kind of indoors kid who never waded through a mud puddle or climbed an old dangerous tree. She was also the kind of child who was terribly suspicious of crossing large distances with a single step.
“I think mommy’s afraid of you,” stated the child as if it were an inevitable fact of life. “I bet it hurts when you do your magic thing, like my ear infection.” She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her dress sleeve. “Do you have medicine to take like me?”
“No, nothing more than my morning vitamins.” He lowered his voice. “I like the chewable ones that look like cartoon characters.”
“I have to take liquids since I can’t swallow pills,” declared the child. She eyed him for a time, ignoring the other people moving around the hotel lobby. “I wish we could take an airplane.”
“Your father said the altitude change could hurt your ears. How about we start with something short. Like over there.” He pointed at the other side of the hotel lobby.
The girl eyed him back. “Just over there,” she said slowly. “And not all the way to the cruisey ship.”
“You have my word,” said Budi. “One step, not to the cruise ship terminal. I’ll need you to hold my arm, and… Oops.”
The Grand Canyon spread out in front of them in glorious beauty, from the sparse vegetation flowering in scattered places to the reds and browns of layered in horizontal array. It had taken a moment for Budi to come up with a memorized location at roughly the same elevation as Denver, but he did not wait for a reaction and stepped again.
“Machu Picchu,” he said. “The ancient Incans really appreciated their mountains, but—”
The hotel lobby surrounded them again, warm and filled with people who generally ignored them. “Took me a bit to find the other end of the room,” he added to the awestruck child. “Didn’t hurt a bit, did it?”
“My ears popped a little,” she admitted. She yawned and wiggled her jaw. “Worth it.”
In the end, Budi took the child to the cruise terminal in a series of short hops so her ears could adjust, with possibly one or two quick steps to see some of the more scenic outdoor areas that Budi had discovered over the years.
He did not get a tip. It was fine.
Pics
A few typos, like you call your main character Bundi a number of times. If that was intentional, the purpose of it went over my head.
I found the first interaction confusing. Budi disappears, and it does say he goes to the office, but never has him pop to the pickup location, so it seemed like the client was at the office. Then for that matter, the narrator stays behind to say that, even though it'd been in Budi's perspective and he's gone. Then you do the same thing again when he drops the client off. You shouldn't have a limited narrator telling me things the perspective character can't possibly have witnessed.
Why is Budi paying the helicopter pilot? He's just doing his own job and presumably getting paid for it. A refund for not being able to take it there himself? But then that means the pilot was the client, which doesn't make sense.
The scene in the hangar is cute enough, but you throw so many characters at me at once that I can't keep track of them all. I guess only the one mostly conversing with Budi is important, but she can get lost in the mix.
It ends up being more of a slice of life story, which wouldn't necessarily be a problem, except the way you ended the penultimate scene teases something eventful is about to happen, only for there to be no payoff. I do wonder why he didn't get a tip, since that's a standard kind of thing to do for his service, so either the customer was oblivious to that (including even normal comparable transport) or dissatisfied, but the narrative never hints at the latter.
I do wonder how you got this idea from the prompt picture used.
Cute story, and I like this look at someone wanting to use his powers for more mundane purposes.
I found the first interaction confusing. Budi disappears, and it does say he goes to the office, but never has him pop to the pickup location, so it seemed like the client was at the office. Then for that matter, the narrator stays behind to say that, even though it'd been in Budi's perspective and he's gone. Then you do the same thing again when he drops the client off. You shouldn't have a limited narrator telling me things the perspective character can't possibly have witnessed.
Why is Budi paying the helicopter pilot? He's just doing his own job and presumably getting paid for it. A refund for not being able to take it there himself? But then that means the pilot was the client, which doesn't make sense.
The scene in the hangar is cute enough, but you throw so many characters at me at once that I can't keep track of them all. I guess only the one mostly conversing with Budi is important, but she can get lost in the mix.
It ends up being more of a slice of life story, which wouldn't necessarily be a problem, except the way you ended the penultimate scene teases something eventful is about to happen, only for there to be no payoff. I do wonder why he didn't get a tip, since that's a standard kind of thing to do for his service, so either the customer was oblivious to that (including even normal comparable transport) or dissatisfied, but the narrative never hints at the latter.
I do wonder how you got this idea from the prompt picture used.
Cute story, and I like this look at someone wanting to use his powers for more mundane purposes.