Board Time 0555A
Gate 06
FLT TIME 0655A
Triggs/Macie
Seat 30C
Date 14 Oct 18
From Orlando/Sanford
To Chicago/O’Hare
Looking down at my boarding pass, I double check my seat number. Ugh…row 30. The back of the plane. This means that when we land, I am probably going to be stuck on the plane for an extra twenty to thirty minutes waiting for everyone to get off before me because no one will be in as much of a hurry as I am to get off this plane. They pack up their personal item, stand up, check to make sure they left nothing behind, talk for a minute to their seatmates, struggle to get their carry-on item out of the overhead bin, stop trying for a while to laugh about their struggle with a friend, finally get the bag down, double check their seat area, mosey down the aisle, chat with a flight attendant, and then finally get off the plane. This, multiplied by roughly 100 people, will probably take a while. Or at least that is what I read online. Don’t they realize that some people don’t enjoy being trapped on a flying death machine?
As I slowly make my way to the back of the plane to my seat (people also tend to be slow to situate themselves and their luggage), I do what I always do to try to calm myself during a bad situation: I search for any positives. First, being in the back of the plane means that I am close to the bathroom. I tend to drink a lot when I am nervous so that will come in handy. Second, one or two flight attendants normally sit in the back, so I will be close to them if anything happens. Finally, if the plane goes into a gravity-induced, high-speed nosedive toward the firm, solid ground, I feel like being in the back of the plane might be the safest. I picture some of the photos of plane crashes that I have seen where the front end has been squished like an accordion into half of its original length. The back half of the plane always looks the most intact after a crash.
With that reassuring thought in mind, I drop into seat 30C, right on the aisle. I shove my backpack under my seat, since I know that I will be in no state of mind to actually do anything until the flight is at least half over, and pull out the safety manual instead. It doesn’t matter that I read the manual online before my flight. Something could have changed or I might have forgotten something. So I read it just in case. Just as I am re-learning what to do in case of an emergency water landing (my lifejacket is under my seat), an elderly couple stops next to my seat.
“Excuse me, sweetie,” says the old woman. “My husband and I need to get into our seats.”
“Of course,” I say, putting the safety manual aside for a moment and standing up to let them in.
The elderly man squeezes in first, claiming the window seat. He avoids all eye contact with me and doesn’t seem like much of a conversationalist. He’s one of those men who would be a good foot taller if he could stand up straight. I get the impression that he’s trying to enclose himself in and simultaneously keep the rest of the world out. As soon as he sits down, he slides the window shut and lets his hunched form sag against the side of the plane.
His wife, on the other hand, hasn’t stopped smiling. Apparently, she’s not aware that she’s leaving the happiest place on Earth. I have a strange urge to ask her if she was a beauty pageant winner back in her younger years. She just has that glow about her. Like she’s sparkling even though she’s not wearing anything flashy. As I sit down, I vow not to let her distract me; I have other things to worry about. Like how I’m about to be 10,000 feet in the air with my life in the hands of a few people who I have never actually met before. This makes me reach for the safety manual again, but before I can even feel the highly-glossed, cardboard-like paper between my fingers, my seatmate speaks.
“Headin’ home or headin’ out?” she asks.
“Heading home,” I answer, wondering if proper plane etiquette requires me to ask her the same question back. Lucky for me, she doesn’t need me to.
“Frank and I are headin’ out. Going up North to visit the grandchildren. I can’t wait to see all of them!”
I acknowledge her statement with what I hope looks like a genuine smile before I grab the manual from the seatback in front of me and start reading again. Shortly after I learn about how oxygen masks will drop from the ceiling if the cabin becomes depressurized, I hear a hollow tapping noise coming from my left. The woman is tapping her finger on the tray she has put down in front of her like the second hand on a clock. I make it a few more sentences before I give up and put the pamphlet away with a sigh.
Noticing, the woman says, “Sorry, dear. Flying gives me a little bit of an adrenaline rush. I just want to be off. Take-off and landing are always the most exciting part, and I have never been overly patient. But being up in the air is fun too! There is something about being above the clouds. Flying is a special experience. Don’t ya think?”
“Actually, I’m not a fan of flying.”
“Aww, that’s too bad. Don’t worry. Frank isn’t much of a flier either.”
I steal a peak at Frank, who appears to be asleep. I guess that’s one way to deal with flying. If I could calm myself enough to sleep, I would use that method of coping too.
“How was your flight down?” the woman asks.
“Actually, I drove down with my parents, but they’re staying for an extra week and I have to get back to college, so this is my first time flying alone. Ever. And the first time flying since I was like ten.”
“Ooh first time flying alone! That can be a great adventure! Right, Frank?”
Frank looks at his wife and cracks what I assume to be a rare smile, before closing his eyes again and leaning back against the side of the plane.
“Actually, that’s how Frank and I met. Before we retired and moved to Florida, I was a flight attendant. It had been early in my career. Frank had been on his first flight and was having a full-on panic attack. I ended up spending most of the flight talking him down. We talked about all kinds of topics that day, anything I could think of to get his mind off of where he was and what was happenin’. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight. Too high pressure of a situation for that. But we stayed in contact and one thing led to another and now here we are. We’ve actually flown back to Chicago at least three times a year since we moved down to Florida ten years ago. And nothing bad has ever happened, and I seriously doubt it will now. So you don’t need to worry about that.”
“That’s very nice of you to say, but when my brain is in fear mode, it doesn’t exactly listen to that sort of logic. The odds of being in a plane crash are roughly one in 11 million. I looked it up before I left home. But it didn’t help the way I thought it would.”
“Well, hon, I’m here if you need me,” she says with a smile and reassuring pat to my knee.
With that, I hear the speakers crackle to life. “Flight attendants please prepare the cabin for take-off.”
“Ooh, here we go,” my seatmate says. She wasn’t kidding; she really enjoys this stuff. I, on the other hand, hate the idea of take-off. Up until this point, I have been telling myself that I could just get off if I need to, but once the plane starts down the runway, there’s no turning back. I am stuck on the plane until it lands. I can’t get off. That’s the thought that stays in my brain as the plane starts to pick up speed. But for some reason, it doesn’t freak me out as much as I thought it would. It feels weird to be nervous about something that the woman next to me is so excited about. As the plane lifts off the ground, I look over to watch her reaction. I notice that her husband, Frank, is watching too. She just looks at both of us and smiles.
***
Halfway through the flight, I realize that I am still doing pretty well. There’s been lots to distract me. There was a kid in front of me who refused to wear headphones to listen to the movie he was watching and, of course, there was the food and beverage cart. Plus, the flight has been relatively smooth so far. Not much turbulence. The seatbelt sign has been off for almost the entire time. I’m starting to feel pretty comfortable, so I reach under my seat and into my backpack for a book. I am hoping to lose myself at Hogwarts for the rest of the flight. But just as I am finishing the first chapter, the plane hits a bout of turbulence. My grip tightens on the book for a second before I relax again. Everything is fine. It was just one bump. But then another one happens, and another. Soon, I’m gripping the back of the chair in front of me to keep me steady as the plane bounces around. The pilot flips on the fasten seatbelt light.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing a bit of turbulence right now, and it looks like it will stay with us for the duration of the flight. For your safety, please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened, and we’ll get you to Chicago as soon as we can.”
I let my book close in my lap, so I can use both hands to brace myself on the seat in front of me. I won’t be getting any reading done anymore. I look over at my seatmate to see how she is handling the turbulence, and I can see Frank keeping an eye on her too. She doesn’t seem to be fazed at all, but when she sees me watching, she gives me a sympathetic smile.
“My name’s Belle Attaway. And you are?” she asks.
“Macie Triggs.”
“Well, Macie, it seems like we are in for a bit of a bumpy ride, but that’s normal for this time of year.”
All I can do is nod, as the plane jerks suddenly to the left.
She gives me a smile again. “Why don’t you tell me about your trip down to Florida? What were you doin’ down there?”
“Visiting family,” I reply. After a slight bump and an encouraging nod from her, I continue, “My goddaughter lives down there and it was her birthday. I hadn’t seen her for a few months, so I figured it was time for a visit. Usually, I just drive down with my parents, but they wanted to stay a little longer, so I figured I would try flying back, but never again.” As if to prove my point, the plane dips a few feet for a couple seconds before righting itself. My stomach drops too, but I don’t think it will recover so quickly.
“How old is your goddaughter?” Belle asks, bringing my attention back to our conversation.
“She just turned four.”
“Aww, that is such a sweet age. I have a granddaughter who is four right now, and she just has such an imagination. What’s your goddaughter like?”
I turn towards Belle to give her my answer, but as I do so, it feels like the plane hits a solid patch of air and we are all thrown against the seats in front of us. I see Belle and Frank simultaneously reach for each other’s hands and slide closer together. Belle pats my knee in a reassuring manner, the smile never leaving her face.
She says, “It’s all right, dear. Everything is fine.” But I can’t tell whether it is for my benefit or Frank’s. Probably some of both because Frank is starting to look like I feel. He is holding on to Belle like she is his life vest. Wait, where is my life jacket again? I start to reach for the safety manual again, but Belle stops me.
“Dear, I know everything in that packet front and back and more. If you’re with me, I’ll make sure you’re safe. Now about this goddaughter of yours…what’s her name?”
“Addie,” I say, trying to replace the video in my head of the plane hurdling to the ground with one of her giggling at herself after making a silly face in the mirror.
“What an adorable name! What’s your favorite memory of her from this trip?”
“Hmmm.” I can’t decide where to start. I could talk about how we played doctor everyday and the only thing that would cure every sickness was her favorite food, blueberries. Or how she would lug the biggest book off of the shelf and crawl in my lap and we would read that same story over and over again. Each time she would laugh as if we hadn’t just read the book five minutes ago.
Finally, I settle on: “She’s so creative! The entire time I was down there we switched names and ‘voices,’ as she would say. The only name that I could call her was Macie, and if anyone called me anything but Addie, she would yell at them. It was so cute, slightly confusing at times, but fun nonetheless.”
“She sounds like an adorable kid. What else is she into?”
For the rest of the flight, I tell her all about Addie; her favorite books and movies, the dance class she is in, her love of the baby shark song, everything. I don’t completely forget where I am (it’s too bumpy for that), but I manage to keep it together. It helps that in the back of my mind I keep repeating “Never again. I will never fly again.” I promise myself I will not put myself through this kind of torture again.
When the pilot finally announces our descent, my whole body sags in relief. I had no idea that I had been so tight. Frank and I look to Belle again, whose eyes are glowing with excitement. My whole body is anxious to be on the ground again. When I feel the wheels first touch down, I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding.
“See, you two! Everything was fine. Just like I said it would be,” Belle says with a smile.
I can’t help but smile in return.
After we taxi to the gate, Belle gets up to use the restroom while we wait for everyone to get off of the plane, so I’m left alone with Frank. I can’t imagine flying as often as he does.
“Not that I am planning on ever flying again, but does it get any easier?” I ask.
He gives a little laugh that lacks humor. “Not really.”
“Then why do you do it? Why not just drive up to visit the grandchildren?”
“For her,” he says. “You saw how much she loves flying. I’d do anything to make her smile like that.”
***
Board Time 0915A
Gate 03
FLT TIME 1015A
Triggs/Macie
Seat 29C
Date 8 Oct 19
From Chicago/O’Hare
TO Orlando/Sanford
Ugh…the back of the plane again. I really need to start checking into my flights earlier. As I walk back to my spot, I see that my two seatmates are already there: a mom and a toddler. They’re no Belle and Frank Attaway, but I knew that when I booked the flight. As I sit down, I pull out the package I got from the Attaways last week. Belle sent me a notebook full of questions from her that I am supposed to answer during the flight and send back to her and Frank sent me some natural relaxants to help me keep calm. Last time I was on a plane, I swore I would never fly again, but I figure it probably wasn’t actually as bad as I remember it, and my family can’t drive down with me this time. Plus, a few hours of being uncomfortable in exchange for a whole week with Addie sounds like a pretty fair trade to me. She Face Timed me the other day to show me the new dance routine she learned in dance class, and even though it just looked like her spinning in circles twenty times, I still can’t wait to see it in person. At first, I thought Frank was crazy, but now I think I understand.
Anything for her.
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Great work! I enjoyed how this story takes the simple event of riding in a plane and turns it into a pleasurable experience for me as a reader. It was nice that Macie learned something valuable from the flight and grew as a character.
Enjoyed reading and especially liked the way the story is very detailed making it interesting and easily keeping my attention, thanks.