Plane Talk

I spilled my orange juice, cursed without much heat when it dribbled down the dark blue fabric of my tie. It’s funny to remember that now, after all that’s happened. I spilled my complimentary orange juice. I spilled more than that before the day was done.

It had been a routine flight, a simple puddle jumper from L.A. to San Diego. The sun had just begun its journey in the east, its muted beams coloring the waters of the Pacific Ocean into iridescent grey – almost like liquid silver.

I was headed home, ironically enough, from a funeral. Thankfully, though it may sound crass, my dear auntie had waited until Spring Break to succumb to her leukemia. After expressing condolences to the family that hadn’t really cared if I was there or not, I had leapt onto the first flight back to San Diego.

Family functions had always made me feel like an outcast. Of course, being the bastard son of a cheating husband could do that to your reputation.

I had just begun to nod off when it happened. The plane gave a mighty jerk, and the propellers coughed and sputtered. They caught and once again the cabin was filled with noise as the engines hummed. I looked around, my green eyes – the ones I’d inherited from the father who chose not to acknowledge me - narrowed. Sherry, the plump stewardess who’d refused my request for a Bloody Mary a few minutes before hurried by, and I watched her curiously.

The look of stark terror seemed out of place on her placid, fat face. If it were possible, the fear in her pale blue eyes made her even more hideous than she had when we’d boarded, I mused, taking the last bit of OJ into my mouth and swallowing loudly. The woman seated beside me on the aisle seat turned her face to look at me.

“What do you think that was about?” she wondered. Her eyes - her warm, attractive brown eyes - were slightly wide and her narrow hands gripped her armrests. I shrugged negligently and sighed.

“Who knows?” I managed, before my plastic cup went flying out of my hand. The plane bucked and jerked. Brown-Eyes beside me screamed bloody murder and I wanted to tell her to shut the hell up, but my teeth were clacking together violently enough I wasn’t able to form the words.

Isn’t this interesting? I thought, barely recognizing the captain’s words in that calm, soothing voice.

“Ladies and gentlemen we are experiencing some mechanical difficulties.” Mechanical difficulties: like technical difficulties, only much more serious when you’re 32,000 feet in the air. “Please remain seated, with your seatbelts fastened until we have things under control.”

I snorted. Since when had seatbelts been able to do anything? My mother had been wearing hers when the semi had plowed into her minivan. If this plane was going down, what good would our seatbelts do?

Brown-Eyes, after tightening the belt she’d never taken off, snagged my hand and I felt compelled to give it a gentle reassuring squeeze. The Pacific Ocean grew brighter and bluer as the sun pulled itself into the sky.

A sound, much akin to fingernails scraping over a chalkboard soon filled the cabin, drowning out the hysterical murmurings of the people sitting around me. The oxygen masks fell down, the yellow mouthpiece smacking me forcefully on the bridge of my nose. I batted it away, annoyed at the interruption. It wasn’t until Brown-Eyes patted my arm in a pleading manner that I pulled the mask to my face, tightening the strap around the back of my head.

I observed Brown-Eyes clutch and release at the sides of the yellow face mask. I studied her face, pegging her to be in her early thirties, late twenties. She was pretty enough, with soft brown ringlets all about her face, smooth, peach-like skin. She was a bit paler than normal I guessed, as she sat there, gripping the mask like a life line, breathing in as though she were huffing aerosol cans.

The plane jerked violently sideways, tossing my body against the double-paned window with a force that stole my breath. The sweet tang of oxygen filled my mouth as I gasped. Brown-Eyes’ gaze darted fearfully around the cabin as if trying to ascertain just where the next ‘attack’ would come from.

The plane’s engines gurgled and sputtered and I looked out the window, pondering at the smoke that billowed from the little cylinder underneath the wing. Were engines supposed to spew noxious black smoke? I didn’t think so. I scoffed. “Seatbelts indeed,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. The man behind me hit the back of my chair and I whirled in my seat to glare at him. He didn’t notice. He was too busy praying. Praying Mantis I called him as I watched him sit, both hands cupped over the back of his neck, rocking back and forth. I rolled my eyes. “Sissy,” I muttered, turning back and sighing.

Another violent jerk and I watched out the window, fascinated as a large black crack appeared in the metal of the wing just outside my window. My brows rose. I guess we really were going down. I’d never heard of planes being able to fly with one wing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, stay calm please, we’re experiencing some mechanical difficulties but everything will be worked out in due course.” I watched the crack widening, the metal flapping like a scrap of shiny cloth, turning my gaze back to Brown-Eyes who, it seemed, had passed out in her seat. The woman across the aisle was crying, her ample bosom heaving with the power of her sobs. What good did crying do? I wondered. When my grandmother had found out about me, two weeks after my mother’s death, I’d begged and pleaded for her to keep me around, complete with crocodile tears and puppy dog eyes – the works. It had, in my estimation, made it all the easier for her to throw the fourteen-year-old child back onto the street, denouncing me with a regal flick of her fingers. Politician families, I tell you what.

The noise in the cabin grew louder, complete with an acrid smell of smoke, one that permeated through the plastic of my mask. Tears gathered in the corner of my eyes, and I reached up to wipe them away. Fire in the cabin, I wondered, or is there a hole in the plane?

“Attention, we have just been ordered to complete an emergency landing over the water…” The captain trailed off. “What the fuck do you mean we can’t?” he barked, obviously arguing with his copilot. Of course I began to chuckle, nudging Brown-Eyes, rousing her from her faint.

“He forgot to turn off the mike,” I said, my voice sounding strange and tinny to my ears. I swallowed, equalizing the pressure and giving Brown-Eyes a wink.

“Damn it, Hollister,” the captain raved. “Pull yourself together, you stupid fuck!”

I started laughing more robustly, and Brown-Eyes stared at me as though I were crazy – she was bound to find out sometime, I guess. The plane jerked again and I watched dispassionately as the passengers around me screamed. Apparently a part of the plane was flying off. A rough wind blasted through the cabin and I closed my eyes, reveling in it.

Then something hit me in the back of the head and I jerked forward turning to glare at Praying Mantis who had been a weeping pile of foolishness a few moments before. Now he was brandishing a small nail file. “Shut up you jerk!” He hollered. “You’re seriously messed up if you think any of this sh-stuff is funny.”

I laughed and would have replied but the plane heaved itself to the left, metal rending in a horrid, unearthly sound making my face pale slightly. A trickle of warm wetness wound its way down the back of my neck, between my shoulder blades. My hand reached back of its own volition and rubbed at it, coming back stained with blood.

The stupid idiot had stabbed me! My indignation was short lived as the plane took a sudden nose-dive before being jerked viciously upward. It was like dragging a staggering dog around. The second he began to waver, a sharp tug on his leash brought him level again. Both were fruitless, as was demonstrated by the plane’s sharp dive once again.

This time, the pilots weren’t able to right the plane. They did however manage to level it before it crashed violently against the water before popping vertical in the water much in the same manner the Titanic had done in that ridiculously cheesy movie they made years ago. The impact was enough to jar me, and wish to God my seatbelt had not been fastened, a little too much pressure against the wrong area of my body, if you know what I mean.

I could hear the hysterical screams as the cabin began to fill with water. The murky blue-green liquid climbed steadily and I wondered how long it would take us to go under. Brown-Eyes had detached her seatbelt, and I grabbed her hand before she could climb on top of her seat. Perversely, I pointed to the seatbelt sign, still lit. She gave me a horrified glance and jerked away. I shrugged and moved to follow suit, ripping the oxygen mask from my face. “You’re insane!” Brown-Eyes wailed, tears gathering in her eyes and spilling over. “We’re going to die in here!”

I shrugged. “If it’s meant, it’s meant.”

She gave me another horrified expression and as the water crept closer, inch by inch she began breathing in loud soughing whimpers, Praying Mantis rubbing her back gently. I huff out a breath. Sure, she gets the nice-nice and I get a nail file jabbed in my spine. That seemed fair. “Double standard,” I said, shaking my head and finally reaching down to unbuckle my belt, falling against the seatback below me. I knelt and stared at the water, even reaching out to touch it. The cold liquid slid between my fingers and I sighed. I barely recognized the biting feel of Plexiglas cutting into my skin, slicing my ears and the back of my neck. I wasn’t feeling anything but the chilly water as it enveloped my hand like a wet glove. Brown-Eyes grabbed the back of my shirt and tugged. I brought my face up towards hers.

“Come on, they’ve broken open the emergency door a few seats back, we can get out of here.” We stared at each other for a long while, almost until I was wrist deep in water. Finally I nodded curtly and allowed her to jerk me up onto the seats shared with the Praying Mantis. The screams were quieting, and the cabin suddenly went dark, the electricity abruptly cut off, as though the pilots had stopped paying the bills for it. I’d been in many apartments where that had happened. I looked at Brown-Eyes and motioned for her to proceed me towards the gapping hole where the emergency exit door had been.

Praying Mantis was mumbling under his breath, rocking back and forth, his weight causing the seats to creak disconcertingly. The bubble of panic surprised me enough that I didn’t tell him to stop in my smart-aleck way. Instead I merely stared into Brown-Eyes drawn and pale face. She gazed back at me and on impulse I touched the back of her hand. It quivered against the pads of my fingers and I wrapped my larger palm around her clammy digits.

“You’re going to be fine,” I assured her. She shook her head, and I knew she was listening intently to the gurgling water. Her body jerked and I tightened my grip on her hand hoping to stem the tide of fright that was so evident in the set of her muscles.

“Hurry up!” she shouted, glancing around wildly, her eyes growing in size until they practically took up half of her face. “Hurry!” she called again.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” I said with a wink, a bolstering smile on my face. “You’re going to get out of here.” I leaned back against the side of the plane. “Now, Tubby over there…I’d be worried if I were you.” Praying Mantis went still for a moment a feral light coming into his eyes before he dove at me, brandishing his nail file. I didn’t move but just stared impassively as he stabbed the sharp end of the nail file in my chest. I was emotionless as he jerked it out, and I fell back against the seat, Brown-Eyes’ beautiful face hovering over mine. Her eyes were bright with terror and sorrow. Her hands were pressed against my chest, right above my heart, her tears mixing with my blood.

I wanted to tell her to go, to get out. I’d wanted to end this thing called my life, long before Praying Mantis had killed me. She finally gripped my hand tightly in hers. “What’s your name?” she said in a weepy voice that seemed to add to her attractiveness.

“I-I-I don’t remember.” I said, feeling the water touch the back of my head. She looked at me worriedly, and I smiled. “It’s all right; where I’m going, names don’t matter much. Get out of here.” She brought my hand to her lips kissing the knuckles of my cold fingers lightly before following Praying Mantis onto the next row of seats. I died with a smile on my face. Prim, proper little Brown-Eyes had not been wearing any panties.

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