4C
Air travel is never comfortable, so the best advice is to lean the seat back a little and get some rest. At least for this trip IÕm in first class, seat 4C. Despite the close quarters, the dull roar of the plane creates an air of sonic solitude. And napping through this flight is a great way to pass the time. After all, IÕm anxious to get to the airport and meet up with my wife, Ava. With both of us constantly traveling in sales, we joke why we keep the house at all. But itÕs worth it. We may only be married six years now, but our connection has never seemed stronger. Maybe thatÕs because we can spend so much time apart. Ha, IÕm kidding, of course. I just want to see her warm smile and feel her warm embrace. And weÕre both arriving at the airport in just a couple hours. IÕm coming in from Topeka this time, and I think sheÕs in from Tulsa. WeÕre both jumping puddles as always. So, as I was saying, the best advice is to lean back and get some rest.
What was THAT?? IÕve never heard such a loud sound in my life. And now everything seems so muffled. My ears ache. Did we lose cabin pressure? That shrieking sound, what is it? Like a howling whistle, itÕs so piercing. I have to see. The flight attendant just lifted herself back up from the floor, removed her shoes, and sheÕs now pinning back the aisle curtain. Everyone is wide eyed, but ok. Someone just ran back to his seat. I donÕt know what the captain is saying. The flight attendants are shouting now too. That was quite a jostle. I donÕt have a mask, but I want to see whatÕs going on. Wow, IÕm not even buckled in.
Everyone is hunched over in their seats now with their oxygen masks on. Some people are praying, and itÕs an eerie calm. No one seems to notice that IÕm just coasting down the walkway toward the back of the plane. The curtain between the first class section and the rest of the cabin is flailing wildly, where it had been pinned back. The wind is really stirred up. Oh, I didnÕt realize! The cabin back here is torn apart. There are so many people hurt. ItÕs like the engine exploded, and all the spinning pieces flung out. Somehow, IÕm oddly detached from this, though, and I want to see more.
Through the screeching tears in the skin of the airplane, I can see the port wing. ItÕs so torn up. There are places I can see right through. Man, the pilot must be struggling. Some parts of the wing are moving around a lot, and others are extended all the way they can go. In the past IÕve been stuck behind the wing during landing, but IÕve never seen the wing that extended during flight. Whoa! I just noticed something else. ThereÕs definitely a lot of wind out there. I can see lots of puddles of thick, red fluid accumulating in the eddies behind the torn shards. That canÕt be good. In fact, the plane is flying a lot rougher. Looking out at the cloud cover, I can see we are really wobbling around. All the people are still pitched over in their seats, bobbing and jolting in unison. This is unreal. I think itÕs really getting bad now. I can see the outside beams of sunlight spiraling around the interior of the plane and the contorted bodies pressed in place by unseen forces.
Man, this is like a crazy dream. I need to get back to my seat. But thatÕs weird. IÕm only looking from behind, but itÕs like someone is sitting there. It looks like --
ÒSeatbacks up, please,Ó she said with a passing glance. ÒWeÕre landing. Seatbacks up.Ó
Her finger softly glided across my shoulder. As the flight attendant continued on with her steady command and her open bag of trash, my ears again filled with the dull roar of the plane. Well, I hope I didnÕt jinx this flight. What a vivid dream, like I was really there!
Something big must have hit the news, because there sure are a lot of people congregated around the televisions at each terminal. But itÕs good to be on the ground, and I need to get down to AvaÕs gate. She should be arriving in a few minutes. IÕve been to this airport so many times, so at least I know exactly where it is. I can catch up on the gossip from there.
My pockets are empty, as they always are for air travel. Between the security screening and the discomfort of bulging pockets on the plane, my keys and comb are things I can do without. There it is, the gate. The note I jotted down from my last phone call with Ava on the tarmac. She said sheÕd be at gate 86. Yeah, quite a coincidence that we were both in seat 4C. You know a married couple travels too much when thatÕs their topic of conversation.
Well, thereÕs gate 85. Pretty empty, but I see what all the fuss is about. On the TV it looks like there apparently really was a crash somewhere. With all the traveling we do, thatÕs always very unnerving. Now, why are there so many airline personnel milling around AvaÕs gate??