Deliverance

As the airplane ascended into the cloudy skies, Sarah was furious. Furious with the airline staff who had forced her to change clothes. All because some obviously racist coward had found her Black Lives Matter shirt to be offensive. Somehow, this was enough for her to be approached by Karen, the stewardess, who asked her to remove it because, supposedly, someone saw and found it offensive. That was more than enough to set Sarah off, surely, and she would’ve put Karen, and her offended dolt-in-distress, whomever they were, in their place, had it not been for the dizzying sucker punch that came in the form of her own mother agreeing with Karen the stewardess and insisting that Sarah obey.

Sarah felt moments away from spontaneously combusting after having just finished her second cup of coffee. Her glasses fogged slightly as the heat from her skin fought against the cabin’s cold air. Sarah had gotten in trouble before while riding the wild waves of emotion that sometimes followed a healthy helping of caffeine via a cup of coffee or two. One time she punched a girl in the throat because she had said something rude about her sister, Claire, who had recently transitioned then. This act almost resulted in Sarah's expulsion because the girl happened to be the daughter of the school’s dean.

In an admittedly fragile attempt at evolved behavior, she stared icily into Karen's eyes as she rose from her chair, not before giving an equally frigid glare at her mother, and topping it off with the most acerbic “Yes, mommy dearest” she could muster. She reached into her bag and pulled out the first shirt she laid eyes on, and stomped her way to the nearest restroom, arms stiff, fists balled up. She tried to control her shaking. Sarah decided she would take her sweet time in the restroom, in hopes of cooling off and avoiding punching yet another throat.

Claire, her sister, had waited until Karen went about her business, allowing the heat of the moments to die down to an approachable simmer. She silently asked her mother why she would do such a thing. Her mother, Estelle, had waved off the episode as a disturbance whose exacerbation would be best avoided, lest they attract further condemnation from the administration. Her mother’s combined diplomacy and tactical approach to the situation disarmed Claire.

She remained silent, bitterly reflecting on the wisdom in her mother’s words. After all, she kind of had a point. The administration did seem strangely focused on rectifying and punishing the passengers over inconsequential things. They claimed that new rules and regulations now forbade the usage of cellphones and laptops, reading books, or electronic readers while aboard the plane. Passengers would have to resort to the selection of media procured by the airline company, they said. In that instance, too, it was stated that there were passengers who had expressed discomfort or found some of the media being watched or read by other passengers offensive, and, so, there were new regulations. It did seem, however, they were rather selective about who they punished for these transgressions.

Claire pretended to stretch and look over her shoulder, and having seen that Karen and crew were out of sight, she pulled out her phone. After a few moments she began: “Guys. You won’t believe what just happened on this airline. Someone, a passenger on our flight, found Sarah’s BLM shirt to be offensive” she said, making air quotes with her free hand. “They’re making her change her shirt in the bathroom. Honestly, things are getting fucking weird. They legit don't even let us use cellphones. It's not like they can see me anyway, so I'll be posting more.”

Estelle turned towards Claire and sighed. “You know, they’re going to ban that little platform of yours that you love to post on so much, right?” She said, flipping the pages of her magazine. Claire stared at the pictures of luxury homes on the pages of her mother’s magazine.

“Yeah? Well owning a home is one of the stupidest things someone could do with their money right now, yet here you are, looking at ridiculously expensive boxes where people eat and shit in, like everyone else. Who’s really wasting their time?” she said under her breath. She turned her attention back to her phone, noticing that there was WiFi still being offered, despite the crew's statements on cellphone usage.

"What? Did you say something?"

"All this drama's got me craving a little snack, maybe a chocolate... Can I get your credit card? It's not too much." she said, pretending to be engulfed in the menu while hoping she didn't just smacktalk her chance away. Estelle frowned and dug into her purse, retrieving the shiny plastic card.

Sarah could hear the Captain speaking, his voice booming from every speaker on the plane. He warned of turbulence, and insisted everyone return to their seats before it would be unsafe to roam around freely in the cabin. She decided that if she stayed inside the bathroom, it would count as a silent protest against this power-tripping administration, and would achieve a semblance of inner peace by doing so. She exhaled a long breath, relieved upon discovering this silver-lining.

Captain Roland chuckled to Kendall, his co-pilot. It never got old, he thought. Ronald loved to deviate the flight path and run right into the clouds, knowing full well that it'd result in a turbulent flight. "Well, it's about time you get to it" he said, nudging Kendall's elbow. Kendall pursed his lips and left the cockpit.

Karen, a stewardess who was more mother bear than matriarch, and Katherine, a fanatically Christian woman who, with the help of Karen, had her hand in getting previous co-workers fired or reassigned, both locked eyes with Kendall on his way out, each nodding to one another. Karen and Katherine stood at attention on either end of the cockpit entrance, awaiting Kendall to walk past. He walked to the end of the cabin, nodding to Ned, a frequent flyer whose gray mustache had deep and dark yellow stains which seemed to only become more so as the years went by, Randy, one of the newer, younger stewards, and Andrew, another steward who'd been working for the airline as long as Kendall had.

Ned patted his mustache as he pulled out his phone, and made sure to tuck in any flyaway hairs that messed up his comb-over, which scarcely covered up his balding. "Some lib'ral thought it'd be a good idea to wear uh BLM shirt- A shirt with the letters BLM big and loud. Not around here! That kind of behavior will get you dealt with real quick. That little girl got real mad and ran off to the bathroom. Haven't seen 'er since. Buncha hypocrites, I tell ya. She had that ANTIFA look to her anyhow, smartest thing to do was get outta sight!" he said, each word slightly louder than the last, ultimately yelling into his phone. Pleased with himself, he clicked through the next few prompts and uploaded his video. He walked to the back of the cabin, wanting to show his freshly laid piece of media to the crew members who had, as the years gone by, developed a strange relationship with Ned. Passengers looked on, many of them looking at the seatbelt sign shortly after having scowled at the unruly passerby who walked around freely. Surely, the administration will have something to say to him, they thought.

Ned, Randy, and Andrew forced a mirthless laugh as they viewed Ned's video. Afterwards, Ned lent a hand to loading up the food and beverage carts. "Hey, you all see what's down there? 'member that man or woman or whatever they want to say they are at the moment... the one who had been using their laptop, even after they'd been told not to?"

Randy peered into the distance, trying to see what Ned saw. "What about them?" Randy asked him, mixing in a powder into one of the meals. Ned saw this, and chuckled.

"Well, they're a..." Ned said, lowering his voice and leaning in, "Lefty."

Randy's eyebrows raised, "Hmm" he said, "you don't say..." Andrew looked up, letting them know he'd heard, making a cross with his index finger and thumb, then crossing himself.

"I'll leave y'all to it, then." Ned said. After helping pack some more meals, and mixing in some of the powder himself, he headed back to his seat, eyeing the passengers as he did so, his eyes looking for a fight. Randy was taking his time with the cart, slowly handing out beverages and food as the passengers requested, looking down the aisle when his eye caught a familiar elbow dangling. Immediately, and to the dismay of the passengers who'd been patiently waiting for their turn, Randy leaned into the cart, and pushed it down the aisle, gaining speed with each step, ramming into the elbow that dangled off the right side of the aisle.

"Ow! What the fuck!" Charlotte, the rightful owner of said elbow, shouted. She pushed the cart back, and bent down to collect her pencil that had been ejected from her hand. She stood up, raising her hands and pointing at Randy. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Ma'am you're going to need to calm down. It was obviously an accid-" he mumbled.

"Fuck you! It wasn't an accident, that shit hurt, and you drove that cart like you meant it. I could tell when it's an accident, and you're full of shit! Everyone could hear that cart as you ran with it from a mile away, but I never expected you to skip over everyone and run right into me! What is actually wrong with you people?"

"Are you all really still so upset that we used a laptop earlier?" a voice said from behind Charlotte. A bald man then peaked out, looking at Randy. "It's pretty obvious it's not about the laptops, or the books, is it, honey?" The man said, cocking his head to the side and pursing his lips, his eyes sizing Randy up.

"Hey, excuse me, sir. Sir!" A young father had gotten out of his chair and approached the scene. "Excuse me, is there a reason you skipped us? We watched you run the cart into this young lady, and now you've caused a scene. Meanwhile, my children and wife are going hungry, let alone the others you skipped. Please, do your job."

"See? Everyone is on to your little game, Andrew!" Charlotte said, looking at his name tag. "Do you have anything to say for yourself? Coming to bother me, and for what? What's so special about me?"

"Ma'am, if you don't calm down, you're going to have to come with me" Randy said.

"I am not going anywhere. I need to speak to your supervisor, or your superior, or whoever is in charge of this goddamn circus."

Just then, with her finger in Randy's face, the airplane, having ran into clouds, and thus, turbulence, shifted suddenly, knocking both Randy and Charlotte off of their feet momentarily, catching themselves on whatever they could hold on to, and, to her surprise, Randy yelped loudly. His hands grabbed his face as he let out a shriek. Charlotte looked on, confused. "Ma'am you cannot hit me. That is assault!" He yelled, now rushing to the back of the cabin, leaving the cart in front of Charlotte and effectively locking her in.

"Sir, she did not hit you. If it gets food to us faster, then maybe we should see your supervisor after all!" the young father yelled.

"I didn't do a goddamn thing-- " Charlotte was cut off with another bout of turbulence. Randy ran from the scene, nearly losing his footing as he called for backup on his walkie-talkie.

As her self-imposed isolation neared its close, signaled by the prophesied turbulence, Sarah overheard the sounds of the chaos unfolding. Surely, the airplane personnel was yet again up to no good, and this time, somebody had had enough. She immediately burst out of the bathroom door to find Karen, Katherine, and Kendall surrounding Charlotte, who now seemed fearful. Something didn't seem right.

Kendall immediately zip-tied the woman who was now kicking and screaming in retaliation, her legs hitting Karen and Katherine. Passengers began recording the incident, as gasps and "oh my god" escaped the several onlookers. Andrew had emerged and was informing the passengers that recording airplane personnel was illegal and grounds for disciplinary action apart from general cellphone usage. Some passengers recoiled immediately, with a handful continuing to record, Ned being one of them, as well as Claire.

Sarah stood shocked as she witnessed the pandemonium. She recognized the restrained woman as one of the few that had been reprimanded earlier. A few rows back, she saw Claire holding her cellphone and using it to record, despite what the steward had said, threatening those that continued. Sarah noticed the steward in question was turning his head towards Claire's general area. Sarah's protective instincts kicked in.

"HEY! You let go of that woman right now if you know what's good for you!" Her voice had a feral quality that silenced the room, even catching the kicking and screaming Charlotte off guard. Andrew immediately made his way towards Sarah, and grabbed her by the wrists and began to drag her away, which caused her to buck and pull away.

"What the fuck is going on here!" Charlotte screamed, dangling sideways as the crew members tried to carry her away. One of her legs broke free and kicked Kendall right in the head, causing him to fall unconscious on the floor.

Once apprehended, both had been zip-tied and had their mouths duct-taped. The sight frightened the onlookers, and soon, the cabin was once again silent. After some time had passed, Ned rose from his seat and walked towards the cockpit. A few minutes passed before both he and the Captain came out of the cockpit. Ned returned to his seat, with a smile that could only be described as sinister.

The captain took the microphone and asked everyone to calm down, and began to explain that the two unruly passengers had crossed the line. It was typical of left-handed people to behave in such a way, as their way of life was one of ungodly rebellion, and their left-handed nature, a signature of their evil ways. He and his staff, he explained, had, unlike the untrained eyes of the passengers, taken special care to look for those who were left-handed on the airplane, knowing that, as they had in the past, would cause disruptions, chaos, and degrade any sense of order that would ensure the safety of everyone on the airplane. Left-handers, as he called them, were so nefarious as to inspired otherwise innocent people to join in on their campaigns of chaos, convincing them to support their cause.

Both Karen and Katherine nodded devoutly as the captain continued. These otherwise innocent people permanently shed their innocence when they partake in the wicked ways of Left-handers, and, make no mistake. This captain and his crew take the safety of the flight very seriously, and now, with the help of a courageous passenger who risked their own safety by identifying sympathizers and other Left-handers, we will be apprehending other people who find that disrespecting and degrading the rule of law, and the peace that comes with order.

The passengers were stunned, scared, but mostly confounded to the point of inaction. The captain called over the crew, and told them the new plan of action before he returned to the cockpit. Andrew, Randy, Karen, and Katherine started moving the newly discovered Left-handers, and their sympathizers to the rows towards the cockpit, moving those who had been seated there to the newly emptied seats.

Any new protests were met with zip-ties and duct tape. Before long, silence and order prevailed once more. The passengers commiserated with their new seat partners, silently agreeing to weather this insanity, together. Surely, once we land, this will be dealt with correctly, they whispered among themselves. Some prayed. They couldn't believe their eyes, or ears, they'd say, but only to each other, and always avoiding making eye contact with the personnel, for fear that they would be targeted next. Better to stay silent and safe was the general sentiment, it seemed.

Suddenly, Rage Against the Machine's Take The Power Back started playing on the airplane speakers. Someone had hijacked the intercom systems and attached a smartphone to the microphone with a makeshift rope made from a pink feather boa.

"Crank the music up, Bring that shit in!" played loudly over the speakers.

A bald and shoddily dressed drag queen slid into the aisle, wearing a gold-sequined dress, black heels, and black tights. She had appeared from behind the walled off middle section, from where she retrieved and began pushing an empty cart down the aisle, screaming "Attention, everyone! My name is Rhea Lite! Come on, everybody! Don't let these crazy fuckers have their way! Enough is enough!" She jumped on top of the cart and clapped her hands, looking at as many people as she could while keeping rhythm.

"Uh Yeah, the movement's in motion with massive militant poetry!" Zack de la Rocha's voice injected the atmosphere with vivifying electricity.

Karen, now outraged, yelled and tried to grab onto Rhea, but she took this opportunity and snatched Karen's wig off of her head, crowning herself with the big blonde piece, jumping off the cart, and sending it tumbling down the aisle, crashing among seats. The cart that had been wedged in such a way that Karen, as hard as she pulled, pushed, and kicked just couldn't make the thing budge. Embarrassed and defeated, Karen retreated.

"They want us to allege and pledge, and bow down to their god, lost the culture, the culture lost, spun our minds and through time, ignorance has taken over!" continued over the speakers as Rhea pointed at the onlookers, commanding them with her eyes and hands, clapping, somersaulting, cartwheeling, and encouraging others to join her in her performance.

"Yo, we gotta take the power back! Bam, here's the plan, Motherfuck Uncle Sam! We gotta take the power back, Yeah, we gotta take the power back, Come on, come on, We gotta take the power back!"

The majority of the passengers had joined in, dancing, singing, shouting, rallying around her, mesmerized and entranced. They began undoing the zip-ties, and removing the duct tape from the restrained passengers, who then joined in on the festivities.

Some passengers, however, had apparently gotten sick from the food handed out. They began hurling, failing to make it to the bathroom on time. The crew managed to dislodge the carts that had blocked the way and rushed the passengers, pushing them back into their seats, and to Rhea's dismay, they conformed just as quickly as they had risen.

Ned, who apparently had been on the side with the crew, rushed Rhea to the ground, his hot whiskey breath almost causing Rhea to retch. "You goddamned filthy groomer. Left-handers have no place in this world! " Rhea dug her nails into Ned's face, tearing a gash into his wrinkled cheek. Smatterings of blood stained his grAy beard. "Get off of me, you nasty old man!" Rhea said, struggling to remove the drunkard. Katherine got to the struggling pair, wielding a fire extinguisher high above Rhea, then smashing it down onto her face, interrupting her screams and replacing them with sounds of something wet being pummeled. "Demons! Imps! Mutants!" Katherine said between each thrust. Passengers watched on in horror. "We will not be subjected to your evil!" Rhea was no longer moving, and Katherine had ran out of breath. She reached down and took back Karen's wig, which was now covered in blood.

Kendall had finally regained consciousness inside the cockpit, using his left hand to grip a handle bar and raise himself up off the floor. He groaned and was rubbing his aching head when he overheard the captain muttering to himself in prayer. "Dear Lord, I am now nearing the point of deliverance, whereby I may deliver these souls to their rightful place in the kingdom of hell, with Satan, and the rest of the other devils and imps. Please look over us as we act in your service and deliver the souls of the righteous as we punish those who seek to cause ruin and chaos to this world." There was a map near the captain with a circle northeast of the Bahamas. Kendall was horrified. There was nothing but ocean there, and it all seemed too clear for Kendall. If he tried to overtake the captain, there was no way his crew would trust him, and they were the only ones he could trust at the moment, he thought. The captain noticed Kendall was moving again.

"Hey, Kendall. You've been instrumental to this mission's success, and I want you to know that. A real god-send, especially considering you used to be a Left-hander." Kendall gulped, his hands pushing against panels he was leaned up against.

"Than- Thank you, sir."

"I'm going to need you to go outside and tell everyone to get in their seats and to ready themselves to finally arrive where they belong." The captain said, pushing Kendall out of the cockpit, and locking it behind him. In mere moments, the airplane tilted sharply downward, causing the passengers and crew members alike to scramble for footing. The carts were once again on the move, this time, as if with minds of their own, rushing down the aisles and slamming into passengers and crew alike.

What Kendall saw before him was like a vision of hell. Bloodied passengers and crew members, others who had been sick and were covered in their own vomit or that of another's. Fighting against overwhelm, Kendall screamed at the top of his lungs. "Everyone! Listen to me now! Everybody, right now! We are in terrible danger. The captain is going to crash this airplane right into the ocean. He thinks he's delivering the Left-handers and their sympathizers to hell, he thinks he's on some sort of holy mission. We have to stop him! Now!"

It didn't take much convincing at that point, since the cabin had all but turned upside down. The tilt was so severe that it spurred everyone into action, and gravity itself pushed them all towards the cockpit, the carts crushing passengers unlucky enough to be at the end of the pile.

The cockpit, however, remained locked. It was too late. The impact killed most of those who had boarded the plane that day, save for a select fortunate few who survived, going on to tell the tale of this perfectly preventable tragedy.