Flight

“Shh it’s okay baby girl, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” the man beside me whispered to the crying child in his lap. She was quiet during takeoff, her eyes darting around her as she took in this strange environment.

They had boarded earlier with the rest of the parents with small children. I remember thinking how annoying it was as kids asked thousands of questions as their parents pulled over-packed suitcases and folded up strollers for the plane.

The inconvenience of a child was something I definitely did not feel I had missed out on. My child-bearing years came and went, undeserving of consideration or grief. After several miscarriages and other complications I had simply learned that children weren’t for me. And that was fine. I was free to do as I pleased, and that included boarding a plane without worrying about a screaming child in my lap.

“Hello passengers, the seatbelt sign is now turned off and you are free to move about the cabin,” said the deep, husky voice over the intercom. I looked to my left at the girl, who continued to cry. I didn’t smile, nor did I try to show any signs of comfort towards her. I’m not an evil woman who hates children, but I am someone who enjoys a quiet plane ride.

“I think her ears are popping, it’s her first flight,” came the voice beside me. I wasn’t aware that I showed any interest in what was happening, but I was polite.

“It’s fine,” I responded. It wasn’t fine, but what was I supposed to do?

“Do you mind if we sneak by you? I think she needs to use the bathroom and stretch her legs.”

“Yeah, sure.” I stood up to let them by. He looked at me, holding the red and wet faced child in his arms. A half smile came across his broad face. I understood. I stepped into the aisle to let them pass.

I began to notice some of the other passengers on the plane. Mostly adults, a few children. I thought how interesting it was that we were all strangers to each other. Yes, we were all heading to the same destination at the same time, our fates briefly intertwined. But once the plane landed, we would be strangers once again. That was a thought that comforted me.

I sat back down and watched as the little girl’s bright blonde pigtails bounced as she was carried. I can’t remember the last time my hair was long enough for pigtails. I preferred it short, and I was too old for pigtails like that.

“Poor dear, it must be her first flight,” commented an older woman in the row beside me. The woman beside her nodded in agreement. I remember watching them board, struggling to place their luggage in the overhead cabin. I stood there with my own suitcase, waiting for them to get settled. One of the attendants came over to help them, smiling and asking them where they were heading to.

“We just left another funeral, I’m afraid. When you get to be our age, you go to more funerals than birthdays. 92 years old, God bless,” she said as she shook her head. The flight attendant offered her condolences and smiled. She was much younger and prettier with rosy cheeks and a slick black bun tied tight behind her head. I wondered when her beauty would fade.

I had waited impatiently as the last of their bags were placed in the overhead. If these two women knew they were going to have such a hard time with their luggage, they should have said something sooner. I had no choice but to stand there and wait, my shoulder sore from the weight of my purse. Why did I always pack so much stuff?

I waited patiently as I saw the cart of drinks and treats come my way. If I was going to spend the next three hours beside a crying kid, I needed something stronger than the ginger ale I bought at the airport.

“And for you, ma’am?” asked the attendant. She was the same one who had helped the two women with her baggage.

“Gin and tonic, thanks,” I said. She smiled and handed me the drink. I took a sip, feeling the bite of gin. It wasn’t strong, but hopefully it would be enough to get me through the next couple of hours.

The attendant moved to the row beside me, smiling and chatting for a bit with the two old women. They smiled and laughed at some joke or memory the second woman said. I didn’t catch it, but I’m sure the attendant was only laughing to be polite. She’ll probably develop wrinkles early and ruin that smooth pretty face of hers if she keeps laughing like that.

I wondered if I should have ordered water or juice for the pair beside me, who were still in the bathroom. But, it was too late now. I’m sure they’d get a chance later.

I looked out the window for the first time. All I could see below were white wisps of clouds over a never ending sea of blue. Calmness fell on my shoulders, easing the muscles and tension that had been building up until now.

Why was I so stressed? I flew by myself dozens of times, and loved the adventure. Sure, a solo trip could be scary. But, that’s what made it so exciting. I wasn’t afraid of flying, and I wasn’t afraid of being alone. The thought of staying grounded in my densely crowded hometown? Now that was horrifying.

Nothing happened that was particularly traumatic or left deep impressions in my memory, but everytime I think about home I tense up. Mundane is the only word that comes to mind. The same kids from kindergarten through high school. I didn’t go to college, and instead worked at the library. There, I saw the same people in and out every day. I ate the same breakfast, packed the same lunch, and picked up the same dinner every day. It went on like that for a year. 365 days of routine and deep ruts.

Dating was something I did, but never something I paid much attention to. If he didn’t call back, I wouldn't take it personally. I knew I wasn’t the most exciting girl out there, nor the prettiest. I could spend an entire night with a man and never ask his name. Pregnancies scares resolved themselves, and I found myself with horrible cramps and blood a couple of times. But, once it was over, I would go back out to find a faceless man in a nameless bar.

“Sorry, do you mind getting up so we can slide back in?” came that voice from the start of the flight. How long had they been gone? It seemed like they were in that bathroom for hours. I didn’t keep track of how much time had passed. The little girl lay asleep in his arms, her pigtails tangled with small blonde hairs wild and free from pink elastics. I could not believe that, however long ago, this same sleeping child had been screaming and kicking. Her face was still red and puffy, with cheeks stained by tears. But she looked so peaceful in his arms, that I couldn’t help but smile.

I stood up to let them through. I didn’t ask what took them so long, it was none of my business. I watched as they passed me to sit down. There was something familiar about the little girl. Maybe she just had one of those faces that resembled thousands of other kids, like the ones you see on milk cartons or commercials.

“Attention passengers, we’ll be approaching our descent shortly so please fasten your seatbelts. Thank you for flying with us today, and enjoy the weekend,” came the pilot’s gruff voice. It seems like we had only just taken off moments before. But how could that be? The flight was to be about three and a half hours. Maybe I had fallen asleep and didn’t realize it. That gin and tonic might have been stronger than I realized.

“Oh good, we can stop and visit my sister before our next flight. We have some extra time,” came one of the voices from the old women beside me. She looked oddly familiar too. Perhaps it was because I had seen her several times throughout the airport. Or maybe she just reminded me of someone from long ago.

“I told you we’d make it, baby girl. We’re safe,” whispered the man beside me. I looked at them, curiously. I thought to myself that she must be an exact copy of her mother, because she looked nothing like this man. A step-father, maybe. But there was something strange about the way she slept and the way he held her. It was almost as if he was afraid she would fall right out of the plane. Despite the chatter and noise as we approached descent, she just slept. Could this really be the same child who had been screaming?

My father had never held me like that, at least not that I can remember. He died when I was young, and my mother and I never grew close. Tragedy can bring people closer. But, it can also create a sea in between a mother and daughter without a ship to carry them back to each other.

“Do you think we forgot anything? Oh dear I hope not, we can’t go back now,” one of the old women asked.

“I don’t think so. But, if we did, I’m sure the airport will have whatever we need or forgot,” responded the other.

It seemed like these two had been friends forever. The way they had talked on the plane about old friends and lovers, with breaks of laughter or tears in between stories. I never had anyone that close to me. Someone to share tears and laughs with.

My heart suddenly felt heavy. I was never one to get emotional, especially out in public. But I couldn’t stop the warm tears that flowed down my face and dripped into my hands on my lap. I ignored the seatbelt sign and unbuckled myself. I stood up to head to the bathroom. Why was I like this?

“Excuse me, ma’am, the seatbelt light is on. Please return to your seat. You can use the restroom when we land,” the flight attendant said. Her smile was so kind, so soft, but I couldn’t help but feel a rush of anger towards her.

“It’s an emergency,” I chided, pushing past her. She yelled after me to get back to my seat, her voice loud but not unkind.

I raced down the aisle, desperate to reach the bathroom. The tears kept coming, heavier and heavier. I could feel them weighing down my face. They dripped down my chin onto my chest. I felt my legs moving, but I wasn’t going forward.

A light hand tapped my shoulder. It was the flight attendant. She handed me a tissue and looked at me with her soft, gray eyes. Her smile was warm and bright.

“It’s okay, ma’am. You’re safe. Clean yourself up now, there you go. It’s alright. We’ve landed.”