Liminal Spaces

Takeoff for her flight had been by the book, though Maddie wouldn't have noticed either way. She was busy ruminating on how embarrassed she had been prior to the plane’s departure, judging herself for how she had bungled, well - everything.

* * *

Maddie recalled how she slung her duffel into the overhead compartment and collapsed into the aisle seat, thrilled to finally be off her feet. She was one of the last to board, and she looked it; red faced and slightly sweaty from traipsing through the airport to the back section of the plane. She was sharing a row with a kindly looking older couple, Hank and Rebecca. Rebecca wore a darling handknit vest in purples and pinks. Hank was diligently knitting while Rebecca read a large print paperback she held cautiously with arthritic fingers.

“No honey, I just sat down in my seat,” she sighed, huffing into the cell phone held to her ear. “Yes, I understand I’d be less out of breath if I lost some weight. ….Mark, I’m going to have to let you go soon.”

On the other end of the connection, Mark’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, “Of course, sugar dumplin'. Hey, remember to be considerate of your seatmates, you know how you have a tendency to spill over into other people’s seats.” Her cheeks went pale.

Maddie shifted in her seat, tucked her arms tightly into her sides, and leaned away from the middle seat as much as she could. Rebecca graciously pretended not to notice anything, and kept reading her paperback copy of “The Psychology of Zelda.”

Mark continued, “You know, you left in such a rush, I’m not sure what I’ll do for dinner. Did you think about that? I have my poker night tomorrow, too - and there’s no snacks in the house. Did you want me to look like a bad host?”

Maddie grimaced, “Mark. My mother is in the hospital. She doesn’t have anyone else.” A deep breath. “And there is food in the house. I took a lasagna out to defrost before I left. And a grocery delivery will be there in the morning. I know you don’t like driving, but you could call for delivery if you don’t want lasagna?” Maddie’s voice trailed off, sure she had said too much, been too critical.

She cringed as Mark let a silence build. “Wow, babe… Just, wow. You don’t even like your Mom that well and it feels a lot like you’re choosing that bitch over me.” Mark’s voice carried through the phone’s speakers.

Hearing this, Hank and Rebecca exchanged an annoyed look, though their eyes softened at Maddie’s hunched shoulders.

“Mark, that’s not fair.” A silent beat. “Mark, I’m sorry. I know I left suddenly, and you’re right that my mom and I have had our troubles, but that hardly matters now and also… Please don’t call her names.”

“Then she shouldn’t act like that!! It’s not her business if I’m working or not. You never tell her that though. My book isn’t coming along as fast as I’d like, but you never defend me with her. A good spouse would be supportive. I support you, don’t I?”

Maddie’s jaw dropped, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Her free hand clenched into her sweater, fingers turned white with pressure.

Meanwhile, a flight attendant was making his way down the aisle, closing overhead compartments and reminding passengers to buckle up. He was built like Mark: tall and broad with a bit of a belly paunch, his black hair was beginning to go salt & pepper. Where Mark wore his hair long and kept a prodigious beard (to better look the part of a fantasy author), the attendant’s hair was close cropped and his face clean shaven.

Seeing her distress, the attendant made a beeline for Maddie. Maddie froze. He seemed stern and she was already in trouble with Mark. Why had she opened her dang mouth to defend her mom? She wouldn’t know Mark was calling her names. Should just let sleeping dogs lie, don’t rock the boat.

Maddie realized she was rocking forward and back in her seat, an old self-soothing behavior Mark hated. “Why are you doing that?” he’d ask. “You’re not being abused, so you shouldn’t act like you are. That’s not fair to me, or to actual victims of abuse. I’m working on my temper, you know that. And it hurts me deeply that you can’t give me the benefit of the doubt.” He always said things like that so calmly, so matter-of-factly. As if of course this was an accurate and reasonable way to be. Mark was Maddie’s second serious relationship. Maybe he was right?

Maddie shook herself from her rocking, gulped and made eye contact with the attendant. His name tag said “Bruce - Las Vegas, NV.”

“I’m sorry.” Maddie whispered to Bruce, her eyes plaintive.

Mark was still talking, “And don’t forget - the cat boxes will need to be cleaned when you get back. Speaking of which, your cat pissed on my chair again.”

Maddie made phatic noises and sprinkled in apologies as Mark continued. The phone slowly descended from Maddie’s ear to sit in her lap. She turned to Hank and Rebecca, who had put away their book and knitting and were looking at her like she was a lost child. Maddie apologized to them, too, then darted a glance back at Bruce. “Sir, I’m sorry - what did I do?”

Cursing erupted from Maddie’s lap before Bruce could even open his mouth. As if pulled by a string, Maddie’s arm yanked the phone back up to her ear. She pressed it close, trying to minimize the sound, too flustered to find the call volume button. “I'm sorry, of course I was listening.” Maddie held her breath, “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.” As she reassured Mark, her eyes got bigger, glassy with unshed tears. Everyone was gaping at her. Judging her for being fat and late and on her phone and a bad wife, a bad cat mom, and a garbage human and …just the worst.

Bruce didn’t understand what he had walked into. Did she have the world’s worst boss? Partner? His eyes swept back down the aisle. The other attendants had finished their pre-board tasks and were glaring daggers at him because he was lagging behind. Bruce cleared his throat to get Maddie’s attention. She looked up at him like she expected to be slapped.

Fire licked up his spine, angry at whatever had conditioned her to shake like that. He tried to modulate his voice for comforting firmness. “ Ma’am, are you okay?”

Maddie peered at him like was speaking German. “Yes, I’m fine.” She turned back to the phone. “No, sweetie, the flight attendant was just checking on me…. No, I don’t know why.” She kept darting glances around the cabin. Everyone else had already put their electronics away. “Mark, please, we depart soon.”

As she said this, expletives occasionally punched through the phone speaker. Maddie jumped each time.

Bruce considered the scene. She wasn’t fine. Crying, probably in an active panic attack. He took in the rest of the row. Rebecca met Bruce’s gaze and minutely shook her head, then looked intently at Maddie’s phone. Bruce followed her eyes, and understanding blossomed. He’d dated a “Mark.”

Bruce tapped Maddie’s shoulder, gently. She still startled, but at least didn’t brace for a slap this time. “Ma’am, please give me your phone.” It appeared that she wanted to, but couldn’t will her hand to move. Bruce opened his palm, let a bit of steel into his voice. “Now, ma’am.” Maddie obeyed, responding to his firmness almost reflexively.

Bruce raised the phone to his ear, “Mark, this is Air Marshal Wyatt Elliot. Due to the flight’s impending departure, all electronics are now required to go into airplane mode. Your wife spoke with you as long as she could, but it is now time to end this conversation.”

Mark pivoted immediately, “Well, I wish she had said something! She never tells me what I need to know.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and made sure Maddie saw him do so. “Well, I’m saying something now.” He cut the call and handed the phone back to Maddie.

Maddie took her first deep breath since sitting down on the plane.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry - that was an overstep. It is my and the airline’s policy to respect passenger’s autonomy and privacy to the maximum extent possible, save for concerns for passenger safety and regulatory compliance. When I come by during beverage service, I’ll leave you the contact information necessary to file a complaint, if you so choose.”

One of Bruce’s colleagues slammed closed the overhead compartment above Maddie’s row. Both Bruce and Maddie flinched. “Bruce, are we going, or what? I can tell the captain you’re busy??”

Bruce grinned sheepishly. “Again, my apologies, and I hope you are safe.” He then strode back down the aisle to the attendant’s seats.

Maddie whispered after him, “Thank you.”

* * *

Maddie would never admit this to Mark, but she was grateful Bruce had ended the call. Like many iterations of Mark’s lectures-turned-rages, she had desperately wanted to leave, run, fake her death; but she couldn’t make the screaming in her head translate to actually moving her body or doing anything, really, other than fawning at Mark until he calmed or his ego was appeased.

It had been 5 minutes since she sent her sister a text with her arrival ETA and gate number. Right after, she’d turned on airplane mode, but not before Mark’s texts started rolling in:

“We’ll talk about your behavior when you deplane.”

“I just want to be reassured of your safety.”

“Who actually was that man?”

“Do NOT leave me on read!”

Maddie had left him on read. She was more scared of airplane jail than Mark. For now, at least. She caressed the phone, willing herself to calm down, so she didn’t embarrass herself or inconvenience her seatmate.

Mark’s voice jangled through her mind, chastising her for all the other times she’d been unreachable. For not telling him she had gone to a movie with a friend. When she left her phone at her desk and that staff meeting went long. That one time her phone battery died while she was running errands. When she stayed in the bathroom longer than he expected.

“I’m just worried about your safety.” He’d say, pushing hair out of her face, “You like me taking care of you.”

“I didn’t know where you were and I got anxious - you know I have a vivid imagination and my ADD makes me hyper focus.” He’d explain, and Maddie would promise to be more tolerant.

“Are you ok? You were in there for a while.” He’d solicit. “I’m just concerned for your health.” And Maddie would skip dinner.

“Well, I prefer you be in the same room as me. Married people should spend time together. Don’t you like spending time with me?” He’d sigh with vulnerability, and Maddie would agree, canceling plans with the girls via furtive text.

“Is that all you were doing?” He’d accuse. And Maddie would spend the rest of the night trying to clear her name, determined not to do whatever she’d done that made him suspicious.

Mark had already been…let’s call it ‘agitated’... when she gave Bruce her phone. She was definitely going to catch hell when he got ahold of her again. At least she’d be out of state. Mark couldn’t physically get a hold of her for a while. Not that he’d ever hit her, of course, or even threatened to.

Maddie was ashamed, but she thought it would be easier if he did hit her. She knew that wasn’t okay. She had doubts about some of his other quirks, but usually ended up writing them off or getting distracted. Hey, he put up with how she’d gained weight, her depression. Shouldn’t she try and return the favor?

As the minutes ticked on, and no one raised their voice or had a crisis, or even asked Maddie to do anything, she had a feeling of eerie quiet. Waiting. What was this sensation?

The coiled spring of anxiety was still lodged in her chest. But this quiet was different than the dark portentous stillness that sometimes preceded a rough encounter with Mark.

No, this wasn’t a pensive, weighty quiet. It. Just. Was. Quiet.

She caressed her phone again, almost worshipfully, as imagery started flooding her mind. A flower blooming in broken concrete. An old dog with world weary eyes, wagging its tail tentatively. A child with a wounded knee, crying in a sandbox while parental figures administered first aid. A woman in a sundress and flower crown, dancing by a river, hair obscuring her face. The woman was laughing and just...gleefully taking up space.

Maddie didn’t know what it meant, but she badly wanted to be that woman. She began crying in earnest; sniffling and quietly sobbing.

No one shushed her, or chided her for making them uncomfortable. No one noticed at all. And for Maddie, it was wonderful.

* * *

Rebecca realized she had read the same paragraph four times, but had absorbed none of it. Hank was gently snoring to her right and her seatmate was clearly going through something. Rebecca admitted to herself that she was curious and concerned.

Maddie had been rocking in her seat and staring at a silent phone screen with mixed wonder and apprehension. Tears streamed down her face. Rebecca remembered when she had been this stressed herself and decided to pay forward some aid she’d received back in the day.

“You know, I just love liminal spaces, don’t you? I’m Rebecca, by the way.”

Maddie looked quizzical. “I’m Maddie. Our friends call us Mark-n-Maddy. Mark jokes that people don’t know me, and think his last name is “Unmattay” or something.” She clapped her mouth closed, bracing for critique. When none occurred, Maddie went on, “But I prefer Madeline. You can call me Maddie, though.” She bit her thumb, anxious. Had she already blown this interaction?

Rebecca smiled, “Well, Madeline, pleased to meet you. What do you think about liminal spaces? You know, places of -”

Maddie cut in, “I know what they are; places of transition. You just surprised me - I was thinking that’s a heck of a first volley for small talk with a complete stranger. I’m sorry for interrupting you. Mark hates it when I do that. Please - finish your thought.” She trailed off again and pressed into her seat as if wishing to melt into it.

Rebecca chuckled and gently tapped her shoulder to Maddie’s. “Hey, no worries - I’d rather have a vibrant conversation with the odd overlap than stilted performative politeness anyways. Plus, you’re a rare one who actually knows what the term means.”

Maddie blushed. “Not really, Mark’s the smart one. I must’ve learned the term from him.”

Rebecca decided to let the self deprecation pass. “Ah. Well, I’m interested in what your thoughts are. Do you like liminal spaces? What’s your favorite example?”

“Well, the classics are stuff like hotel lobbies or train stations or even airplanes.” They shared a smile. “Or really anywhere you’re not quite ‘here’ but also not quite ‘there.’ I like those because the people moving through the spaces are in literal transition. In those places, I can be…” happy, safe, solvent, balanced, she thought, “...Anything at all. So I like them.”

Maddie paused, surprised at herself for speaking that long, and that she hadn’t been interrupted or stopped or corrected.

Rebecca just gently smiled and nodded. “Go on, Madeline.”

“Um, ok. Thank you. Well, those places are cool, but my very favorite are where the place itself is in transition. In high school, I was on the debate team and we often had weekend tournaments. When we got back on Sunday evening, we had to bring our materials back to the coach’s classroom. Anyway, seeing hallways quiet and dark and knowing I was one of a few who got to see it that way - well, it was special. And, like, is it still a school without students?”

Maddie wondered who she would be if she wasn’t with Mark.

“And I think the school had more character than most of us saw and.” Maddie briefly clenched her face in preemptive embarrassment. “Well, I think people are like that too. There’s usually more to them than what they show to the world.”

Rebecca grinned, “Heck, I was just gonna say being in liminal spaces is a good excuse to practice different accents!” She elbowed Hank in the ribs. “Hank - I got a wise one!”

Hank startled awake, arms flailing like a Muppet, “Beavers and Ducks!!” Rebecca cackled and Hank pecked a kiss onto her cheek. Had he even been sleeping?

Maddie marveled at their easy camaraderie and belly-laughed, a joyful noise that turned heads 6 rows in front of her. No one told her to stop, or that she was too much. And for Maddie, it was wonderful.

* * *

Later in the flight, Bruce and his colleague finally reached Maddie’s section with the beverage cart. Bruce was relieved to see that Maddie was no longer crying.

In fact, she was talking to her seatmate rather animatedly. “Darn skippy, Han shot first!” She met Bruce’s eyes and smiled diffidently. “I’m sorry, have I been too loud?

“No ma’am, no complaints. What would you like to drink?”

Maddie wrinkled her nose. “Diet Coke?”

Bruce took a chance and trusted his gut. “Is that what you’d pick for yourself?”

Maddie furrowed her brow and tilted her neck - a confused puppy. “Well, actually. Um, do you have ginger ale?” She sat a little straighter. “And I like lots of ice, please.”

Bruce obliged, also handing her a business card. “This is the SVP for passenger experience. If you decide to file a complaint about my behavior, she’s where you go.”

Bruce made Hank and Rebecca’s drinks and continued down the aisle. Hank reminded Rebecca to take her medication, and Rebecca patted his hand, appreciative.

Maddie stared at the card, smiled, and sipped her ginger ale. When was the last time someone had followed through with her, especially when they had something to lose?

Maddie felt like she mattered. Like Bruce and Rebecca took her seriously. Like, maybe Rebecca even enjoyed her company? Even though she hadn’t done anything for her? These were strange thoughts. New thoughts. Maddie fell into a contemplative quiet, turning these ideas around in her mind like smooth river rocks.

Later, Rebecca fell asleep with her head on Hank’s shoulder. Hank capped his knitting needles with rubber tips and draped his work in progress, a heavily cabled shawl, over Rebecca. He whispered to Maddie, “She loved to knit, you know. But her hands gave up on her. I knit for her, now. I know it’s not the same as doing it herself, I know that. But she deserves to wear pretty one of a kind things, and I’m just grateful I get to see her smile when she wears them.” His eyes glistened, as he spoke, and so did Maddie’s.

Is that how marriage can be? She’d read about Love™ in books of course, and online “Aint Love Grand” listicles, but seeing it in real life was a revelation. She surveyed the rest of the cabin, wondering if anyone else saw what she saw. No one did. This snapshot of devotion was just for her. And for Maddie, it was wonderful.

* * *

The overhead announcement system crackled on. The pilot announced they would be beginning their descent soon, and would be arriving right on time. Madeline relaxed in her seat, savoring the potent energy of the plane’s liminality.

When she boarded, she’d been married to - she was beginning to realize - someone who was harmful to her. When she deplaned, she would still be herself, of course. Would still have to deal with the crisis of her mom’s health. But she would also be someone who knew that relationships shouldn’t hurt.

As the plane began its descent, Madeline’s thoughts churned with questions she’d never let herself ask: What do I do now? What if Mark is wrong? What if I can take care of myself? What if I'm wrong? What if I don’t deserve how he treats me?

She realized she hadn’t bungled anything at all. And that she was wonderful, all on her own.