Thoughts on a Plane

As I shuffle down the skinny aisle, trying my best not to bump into the shoulders of sleeping passengers, or those stretched so far over to give their seatmate more room, or maybe give more room to themselves. I see the faces of everyone, eyes glued to the little TV screens installed to the back of the seat in front of them. All lost in their own world, all watching different and similar movies. A glance at what they watch- a young man catching the newest romance flick, an even younger woman watching a cowboy on film, the couple pausing a horror movie to discuss their theories. I continue to the restroom, trying not to make eye contact. Body contorted at a slight twist to further prevent the uncomfortable brush against a stranger. If I did accidentally, would that person be mad? Would they ask for an apology, make a dramatic event out of it? Would they ignore it as we make eye contact, an apology forming within my pupils? Am I a nuisance simply for bothering to walk down the aisle? I try my best to keep my eyes down, to not make eye contact, but we always do. We can't help it. We are human.

I gaze across a dark-light cabin, faces illuminated by colored, moving screens, their glossy eyes reflecting back at mine, they can't help looking. I wonder what people think I am doing- am I going to use the bathroom? Maybe they are assuming I just need to stretch my legs? Maybe they are hoping to be me? They themselves must use the restroom, however, they are in between two sleeping passengers they'd have to begrudgingly wake in order to move over them. Or maybe they are afraid they'd brush into other passengers as well walking down the aisle and chose to remain seated. The flight’s only nine hours anyways, we can wait until we land.

We are all strangers, so disconnected. But somehow, we are all suspended in the air, together, headed in this direction, together, having made the conscious decision days prior to purchase a plane ticket for this particular day, for this particular time, for this particular destination, together. My twisted, intrusive mind thinks of when a plane crashes. Were all of those people meant to be together? Or is it all a coincidence? Are all of us passengers thinking of plane crashes? This time I look out, trying to meet someone's gaze. Are you nervous? Are you afraid? Do you have a fear something will happen to the pilot? The plane? A hijacking? I think of how people have survived plane crashes. The Uruguayan plane crash in the Andes Mountains. People, strangers, waking themselves up in order to rub the arms of another, to keep circulation going. To keep the blood flowing and the heart pumping. To keep them alive. To keep a stranger alive.

I search for those gazes. Those eyes ready to meet mine. Lifting up to catch the sudden movement out of their peripherals. I make contact. Eyes reflecting the light-up screen so brightly, they look like glass. But I know they are looking at me. And I look back and I smile. Their shoulders give a miniscule slump, and they smile back. That made them comfortable. I'd rub your arms. I don't know you, but I will help you survive. I scan more of the crowd. A sleeping man, mouth wide open with a blanket tucked under his chin. A mother, exhausted, holding her baby. Another man typing away at a laptop. Two children, arm rests lifted up to sit close to each other, eating snacks and watching whatever is on their screen with big headphones on their ears with pictures of cartoon characters all over them. None of us pay attention. Only responding to stimuli as I walk by. But somehow, we all ended up exactly here. How silly is that? How stupid and lovely is that? I almost reach the restroom and my walk back to my seat will be different only seeing the back of their heads. Then they will all look the same. My intrusive mind thinks of plane crashes again.

I smile at the last person who glances up as I approach the back of the plane's restroom. All the back of everyone's head now. Just TV screens, no faces. To be human is to be the same. I'd still rub your arms to keep you alive. I'd still die for you.