Flight or..Flight.

Fear and Flights.
(1564 words.)

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_____________________________________________________________________________________I looked out the large airport window, watching the snow all but stop falling steadily onto the runway. I sighed and tried to focus on why I was there in the first place. I had finally gotten everything together for my life plan. Write a book, make some money, move to Paris, Write another book and continue to see England  and France. Well phases one and two were completed and continuing. But then I realized one fatal flaw in my plan, and it was only the night before I was planning to fly that it came to mind.
I'm terrified of flying in planes.
This was not a relatively new fear, I had been on planes before and only felt slightly nauseous , but that was only from Chicago to Texas, or from New York to Montana. Never over the open ocean, never for so long. I had lay awake all last night remembering on the news about how three planes have gone missing in the past two years. I was terrified, speechlessly so. I even think I hyperventilated a bit there. Images of 9/11 flashed through my mind, of a plane rushing to the ground at a hundred miles an hour as my fellow passengers and I floated around  helplessly in the metal death trap. At three in the morning I had finally had enough, flipping open my Windows two in one Tablet, I researched plane crashes, how to survive them and how to distress before a flight. And, if worse came to worse, I had also looked up the most effective sleep pills to take before the plane took off and made a mental note to pick some up at the local drug store. I had learned a lot of interesting facts that seemed to clear the fog of panic that had taken over my brain, such as the fact that the chances of my dying in a plane crash was one in eleven million. Which sounded like a nice big number to me, so I let that seep into my brain as I drifted of to sleep with survival plans and breathing techniques dancing through my head. Five hours later I was sitting in the airport, surrounded by flying death traps, and people crazy enough to actually pay to get on one, myself included. I sat in the seat farthest away from anyone and facing the window clutching at my Starbucks , watching as planes landed safely and took off smoothly. I actually felt my shoulders relax as I worked my brain into thinking this would all be fine. And then it started snowing. I remembered about how turbulence can be when the clouds effect the flow of the air over the wings, how the ice would effect how the planes landed on the runway. Or worse, they would cancel the flight and I was more likely to board a plane that was about to be bombed. I chugged the too cold coffee to muffle the panicked scream that was about to escape my mouth. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. I wondered if it was too early to take those pills yet. I stayed there staring out the window, not really seeing anything, tuning the entire world out, when out the corner of my eye I saw a man sit next to me. He wore a grey pair of sweat pants, a black hoodie and a pair of shiny white running shoes. He placed a heavy-looking dufflebag under the red plastic seat and sat with one leg crossed over the other as he stared straight ahead. He looked so calm and put together. I felt humiliated and small. He wasn't panicking about flying, because he was an adult damn it and I am just a silly woman who... Before I could figure out who I was, the man turned to me and looked me straight in the eye as he said with a mild Australian accent, "Mints help with nervousness, would you like one?" His eyes were the clearest blue I had ever seen, and he smiled with just the slightest look of pity in his eyes, his dark brown hair falling in his face. I found myself nodding unsurely as he pulled a small plastic bag of asorted mints out of his pockets. "T-thank, thank you." I stuttered as he took a few of the individually wrapped ones and placed them in my handbag. He resumed his staring out the window, but now every so often he shot me a side glance. Finally after a couple minuetes he asked "What flight are you?" He asked with the attitude of someone asking the time. "Umm.." That's me, the queen of comebacks. What flight am I? How was I supposed to know? I had just forgoten my own name! I glanced down at the bording pass in my lap. "Um, flight 238, gate B. And you?" He smiled, teeth and all, with not slightest amount of pity in his face.
It turned out his name was Alex, he was 27  and he was in New York on a research trip for a travel book he was writing. And he was the seat right next to mine on the flight.
I managed to not even think about the flight as we gave the way to perky blonde woman our boarding passes and walked onto the plane. I popped a mint in my mouth as we waited for the crowd of people to clear so we could find our seats. Alex tossed his duffel into the overhead compartment with ease, while I had to eventually jump to shove my carry on up there along with it. He offered to help but I mean come on, I'm a grown woman I should be able to at least put my own stuff away.  I let Alex take the window seat as I was sure that one look outside would make me vomit. He obliged, but he suggested that I sit next to him instead of the aisle seat. I agreed, but decided not to let him get too clingy.
Turned out that I was the one who was clinging. After the safety demonstrations and the waiting for the taxiing, it was taxiing. And then we were going down the runway. Then I closed my eyes and concentrated on the slightly smaller now mint in my mouth. "This isn't so bad." I mumbled. I heard a chuckle next to me. "That's because we are still on the ground, sweetheart."
Finally as  I felt the last wheel leave the ground I grabbed for something to hold onto, finding instead of the armrest a strong hand. I withdrew my hand slowly and reluctantly. Instead folding my hands in my lap, closing my eyes and remembering exactly where those sleeping pills were in my bag. I stared straight up at the ceiling, silently praying to a god, any god, to help me get through this. I yelped as we went through a bit of turbulence and grabbed Alex's hand. He smiled wryly and put both his hands around mine. "I promise that you will be okay. I promise. And I would not be offended at all if you wanted to take those sleeping pills you've been obsessing about since we took off." I gaped at him as he chuckled. "Go ahead. I've got my James Taylor, I'm okay." He took his right hand away from mine and pulled out a small Walkman and a pair of head phones out of his sweatshirt pocket. "Oh, okay. Well if you don't mind...I didn't get much sleep last night."  He nodded knowingly as he put his headphones in his ears. "Anything you need, just tap my shoulder, m'kay darling?" I wasn't so sure about the nicknames that seemed to flow so easily for him, but I nodded and fished out the pills.
"Can I have some water over here?" I called to  the flight attendant.
I woke up with a dry mouth and my head on Alex's shoulder. I stayed as still as possible, trying to remember what I was dreaming about. Something to do with tea. I sat up slowly and looked over at Alex, who looked as though he hadn't moved since I fell asleep. "You woke up at the best part darling" I glanced at him with wide eyes as he said with a grin.
"we're landing."
I never thought I'd be so relieved to see a plane so close to the ground. And when the plane landed I actually laughed like a madman. The plane touched down and had a relatively smooth landing, bumping a bit more than I'd have liked but hey, at least I didn't die.
When I finally got off the plane, when I was a hundred percent certain that I wasn't dreaming I threw my arms around Alex's neck and whispered "Thank you." I then left, not looking back. But when I clambered into the waiting cab outside, I went to pop one of the remaining mints in my mouth and what I found made me much happier. There, among the pills, ticket stubs and mint wrappers, was a card. On the card was a phone number that would later be a number that was forever on redial on my land line. And under there, in a perfectly messy scrawl, was written "I miss you already, phone me darling?" ___________________________________________________________________________________

-Jessica Baker-