Our story begins on an idle plane at The Holy Goat Airport. Our hero (who we shall call Henry for the fun of it) sits down in seat 30B and fumbles with his hand luggage, forcing it down between his legs and then stuffing it crudely underneath the seat in front of him.
He was already dreading this. The nicotine from his last cigarette an hour previous was wearing thin as he tried to get his feet comfortable in the limited space provided for him. He was not a nervous flier by any means, but more of an impatient person in general. And the 24 hour flight to Cape Town International is never anyone’s idea of a good time. He adjusts the pathetic miniature pillow at the small of his back, and reminds himself that no one travels for fun. They travel for the promise of destination, and having been away from his hometown for over a year, the destination sounded very promising indeed.
It was a good corporate airline, as far as corporate airlines went. The food, he found, was never as bad as everyone said it would be. The movie selection was generally palatable and a decent way to kill the hours. But despite all the comforts they throw at you, Henry always felt that no one had perfected the art of enjoyable flying. It always sucked - at least in economy anyway.
30B was an isle seat with a single place to his left, the ever popular window position. He glanced briefly at the seat-belt laying lifeless in chair’s emptiness, and he began to imagine who (if anyone) would be accompanying him on the journey ahead.
People of all races and ages passed him, very few making eye contact as he judged each one as a potential candidate. The lucky passenger who would be elbow to elbow with him for eternity, and who would inevitably realise that he hadn’t showered that morning. Probably someone fat who’s sides were so big that their rolls covered his left arm rest. Probably someone eager to steal his last cracker when he wasn’t looking. Probably someone who smelt worse than he did.
Still, he recognized the irony in all of this. Henry had always been on the look out for the girl he would marry since he was a teenager, and the idea of meeting someone compatible on an aeroplane seemed like the movie kind of romance he loved. But a few years back on a flight from Brisbane, a beautiful girl had sat next to him and he lost all the courage to say anything to her at all. This is not to say that they didn’t speak, as he did succeed in spilling his miniature can of coke on his lap, to which the possible girl of his dreams responded with a polite “oh no!” That was the end of that.
Regardless, it was in the hands of the gods, and he tried once again to find some comfort. If not in the awkward seating, then in his thoughts of the destination ahead. The screen in front of him flickered as if trying to settle itself, occasionally displaying the airline’s logo splattering between bouts of static. More people passed him struggling with luggage they probably didn’t need. Each one clutching their ticket and scanning the seat numbers as if playing the lottery.
Henry was one week shy of his 25th birthday. This was the biggest part of why the trip was so important to him. That, and the fact that a girl he always fancied in high school had been in touch over the last few months, and the conversations between them had become progressively encouraging. The last email even going so far as to playfully suggest that they spend some time together at her holiday house in Hermanus. “You know, to get to know each other better?” This was all in theory though, and sitting in this stupid seat while members of the cabin crew smiled at him politely with dead eyes, he wondered if he had been careless enough to let his heart (or cock) lead him astray. Again.
“Is this 30A?”
He nodded a little bit too enthusiastically and she smiled, as he inelegantly lifted his knees to his chest to let her past. His first impression was that she was quite young. How young is always hard to tell with girls, but if he was a club owner, he would have asked to see her ID. However, she was naturally gorgeous in that television kind of way, and Henry loved television.
In a moment like this, you would expect his mind to become poetic and elaborate about her hair and her fashion sense and her mannerisms. You would expect him to compare her to inanimate objects or large systems placed in nature. But as this beautiful girl sat down next to our hero, all he could think about was the fact that he hadn’t showered this morning.
He wanted to say something to her, but he feared he might sound stupid or irritate this girl, much like many repulsive neighbour passengers had done to him in the past. She might be the silent flier type, which he generally preferred. He desperately wanted her to strike up the conversation, but we all know it never works that way. His brain began to play the tennis match of “should-I-shouldn’t-I” rules, until the intensity of anticipation rendered any worthwhile thought impossible. The screens trembled into a menu, and he watched her from the corner of his eye as she slipped away, putting her headphones on and beginning her own personal attempt at keeping herself entertained.
Henry was a smart guy, but smart can only get you so far. There always comes a moment when you have been defeated by your own irrationality, and while you could kick yourself, kicking yourself only makes you feel worse. Aware of this, he decided to surrender for now, and casually followed her lead by placing headphones onto his own head and searched for a suitable time waster.
Just as he had queued There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths and a Potato Milk b-side in his traditional “In-Flight Playlist”, it was interrupted by the usual safety instruction video. As if anybody needed to be reminded of how to inflate a life-jacket, Henry sighed as he had heard it all before. During this pointless education, the plane edged along, lined itself up correctly and hummed to the air as if gaining confidence. The video ended, and with a brief moment of static, the plane began to race down the runway to gather the mind boggling momentum it needed to lift off. This giant piece of metal filled with people, designed to shoot into the sky and go halfway around the world.
Take-off was one of Henry’s favourite parts of flying - on par with landing and turbulence. It was a thrill, best experienced from a window seat of course. He watched the lights speeding by the framework, but even more so, watched the back of this girl’s head as she too seemed fascinated by the magnificent process. His eyes slipped down her body, from her shoulders right down to her feet. Her shoes were off, and her toenails were painted blue. He loved that. He yearned for it.
The plane began to rise and his eyes darted back to the window again. There he caught her face reflected in the pane and he froze. It appeared as though she was looking right at him, her eyes meeting his in the glass as the background soared behind them. Had she seen him staring at her feet? Was she now uncomfortable with this perverted creep next to her? He turned his head in shame, back to his screen, looking at nothing at all except anything but her. This trip was already becoming more painful than he had anticipated.
The plane moved on, the food came and went, all while Henry tried to find some words which would make her laugh and feel comfortable. Words that would show her what a great guy he really was. But he knew that even if those words could be found, he wouldn’t have the tongue to say them.
It didn’t take long for him to realise that this was a pointless game, and so he reached into his hand luggage for the greatest way known to man to lose some time on a commercial airline. His hand scratched around until he produced two Nitrazepam pills, down the hatch with some Heineken, and then waited for the onset. 45 minutes later he began to feel very comfortable indeed, and then drifted off into a dream world of Cape Town, his family, his potential lover...
No telling how long Henry was asleep for, but he was ripped out of it like a Velcro nightmare. There was a roar of noise, a massive bang followed by the gasp of every passenger on board, as all the lights went out. A baby burst into tears, and he spun to look out the window. There was nothing but darkness. The girl looked at him, her eyes wide like her soul was shaking, as she spluttered “What’s going on?”
“I have no idea,” said Henry with confidence, no longer concerned with this girl and her potential influence on his life. Now much more concerned with the fact that something was definitely not right here.
All screens were off, and like stars at dusk, one by one the passengers turned on their personal overhead lighting. Henry reached up and clicked his and the girl followed his lead. People murmured and the air was thick with concern, but the plane itself - this giant machine that held all of their lives within its body - made no sound at all. Henry had never really realised how much noise a plane made until that moment, where no engine vibrated, where no mechanics whirred, where there was nothing but an eerie and unsettling quiet.
“What’s going on?” the girl repeated, as if this time Henry would know the answer. Although she was probably talking to anyone - to Henry, to God, to herself. He looked at her again, and despite all of this, she was still beautiful.
Behind him he heard a little boy’s voice quiver “Mommy, are we going to die now?” and his mom responded with a reassuring “Shhh!”.
And at that moment, Henry thought about it.
Are we going to die now?
“May I have your attention please! People! Just a moment, please. Settle down.” a voice called from the front. Finally, an authoritative figure. Someone who had the information that would bring theory into certainty, whatever that may be. The murmurs died down, but didn’t die.
“Please, everyone, settle down. There is no need to panic, we just need your attention please.”
No need to panic. Henry liked that.
“As you are probably aware, we have lost power to the plane,” the man who could have been anyone spoke with assurance. “We have no idea what may have caused this failure, but we are doing the best we can to fix this problem. We ask you to please remain calm in your seats as we see to this issue. This is not the first time in history that this has happened, and it won’t be the last. But all we need from you is cooperation and patience, and we will have you safely on land in no time.”
With that, he turned around and headed to the front of the plane, perhaps to deliver the message to other passengers, perhaps this man was even the fucking pilot. Regardless, none of it convinced Henry. “Safely on land in no time” is not something you would say when there was at least 18 more hours of flight time left. It was something you would say to disarm the masses, a false sense of hope to buy you some space.
The murmurs rose again.
“I had a bad feeling about this flight,” the girl spoke up again. Henry looked at her and she was staring blankly at the dead screen in front of her.
“When I woke up this morning, I just felt a little bit out of place”.
She swallowed and Henry opened his mouth to speak, but she continued before he had a chance.
“I have a strong faith in my gut feeling, you know. It’s my guide, and it told me not to go. I passed it off. I thought it was silly, but now I see my mind was the silly one.”
She turned to face him, now expecting a response. Henry’s thoughts went blank for a second, and then he answered.
“We don’t know anything yet.”
She nodded slowly. She had accepted this answer, but Henry had not. He also woke up this morning feeling very uneasy, but decided she didn’t need to know this.
Henry had always imagined what this would be like. I guess we all have. The moment a plane that carried him failed. He had always pictured there to be more of a frenzy, a blind panic of people screaming and praying. In a way, he felt like that would have been more normal - more what he wanted in this moment. But instead there was nothing but whispers and the odd muffled cry. It scared him. This was not a comforting silence.
“My name is Jaime” the girl spoke again. “If this is how I die, I want you to know this.”
He turned his body to face her.
“My name is Henry.” He stuck out his hand to shake hers. She took it lightly, and then said something he could have never imagined.
“My father raped me when I was 12,” she started. “He was drunk one night and came into my bedroom. He was very very drunk, drunker than ever before. And he just... raped me. It was my first time.” Her eyes looked wet, but her voice remained strong. “He only ever did it once, but it fucked me up big time. It was his breath, it just smelt so bad. That’s what really stuck with me. He told me that if I said anything to anyone, the Devil would steal me - original right? Fucking child abuse 101,” she sneered. “The next day he was back to normal, like nothing ever happened. Sometimes I wonder if he even remembered, or if I made the whole thing up. But who makes that shit up? I hardly even knew what sex was at the time.”
The words had come fast, but suddenly stopped. Two tears had decorated her cheeks, and she offered Henry a half-smile. “I’ve never told anyone this. I should have. I should have told my Mom, but I knew it would be the end of everything. Things were already pretty bad...” she let go of Henry’s hand and wiped her face with the back of hers. “I am sorry. I... I don’t know why, but that was the first thing that came to my mind. I felt... I just had to tell you this.”
She turned to face the blank screen and swallowed. The dead air of the plane seemed to amplify, the silence itself now deafening. Henry couldn’t help but look at her. He stared in amazement of the quick but aching moment this stranger had just shared with him, like she had already accepted this as her last chance to get it off her chest. He sat back in his seat and looked at his vacant screen for a few seconds, his reflection the only thing there.
“I killed my brother.”
Jaime slowly turned her head to look at him, as his last 4 words echoed in his head. He had said it out-loud. The memory he had avoided every moment of everyday, now out in the open to someone he didn’t even know, as if the platform had only presented itself now.
“I killed my brother, Jason.” he said again, louder this time. “I was 10 and he was 6. We were playing on the roof. We... we knew we weren’t supposed to be up there. My parents warned us so many times,” his voice cracked but the information started to pour out of him faster and faster, as though it was finally set free. “He... he said something about my braces. He always had something to say about them, Jason did,” and he laughed in a way that was more of a cough. “I pushed him. It really wasn’t that hard either, it was just a light push. Just a light fucking push. He lost his footing and... and he fell. Just like that, he fell. It was like slow motion. His face, I will never forget it. He fell and he landed on some low power-lines in our garden. I watched the whole thing, I still, I... I still watch it. The roof wasn’t high, but those fucking power-lines, they...”
He paused as Jaime reached over and put her hand on his shoulder. This act overwhelmed him and he burst into tears, that very moment the loudest sound on the plane. He couldn’t stop it, they just kept coming. “He was flailing around like a puppet. Like a fucking puppet! My little brother. I even thought he was joking - I hoped he was joking. But deep down I think I knew it was all too real. My parents... I had to call my parents and they screamed at me. Man, did they scream. I have never heard so much pain and... disbelief in my mother’s voice and all I wanted to do is go jump on those lines myself. It should have been me, I should’ve listened, but I killed him, Jason, my fucking little brother, I...”
“Shhhhhh.” His voice had become a frantic mess and Jaime was shushing him quietly. He stopped and listened. The whole place had begun to raise their voices, they had taken the queue from him. He had started panic around him just by his tone, and it had nothing to do with the plane. It had to do with the brother he had watched die.
He looked at Jaime, and they were both crying. He put his arms around her and sobbed, and it felt good. It felt like they had known each other their whole lives.
For some reason this calmed him. The plane felt so distant right now. He felt like he was in the eye of the tornado, the frenzy outside of his head finally louder than the frenzy inside. He looked at Jaime, and her eyes were calm. They felt the same way.
“I’m sorry.” he said, and she laughed. Not a fake laugh, a real laugh. This was not what Henry had expected, but he found himself laughing too. It was so surreal and yet somehow so natural.
“Don’t apologise,” she said. “This is not the time for apologies.” He still had no idea how old she was, but at that point, she seemed like the smartest girl in the world.
“I have pictured this all before,” she continued. “I pictured a plane going down and I wondered what my last words would be. I don’t want to die in fear, Henry. I am not afraid of death. I am afraid of dying in fear. I am afraid of dying in regret.” And Henry knew exactly what she meant.
“Tell me,” she continued. “If you died today, how would you like to be remembered?”
He was astounded. She seemed so together, and her very words soothed all of his fears. It was almost as if he wanted to die now, for dying next to this girl, her voice being the last he heard, would be a better way to go than any other he could visualize.
“I guess...” he cleared his throat. “I guess I would like to be remembered as someone who brought joy to people. I want to be missed as someone who lit up the room and made people laugh. Kept people’s minds off of their boring everyday problems, I suppose.” He cleared his throat again, completely unsure if he believed in what he just said at all, and then laughed.
“That’s the best I can come up with on the spot anyway.”
Jaime smiled. “Don’t worry, I get what you are saying. Wanna hear mine?”
“Of course,” he replied.
“I want to be remembered as someone who turned their life around. Someone who everybody doubted, and then I proved them all wrong by making something of myself. I want people to see my death as a tragedy in a sense. I know how that sounds, but... but there was a time where my death would have been so predictable.”
“Do you think you succeeded?” He asked curiously. “I mean, if you were to die now, do you...”
BANG. A thousand times louder this time. More screams, and then a ripping sound torturing the air, suggesting the plane itself was splitting in half. The metal around them cried so loud that nothing else could be heard. Gravity moved suddenly, pulling from all directions. Overhead compartments flew open and spat luggage out, bouncing from one side of the plane to the other. Henry felt his stomach come out of his mouth as if having one of those falling dreams, and he knew they were going down.
He couldn’t see anything, but a pair of hands gripped his head and pulled it in a solid direction. Jaime. Her arms got a hold of his body and he clumsily forced his arms around her, both squeezing tightly. Their heads bounced off of each other until her lips found his, and they kissed. No matter how hard the plane threw them in their seats trying to separate the embrace, they held themselves there and kissed, as the surrounding screams became inhuman and flames burst in from shattering windows. They kissed until the plane hit the water and exploded and they disappeared into nothing. In that moment. Forever.
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