Rattles (8): Emergency situation (3)

CRASH LANDING

I liked our flight attendant, and it's not just because she was the cutest girl I'd seen in ages. Every time she walked by, she made sure we were just fine, and that made me happy. After spending two weeks in China being looked down on for being some foreign schmuck, it was nice to feel appreciated again. Sure, she was probably just doing her job, but it made the long trip home a little better.

Business trips were always the worst. I had a little girl at home who was just starting to walk. As much as she liked to babble, she'd be talking any day now, and here I am in another continent for my company. I mean, that's cool too. I never thought I'd be a successful sales rep, and that it wasn't something I'd padded my résumé with as a euphemism for selling weed. I mean, I'd done that back in the day, but I was all cleaned up now, and that had made my life a million times better. My wife was college-educated and beautiful. She had her Master's and was going for her PhD so she could teach the good classes at her college. Little Missy was a surprise of sorts, but it's not like we weren't ready. We'd been in our new house six months when she told me she thought she was pregnant. My first thought was "Oh my god what are we going to do?" until I remembered we were almost thirty. You're supposed to be married, in a new house, and pregnant!

So now Missy was fourteen months old and the spotlight of my life. Katie and I were debating giving her a little sibling, but that was a conversation we'd been struggling to have. She didn't want to derail her education too much, plus I kept having to make these trips. My company was trying hard to get a contract with a popular retailer based in China, a luxury retailer that sold high-quality goods. I spoke the language (yes, I know, another total shocker. I am smart, you know), so they kept sending me over. This was my third business trip in two months, so it was getting old, but we were getting closer to our goals. I suspected they'd make the call any day now, rather I hoped they would make the call any day now.

The intercom buzzed and the guy next to me shifted to understand the English message: "We are now crossing the international date line. It is now—"

Static filled the cabin and I looked back down to my planner. It didn't matter anyway because I wasn't home yet, so I drowned out the Japanese, Chinese, and Arabic messages from the pilot. A moment later, the cart went by again, so I snagged a mini can of ginger ale. When I was finished with it, I pulled out the book Katie was having me read. It was some classic piece I missed when I didn't take all those Honors classes back in high school, but she was catching me back up. Besides, she was having her class read it next month, so she wanted to know what kind of crazy questions she might get. I was a champion of crazy questions.

I put in my headphones and looked down on the page only to feel like I was tilted. I looked out the window to see a hazy grey cloud over the ocean below. It was an odd scene, but I thought it was merely that, a cloud and a turn to avoid air traffic.

And then the flight attendant walked by. Her hot face was now etched with worry lines as she struggled to stand upright on her high heels. Whatever this was, it wasn't normal. I looked out again and realized we were almost completely on our side, and that cloud? That cloud was smoke.

I had been on a plane with trouble before. My first flight was marred with insanity. First we had to abort takeoff—it's as scary as it sounds. One minute you're expecting to lift off the ground, and the next the pilot is slamming on his brakes. He then had to taxi around to the terminal again, where we sat for three hours in the sweltering heat just to find out some gauge wasn't operating effectively or whatever, and then we got to fly off into the sunset. It was terrifying. I mean, why keep people on a plane with problems? Sure, we landed safe, but it made me skeptical.

Doing these trips made me forget a lot of these thoughts, but realizing we were sideways over the giant Pacific Ocean was enough to wake those fears back up again. I had a family back home, a wife and daughter who missed me so much they couldn't think straight. I couldn't die on this plane full of strangers.

But I was calm compared to the others. When another flight attendant fell in the aisle, people started realizing this was the Real Deal, not just some stunt the pilot was trying to pull. The seatbelt signs weren't even on until a minute had gone by, almost an afterthought compared to whatever was going on in the cabin.

A Chinese woman behind me started reciting Bible verses in her native language as others grew more restless. One man started openly sobbing and chanting something in Japanese, a language I did not grasp quite yet.

But fear was a universal language. I clipped on my seatbelt and reviewed the emergency landing instructions again, skipping over the airport nonsense and straight to the water landing. Our seat cushions were inflatable, which was nice, but they had big white characters with a black border letting people know not to open them until they were out of the plane. That was an unlucky combo and a good call on their part—other languages had the standard bold red as their warning.

After what felt like an eternity, the captain came over the intercom and let us know that the engines on the right side of the plane, which was my side of the plane and why I could see the smoke cloud, were disabled somehow. We were turning back as best as we could for an emergency landing, but the nearest airport was quite a ways away.

I decided then it was in my best interest to tune everything out. People around me were having absolute fits, and I didn't want to be that guy. I had to play the strong one at home with Katie and Missy, so why not for these people too? I just wanted to go home, so as long as I focused on that, I should be fine…or so I thought.

With a rattle that was audible even over everyone's cries, the plane suddenly shuddered and dropped so fast that I felt my organs react. I didn't even realize my eyes had rolled back until I recovered and saw everyone else. An elderly lady had passed out and slumped over her seat partner, a younger Chinese girl who immediately started screaming for help, but no one got up from their seats. The shaking had stopped, and we seemed to level out, but no one wanted to risk being in the aisle for the next one, especially the staff. The cute flight attendant called out instructions in their dialect of Chinese, and they followed them, slapping the woman's cheeks until she woke up.

Then both women were crying. People were praying in many languages around me, some to God and others to different deities. I took it all in not knowing who I would want to pray to right now. I wanted to get home, but that was clearly becoming a problem. The ocean below still looked far away, but how far away? How hard were we going to hit it? I knew fire was the least of our worries in the water. There were sharks to contend with, and if the water was cold, a lot of us would have trouble coping with the stress.

I knew I had to think of these things because I could feel the plane gently shaking, the kind of shaking you get in your car when there's something seriously wrong with it. Whatever was wrong with this plane, it wasn't just some gauge error or anything like that. No, this plane was going down and everyone knew it.

Yet I remained calm. The guy next to me started shrieking in some language I didn't understand. The lady behind me kept snatching magazines from wherever she could. The ones spread on her tray were covered in Korean characters as she wrote various messages. Behind her, two woman were praying in tandem, reciting the same Bible verse in Chinese. If it weren't already an emergency, that alone would be terrifying. You could tell they didn't know each other. Sometimes they would say a different word, which showed they were led by different Chinese pastors with different interpretations and versions of the same scripts, yet this bonded them together. They'd remember each other forever, if we got out of this alive.

I looked out a window and saw the sky, which was odd. I looked across and saw the ocean, except I could tell it was closer now. Something about the details told me we were a lot closer than we should be.

I braced.

The impact shook me to my core. I could hear the plane disintegrating over the shrieks, cries, and shouts of terror. The captain hadn't warned people about the impending impact, so not many of us were prepared. This showed—when the movement stopped and I looked up, people were sprawled in the aisles. Some still hadn't clipped their seatbelts, and those people? You don't even want to know what they looked like.

I could smell the sea water before I saw it flooding up the aisle. I unhooked my seatbelt and started screaming demands in every language I knew. We had to get off the plane. I grabbed my seat cushion and shoved it under my shirt. I needed my hands to pull people, more in motivation than anything else. My seatmate needed the extra push, but he finally followed me up the aisle.

I couldn't remember where the exits were, but it didn't matter now. In a matter of seconds, I was swimming up the aisle. I was going towards the light, where the plane was cut in half by the impact. I looked back to see who else was coming to see that the back half of the plane was gone too. People were escaping, namely the people who still could.

My seat mate was with me as we reached the break in the hull of the plane. A wave carried us down, but I pulled the cord once I was clear. I shot upwards. A moment later, he was with me. I linked my arm with his and started kicking away from the plane. He kicked too before stopping—the ladies reciting verses had made it out behind us. We all linked arms and swam together away from the plane.

There weren't many of us. As the hull of the plane became a pale shimmer and then nothing below us, no one else came up. I didn't see any crew members at all among us, but it was a big ocean. I could hear cries further away, but I remained quiet. The water wasn't cold-cold, but it was colder than I would have liked. I knew there was probably wildlife below us, but I pushed the thought from my mind. I made sure the cushion was comfortable, and I stopped kicking my legs. The others with me followed suit, and soon we were at the mercy of the sea.

"What's your name?" my seatmate asked in Chinese.

"Rattles Ciccone," I said, giving him the name I liked in Chinese too. The ladies gave me their American names, Lily and Mary. The man went by John in The States.

"You're a natural leader," Lily said in Chinese.

"I just want to get home to my family, Katie and Missy. Missy is my daughter and Katie is my wife. I miss them terribly and want to see their faces again," I replied in Chinese, looking up as another survivor approached. It was the flight attendant, bleeding down the side of her head but otherwise in one piece. We added her to the circle and floated along.

Our chances were okay in this weather. The waves moved us but weren't too big, and the sun was clearly rising to our east. It would get warmer as we stayed, because according to the flight attendant, the closest people were hundreds of miles away.

"They'll see that we're no longer on the radar and send someone to look down on us. They'll see the debris field and make the call," the flight attendant explained in Chinese. She squeezed her cushion, "It might be a while, but we'll be rescued."

"How soon will it make the news?" Mary asked.

"I don't know," the flight attendant admitted.

"His wife can't find out the wrong way," Lily said firmly, clearly talking about me.

"She's a strong woman. Everything is going to work out just fine," I said, but my hope was decreasing as the minutes ticked by. I was cold and soaked to my core, but mostly I was at the mercy of the sea and the flimsy float underneath my chest. For the first time, I started to pray.

[LINE BREAK]

Hours passed. There was no air traffic overhead, and no other survivors had joined us. I couldn't hear them either, but I knew we were still near the plane because debris would float by occasionally. The flight attendant recognized her carry-on bag and sighed heavily. There was no point in claiming our luggage now.

"Did you buy any souvenirs for your family?" Lily asked, smiling, "I had some small treasures, all worthless now."

I nodded, "Katie wanted a particular book in Chinese. It was rare and cost money, but she'll understand. I got a stuffed animal for Missy, but she's too young to remember such things. I'll have time to replace them in time, if I come back."

"You might not go back to China?" Mary asked with a scowl, clearly upset.

"I would love to go back to China, but not on a plane," I said, which they all agreed was the right reaction in this situation.

I heard a roaring. Across from me, Mary looked up and gasped, "Ei, what a huge ship!"

"We're saved!" the flight attendant cried.

Sure enough, this was a US-owned ship. It belonged to the Navy and had the capability to rescue us, not that there were many people to rescue. After a stressful hour of rescues, we were all in their hospital room on the ship. There were over one hundred people on the flight, but there were only fifteen people in that room. The flight attendant was the only staff. She was soon pulled away from us for treatment, but I knew she was really being questioned to find out what happened up there.

We were all given dry clothes, food, and drinks while we waited. A cargo plane was going to land on the ship's deck and fly us back to Japan for processing, then we would be able to contact our families and get flights home.

"Can't I just ride back with you guys?" I asked in English. The guy almost laughed but shook his head before disappearing again.

By the time the cargo plane arrived, our arrangements were made. Embassies had to be contacted because very few people had travel information. Lily, Mary, and my seatmate had to go back to China until their documents could be replaced, but I was being fast-tracked to America. Thankfully I got their contact information before being rushed off to a plane, this time a small private jet with some sort of philanthropist rich guy. I knew his plane was safe just by the looks of him, but I made a quiet vow that this would be my last flight for a long, long, LONG time.

[LINE BREAK]

Katie almost crushed me. She tackled me like a linebackers, screaming so loud people turned around to see if anyone had been shot. News of the plane crash had reached every international market, but thankfully my philanthropist kept the vultures—he means reporters—away from the little private airport we landed at. He arranged for Katie to be there, but Missy was back with her mother in Maryland.

"When they told me, I thought you were dead!" Katie cried, holding me so tight I was beginning to lose feeling in my back.

"I thought I was dead when I saw the ocean getting closer and closer, but here I am," I said, kissing her forehead, "I never thought I'd see you again."

"Me too," she sobbed, shaking, "Me too."

Katie wanted a flight back, but I refused. After making arrangements, we took a bus down to a train station, which would take us back east. It would take a few days, but we were able to stop long enough to get a change of clothes.

We talked and talked and talked. It was as if I'd been gone a million years, and it felt that way too. I had fully convinced myself I wasn't going to come back once the plane hit the water, once I saw how few of us were around us, once I knew help was a long way away. It was sheer luck that we made it as far as we did, and investigators were working hard to find answers for the hundreds of families who lost loved ones.

It was impossible to process, but my job agreed to give me several weeks off so I could seek therapy. Katie thought it was a great idea too, and while I wasn't too keen on it, I knew I'd need help. I was already having dreams of the plane going down again, dreams that woke me up screaming. I couldn't do this on my own, so I was grateful for the resources. I was also grateful to hear I wasn't going to be the company's Chosen One for cross-planet trekking, at least until I told them I was ready again. I doubted I ever would be, but at least I had the option.

When I returned to Metropolis, Katie's mother ran towards us with Missy, who cried when she saw both of us. She had no idea what had happened, that I almost didn't make it home. Honestly, I never want to tell her. I never want her to know how close I was to never coming back, to sending her down a path I traveled way back when I was little. It was too much, and I couldn't do that to her, not at all.

~End

A/N: Piece 29 of 100 for my 10x10 Challenge. I'm doing this challenge specifically for NaNo 2018 (and this is the piece that got me to the big 50k!), but you can take all the time you need. PM me with any questions, and you can find the rest on my profile.

This is probably the deepest one yet if I'm being honest. I doubt I'll post these in order or anything, but yeah, this one hurts to look at. I really hope I'm never in a situation like this. I mean, I can't swim so I'm pretty much screwed anyway, not that I see myself ever making international flights. I know this is rare, so even if I do, this wouldn't happen, but still, wow. I've been watching a lot of Air Disasters on the Smithsonian Channel and it's just…wow. Crash survivors go through a lot of stuff, so yeah, if you've ever been through trauma like this, seek help. PTSD is real and is treatable, so get yourself checked out. You won't regret it.