The Plane was silent.
You could hear a pin drop, and silence was even more distracting then noise.
I sat in seat 36b, nestled between Sam and Brian, and that was nerve racking too. I tried to keep my eyes focused on my English Literature textbook, but I kept glancing up at Sam, who I could tell was nervous, as he stuffed fistful after fistful of peanuts into his mouth.
After the fifth packet and third handful, I couldn't help myself.
"You alright?" I asked, smiling warmly, trying to get him to relax.
Sam mumbled something around a mouthful of peanuts and nodded.
"He's afraid of flying." Brian said causally, glancing up briefly from his portable laptop.
Sam Frowned. "I'm fine." He said stiffly, jamming more peanuts into his mouth.
#bing#
I looked up, and so did Sam. The "fasten seat belt" sign lit up to a dull orange color, as the aircraft shuddered.
Brian finally looked up, and said, "You know statistically, the chance of a plane going down because of turbulence is less then one in a billion." Brian adjusted his coke bottle glasses and continued. "Or is it a million?"
I looked over at Sam, whose green complexion had changed to paper white. Oblivious, Brian was still rambling on. "I can't remember if it's---" I interrupted him, fearing Sam might hurl right there on the spot.
"Shut up Brian."
A flash of lightening illuminated the cabin.
"Sam, don't pay attention to him OK? Everything's fine."
I observed a flight attendant five rows back, offering a man a drink. "They're still serving drinks." I offered reassuringly. Sam nodded slowly, some color returning to his cheeks.
At that moment, a different attendant bustled past us, and tapped the serving flight attendant on the shoulder. Whispering something in her ear, the woman hurried past us again, and I watched as she strapped herself to a pull out seat.
The plane shuddered again.
#bing#
The captain came over the intercom. "Folks, it appears we're going to have a little bit of a bumpy ride here for the next few minutes. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts and put your tray tables and seat backs in their upright positions until we get through this. Thank you."
The intercom clicked off as the plane lurched down and shuddered once again.
I turned my head just in time to see the serving cart short past our seats. I gasped as I realized that the flight attendant that sat on the pull out seat was directly in it's path.
I watched with wide fearful eyes as the woman franticly clawed at her belt. Finally freeing herself, she jumped up, and flattened herself against the door of the bathroom stall. Just as the cart smashed into the wall, spraying soda and liquor onto the floor of the cabin.
As the aircraft and my stomach plummeted downward, Sam blindly grabbed onto anything he could find. He happened to find my hand, gripping the armrest tightly. I looked up, watching Sam's body tense, his hand squeezing mine until my circulation was cut off and my arm went numb.
The jet jerked violently, duffel bags and suitcases exploding from the overhead compartments. An aquamarine handbag with fake yellow flowers sewn on the front collided with my head, as a brown leather satchel fell into Sam's lap.
And then as soon as it started, it stopped.
My breath short, my body trembling, I looked down where Sa was still clutching my hand. "Sam." I whispered. Sam's body was rigid, and his face was contorted into fear and pain. He didn't seem to hear me.
"Sam." I said a little louder. He looked at me, his eyes glazed over, his mouth half open. "Can I have my hand back?" I asked, smiling as he snapped out of his trance. He looked down at our hands, which were entwined together, my fingers red. He removed his pale hand, and I flexed my fingers, trying to get the blood back into my hand.
Sheepishly, Sam chuckled, as the oxygen masks fell from their compartments, dangling in front of our faces.
I decided right then and there that this was my last plane ride.