'You're telling me to just forget about it!' Tony exclaimed in an incredulous tone, staring at the phone in disgust. 'Mr. Miller, I refuse to be treated as a criminal. Like I said, I had nothin' to do with that carton on the bench. I wanna lodge an official complain, and I'll expect you to deal with it personally! It's your job, right?'
Hudson Miller, a senior diplomat in the US embassy sighed patiently. 'Now Mr. Almeida, I understand your frustration, I really do,' he began in the same placating tone he always used to relax righteously outraged American nationals. 'But my hands are a little tied. You're admitting there WAS a carton on the bench beside you which you ignored. You have to understand that littering is a crime taken very seriously round here. They saw an empty package beside you which you walked away from, they were duty bound to fine you.'
'You're not hearing me, Mr. Miller,' Tony snapped, glaring at the phone. 'IT WASN'T MINE! I had NOTHING to do with its presence! I…'
'Mr. Almeida, I'm only explaining your options,' the diplomat replied in a soothing tone which only worked him to a deeper rage. 'Once a crime has been committed, they will find the culprit, or the nearest person, and deal with the matter! Now I can take the matter to court for you, but I need to know a few things. First, did you at any time touch the package?'
Tony paused, cursing himself mentally. 'Yeah,' he admitted reluctantly. 'I pushed it aside when I sat down. It's got my fingerprints on it…'
'Well then, Mr. Almeida, you have no case,' the diplomat informed him, unhelpfully. 'Take my advice and let it go. They treated you surprisingly leniently if you think about it. The normal fine for littering is 1000 dollars, not a 100!'
'Thanks for the advice,' Tony snapped, laying the phone down a lot harder than necessary, working off his frustration on the only piece of local equipment he was able to lay his hands on. Relax, Almeida, your flight's boarding right over there. Take his advice, catch that plane and get outa here. He seethed as he carried their things onto the plane and stashed them in the lockers.
Tony turned back, his eyes meeting his mother's as the plane began its take-off run, its engines roaring. Her eyes met his with a calm assurance, her desire to leave the island overcoming her lifelong phobia of flying. They gathered speed, racing after a Thai Airways that rose in a steady arc directly before them. 'It looks real beautiful from up here,' Michelle whispered, her hair brushing his face as the plane dipped a wing, offering them a spectacular view of the city state, every building illuminated in the darkness.
'From up here, yeah,' he whispered back, overcome by a sudden pounding headache fed by exhaustion and hunger. Once they gained altitude and leveled out he unfastened his seatbelt and set off to wash his face, sinking into his seat once he returned with closed eyes. 'Wake me when the food arrives, honey,' he mumbled, half asleep.
Michelle nodded, turning her attention back to the window. 'Tony, could we be flying over Malaysia already?'
'Aha,' he grunted, attempting to find the most optimum position for his head. At least they put us in business class. Twelve hours squashed at the back would be real hard to take. His growing headache prevented him from the rest his body craved. Focus, Almeida. Sure you feel bad right now, but you'll ask for some painkillers when they bring your dinner and you'll be fine. You're on the plane now. You've left all those hostile cops behind. He slid lower in his seat, turning his face into it.
'Sweetheart, are you ok?' his mother questioned, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He raised his head reluctantly; aware she was the one person on the planet he was unable to fool.
'It's ok, mom. It's nothin' a coupla painkillers and a dinner won't cure.'
His mother stroked his hair, opened her handbag and withdrew two tablets. 'They can be taken on an empty stomach, sweetheart,' she assured him. He threw her a grateful glance as he reached for them, swallowing them with the remainder of Michelle's orange juice. Once again he burrowed round attempting to locate the most comfortable position, waking to Michelle shaking his shoulder. A trolley was wheeled into the aisle and he sat up, running his fingers through his hair to tidy it before the stewardess reached him. A tray of steaming hot lasagna was set before him, the smell soothing him as he burned his tongue. He devoured the first half, eating the second slower to savor every mouthful, and finally ended up finishing the remainder of Michelle's meal. By the time he finished his second cup of coffee his customary sense of humor returned.
'Had enough, sweetheart?' Michelle asked, stroking his hand with her own.
'Yeah,' he replied, squeezing her fingers. Leaning forward he withdrew the in-flight magazine, opening it to the map and examined the projected flight route with interest. 'We're somewhere over Burma. I flew this way once years before. They got a fantastic coast line, I can tell ya.'
Michelle laughed, shaking her head. 'Aha. And you're regretting that it's too dark to see anything.'
Tony nodded, leaning over her to peer out of the window, disappointed to note pitch blackness beneath him. 'Not a single light,' he muttered, sitting back down. Michelle shrugged, telling him to settle down and watch the movie instead. The first movie was a romantic comedy which was gratefully received by both ladies, while his father moved over to an unoccupied row opposite them and studied his plans. Tony moved across to join him, peering at the drawing. 'Is it done?'
'Sí, I just wanted to make certain it was designed the best possible way,' his father replied and he chewed his lip hard to prevent a grin. Marco Almeida agonized over every one of his designs up until the moment he delivered them to his clients.
'I think it's fine, Papa, and I should know. I spent enough hours tracing designs, right?'
His father nodded. 'Right. Your first job, m'ijo.'
'All that practice came in useful when I done engineering at college,' he remembered, rolling the design up. 'I impressed my professor from day one!' They chatted about a variety of topics, an eye on the movie. He accepted a third coffee against his father's wishes, an eye on Michelle who appeared so engrossed in the comedy, a hand over her mouth to prevent her laughing aloud that she failed to notice. Sipping it hurriedly, he concealed it beside him as she glanced in his direction, smiling at her.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, movie forgotten. A moment later she removed her headphones and crossed the aisle, holding out a hand. 'Pass it over, Tony!'
'Pass what?' he inquired, a puzzled expression on his face.
She ignored him, reaching behind and withdrawing the cup. 'Oh no! Tony, we discussed this before! Caffeine is unhealthy – it thins the bones, strains the heart, and prevents you from getting enough rest. That's the last one you're having on this flight!'
'Sweetheart, we got another ten hours,' he protested, eyeing her hopefully. 'Surely I can get a coffee before we land?'
'You can get one over the Mediterranean, and not before,' she decided, removing his empty cup. Throwing him a meaningful look she left, returning to the movie.
Tony shook his head, folding his arms. 'Next time remind me to take a different flight,' he muttered.
'She loves you very much, Antonio,' his father assured him amused. 'You don't know how fortunate you are. When a woman quotes statistics about health, she loves you.'
He nodded. 'I know. When is this movie over?'
'When that couple gets married,' his father guessed. 'Is there anything on afterwards?'
'Aha. Something about 4 scientists transporting themselves to an alternate universe. Why couldn't they have started with that one?'
'Ladies first,' his father reminded him.
An hour later the second movie began and he returned to his seat beside Michelle, putting his headphones on. She fidgeted beside him for several minutes before removing her headphones and pulling his own off. 'What's up, sweetheart?' he questioned.
'Why show such a boring movie? It's hardly fair; we've got no other choice! That first one was SO good.'
He grinned at her, fondling her curls. 'Get some sleep, sweetheart. You'll want to be alert for Rome,' he advised, placing her head on his shoulder. He wrapped her in a thin blue blanket carefully, kissing her forehead as she snuggled closer against him, a lump in his throat. Movie forgotten, he ran his hands through her hair, gentle rhythmic strokes until he heard her breathing turn quiet. Not wishing to disturb her he left his head on top of hers, aware her preferred sleeping position was with her head tucked snuggly into the crook of his neck. He watched the remainder of the movie from his right eye, his left buried in a mass of curls, falling asleep before the end.
A loud ringing awoke him, the lights all turned on. A stewardess hurried along the aisle, ordering him to place his seat in the upright position and secure all loose items. 'Why?' he mumbled, rubbing his eyes, but she had already departed, waking an elderly man in the back of their compartment. Groaning under his breath he collected their bags and placed them all in the overhead lockers, relieved so few people occupied business class. 'Michelle, sweetheart, you gotta wake up,' he whispered gently, shaking her shoulder. 'You should go use the bathroom now.'
She gave the funny guttural moans typical of her whenever she was woken unexpectedly, blinking in bewilderment at her surroundings. 'Come on, honey,' he urged, pulling her to her feet and leading her to the bathroom. 'Hurry. You might not get another chance for a while.'
The bell rang again. 'Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Radar indicates we are heading into severe turbulence. Please return to your seats, place them in the upright position and fold all trays. The fasten seatbelt sign is now on.'
Oh boy. This gotta happen when mom's on a plane! Ironic, almost. You've flown that many times and managed to avoid severe weather, and this first time she's flying with you, you're heading straight into a storm!
'You nearly done, sweetheart?' he asked lightly, determined not to alarm either woman. Once she came out he hurried his mother in, making certain Michelle was securely strapped in. 'I'll be right back, sweetheart,' he assured her, determined to give his mother a hand as the plane shook slightly. The shaking increased gradually over the next minute before the ground fell away beneath him. Had his fingers not gripped a seat so tightly he would have slammed his head in the ceiling. A shriek reached his ears from the third class and the plane's engines were turned to full power to ride through the turbulence. His mother emerged, white faced. Tony wrapped his arm round her and guided her back to her seat where his father fastened her seatbelt, insisting they were in no danger. His mother disagreed, noting the alarming way the left wing kept tilting upwards. 'He's right, mom. This is a Boeing 747, one of the world's most secure aircraft. It can fly through much worse,' he assured her, reaching behind him to squeeze her hand. 'It can fly through a hurricane quite safely. It's been tested.'
His mother gave him a watery smile. 'An empty plane, yeah. Had anyone test the passengers? Can they survive?'
Tony chuckled gently. 'Sure they can,' he assured her.
Michelle turned back, smiling reassuringly. 'We're in no danger, Rita. Recent studies have shown that motion sickness comes from the eye's perception of motion rather than the actual motion itself. Shut your eyes and pretend you're on the rollercoaster!'
Tony stared at her in admiration. 'She's right, mom. You loved the rollercoaster, remember? We went all the time; I used to ride on your knees.'
His mother groaned faintly. 'That was a while ago, sweetheart,' she sighed.
'Only a coupla years,' Tony told her encouragingly. 'You loved it more than we did, I remember we already had enough and you insisted we all take one more ride, and Jane vomited all over the seat…'
He was rewarded by a watery smile. 'I remember.'
The storm continued, increasing in savagery as they crossed the Bay of Bengal, a stormy place at the best of times. An hour into it the lights went out, the blue emergency lights switching on immediately and the exit signs illuminated. Michelle's grip on his arm tightened. The next second the plane rose again and the lights switched on, only to go out the moment they fell back a few feet. 'You ok, sweetheart?' he asked, brushing a few stray curls from her face. She nodded, white faced. 'Shouldn't last more than another half hour,' he predicted. 'It'll calm down once we reach India.' She nodded and he sighed, unable to decide what sounded worse, the whining engines straining to full capacity or the wind that shrieked above it. Or was it the howls of the terrified young children behind him in third class?
'You know, I'm not convinced those studies on motion sickness were necessarily accurate,' Michelle admitted, her face unusually pale.
Tony sat up, lying her back against her chair. 'Keep your head back and close your eyes, sweetheart,' he advised. An unusually savage gust of wind grabbed the plane, tossing it like a toy - the shrieks from the back intensified and Michelle let out her first groan. 'Hey, honey, it won't be much longer,' he insisted, desperately hoping he was right. Risking a glance behind him he saw his father holding his mother. Their eyes met, his father raised his heavenward. Tony gave an almost imperceptible nod and settled back in his chair, praying for the storm to dissipate once they reached the subcontinent.
The wind's fury abated minimally once they made land, reduced to nothing more alarming that an occasional fall of a few feet. There was a mass exodus to the bathroom lines, Tony insisting they all take advantage of the break. 'Why, sweetheart? The storm's over,' his mother asked bravely.
He managed to smile back at her. 'Sure it is, mom.' We're heading into more of the same over the Himalayas Almeida, you can already feel it. After all, if it's rough in one place, it'll be rough in the other. It's been a northerly gale… He rose; unfastening his seatbelt, taking advantage of what he feared would be less than two hours of relatively calm weather. His weather forecasting was unfortunately accurate.Two hours after they entered Indian air space the wind picked up again and the seatbelt light clicked on. Once again the pilot's voice floated over the speakers, urging them all to return to their seats.
'Oh no, Marco, not again. I really can't do this again,' his mother begged, close to tears. 'I just can't. Why can't we land here, wait it out? Why attempt to cross the Himalayas in such a storm? It can't be safe! Why won't the pilot ask people if they really wanna risk their lives arriving on time, or if they'd prefer to wait a coupla hours?'
'It's his call, mom,' Tony told her, turning backwards to encourage her. 'He's in contact with the control towers; he's got the latest weather forecast. Besides, these mountain storms can last for weeks.'
'Why won't he take us a different way?' she wondered, struggling to keep her tears away.
'He can't, sweetheart,' her husband explained, squeezing her hand, just as reluctant to face another storm. 'Not all places are real friendly round here. Querida, it's only an hour or so over the mountains, then we're in Tajikistan and the storm will dissipate. We'll get through it.'
Tony sank lower into his seat as the plane began its now familiar roll. Outside, the engines revved up to full power again and they began climbing and falling, the lights cutting out as before. 'Reminds me of the time I took my first night parachute jump,' he said softly, twisting his wedding band round his finger. 'The weather was about the same as now, real crap all week, and the jump was cancelled night after night. One day someone decided they'd wait no longer as we were ready to be deployed and had not taken our first jump, so they dressed us up and took us up in a plane. We were all real nervous and our jump instructor didn't exactly show much confidence either. When we reached altitude they opened the door and the first few guys were pushed out. I just stood there, determined to jump by myself till I reached the door and saw nothin' under me except for clouds…Nothin' in my entire life filled me such dread as the order to jump…I really, really didn't wanna do it. Then the guy looked at me. "It's only a few clouds, Almeida. Just water vapor, it can't hurt you. Remember to pick a landing spot once you get through them, you won't have a great deal of time. Wind's pretty strong." He was right. The clouds were ice cold, I nearly froze through my suit, and the wind was so strong it blew me way off my chosen landing spot. In the end I came down on some highway, spraining my ankle and fracturing two fingers…They passed me anyway.'
'Oh sweetheart, that's awful,' his mother exclaimed, temporarily distracted from the full blown storm. 'How could anyone authorize such a jump? You tell me who it was…'
He laughed, noting Michelle looked as outraged as she did, knowing they would rip whichever officer authorized the jump apart between them, especially after his next sentence. Well, rage at the unknown officer would help distract them another few minutes. He took a deep breath and continued with his story. 'No one else landed near me. It was real dark and pouring with rain. I managed to crawl off the highway and unwrap myself from the parachute; I folded it up and sat by the side of the road, waiting to be picked up. My beacon must have got busted for it was never picked up… The rain increased, I was soaked through, my hand hurt like hell…sorry mom, and I would've set off walking if I could've found a stick to lean on, but it was much too dark to notice anything. I was there till dawn, when a local farmer picked me up in his tractor and took me back with him to his farmhouse and I called in my location. They gave me some dry clothes and insisted I eat breakfast while I was waiting. You know, they knew plenty about injuries. They bandaged my ankle and told me it would heal in a while but my fingers needed to be treated.' He smiled at the memory. 'And when the truck finally arrived to collect me the farmer's wife, this nice old lady scolded my captain as though he were a school kid.' His eyes lit up at the memory.
'As she should,' Michelle exclaimed, her face red. 'You could've been seriously injured, Tony, and they just abandoned you. What if you were stuck on some tree?'
He grinned at her, seeing his mother's face pale. 'Or get zapped on some electric wire,' he suggested. 'I was kinda worried about that last one, as I couldn't see anythin' on my way down.'
'That does it,' Michelle exclaimed. 'I might just take a look at some records…'
'Hey, I'm not authorizing that,' he reminded her. 'I'm just telling you it's a lot better to sit INSIDE a plane in a storm than try to jump off!'
The plane changed altitude, climbing higher over the mountain range, the cabin pressure increasing. The pilot explained he had spoken to Pakistani air traffic control and was given permission to climb, to avoid the worst of the storm, and he was aware it was a little uncomfortable for the passengers but to bear with him, it wouldn't last long. It was indeed calmer, though he could tell his mother and Michelle were struggling with headaches and it was a battle for him to walk down the aisle. The stewardesses moved down the aisle once again, handing out drinks. Michelle got two bottles of water, no longer trusting their assurances that the weather was clear for the remainder of the trip.
'Why don't you get some sleep, sweetheart?' he suggested, handing her a little chocolate.
'My head feels as though it will burst,' she complained, rubbing her forehead in a vain attempt to ease the pressure. 'I've just realized something. I'm not prime material for the space program!'
Tony chuckled, drawing her into his arms. 'You're doing great, sweetheart. Lemme tell you something. I don't think they'd pick me, either.' He hugged her, slipping his hand inside her sweater to withdraw her necklace. 'You're wearing it,' he noted, pleased. 'It looks better outside…'
The plane shook under an almighty blow, the explosion deafening them nanoseconds later. The lights went out for the final time, leaving the blue emergency lights pointing the way to the exit they were unable to use, an icy wind ripping through the cabin. His father's drawing sailed away before he could reach for it. A stewardess flew behind it, eyes wide with fear. Tony reached out and grabbed her leg, refusing to release it despite his arms straining against their sockets. Michelle slipped his oxygen mask over his face, enabling him to breathe and take note of his family, all of whom appeared safe in their seats. Using the remainder of his strength he pulled the stewardess towards him, pushing her into the seat before them and holding her until she secured herself. Smoke filled the cabin, the plane shook like a broken toy and they began their final descent.