Takeoff

Jennifer sat on the plane, iPod turned on, and her eyes closed. She had listened diligently to the emergency procedure spiel the flight attendant gave, and studied the card in the seat pocket in front of her. Now she sat, her knee bouncing slightly, and her hands washing each other in her lap. They were second in line for takeoff, and now all she could do was wait.

She did without the Xanax that usually accompanied her on airline trips, because she wanted to be all there when she got to LA. She still couldn’t believe she was moving in with Richie! And, if the hints he was leaving were right, he was going to ask her to marry him. She couldn’t wait to land.

The revving of the engines permeated through Richie’s voice singing Stranger, and she dialed up the iPod’s volume. The plane picked up speed, and Jennifer was thrown back against her seat. She made a small moan in her throat when she felt the plane lurch into the air, and gripped the hand rests like they were her lifeline. Her eyes squeezed firmly shut, and a tear trickled from the corner of one of them. She made a decision then. She wasn’t flying anymore. This was it. If she had to go back to Boston, she’d drive or take a cross-country train. No more planes. Her heart couldn’t take it.

Jennifer waited for the ear popping to tell her they had ascended high enough to level off. She frowned when it didn’t come. Suddenly, she felt the plane shudder. She opened her eyes, popped out her ear buds, and turned to the man sitting next to her. He had his eyes glued out the window, and she could see the reflection of his face and the look of terror etched there.

“The engines,” the man whispered. “Oh my God, the engines are smoking.”

Without conscious thought, Jennifer took out her blackberry, and dialed Richie’s cell. It went to voicemail, as it was only three in the morning where he was. “Baby, it’s me,” she said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. “We’ll probably laugh about this later, but something seems to be wrong with the engines, and I just wanted to tell you that I love you and whatever you wanted to ask me when you see me, the answer is a big ol’ YES!” She chuckled. “I’m gonna get yelled at by the stewardess if she sees me, so I gotta go. I love you more than my own life, Rich, and I can’t wait to see you. Bye!” She hurriedly turned off the device and put it back in her purse.

A loud bang sounded from outside the plane. Jennifer sobbed and tried to resist, but ultimately she couldn’t help it; she leaned over to look out the window. One of the engines on her wing was gone, and with it, a good chunk of the wing itself. The other engine was engulfed in flames. She stifled a scream, but didn’t do a good job of it, because the people on the other side of the plane started to panic.

The flight attendant made an announcement in a shaky voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some trouble with the aircraft. As a precaution, please put on your oxygen masks, stay in your seats, and try to stay calm.”

On cue, oxygen masks fell from the ceiling. With a frantic rustle of clothes, and loud, scared voices, the passengers began putting on their masks. One woman across the aisle and three seats up couldn’t get her mask on, and her voice was getting very shrill as she begged someone to help her. Jennifer’s hands were shaking when she pulled her own mask on over her nose and mouth, and she breathed the cool, sterile air deep into her lungs. The conversation on the plane was getting louder and louder, and the snatches of dialogue Jennifer heard made her wish she was deaf. The man next to her commented, “What the hell was she thinking? Stay calm. Doesn’t she know the worst thing you can do in an emergency is tell people to stay calm!” His voice rose with each word, so by the end he was shouting.

The plane took a sharp turn to starboard, and Jennifer screamed. Others did too. Children began crying, and the woman behind her started praying.

The man next to her tried to talk himself out of his fear. "It's okay,” he said; his voice muffled by the mask he wore. “I’m sure they can land the plane on just two engines."

Jennifer gave him a sickly smile, but still felt dread in the pit of her stomach. The plane continued to shudder, and the pilot couldn’t seem to get it to straighten out. Jennifer felt the plane start to roll. With tears streaming down her face, she watched out the window as the ground drew ever closer.

In what seemed to take an hour but was really only seconds, Jennifer’s life with Richie flashed before her eyes. She saw their meeting in Southampton, the first time they made love, taking day trips with Ava; being a real family. She also remembered the last time they made love, and cried harder when she realized it would truly be the last time. There would be no more quiet, seductive laughter in her ear. No more caresses from those long, strong fingers. No more magic kisses.

What hurt the most is that she wouldn’t ever know the joy of carrying Richie’s baby inside her. She would never feel his big hand over her distended abdomen, reveling in the joy of a tiny kick. The tears flowed more relentlessly when she reflected that she would never get motherhood advice from her own mother.

Her thoughts were jarred back to the present the instant the jagged edge of the wing hit the grass. The plane levered up and flipped upside down, hitting the ground with a crash that was heard for miles. That was the last thing Jennifer heard.