The Mystery of Flight 2222 Page 16

  Once at the Rio de Janeiro airport, there were more media than at their hotel in Natal. Thankfully, the police were there to separate them from the adoring press and other onlookers. They were hustled into the local stores along the busy walkways until each found the luggage they wanted and then on to the clothing stores, dodging the throng of people following them with the help of the police.

  At last, they were ushered into a large room far away from the maddening crowd where a lunch had been arranged and laid out for them. There was moqueca, a fish stew served in a clay pot, feijoada, coxinha, and a Gaucho rodizio, grilled meat off a skewer. An enticing pink drink, vitamina de abacate, was served. It was a blend of avocado, sugar, and milk. It was the same drink they’d originally had with the boss. The passengers had never eaten such a lunch and were absolutely ‘filled to the gills’ as Frank so plainly put it.

  When their flight was announced, the airline representatives gave them all first-class tickets, and arrangements had been made that they all be boarded first and given time to get settled before others were allowed on, even the other first-class customers.

  One by one they were welcomed on the plane by the airline crew and shown to their seats. Soo Mi and Yuto sat up front in the bulkhead seats on the right. Irving sat by himself behind them with a coat and tie on, a handkerchief in his coat pocket. Frank and Helen were in row three on the left. Frank offered Helen the window seat, but she turned it down. She sat after storing their belongings in the overhead bin.

  One of the attendants came over and asked if they wanted anything to drink. Helen shook her head and said, “No,” but Frank interrupted and ordered two Kaluhas and milk. Helen glanced quizzically over at him.

  “For old time’s sake.” Frank smiled.

  “With that enormous lunch and breakfast, I’m gonna go to sleep before we get off the ground with that Kaluha,” Helen said while yawning.

  “I know how you feel. I think this may be the first time I go to sleep quickly on a flight.”

  He rang the attendant bell and asked for blankets and pillows. She brought two pillows each. Both of them plumped up the pillows and threw the blankets over themselves, and as true to their word, they finally gave in to their exhaustion and started to fall asleep with their tray tables down as a red-haired attendant placed their drinks in front of them.

  ~~ ~~ ~~

  As they slept, other passengers boarded in the first-class area. One gray-haired woman with a plain, dark-gray dress, heavy brown stockings, and wide-heeled shoes wearing a 1930s type hat made her way to the seat in row two on the right. A very tall but huge, heavy-set man, who could just about make it down the aisle, was huffing and puffing from the long walk from the waiting area down the jetway to his seat next across from the old lady. Then a scraggly looking young man arrived dragging a large duffle bag and tried to place it in an overhead bin. It was obviously not large enough to accept the bag, but he was resolute in trying. Eventually, an attendant came and informed him that his bag would need to be checked. He balked, continued to try for a while, and finally gave in. The attendant removed the bag from the area. He stared at her with disdain as she left, then he sat, pulling his hoody over his dirty-looking hair.

  All passengers were soon boarded and seated. The usual safety video was shown on the screen of the Airbus 330 followed by the obligatory walk by of the attendants to be sure all seat belts had been fastened and all tray tables and seat backs were up.

  “Attendants, please prepare for take-off.”

  The usual silence in the cabin occurred with this statement.

  The 330 taxied onto the runway and made its way behind a jumbo 747. It was seventh in line to take off. Inside the cockpit, Captains Swanson, first officer Crenshaw, and second officer Hodges were performing their final check and recheck of all systems. Everything was right for take-off. The giant engines then raised their decibel levels to a high roaring pitch as the 330 increased speed down the runway to enter the evening sky. The last irregular clatter of the plane against the tarmac disappeared, the whirring of the landing gears entering their compartments with a clunk was heard, and a residual thrumming underneath finally stopped, allowing no more evidence of take-off but a calming hum, the only sound remaining in the cabin.

  ~~ ~~ ~~

  Helen and Frank had slept through the take-off, and both woke at the same time and were surprised to see the drinks in front of them. Frank thought it a bit creepy that his favorite drink was in front of him as well as the woman next to him, but, still feeling sleepy, he dismissed the thought and proceeded to imbibe with his seat partner. The ice in the Kaluhas had melted a bit, but both took sips from their glasses, eventually finishing them.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Flight 2222. We have now leveled off at thirty-seven thousand. Our flight time to New York will be ten hours and thirty-six minutes. The weather seems to be very nice for the first part of the trip, but after passing the equator, we may have some turbulence, possibly some mild stormy weather. This is not unusual on this run. We will keep you informed of our progress as we get nearer to our destination. Now, please sit back and enjoy your meals and entertainment. Thank you for flying Air USA.”

  Helen hung on every word. Frank noted her reaction and smiled at her.

  “A heck of a mouthful, eh?” Frank said.

  “Yeah, it’s hard to believe we are five miles above the earth.”

  “Actually, six-point-nine miles. And we are still breathing,” Frank jested.

  “Whatever. We’re really way up here, aren’t we?”

  “Yes. You know there is a group of people who believe that planes are not able to fly whatsoever?”

  “Really? How’s that?”

  “Well, they think there’s a movie being shown on a screen outside each window, giving the impression that one is flying, and somehow the plane is being juggled around and noises made to convince the passengers they are flying,” Frank replied.

  “You’re kidding me, right? What do they think when they are in another city when they land?”

  “I guess they haven’t figured that out yet.” He laughed.

  Helen let out a laugh, too, and seemed more relaxed in her seat. Frank ended the conversation and pulled out his newspaper. To be sure she was okay, he glanced over at her as she turned toward him.

  ~~ ~~ ~~

  “So, what brings you to Argentina?” he asked.

  “A family matter.”

  “Yeah, you got family there?”

  “So to speak. A death in the family,” she replied

  “Sorry to hear that. I’m Frank. You?”

  “Oh, Helen. Helen Hampton,” she said, turning toward him.

  “Hampton doesn’t sound Argentinian.”

  Helen clearly waited for him to continue on. Frank was speechless for a second or two, expecting her to speak. “Uh, Mason, Frank Mason,” he replied, somewhat embarrassed that he didn’t tell her his last name right away.

  “Doesn’t sound Spanish, either.” Helen giggled.

  They both laughed, and each took a sip from their cups.

  “Excuse my prying, but I can see you are a bit nervous on a plane,” Frank said.

  “That would be an understatement. I haven’t flown a lot, but I have flown, and it is always tough for me,” she answered.

  “Well, let me give you a few facts to allay your fears. First, flying is actually the safest mode of transportation. In fact, the odds of a plane crash are one for every one-point-two million flights, with odds of dying one in eleven million. Your chances of dying in a car or traffic accident are one in five thousand. Did you know a plane is safer than a train?”

  “My, my, you do know something about planes.”

  ~~ ~~ ~~

  “On another subject, I have a game I play on these long trips. It helps spend the time and challenges your thinking powers. Want to play along?”

  “Another bunch of plane trivia?

  “Nope!”

  “What’s
that then?” she asked.

  “I pick out seven people and try to figure how old they are, what nationality they are, what kind of job they have, what their names are and whether they are married or not, and anything else I can think of.”

  “Why seven?” she asked.

  “Gosh, I have no idea. It has always been seven, I guess. No reason.”

  “Okay, begin with jerko over there.” She laughed, pointing at the scraggly hippy.

  “Well, he is definitely single,” Frank blurted, almost spitting out his drink.

  Helen leaned forward in convulsive laughter, spilling her drink on her dress. Still chuckling, she wiped her skirt with her napkin. “Duh!” she finally whispered. “Don’t do that again. That was funny.”

  “Hey, it’s got to be true, right?”

  “Yup. What else?” she asked, becoming more excited about the game. “Of course, there could have been another flower child who was stupid enough to marry this wanker, and it lasted two or three weeks.”

  “Now you’re getting into the game. He’s probably part Greek and part Irish. He has to be a busboy somewhere. He can’t have the smarts to be anything but. Ah, let’s see. His name is…Homer,” Frank said, placing his thumb and index finger on his chin.

  “No way. He’s a Herbert. That’s why he is so angry. He’s had that hanging over him all his life. So he’s miserable. I think he’s a student. Probably all C’s in his junior year. Community college, though, works part time as a computer programmer. The other part is spent teeing people off,” she replied.

  “Really? A brain, has he? Come on! Let’s get real. Oh, we’re really close on this one,” Frank responded, raising his eyebrows. “This idiot has to be doing some cubicle job where he relates to no one but himself. He probably never communicates with real people in his job. His inner self is the center of his world. A hamburger flipper named, ah, okay, Homer!”

  “Well, I have to agree with you there. I’d like to smack him upside the head and straighten him out. Who’s next?” Helen asked, sitting up higher to choose someone.

  Her remark was somewhat surprising to Frank. He didn’t think she was so adamant about this jerk’s actions, but it was obvious she was much more turned off by them than he was, and he was really disgusted by him.

  “How about that gentleman with the coat and tie on, handkerchief in his coat pocket?” Frank suggested.

  “Oh, that’s too easy,” she said confidently.

  “Excuse me, what would you like for dinner? We are serving beef or chicken,” an attendant interrupted.

  She was a redhead with a short haircut, slender to the point of being skinny, but with a pleasant smile and manner about her. Frank noticed the name, Kimberly, on her brass tag pinned to her blue and white Air USA blouse.

  ~~ ~~ ~~

  “You rang?” another attendant asked. She was older and more seasoned than Kimberly. Her demeanor was all professional. No smile, no specific eye contact.

  “Please, two Kaluhas and milks on the rocks here.”

  “Sure, that will be twelve dollars. And I’ll be back in a minute with the drinks.”

  They sipped their drinks in silence, both of them checking out who they would choose next as their choice in Frank’s game. He continued to suck on the ice at the bottom of his glass container, trying to get every bit out of his six dollars as he watched the movie progress without sound.

  He turned and raised his head to scan the nearby passengers to begin the guessing game again but found Helen fast asleep, the headset cockeyed across her forehead.

  Sleep tight, little lady. Wish I could sleep on a flight. We can continue the game later.

  Frank stretched out his arms in front of him and suddenly was overcome by an enormous yawn. Evidently, all the excitement, food, alcohol, and the long day behind him would allow him to sleep on a plane for once. He leaned back, grabbed a pillow, drew the blanket up over him, and fell fast asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Everyone, fasten all seat belts, we have no left engine, we will need to ditch into the sea. FASTEN SEAT BELTS! ASSUME CRASH POSITIONS!” a voice bellowed over the intercom system.

  The attendants were scurrying up and down the aisle, awakening passengers who did not respond to the orders. Other passengers had been aware of the sudden explosive sound and subsequent severe rattling and tilting of the aircraft. Screams and audible, fearful voices were increasing in intensity as passengers grasped desperately at the seats in front of them, heads darting every which way to see what others were doing.

  “Helen, Frank, wake up. Be sure your seatbelts are on and tight,” Kimberly said to Frank. “We are having tremendous problems right now, be alert. Assume your crash positions. An engine’s on fire. We’re losing altitude, and we’re crash-landing into the sea.” Kimberly was shaking Helen and prodding Frank and forcefully speaking to them. “Hurry up!”

  ~~ ~~ ~~

  Frank’s sleep fog evaporated immediately, and they followed her instructions. As Frank leaned over, the early brim of the rising sun beamed through Frank’s window, illuminating Helen’s terrified face screaming without outward sounds.

  Frank sat upright in his seat, glanced at Helen as she was grabbing his right hand with her right hand, and trying to stuff her left hand into his belt. He loosened his belt so she could get a better hold and then tightened it through a natural instinct. As he peered above the seats in front of him, he saw the game players: Kimberly, Maxine, Otto, Homer, Soo Mi, Yuto, and Irving, all staring back at him with dejected déjà vu expressions on their faces.

  “Damn it! Here we go again. See you guys on the raft,” Frank shouted as they all fastened their seat belts, leaned over, and ducked their heads.

  Epilogue

  You can’t tell a book by its cover, and you can’t trust this author and his characters, either.

  You are now aware that Frank and Helen and their fellow survivors are caught in a repetitive dream of agony, death, cannibalism, fear, and temporary escapes only to be forced to live that same reverie again and again. What you may not realize is that they were specifically chosen to have their lives placed on hold while they continuously undergo the torment of this collective nightmare.

  You see, their dastardly behaviors of the past are the key to their miserable dilemma. Yes, even though they appear to be either normal or slightly dysfunctional people, they all have a very dark side—a life no one ever sees, a life unbeknownst to even their closest relative. It is for these purposeful and often evil indiscretions that these nine individuals have been chosen to endure the anguish of a repetitive, heinous, sleep adventure. They are being punished for their evil, deceptive, and often deranged actions against others and society.

  ~~ ~~ ~~

  Maxine has always presented herself as a matriarch, someone whose life has been spent serving others and obtaining a high stature wherever she went, but that is not the case. Maxine actually spent her life casting her ‘sweet’ demeanor in front of her as a shield to hide her inner hatred for the people around her. As a child, she was sweet, innocent, and unassuming, but as she grew into her teenage years, she found that there were much more rewarding ways to get what one wanted than being nice. She often stole small insignificant items from other students, not that she really wanted them, but she relished their sadness. She hoarded their items and used them as gifts to encourage the recipients to respect and love her.

  She hated being forced to take piano lessons, and, instead of quitting, she launched herself to becoming proficient at it, knowing full well she could use this talent to destroy others. She especially loved to excite young aspiring pianists by building up their confidence and then tearing them down just when they thought they had succeeded. She would do so in the most innocent and seemingly benevolent ways, usually by overextending their abilities through advanced music for which they were never ready, all the while spurring on her intense dislike and jealousy for the children. The parents ultimately felt the fault was with their child’
s incompetence, not their teacher.

  She honed her skills as a teenager and in her young adult years, and as she saw her own success, others suffered. These successes emboldened her even more when she applied for jobs where she could embezzle large amounts of money, hoard the cash, and then launder it so no one was the wiser. She was so good at it, no agency she worked for ever suspected this ‘sweet’ woman as a deplorable employee. Once she felt she was close to being identified, she would promptly offer an excuse to tender her resignation and find employment elsewhere. Her previous employer would always write a glowing referral letter for her, a fact that amused Maxine tremendously.

  She had stolen from multiple companies and organizations, and, in fact, created a large nest egg for her retirement, but her thirst for her criminal activities drove her to distraction. She just had to shoplift, stealthily abscond with her friends’ credit cards, and scam others on the internet. It was a nasty habit, but it had become an exciting part of her existence, and she couldn’t live without ruining someone’s day or life.

  She eventually sought a small town to live out her days. She was the resident piano teacher and church-goer who everyone adored. She was asked to participate on their school board, and with the knowledge of accounting, to be responsible for their books. She reveled in being appointed to the church and school board’s accounting positions since there was no one else to whom she was accountable. She was quite comfortable financially before moving to this town, so her embezzlements were small and almost imperceptible. This was the way she wanted it. She had been diagnosed with cancer that had spread and didn’t have the mental or physical energy to put into planning new strategies. She dreaded intravenous chemotherapy and the sickness it created. She opted for oral medications because she wasn’t in terrible pain. When it dawned on her that her life was to be over soon, she thought she would take one of the few vacations she’d ever had, to Argentina. Why Argentina? She did not know so she made up a reason.