Our buddy Tobias has successfully passed Notebook #59 along to his friend Amy. He wrote the following short story and added it to the notebook:
Air by Tobias Sellier
“I’ve never been on a plane before.”
Ames Aldon was not being honest. He had—in fact—been on a plane before. In fact, he had been on many. For years his line of work had been sending him all over the country. He took the 7 a.m. flight from DCA to O’Hare—the very flight that he was sitting on—at least once a month. But as the plane pushed back from the gate, he felt a strange compulsion to say something untrue and slightly inflammatory to the unassuming woman sitting next to him.
“Oh, my. This must be exciting for you.” The woman had fair skin and grayish blonde hair. The reading glasses perched on her head and the sweater draped around her neck gave her a grade school librarian look. Her inflection was unmistakably Midwestern.
“It is exciting. But, I have to say that I’m a bit nervous too.” Ames gripped his armrest tightly with one hand and—with the other—pulled the safety card out of his seatback pocket, examined both sides of it, and put it back in its place. “Do you fly often?” he asked.
“A few times a year. I was actually just visiting my son for the weekend. He lives in Virginia. We headed out to the…”
“I don’t have a son. I don’t have children at all. I don’t even have a wife—at least not anymore.”
The woman nodded politely and pulled the bookmark out of the thick pastel-colored book that rested in her lap.
“She actually died in a fire crash.”
The woman perked up and looked at Ames, “Oh, no. That’s terrible. A fire crash?”
“Yes. A car crash and a fire. The car caught on fire and she was in there so… You know… Burned up.”
“That’s just terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Thanks. It’s tough, you know?”
“I can only imagine.” The woman returned to her book.
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, looks like we’re next up for departure. Cabin crew, please prepare for takeoff.”
“Oh, my god,” Ames shifted in his seat and then stiffened up and pushed his back flush up against his seat, “Here we go, huh?”
“Yup. Here we go.”
“Do the engines always get this loud?” Ames almost shouted as the plane picked up speed.
“Yup. Totally normal.” The woman rested her hand briefly on Ames’s wrist.
As the plane lifted off the ground, Ames let out a giant sigh and swallowed hard. He was surprising himself with his dedication to this routine, and he felt both an odd sense of satisfaction and an urge to push things a bit further.
He peered out the window for a bit, whispering audibly about the tiny houses and cars.
“You know. I’ve never tried V-8 before, but since I seem to be in the business of doing things for the first time today, I think I might.”
The woman smiled politely as she continued reading.
Ames shifted toward the woman. “So you said your son died in a fire crash?”
The woman quickly looked up from her book, “I did not. I said I was visiting him for the weekend in Virginia. You said your wife died in a fire crash. I’m not even familiar with that expression.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you said your son…”
“My son is just fine.”
Ames again pulled the safety card back out of the seatback pocket and examined it for a few seconds before putting it back. “What does your son do?”
She quickly closed her book into her lap and sighed a little, “He works on Capitol Hill for Congressman Mark Kirk.”
“Mark Kirk?”
“Yes.”
“You sure he’s a congressman?”
“Yes, I am. He’s my congressman.”
“Interesting. I’ve never heard of him.”
“Well, there are a lot of congressmen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to my book.”
“Absolutely. Do you know how long this flight is? I think they said six hours.”
The woman didn’t even look up. “That sounds right.”
twbyyparnevdcajlavds, space heater, YTfopWm.