04-17-06
on the plane late
this morning she warned us
she turned to the woman in Seat 1E sitting between us and
said she wasn’t a very good flyer
i turned away from squinting through the dirty circle window at
the orange vest people with their oversized orange ear muffs and the
luggage train and the wing and the de-icer. when
i looked at her she warned me that she doesn’t fly very well
then she turned to the flight attendants and warned them
that she had warned us
they should have just handed her the little cabin paging phone
so she could have announced it to the whole flight
load. the woman between us shared with me a
knowing glance of raised brow and one-side smile because there
we were: Seats 1F, 1E, and me.
when the engines start, the white haze
fills our ears and makes it easy to tune (the flight attendants’ seat-belt demonstration) right out.
every kid in the world must want to ride that luggage train.
it is so much like the one at the mall during the christmas shopping season. only
this one is better.
it has secret canvas flaps that hide the luggage from
rain and snow and wind and
people watching it from dirty circle windows. then the orange vest people
load the bags onto that inclined belt
that whisks the luggage away into the belly of the plane. every kid
in the world must want to hide in there.
“LAST TIME I DIDN’T TAKE MY PILL SOON ENOUGH”
“what?” it was like she had adjusted the rabbit ears on my tv set at the exact moment the station broke to used car commercial. i had been enjoying my haze.
“LAST TIME I WAITED TOO LONG TO TAKE MY PILL AND BY THE TIME WE LANDED THEY HAD TO WAKE ME UP. THEN I DROVE HOME.”
“Dramamine?”
“NO. XANAX”
“oh.”
the engines got louder. the brakes were released and we clunked into reverse.
“did you take it this time?”
“oh yes. ohhh yes.”
liftoff brought tears from Seat 1F, muffled smiles from Seat 1E, and sympathetic cooing from flight attendants.
then quickly and slowly at the same time, denver’s patchwork of winter-brown prairie subsided, replaced by the white noise of clouds. i
read a book
then i saw the trees! when we came down again through the clouds – and the river – could it be the mississippi?
then the rows of houses, tiny nested match-book covers stacked nearly on top of each other HO scale – complete with green felt lawns and jelly bean oldsmobiles and fords.
“the local time is 1:30 and it’s 50F. we’ll begin our descent into chicago in about 10 minutes”
the pilot barely broke
through the jet-powered “silence” but he broke
that Seat 1F’s Xanax haze.
that woman gasped as though tapped
on the shoulder by the frigid finger of death itself – popping
her beautiful barbiturate bubble. she sobbed
the whole way to the ground
the wheels barked and bounced
and Seat 1E released a sigh she’d held for 2 hours.
Posted by lortz 
Posted by lortz 
Posted by lortz 
