Any Direct Flight by Laura DeHaan

Whenever Carpenter had to fly, he always chose an aisle seat at the very back of the plane. He liked avoiding the worst of the crush from other passengers and since he preferred to fly direct he didn’t have to worry about making connecting flights.

He was mildly surprised to see his row’s window seat already occupied. Coming closer, he saw the passenger was a very old woman.

Oh, she must have gotten on during the ‘whoever needs extra time’ call, he thought. He swung his bag into the empty overhead compartment and asked the old woman, “Hey, do you need help with your luggage?”

“It’s all right, I don’t have any,” she said.

“Oh!” There wasn’t even a purse on her lap. Her only ornamentation was a grotesquely flashy ring on her right pointer finger. “Coming or going?”

She grinned. Her teeth were very straight and uniform. Carpenter ran his tongue over his own snaggleteeth and felt mildly jealous of her dentures. “Always going,” she said. “You?”

“Coming this time. From a business trip.” Out of courtesy, he said, “Would you be more comfortable in the aisle seat? It’s a five-hour flight…”

She winked. “No need. Adult diapers,” she said confidentially. “You know, I resisted them for a long time, but after that lady astronaut wore them on her cross-country kidnapping tour, I figured what the heck, they’re mainstream now.”

He blinked. “I’m not sure that’s how she’d want to be remembered.”

“It’s a more interesting legacy than living on through your kids. You got kids?”

“No.” He finally sat down. “My partner and I talked about it, but…nah. You?”

“I don’t believe in them. The idea that your immortality is tied to your children and your children’s children? Feh. I’ll make my own legacy, thank you.” Something caught her attention; she sat straighter in her seat and her eyes fairly twinkled. “Oh, that lady’s got a dog! Dogs I like. Are you a dog person?”

“They’re all right.” A Pekingese had bit him when he was five. He was not a dog person. “Do you have a dog?”

“No. I love them, but they don’t love me. Maybe they sense my lack of nurturing skills, eh?” She nudged him with a sharp elbow. “You and your young man stay childless. Get plants. You don’t have to change diapers on a plant. Or go for walkies.”

He was about to say, Oh, I’m not gay but, well, what difference did it make? It was a five-hour flight. He could be gay and love dogs for that long.

“Believe I’ll take a little nap,” she said. “Be a lamb and wake me when the attendants come with the snack cart, would you?”

“Sure,” he said, and she closed her eyes. After a moment, he did the same.

The trundling of the service carts woke him up. Groggily he patted the old woman’s hand. “Snacks incoming,” he yawned.

Her mouth was agape, her eyes unblinking.

“Ma’am?” He shook her shoulder. “Ma’am?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the flight is full. We can’t move you.” The flight attendant shook a blue in-flight blanket out of its plastic bag and draped it over the old woman. “There now, isn’t that comfy? Poor thing,” they said, and walked away.

Now most assuredly next to what was absolutely a corpse, Carpenter spent fifteen minutes hyperventilating before accepting the absurdity of the situation. Heck, it would be an interesting story to tell his partner when he got home. Truthfully he felt sorry for the old woman and wondered who she was going to meet. Someone close to her, if she didn’t need to pack a bag. Or (if the ring were any indication,) was she one of those rich eccentric types who bought everything they needed on the fly? He’d never know.

I didn’t even get her name, he thought. Impulsively, he reached under the blanket and held her cold hand. Who were you, anyway? His thumb rubbed across her ring, across and around, circling and diving…

The dog a few rows ahead was barking, he noted distantly, but it drowned out a crying baby, so that was all right. How could anything stand to make that much noise on a plane? It was so dry; his eyes were scratchy and his tongue felt thick like he’d left it sticking out overnight. Could you get me some water? he tried to say to a passing attendant, but they couldn’t hear him through the blue in-flight blanket, and the old woman was gently patting his hand.

As soon as the FASTEN SEATBELTS light blinked off, the lady with the toy Pomeranian bolted upright and bowed apologetically to the rest of the passengers as they gathered their belongings and prepared to disembark.

“I’m so sorry for the barking,” she said to each person as they lumbered past. Most of them smiled vaguely or ignored her, except for one man from the very back of the plane. He had one piece of luggage and a large ring on his pinky finger, which flashed grotesquely in the dimness of the cabin.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. His eyes fairly twinkled at the Pom. “I love dogs.”

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Laura DeHaan is very quiet and definitely not behind you. iaminyoureyebrain.com