One more time down the aisle checking to make sure the passengers had their seat belts fastened. She turned off the dome lights and switched on the night-lights. Most passengers kept their reading lights on, except for the ones who were already asleep or planning to be asleep.
Gaby didn’t like sitting in the rear jump seat, facing away from the passengers. She preferred to keep an eye on them. But rules were rules, and she strapped herself in for takeoff. The wheels of the four-engine DC-6 lifted off at 12:18 a.m., carrying fifty-nine passengers, a crew of four, and 2,953 pounds of mail, baggage and air-freight parcels.
The plane climbed to what she thought was 1,000 feet or less. One of the engines didn’t sound right. Gaby had been on other flights where engines had conked out but this was different. It made a horrible sputtering sound. She couldn’t be sure but it might have been two engines, because besides the sputtering noise, she heard what sounded like firecrackers. The plane dropped one hundred feet, and with it her stomach. The captain put full force on the power but the plane kept losing altitude.
Right then, she knew they would crash.
Christina
Christina rested her head on Jack’s shoulder as he drove her home. She was already late, half an hour past curfew. She’d better have a good story ready for Mama. She’d tell her there was an accident on the road and she and her friends were stuck in traffic, waiting for the tow truck to remove the cars. She was never late coming home without calling to explain, so she hoped Mama would give her some leeway. How could she call when she was stuck on Newark Avenue? she’d say.
She felt herself drifting off when, suddenly, a big silver ship sailed by so low she swore she could see inside, swore she could see the passengers, their faces pressed against the windows. She wasn’t sure at first if she was dreaming. She hoped she was dreaming. But no—she was wide-awake now, pointing to the sky as Jack swerved to the side of the road. The noise was thunderous. “What is it?” Her voice sounded as if it was coming from far away. And why was she asking, anyway? She already knew. She’d seen it before.
Jack shouted, “It’s going down.” He revved up the engine, and followed the plane’s path, which seemed to be heading for Westminster. “Jesus!” he cried, nearing Janet Memorial, as the plane fell from the sky. “Mason!”
Natalie
Nurse K had dozed off but not Natalie. She was looking out the window when something flashed in the sky. “What was that?”
“What?” Nurse K asked, awakening.
“In the sky. Didn’t you see it?”
“No, dear. Now turn away from the window. Concentrate on something warm and beautiful. Do you like the beach?”
“Yes. I love going down the shore.”
“Close your eyes and pretend that’s where you are. Can you feel the warm sand under your feet?”
“Yes.”
“And the sun on your back?”
“Yes.”
“Dip your toes in the ocean. The water is very warm today.”
“Should I swim?”
“Only if you want to. Only if the ocean is where you’d like to be.”
Phil Stein
Phil was walking Fred before hitting the sack. School tomorrow, then a day off for Lincoln’s birthday. Usually when he kept Fred overnight Fred did his stuff, and that was it until morning. But tonight Fred broke away, dragging his leash behind him, racing in and out of hedges. Phil chased him, catching glimpses of his red and yellow doggie sweater, as Fred jumped over low shrubs, scooting in and out of yards. What was wrong with that dog? “Damn it, Fred! Come back here.” Phil heard a terrible noise, so loud his hands went to his ears. He looked up and saw a plane. Not again, please, God, not again. A loud explosion. The flames shot up. What are you doing to us, God? “Fred…Fred!” Phil cried, terrified that he’d lost the dog, terrified of what was happening. All at once the neighbors were out of their houses, coats thrown over their nightgowns and pajamas. Everyone was running, running toward the burning, mangled mess. He caught a glimpse of his parents. Until then he’d never seen his mother run. Didn’t know she could. He gave one more anguished cry. “Fred!”
Miri
Miri awakened to the sound of thunder, but thunder in February? She ran into Rusty’s room, gently shook her. “Mom…did you hear that? What was it?”
“What?” Rusty said, taking off her sleep mask, pulling out her earplugs. “Hear what?”
“I don’t know. It sounded like thunder.”
“It’s nothing, honey. Go back to sleep.”
Miri padded down the hall to her bedroom, telling herself it was nothing. She was safe, Rusty and Irene and Uncle Henry were safe. Mason was safe. Safe from his crazy father, who’d chased him with an ax. At the sound of a car starting up, Miri pulled back the curtain of her front window in time to see Henry peeling out of the driveway, taking the corner so fast he skidded, the tires screeching. Something wasn’t right. She felt it in her gut.
She picked up the kaleidoscope from the top of her dresser and got back into bed, holding it first to her right eye, then to her left. Was there a difference? Not really. It was beautiful and calming either way.