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Something to do with a Pilot

Nora McDonald

    “I’m having nothing to do with pilots!” said Van.
    Josie laughed.
    She’d only said, “That First Officer is quite a dish! Don’t you think so?”
    She hadn’t expected such a vehement reply.
    “You might find that a little difficult in our job,” she said pointing at her flight attendant’s uniform. “They’re the only men we ever see!”
    “Or men either!” said Van, thinking of her last conversation with Frank.
    Last being the defining word.
    “They’re all totally selfish and after one thing only!”
    “My my, we are having a bad day, aren’t we?” teased Jodie. “I gather it’s all off with lover boy.”
    Jodie didn’t need a reply. She could see the distress in Van’s face.
    “Well, in my opinion, he wasn’t right for you anyway,” said Josie. “You’re well shot of him!”
    She paused.
    “Now that first officer?” she persisted. “Maybe you should review your opinion of pilots.”
    “He wears a ring,” said Van. “Not that stops any of them,” she added.
    “Do I detect a note of bitterness?” said Jodie.
    “Tiredness,” said Van. “Actually, I’m thinking of giving up the job. I’m tired of the lack of rest time, the poor pay and the forking out for food bills in four and five star hotels. Sure we’re in exotic places but when we don’t even get time to eat, sleep or explore those places, what’s the point? Our health is run down to the point we’re off sick and when we are we’re subjected to corporate bullying and intimidation even though we’ve got a doctor’s line. Only last week I was called in to a meeting with my manager and told I was in the process! If I hadn’t had my union rep there with me, I think the bullying would have been successful. All in the name of profit and greed with no thought for people. And then there’s the danger involved,” Van went on. “Terrorism, turbulent weather patterns and quick turnarounds compromising safety.”
    “Any more good news?” laughed Josie.
    “Sorry, I’m just on a downer,” apologised Van. “Disillusioned with men and the job.”
    “By the time you get to 36,000 feet, you’ll be so busy, you won’t have time to be disillusioned,” laughed Josie.
    Van smiled for the first time. She was glad Josie was on her flight. She could always be relied on to be a good laugh.
    They were working down the back. The flight didn’t look too busy so the trolley service took a shorter time than usual. Van was just about to try and grab something to eat to maintain her energy when she noticed the lit up call bell.
    “I’ll get it,” she told Josie.
    She hadn’t noticed him before. And yet how could she have missed him? His pilot’s uniform was glaringly obvious.
    “Hi,” she said. “Are you positioning back?”
    “You could say my position is back,” he said enigmatically.
    The odd way he’d expressed himself made Van pay closer attention to him. He must have been about her age. Thirty five or so she thought. Smart, like all pilots were, with brown eyes that held a strange, searching gaze.
    Steady, Van, she rebuked herself. Check out the hand. And remember he’s a pilot.
    There was no ring on the third finger of the left hand. Van reminded herself to be professional.
    “Can I get you anything?” she said.
    “I think I’ve already got it,” he said, meeting her look with a steady gaze that belied the flirty words.
    Normally annoyed by flirtation, nevertheless, his words caused a faint fluttering..
    “Well, if you decide you want anything else, just ring the call bell and we’ll do our best to accommodate you,” she said.
    He didn’t ring again and when Van passed his seat next time she noticed it was empty.
    The flight was coming into land and the passengers were beginning to disembark. It was only after the last passenger had got off the plane that she found time to say to Josie.
    “Did you see him get off?” she said. “The pilot in 36A.”
    “Pilot in 36A?” repeated Josie, looking at her strangely.
    “Positioning back,” said Van.
    Josie looked as if she was going to say something then shook her head instead and by the time they’d caught the crew bus and made it to the hotel, both of them had forgotten all about it and headed straight off to sleep.
    Pick-up was early the next morning for the flight back to the U.K. Luckily again the flight was quiet. Van was glad. She was tired. She hadn’t slept much due to the jet lag and time difference.
    It was only towards the end of the flight that she noticed him.
    Why didn’t I spot him before when we did the cabin service? she thought.
    He was in 4F. The seats beside him were empty. He looked immaculate. Not like her.
    “Change of plan?” she said.
    “The only thing you can rely on in this life is change,” he laughed. “We just need to learn to deal with it. You seem to be doing all right with it,” he added, with an openly admiring glance.
    Van wondered why she didn’t resent it.
    “Not really,” she said. “I’m exhausted. It’s been one trip too many with a quick turnaround. I’m actually thinking of giving up the job.”
    She couldn’t figure out why she’d told him. After all he was a complete stranger.
    “I wouldn’t do that,” he said, surprising her. “You’ll miss it. I’ve watched you with the passengers. You care and you have so much to give. You really make a difference. And that’s what’s important in this life.”
    “Well, I don’t think I’ll be caring tomorrow or have anything to give,” Van laughed. “Believe it or not I’m back on this flight again. There and back. No rest this time.”
    “What you need is a break off this aircraft,” he said. “Take my advice. Go sick tomorrow. You need the rest. And tell your friend to do the same. She looks as if she needs a break too. Don’t feel guilty. Sometimes you have to take your life into your own hands. And ignore those who put profit and greed before the welfare of their crew. That way you can live to fly another day. Do that and I can look forward to seeing you again perhaps.”
    “What a nice guy!” thought Van. Unselfish. Full of consideration for someone else. And apart from the feeble flirtation, no innuendo.
    Maybe she’d misjudged men.
    “Besides which,” he laughed. “My plane is tired too!”
    “Your plane?” queried Van.
    “Yes, they’re working her too hard. I always think of this type of plane as mine. We have a long standing relationship.”
    “Is that the only relationship you have?” said Van, cheekily.
    He stared at her and she thought she recognised regret in his eyes.
    “I’d like another kind,” he said. “But some things are not possible.”
    “You don’t know till you’ve tried,” replied Van.
    “Maybe this is me trying,” he said.
    Van felt the heat flood her face and her heart quicken.
    “I’m going to give him my number,” she told Josie in the galley. “The pilot in 4F.”
    “4F?” repeated Josie.
    “Yes. And I’m going to take his advice.”
    “His advice?”
    What’s wrong with Josie? thought Van. She’s like a parrot. And no sign of a smile.
    “I’m going to call in sick tomorrow. I’m exhausted. He said you should too!”
    Josie looked at her.
    “I think that might be a good idea for you,” she said. “I think you need a break. But there’s no way I’m calling in sick. I need the money to pay the mortgage.”
    There was no persuading Josie otherwise. Van knew that from the steely glint in her eye. She didn’t even bother trying.
    Early next morning Van called in sick. She knew it would probably cause her more problems later but it was all she could manage to drag herself out of bed and make it to the telephone. She went straight back to bed afterwards and didn’t get up till late afternoon.
    She turned the television on and went to make herself some tea and toast. The news was on.
    Something about an aircraft. She dashed through to the living room. She always did when there was airline news. There was a picture of a plane nose down in a river.
    It was a company plane.
    Oh, my God, thought Van. I hope there’s no one I know on board.
    Then she heard the newsreader’s voice.
    “Flight 101 was on its way————————.”
    Van heard no more.
    Oh, my God. It’s my flight. The flight I should have been on! she thought.
    And then a worse thought hit her.
    Josie. Josie was on that flight.
    She tried to tune in to the newsreader’s voice.
    “—————————————————-no survivors.”
    No survivors!
    Josie! Cheerful, chirpy Josie! Her friend, Josie. Dead?
    She dropped the toast she had been about to eat, rushed upstairs and began to throw her clothes on. She had to go to the airport. She had to go straightaway. But as she was getting dressed the phone on her bedside table rang.
    Damn! She hadn’t time to answer that!
    But what if it was something to do with the accident?
    She picked up the receiver.
    “Van! Did you hear the news?”
    It was Josie’s voice. Josie! Josie wasn’t dead!
    “Josie! You’re all right! You weren’t on the flight!”
    “No.”
    Josie’s voice was sombre.
    “I was going to be. I’d made up my mind I was. But, Van, I had the strangest dream. A pilot appeared to me and told me not to take the flight.”
    “A pilot?” said Van, trying to quench a queasy feeling that had started to grip her. “Did you recognise him?”
    “No, that’s the funny thing. I’d never seen him before in my life. And then I remembered what you’d said about the pilot on the plane. The one you saw in 36A going and 4F coming back. Van, there was no one in those seats! I thought you were cracking up with overwork and no rest time. That’s why I told you to take the time off!”
    “What do you mean? No one in those seats! I saw him! I spoke to him!”
    “What did he look like?” said Josie.
    “About thirty five. Brown eyes. Brown hair. Serious expresssion but good looking,” added Van.
    “Oh, my God. That sounds like the pilot in my dream. And, Van, he said something really atrange. He said his plane was tired.”
    “Oh, my God, that’s him! That’s what he said to me!”
    “Van, he said something else.”
    Van waited.
    “He said he was tired, like he’d been when his plane had crashed!”
    There was silence for a second then Josie went on.
    “Van, I don’t think he’s alive. I think he’s dead.”
    “You mean he was on the flight that went down?” said Van, too much flying fogging her brain.
    “No, Van,” said Josie, gently. “I think you saw a ghost.”
    “A ghost? You mean he wasn’t real?” said Van, incredulously.
    “He was real when he was alive,” said Josie. “I know that because of what else he said.”
    “What else?” said Van.
    “He said he regretted being selfish when he was alive and treating other crew badly, particularly women. Now he can’t rest until he’s put that to right.”
    “Do you think we’ll see him again?” said Van, her voice choking with emotion.
    “I hope so,” said Josie. “After all, he saved our lives. I only wish he could have saved everyone but maybe that was beyond even his power,” added Josie sombrely.
    “Saved our lives for what?” said Van, morosely.
    What did it all mean?
    Suddenly the pilot’s words came back to her.
    “You care and have so much to give. You really make a difference. And that’s what’s important in this life.”
    Maybe he was right. She shouldn’t give up her job. She would miss it. Like all those in the Hudson River would. But they didn’t have a chance to go on. She had. She knew deep down that they would all be depending on her. To care. To give. To make a difference.
    Like he did.
    And she wasn’t going to let any of them down. She owed that to them all.
    She’d been wrong about the job. And she’d been wrong about men. They weren’t all selfish and after one thing. She knew that now.
    She wouldn’t let the pressures of the job or the weaknesses of some men colour her attitude ever again. She’d keep an open mind about both.
    And in the future she’d remember what was important.
    She thought of him and his plane. A long standing relationship. The only kind possible. However hard he tried.
    She only had one regret.
    And it mirrored his.
    She’d never have something to do with a pilot.

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