Skid

by Rene Gutteridge

  Well, it wasn’t going to be her.

  But as Hank continued to talk about who she was created to be, irony chased every thought. She’d not only been rejected by her boyfriend, but rejected by a guy she asked to simply pose as her boyfriend. There were no commitment issues, nothing more to do than continue what he was doing, with perhaps a quick handhold if Jeff stood up and glanced over, or maybe a walk together back to the bathroom.

  Instead he’d said, “Lucy, my faking it as your boyfriend isn’t going to make you feel any better.”

  Sure it would. It definitely couldn’t make her feel worse. She was almost certain it would make her feel really great.

  “Lucy,” he continued, and she tried to pay more attention to him, “you’re a beautiful, intelligent, warm, and interesting woman.” But. “You don’t need me to pose as your boyfriend. Let’s leave that kind of role-playing to the undercover police.” Huh? “Jeff brought along this woman so soon after his breakup because of his insecurities. He feels like he needs someone to make him a complete person. But you know that’s not true.”

  The Secret was not holding up its end of the bargain. She’d envisioned—with complete clarity and resolve—Hank’s changing his mind, but so far he hadn’t. Instead, he picked up the Airfone.

  “You’re calling someone?”

  “I’m going to call Cassie.” He took out his credit card and swiped it.

  “Who?”

  “My sister. She knows stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “Your predicament. Out of all of us Hazards, Cassie knows about things like this the best.” He concentrated on dialing the number.

  Lucy wanted to point out that it wouldn’t be nearly as difficult a predicament if he would just pose as her boyfriend for the rest of the flight.

  “Cassie, hi! It’s Hank! You won’t believe where I am. An airplane… I know… Yeah, for that job I got… No, I still don’t have a cell phone. It’s this phone they have on the airplane. You put your credit card in, and you can make a phone call while you’re over the ocean!… I know, isn’t that cool?” Hank glanced at Lucy and smiled.

  She tried to smile back, but the dude to her left was distracting her by spying on them while pretending to read.

  “Well, listen, I’ve got a question for you. I’ve got a friend here named Lucy and she’s in a predicament.”

  With a capital P, Lucy added silently.

  “She and her boyfriend broke up… Um, I don’t know, hold on.” Hank looked at Lucy. “How long ago?”

  “Six weeks,” Lucy whispered. It was really three, but she didn’t want to sound pathetic. “Can you keep your voice down?”

  Hank nodded. “Six weeks ago… Yeah, she’s holding up fine. I mean, looking at her, you’d never know her heart was broken.”

  “It’s not broken,” Lucy said. “It’s intact, but slightly…vulnerable. In a good way vulnerable. The kind of vulnerable that allows you to grow and—”

  “But here’s the hard part. Her ex-boyfriend is on this flight with a new girlfriend, taking a vacation that he and Lucy were supposed to go on together.”

  “Can you keep your voice down?”

  “Sorry,” Hank whispered.

  “You bet he’s sorry!” Lucy heard the female’s voice rage over the phone.

  “Cassie, calm down.”

  Lucy couldn’t hear everything Cassie said, but it definitely qualified as a rant.

  “Yes, she’s sitting right beside me,” Hank said. “Why?”

  Lucy held her breath.

  “Well, yeah, she asked. But Cassie, we both know that…” Hank sighed and glanced at Lucy with a small smile. “I know, but… I don’t think she… Okay, hold on.” Hank held out the phone. “Cassie wants to talk to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Hank didn’t answer, just pushed the phone closer to her and shrugged like there was nothing more he could do. Lucy tentatively reached for it and put it against her ear.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  “Hi,” came the voice on the other end of the phone. Peppy. Friendly. Definitely some positive energy flowing. Lucy relaxed.

  “Hello.”

  “I’m Cassie, Hank’s sister.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, I can’t believe you’re in this situation. Unbelievable. The nerve of that guy!”

  Lucy smiled. She liked this vibe.

  “Have you prayed for him?” Cassie asked.

  Lucy stopped smiling. “Um, I don’t believe in Go—”

  “He doesn’t deserve it, but you should. The last thing you want is to have him chained to your conscience for the rest of your life because of bitterness. You have to forgive him or he’ll be like a brick wall stopping you from ever finding true happiness.”

  That was true enough. Maybe that’s why she felt so much negative energy around her. That and the guy to her left.

  “Uh-huh,” she said.

  “Okay, so first things first, Lucy. We’re going to pray.”

  “But I’m not a—”

  “Believe me, neither am I. Out of my entire family, I’m the least spiritual. I was born with a love for mascara that to this day cannot be explained. But God doesn’t care how eloquent we are. He’s listening and ready and willing to help us, okay? So, let’s just go before our Father now, and, God, we ask that You help Lucy. She’s in a horrible spot right now. She loved this man, and to see him with another woman is breaking her heart, Lord. I pray in the name of Jesus that this man would suffer for the way he’s made Lucy feel. I pray that he would be humiliated. Embarrassed. Realize what a horrible mistake he’s made by letting this precious woman go.”

  There was a long silence. Lucy leaned forward, gripping the phone, straining to hear what would happen to Jeff next. Then a sigh blasted Lucy’s ear.

  “I’m sorry, Father. Obviously, we need to forgive him. I know that. I am sorry. That is no way to start out forgiving someone. Lucy, I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m not great at this sometimes. I pray, Lord, that You would help Lucy forgive him from the bottom of her heart. I pray that she would know that even though this man hurt her, You never will. Help her cling to Your love, Lord, and allow You to mend what has been broken. You love Lucy with all Your heart. May she feel that love every day. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  Lucy held her breath.

  “In the meantime,” Cassie continued, “I don’t see why we can’t make this putz believe you’re with Hank.” Lucy let out a nervous laugh.

  “Look, you’re trapped on an airplane with your ex and his new girlfriend. Sometimes you have to go into survival mode. Don’t do it out of anger. It’s not vengeful. It’s just practical, until you can get your feet on the ground and get to a safe place.”

  Lucy smiled. She liked this woman. “That’s a great idea, but I don’t think your brother’s going to go for it.”

  “He’s shy. I’ve been trying for years to get him to come out of his shell. Women like him, but he doesn’t see himself as the dating type.”

  “Well, he thought I shouldn’t try to fill a void by pretending we’re together.”

  “Oh, brother. Let me talk to him.”

  “Okay.” Lucy handed Hank the phone.

  Hank concentrated hard. “Uh-huh… Uh-huh… Yeah… Oh, I see your point… True… Well, see, that’s why I called you. You’re an expert… Okay, I’ll tell her… No, I promise, I won’t forget… Okay, thanks, Cassie. I’ll call you when I return… Okay, bye.”

  “What’d she say?” Lucy asked.

  “We met at church, both love traveling, have been seeing each other for two weeks, and will be staying in separate hotel rooms.”

  “Oh…um, anything else?”

  “That you should get yourself to the bathroom pronto, gloss your lips, and put on two coats of mascara. Don’t forget the bottom lid.”

  Chapter 18

  Everyone’s doing fine,” Danny announced, settling into the jump sea
t opposite the ACI.

  When James returned, the captain had sent Danny to check on the passengers. Anna Sue thought she felt the wings tip, but he reassured her. Chucky still slept peacefully with his head on her lap. According to GiGi, their prisoner was freaked out by dead bodies, but awed by the breakfast served and happily engaged in his breakfast burrito and toast. Mrs. Kilpatrick had finally fallen asleep. Danny paused, making certain she really slept. Her chest rose and lowered slowly but steadily. The man with the stomach problem appeared to be feeling better as he wolfed down a fruit cup.

  It would be time for the captain’s break soon. Danny wondered if she’d discussed Bermuda with James. He wasn’t about to inquire. As far as he was concerned, if nobody spoke for the rest of the flight, he’d be perfectly happy—

  “I’d like to see the manifest.”

  Danny looked at the ACI. “The manifest?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Danny glanced at James, the captain, and then back to Mr. Smilt. “Why?”

  “Protocol.”

  “Protocol?”

  “I don’t know,” Smilt mumbled. “Something in a memo. Hand it over, please.”

  “But…”

  “Look, I don’t want excuses, okay? There’s a lot of weird stuff happening on this flight. You’re flying on thin ice as it is.”

  “Or skating on thin air,” James smiled.

  “What do you need the manifest for?” the captain asked.

  “It’s protocol.”

  “As you well know, the pilots don’t keep the manifest. The flight attendants do, if there’s one at all.”

  The ACI appeared frazzled as he waved his pen. “I know. I know that. I meant that. I’m just…” He looked around the cockpit. “I’ve been off the job awhile. I went to the Mayo Clinic, you know, for the hiccups. So this is my first day back, and I just need some time to get adjusted.” He stood, making Danny flinch for some reason. “I’m going to inspect the rest of the plane.”

  Another round of glances.

  “Why would an ACI inspect the cabin?” James asked.

  Smilt clutched his clipboard and swiped his hand over his forehead. “I just need some fresh air. And to use the bathroom. Stretch my legs.”

  The captain turned around in her seat. “Of course, Mr. Smilt. Please don’t hesitate. Take all the time you need.”

  The edge to his expression softened, and he adjusted his tie. “Thank you. I’ll return.” He left the cockpit.

  “I think the man is in the middle of falling off the wagon,” James said.

  “Something’s off with him,” Danny agreed.

  “He’s probably sneaking into the bathroom for a drink of the devil’s draft. If he comes back chewing gum and smothered in cologne, I think it’s safe to assume we’re dealing with some heavy sin,” James said.

  “Otherwise known as an addiction,” Danny said with a hard glare.

  “If you need to confess that, feel free,” James said. “An addiction is an addiction.”

  “And to what, exactly, am I addicted?”

  “Women.”

  Don’t engage. Don’t engage. Don’t eng—“Because I lived with one, you’ve concluded I’m addicted?”

  “One. Fifty. It’s all the same in God’s eyes. Why, after six years, did you not marry her?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “Fair enough. When I travel overseas, my wife’s never worried I’m going to be with someone else. That’s what it takes to remain pure. And I’ve had plenty of opportunities. You know how it is. Women see these stripes on your shoulder and turn into complete Delilahs. But if you don’t have enough self-control not to have sex with a woman before you marry her, then how can you expect to have self-control at a bar? Or…perhaps in a casino?”

  Danny ground his teeth together. “Maybe I don’t have enough self-control to keep from punching you in the face.”

  “You’re totally proving my point. Be my guest. I’m sure the ACI would love something to write up.”

  “You two, knock it off,” the captain said. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “GiGi, we need you at the front. Um, now.” Sandy’s voice crackled through the phone.

  Touching each seat as she passed by, GiGi swiftly made her way to the front galley. “Sandy, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s the ACI. He’s walking around the cabin.”

  “So?”

  “Checking things.”

  “Checking things?”

  Sandy nodded, leaning backward to get a glimpse down the aisle. “He was in here checking the drawers, the door, the coat closet. I mean…?” Sandy’s baffled expression picked up where her voice trailed off.

  “What did he say?” GiGi asked.

  “Well, first he used the bathroom. Then he came out and stared at me. Like, stared. Then he asked me some stupid question about the coffee maker and how many degrees Fahrenheit it boiled the coffee to. I explained the coffee isn’t boiled, just heated, and he asked if the overhead bins were up to federal standards. I don’t even know what he’s talking about.”

  “Where is he?”

  Sandy leaned backward for another look. “He’s checking the bathroom doors in the midcabin to…see if they open? What the heck is he doing?”

  “I’ll handle it. What’s his name?”

  “He introduced himself as Mr. Smilt, like that should mean something to me.”

  GiGi hit the aisle and stomped aft. This was the last thing she needed today. She found the ACI also walking toward the back of the airplane and tapped him on the shoulder. “May I see you for a moment?”

  A hint of surprise passed over his face, but then he recovered and nodded like he was doing her a favor. She gestured for him to continue to the back of the plane and followed him.

  “May I ask what this is about?” GiGi put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, indicating he should also keep his voice down.

  “Protocol.”

  “For what?”

  “For…for what I do. I’m the inspector.” GiGi blinked. “With the federal government.” GiGi blinked again. “To inspect the plane.”

  She glanced down at his badge. “Aren’t you inspecting the pilots?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Then why are you back here?”

  “I’m inspecting everything.”

  GiGi had to take a deep breath in order to finish this conversation. “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?” His voice rose. “I’m a federal inspector. I can inspect whatever I want whenever I want.”

  “But you’re the ACI for the pilots. We have our own inspector.”

  He paused, his eyelids fluttering. “Yes, well.” He looked at her gold-plated nametag. “GiGi. Like everything else in this industry, we’ve had to make changes. Cuts. Downsizes. So now I get to do two jobs for the price of one.” He looked at his clipboard, then hugged it against his chest. “I assume your safety demonstration went well? Everyone knows how to release their seat belts? All done with smiles on your faces even though nobody is paying attention to you?”

  GiGi folded her arms. What was that, some comment on the fuzzy video they played? It wasn’t her fault the equipment didn’t work well. If it was up to her, they’d still do live safety demonstrations. Every once in a while, back in her younger days, she liked to mess with the passengers’ heads and finish by telling them there would be a pop quiz. People actually went pale. It was a lot of fun.

  This, however, was not fun, and she didn’t appreciate his tone. One red mark and she’d have to do additional training on a computer, but maybe it’d be worth it to wipe that smug look off his face.

  “As far as I can tell,” he said, “you’re doing everything to the high standard we expect. I’m impressed.”

  “Great. Impress yourself back to the cockpit where people are impressed with impressiveness.” GiGi dialed back her tone a little. She didn’t need trouble. “Look, it’s been a complicated flight, as I’m
sure you’re well aware.”

  “I’ve taken that into consideration. You’ve handled yourself properly from everything I’ve observed. The cabin is orderly and quiet.”

  When he’d observed all this was a mystery, since he’d been in the cockpit, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “Now,” he continued, “I will need to see the manifest.”

  “Why?”

  “It should be onboard at all times. I just have to check it off my list.”

  “I’ll see if I can locate it, but as you know, it only has business class, flying-club members, and passengers in need of assistance on it.”

  “That’s it? Not the entire list of people?”

  Kim appeared and pulled GiGi into the aisle. “Leendert is freaking out.”

  “About the toes?”

  “He thinks somebody is going to kill him.”

  “For heaven’s sake. Is he on medication?”

  “The agent doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.”

  GiGi slipped back into the galley to explain to the ACI that she needed to attend to a passenger, but he was gone. She glanced up the opposite aisle and saw him walking back toward the cockpit, inspecting whether or not people had their seat belts on.

  GiGi hurried to the agent and Leendert. The agent stood, looking like she wanted to punch something. GiGi felt the same way.

  “Now what?” GiGi snapped.

  The agent pulled her a few steps away. “This is just a play for attention. Don’t fall for it.”

  GiGi looked at Leendert. He was breathing hard and staring to his left, toward the aisle.

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’s a womanizer. He’s been trying to get one of you flight attendants to pay attention to him this entire flight. Of course, since his English stinks, he’s crashing and burning.”

  “Does he have a mental illness?”

  “Nothing of the sort.”

  GiGi glanced at him. “What’s he looking at?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

  “He’s going to kill me!” Leendert yelped. Both women whirled around.

  “Leendert, shut up,” the agent said.

  The only people in the back few rows of the airplane were Leendert, Agent Tasler, GiGi, Sandy, the dead woman and her daughter, and Ulcer Guy. The only “him” was Ulcer on the far side of the plane, intently watching his television.