by Merri Hiatt
Jessica McDaniels strolled over with her usual air of disinterest. “They’ve seen it. Let me guess, you’re going to say something like, ‘We should all be concerned about his health’ or something equally as mundane?”
“Jessica!” Monica half screeched. She put her hands on her hips. “That is not a very nice thing to say. Poor Captain Adams needs help.”
“That’s why you’re running up to everyone who walks in the door and gossiping about him, right, Jessica? Because you want to help him.”
“I do want to help!”
“Calm down. No one really thinks you don’t want to help,” Jenny said. “Things like this always get blown out of proportion. For all we know, the real story is that he was in the bathroom, dropped a pen and picked it up and it got turned into a needle and heroin was added into the mix. Why don’t we all wait to hear what BA has to say about it?”
“Ballinger will deny it all. Nothing is ever their fault.” Jessica eyed Jenny as if she were dissecting a bug.
“I hear Kate’s lost some of her new girl shine; relegated to looping between Seattle and New York. Guess that’s what happens when you’ve ridden too many friendly skies.”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but Kate’s headed for Ireland with an extended layover. Sounds like a slice of heaven to me and far from any kind of reprimand.”
Patricia added, “You can only hope that some of her shine will rub off on your shriveled up…”
“Girls, we need to work together now.” Rocky reached into his pocket and handed out hard candy to everyone in the small circle. “You can’t say mean things while you’re enjoying a little sucky.”
“You should know,” Jessica said.
Monica began to snort as she choked on the cinnamon disc.
All four FAs said, “Raise your left arm.”
“Funny how our training kicks in,” Jenny said as Patricia pulled a chair over so Monica could sit down. Even Jessica helped out by heading over to the table to get a bottle of water.
“Okay?” Jenny asked.
Monica nodded. “Wrong pipe or something.”
“Did you swallow it whole?” Patricia asked.
“My, my.” Rocky’s hand flew to his chest. “Have you had experience with choking before?”
“My gag reflex isn’t very strong.”
“Now that’s a handy piece of information to keep in your back pocket.”
Patricia pressed her lips together to keep from laughing and didn’t dare look Jenny in the eye.
Jenny dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand.
Jessica opened the water bottle and handed it to Monica. “Are you okay now?”
“Much better.”
“We need to check-in,” Patricia said.
Jenny and Rocky joined her as they headed toward the inner office. When they shut the hallway door, laughter exploded from their mouths.
“Say it again,” Patricia said.
“What?” Rocky asked.
“About the little sucky,” Jenny said through giggling fits.
“All I said was that you can’t say mean things while you’re enjoying a little sucky.”
The women leaned against each other and the wall for support as they bent over laughing.
“What? It’s the truth. Can you talk when you’re enjoying a little sucky?”
Rocky continued to feign innocence about his comment as they teased him. Once they had their mirth under control, they headed into the inner office to sign-in.
“One of my favorite things about my job is working with you, Rocky.” Jenny gave him a hug.
“Aw, it’s one my favorite things, too. Here, have another sucky.”
Chapter Six
“Green light’s up for our flight.” Rocky zipped up his carry-on, extended the handle and stood up. “Wish you were going with us, Jenny.”
“Me, too. I know you really want to come to Utah with me.”
“I’m so envious.” Patricia gathered up her belongings and joined Rocky. “Seriously, you need to think about learning to drive. You have to wait hours before your flight leaves.”
“I can always find ways to keep busy. Safe flight.”
Rocky gave her a hug, whispering, “You, too,” in her ear.
“See you when I get back. I’ll be sporting an amazing Bahama tan.”
“It’ll just give you skin cancer.”
“Hater.”
Rocky rolled his eyes. “Come on. I heard Captain Morris got bumped. Stomach flu.”
“So who’s the pilot?”
“New guy from Alaska, Captain Sean O’Dell.”
“Any dirt?”
“That’s why I want to get on the plane. I’m sure someone has something juicy to share.”
“Go!” Jenny said. “And be sure to fill me in on the gossip when you get back.”
“Will do. Safe flight, Jenny.”
Rocky and Patricia headed through the door that led to the interior corridor. The maze-like structure beneath the airport was massive with several levels accessible by stairs and elevators. Patricia carried a map with her to navigate the labyrinth.
Her move from San Francisco to Seattle was less than six months old and she was still getting used to SeaTac Airport. Most of her flights in California had been local, to the Bay Area or overseas. Seattle was unfamiliar territory.
Jenny walked over to the window, staring out over the runway. Excitement heated her blood. At any moment she could hop on a plane and go anywhere in the world. The sky really was the limit.
She watched as all the behind-the-scenes activities unfolded, knowing well that even more preparation occurred where curious eyes were not allowed. Baggage was delivered to the correct plane, making her think of Mr. Baggage Handler; food was prepared, brought on board and stored; safety checks would be performed again and again to make sure the plane was ready to transport passengers and staff; the jet would be fueled and systems tested; weather reports would be transmitted; and air traffic controllers would be confirming flight plans.
Passengers had no idea what was involved in one flight, let alone the hundreds of flights that took off and landed each day. It was nothing short of a miracle that it all occurred so seamlessly.
“Missing your gay friend already?” Jessica slid up beside her, placing her hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he and O’Dell will have something in common.”
“Did Jason finally wise up and kick you to the curb? No more sex for you. Is that why you’re being especially obnoxious today?”
Jessica removed her hand as if she’d been stung. “Leave my personal life out of this.”
“Why? You couldn’t wait to make a comment about Rocky and he’s my friend, part of my personal life. You can’t have it both ways. And, what’s the big deal if Rocky’s gay or not? You’d be lucky to call him a friend. I know I am. Excuse me.” Jenny turned, her carry-on wheels swiveling perfectly behind her.
The red light by her flight told her she wouldn’t get past the first security check, but she headed through the door that led to the inner corridors anyway. At least it would get her away from Jessica.
“People can be so stupid,” she grumbled. After heading down the hallway to the left, making a quick jog to the right, another right, and then another left until she came to a four-way intersection. “Something’s not right here.”
Jenny retraced her steps, but realized she had gotten turned around somewhere. “What in the heck? Where am I? The security check station should be on my left.” All she saw was a large bank of windows leading into a beige meeting room with long tables and chairs. “I need one of those ‘You Are Here’ maps.”
“Can I help you?”
Jenny looked up to see Mr. Baggage Handler in a midnight blue jumpsuit with large head phones wrapped around his neck, along with a pair of safety goggles. His eyes were the most amazing shade of turquoise, some ethereal blend of green and blue.
“It’s you. You may not remember me. We
met on the tarmac.”
“Of course I remember you. You look lost.”
“Yes, well, I think I am. I thought I knew this airport like the back of my hand. I was looking for the first security checkpoint.”
“Which one? There’s a couple, depending on your status.”
“I only know of one. Do they have names?”
“Not officially.”
“Okay, I’ll bite, what are the unofficial names?”
“The first checkpoint for flight crew, except for pilots, is called… Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Definitely. I’ve heard it all. I won’t be shocked.”
“Okay.” The man grinned slightly and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger.
Jenny couldn’t help noticing his tidily trimmed fingernails. Did his girlfriend remind him to get a manicure or was that his own doing, she wondered. Jenny realized she hadn’t heard what he was saying. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Skirt. Some newbies tried to change it to Tail, but the seasoned vets weren’t having any of that.”
Jenny scowled. “What do they call the pilot’s checkpoint?”
“Dick.”
Jenny winced. “There are female pilots, you know.”
“More male than female.”
“Next?”
“Minions. Like me. We do the grunt work of delivering and retrieving.”
“You get to drive those cute little cars with the wagons behind?”
“I’ve never heard it described like that before, but yes.” The man’s eyes flashed with amusement.
“I’ve always wanted to try that.”
“Come on by anytime. I’ll let you ride with me.”
“I don’t want to ride. I want to drive!”
“Can’t let you do that unless you’ve gone through training.”
“How hard can it be?”
“Well, it’s not that it’s hard. Pretty much like driving a car. But you need to be aware of your surroundings at all times and you’re wearing head gear so you can’t hear the sounds around you.”
“So, you wouldn’t know if a plane was barreling down the runway?”
“I’d know because I can feel it, but not because I can hear it.”
“Does that heighten all your other senses?”
“It does.”
“Oh, gosh, where are my manners. I’m Jenny, Jenny Collins.” Jenny held out her hand.
“I’m Richard Novatney.” He took Jenny’s hand in his and squeezed gently. “My friends call me Rich.”
“Am I your friend?”
“You are now.” Rich smiled broadly, his eyes dancing. They seemed to shine brighter than the overhead fluorescent lighting.
They held hands a few seconds too long, creating an awkward tension. Jenny was surprised to find she liked the feel of his hand in hers. Something about the different textures made her want to wrap her hands around his and explore every nuance.
Rich cleared his throat, then removed his hand from hers.
Jenny blushed as she placed her hand back at her side.
“What’s the next, um, security check?”
“Formality. It’s usually shortened to Form. It’s more like paying lip-service to security. No one’s ever been stopped in Form. It’s mostly for visiting police officers or security staff who’ve already been given clearance a long time ago.
We also have Digs. That’s for Dignitaries, famous people and folks who need more security than the average John Q. Public.”
“Why not just call them number one, two, three?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“So I’m a Skirt, huh? Flight attendants haven’t been required to wear skirts in years. What about male FAs?”
“They’re Skirt, too. And, I’m pretty sure a few of them actually wear skirts, even if it’s only in their off hours.”
“Well, I’m looking for Skirt.”
“You aren’t too far off, it’s around this bend, make a left and then another left and you’ll be there.”
“Would you be willing to come with me? Just in case I get lost again.”
“Sure. I’m on a break.”
“Thank you. I feel better knowing I’m with someone who knows where they’re going. I thought I knew this airport so well. Preoccupied, I guess.”
They began walking toward the first security checkpoint. “If I get preoccupied, people die.”
“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?”
“Ever been hit by a vehicle loaded down with an airplane full of baggage behind it?”
“Almost.”
They exchanged smiles.
“Even when you stop the cart, the weight of the storage cars behind propels the vehicle forward.”
“No stopping on a dime?”
“Not even on a quarter.”
“How about a dollar?”
Rich chuckled.
“How long have you worked here?” Jenny asked.
“Fifteen years. My father worked for Ballinger his entire life.”
“That’s amazing. I don’t know anyone who’s been at the same job for ten years, let alone a lifetime.”
“I think he instilled that same sense of work ethic in me.”
“The question is, is the company as loyal to you as you are to it?”
“So far, yes.”
“That’s very good to hear.”
“You don’t like Ballinger?”
“I like them a lot, but I also know they’ve been cutting back on expenses.”
“Flight crew is the last place they’ll make changes. Guys like me will get the axe way before a Skirt will ever get cut.”
“I’m finding that term really distasteful. It makes me sound like some dim-witted woman who’s easy on the eyes but otherwise worthless.”
“That’s how some FAs treat the job.”
“Not the ones I’ve worked with.”
“Maybe you and your co-workers represent a higher class of flight attendant.”
“We like to think so. We call ourselves the Navy Seals of FAs.”
“Clever. I like that.”
A long table on the left, an x-ray machine on the right and a metal detector between the two came into view. Two men were standing nearby.
“Guess this is the place. Thank you, Rich. I’m not sure how I got so turned around.”
“My pleasure. Anytime. And, if you ever want to ride with me on a run, just let me know.” Richard pulled a card from his pocket with his name, phone and e-mail address. “Just call me.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Rich headed back toward the hallway they came from as Jenny was screened.
“Your flight doesn’t leave for several hours?”
“I know I’m early. I just couldn’t wait in the flight lounge a minute longer. You can check my credentials. I bought a book to read. No one will even know I’m around.”
The guards eyed her suspiciously, then glanced at the screen confirming her credentials.
“Okay this time, but don’t let it happen again.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
When she was given the “all clear,” she headed to the next checkpoint.
“Nice Skirt,” one of the men said.
“Very nice Skirt.”
“You think Rich has a chance?”
“Not in a million years.”
“Twenty bucks says he bangs the Skirt?”
“Make it forty and you’re on.”
The man pulled two twenty dollar bills from his pocket. “Done.”
The other man did the same.
“Some Skirt is deciding our fate.”
“Hasn’t it always been that way?”
“Maybe so. Maybe so.”
Chapter Seven
Jenny had her bearings again, but couldn’t sweet talk her way past the last security check.
“Your flight doesn’t leave for several hours. Access is unavailable until one hour prior to your fligh
t.” The man in uniform handed her a Security Rights and Responsibilities booklet.
“I have one of those already.”
“Have you read it?”
Jenny held her tongue and took a deep breath. Of course she’d read it. What was she, an illiterate idiot? She also knew there was a holding area beyond the final checkpoint that had internet access and couches that were comfortable enough to sleep on.
She just needed to convince the guard to let her pass. There was almost never more than one or two people in the mid-sized room and it was quiet; perfect for giving her a wide berth from Jessica.
Jenny took the booklet from the guard. “Thank you. I’ll read up on the policies. I’m sorry I wasn’t fully informed. You’re very kind to share this information. Is there a quiet place nearby where I could read it over?” With a feigned look of sincerity, Jenny gave her best Skirt impression. If they wanted dim-witted, she would give them dim-witted.
The guard smiled. “Glad to be of help. We have a waiting area just down the hall to your right. There’s a vending machine and a couple of couches; nothing fancy.”
“I’m sure it will be just fine. Thank you so much for your help.”
The guard allowed her to pass through after checking her credentials again.
As Jenny made her way down the corridor, she wondered why more terrorists didn’t try to infiltrate airplanes by becoming FAs. Sure, there was training to be done, but once you were approved and had completed a background check, you had access to numerous areas where items could be hidden to manufacture a bomb. Not that she knew what ingredients were needed to make a bomb, but it seemed plausible that one could be created while the plane was in flight.
“It’s a good thing they can’t screen our thoughts. I’d be grounded.”
“Jenny Collins, is that you?”
Jenny turned around to see Abby Chastaine heading toward her. She looked like a chaotic mix of every FA stereotype imaginable: hair swept up and tucked underneath a tidy hat, pastel pink suit with a small white name tag with wings emblazoned below her name, two-inch high heels that matched the color of her suit and a smile that impressed upon each passenger that they were the most important person on the plane.
And then there was the voice. Slightly breathy, as if a lover rolled over and asked her if she’d had a good time. Jenny could almost hear the reply: “Of course, darling. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had.” Did guys really buy that line, she wondered.
