Damaged

James

We’ve been in a bumpy holding pattern for the last half hour. I know I’m already late, but it’s the fact that I can’t even send a fucking text to tell Sophia that drives me crazy.

I’m standing behind Manny in the cockpit—we’ve gotten on a nickname basis in the last twenty minutes. “I think the most likely scenario is that we’re re-routed to Montreal. We can get a hotel overnight, or you can drive to Quebec City.”

“That’s a five-hour drive in this weather. Is there a private airport around here where we can get permission to land?”

“Private airports are closed completely tonight.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Fuck.

The symphony is about to start. I’m picturing Sophia taking her seat alone. Glancing at the empty seat next to her.

I love you. I replay her words. The wet glisten in her brown eyes as she said them. Why’d that have to be today? Why did today have to become so special?

“I have a question,” I say and lean closer to Manny’s ear. “Where’s the microphone that puts us on the black box?”

“The CVR?”

“Sure.”

He points to the ceiling instrument panel. I see the microphone holes and press my palm firmly against them so we can’t be recorded.

“What’s the consequence for landing right now?”

Manny grins. “Hefty. We’d need an emergency.”

“And what’s the reason for not letting us land? Visibility?”

“That, sure. But primarily it’s because the runway is as slick as ice. They’re spreading deicer, but it’s not doing much.”

“And what would you need to land?” I raise an eyebrow conspiratorially.

“I don’t know…”

“A hundred grand. Land this plane, and it’s yours.”

“You got it.” Manny smiles. I think he believes he just took me for a bargain. Little does he know I would’ve offered a fucking million.

“I’ll claim I’m afraid of an ice buildup on the horizontal stabilizers, which is true, by the way. This bird’s gotta come down in a half hour, or we’re in trouble.”

“Perfect.”

There are two pilot seats, but my plane is not a model that mandates the necessity of two pilots. “If we slide, where’s the most dangerous place to be?” I ask.

“Here in the cockpit. This takes the impact of whatever we run into.”

I sit in the seat next to him and fasten the seat belt.

“What’re you doing?”

“We’re in this one together, Manny.”

He smiles. “Alrighty.”

He starts descending and radios in for an emergency landing, citing an icing hazard. The air traffic controller tries to get us to make it to Montreal. But Manny is earning his money. He insists the plane’s controls are losing responsiveness.

We get cleared, but there’s no fist bump or celebration. The snow is flying towards the cockpit windows at what looks like warp speed. I gulp down my anxiety and brace a hand against a free spot in the instrument panel.

I look at the altitude. One hundred feet. But the ground is still nowhere in sight. Just blinding snow.

“Have you landed this blind before?”

“Nope,” Manny says. I can tell from how breathy his words are that he’s scared shitless.

Christ, what have I done?

If I live, I’m not going to tell Sophia about this one. It would probably just piss her off, but right now, under the spell of love, I would rather risk my life than fuck up this evening with complete certainty.

I see the runway at nearly the same time as the runway lights. It’s covered in a thin film of snow. I can see the flash of emergency lights. They have the airport’s fire trucks waiting to extinguish us should we burst into flames.

Now this is stupid. I brace myself as the plane touches down. It does so gently. Quietly. It feels smooth and normal, but then Manny speaks.

“Oh… Shit.”

I’m about to ask what the problem is, when suddenly I feel us start to slide. The back of the plane is swinging around to the front.

We’re going to flip.

I see Sophia in the orchestra hall, realizing too late that there were worse things to put her through than being stood up tonight.

I just hope the explosion of jet fuel makes it quick. I close my eyes tight, expecting the weightlessness of the flip, but instead I’m thrown against my seat. There’s a crunch of snow as the plane slides into the unplowed median of the runway and comes to a lurching stop.

Manny frantically flips a few buttons on the instrument panel, kills the engines, and leans back heavily in his seat.

I slap his knee a couple times, and then we’re both laughing.

“Man. You’re still going to be late. They’re going to need a tug to get us out of here,” Manny says.

“Can you do me one last favor?” I say, unbuckling my seat belt and standing.

“What’s that?”

“Tell them I got claustrophobic.”

“Will do, Mr. Callaway.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Manny.”

I go to the main cabin door and open it. The door opens down, becoming a short flight of stairs, but from the way we’re angled into the median, they don’t reach the ground.

I jump several feet from the bottom into the snow. I fish my passport from my breast pocket and hold it up as I walk towards the fire truck that comes wailing to a stop.

Good thing I didn’t try this trick in Germany. The French Canadians seem fairly laid-back about the whole thing. The fire team’s SUV pulls up a couple minutes later and, after only a brief discussion, takes me to customs.

I text Sophia in the back seat.

Me: I’ll be there in a half hour.

I hold my phone in my fist, waiting for a response, but I have to put it away as I walk inside and to the customs booth.

There’s only one agent working. It’s not the same one from this morning. It’s a younger woman with her hair up in a tight black bun. She’s pretty but looks deathly serious.

“What flight did you come in on?” she asks in English. Her brows wrinkled in confusion.

“It was private. Tail number N898VT.”

She juts her chin out at me. “The one that just crashed?”

“It was more of a slide, really. Are they calling it a crash?” I give her my most devilish grin. Sophia would certainly forgive me. The woman can’t help but grin back, but she looks away from me.

“How long are you staying in the country?”

“A few days. For pleasure.”

She takes my passport and scans it, and then she hands it back. “Welcome to Canada.”

“Thank you,” I say, and then I’m practically jogging and following the arrows that say Taxis. I take a breath when I’m in the back seat of one.

I pull out my phone to see if Sophia has responded. Nothing.

Her phone is probably off for the performance. That’s all. That’s when my phone starts to ring. It’s a 202 area code. I know by heart that’s Washington D.C.

I know because nothing good ever happens after I get a call from a 202 area code.

“Hello,” I answer.

“ Callaway. It’s Richard Martin.”

“Ah,” I say. It’s Daddy, Cody’s father. “How can I help you, Richard?”

He sighs like he has a lot to say, and I glance at my watch. “We Jacksonians have been looking for young blood for a long time. A new board of leadership. You show many of the qualities we appreciate in a leader. But… My son, Cody, he showed me the footage he has on you.”

I frown. This conversation is a little more awkward, knowing this man has seen my penis. “Yes, and he’s blackmailing me with it.”

“I figured as much. I wanted to call because I don’t want you to drop out. I want you on the next board of The Society.”

It’s my turn to sigh. “Cody told me you found my behavior repulsive.”

“I do. I won’t lie, and many of our other members do, too. But you’re young. We were, too. What bothers me more about it is that you wouldn’t be more careful. There was a camera right there.”

“The cameras on The Beverly’s elevators are hidden.”

“Are they?”

“I looked. You can see me give the ceiling a sweep for cameras in the video.”

“Huh. I’ll have to give it another watch,” Richard says, and I don’t fill the silence. He realizes the implication of his words and awkwardly coughs and harrumphs. “So. Will you stand for election on the fifth of May?”

“Can you stop Cody from releasing the video?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s on a bit of a war path. I think you remind him of Cal Kincutty from his Wharton days.”

“Who?”

“He was Valedictorian over Cody by a hair’s width. Cal was always a little ahead of Cody. Selected for the rowing team before him. Even stole his girlfriend, according to Cody. When he’d come home for the holidays, all he’d talk about at the dinner table was this Cal fella. He hated him so much. I think you give him similar feelings. I know he thinks he should be the one being considered for this addition to the board.”

“I see.” So, Cody’s always been a loser. Surprise.

“Let him release it. You run some sort of software company. I’m sure you know how to scrub it off the internet.”

Richard shows he doesn’t know a thing about the internet. There once, there forever is still a hard and fast rule.

“And I have the votes to win even if this video comes out?” I ask.

“Easily. I’ve done a count.”

The taxi reaches the orchestra hall. The snow is falling even harder now than it was when we landed.

Or crashed.

I’ll go with that. It sounds better. It’s true that I crashed a plane for Sophia. Love, an idea I was quick to belittle a couple months ago, was now something I’d risk my life for.

Happily risk my life for.

And what does this decision do for my relationship? Letting this video get out there. There’s no doubt our sex tape will go viral after our stint in the news after the heist.

This will be big.

“?” Richard asks.

I’ve been quiet for too long. “Yeah,” I say and pay the cabbie. Then I get out and stand in the snow. “I think, perhaps…” I’m picturing Sophia sitting alone. Oblivious to this entire conversation that has a lot to do with her. She deserves a say. I don’t care how much power this would give me.

“I think perhaps I pull my hat out of the ring at The Society.”

“Really?”

“Really. Maybe another time. Maybe next year.”

“These opportunities don’t come every year.”

“And I still can’t say yes.”

Richard is silent for a moment. “Alright. I won’t fight you. I do have a question. The same one a lot of the board has been wondering. What does the girl know?”

“Sophia?”

“Yes.”

“She knows nothing. Not about the heist or the existence of this video.”

“Keep it that way. Okay, ?”

“Yeah.” My tone becomes icy.

“Good night, then.” Richard hangs up.

I bring the phone down slowly. I stare at the doors but can’t bring myself to walk to them.

Will Sophia let me take her hand and squeeze it? Will I be able to sit down and act like being an hour late is no big deal?

“Hey,” I hear a soft voice say, breaking the silence. A familiar voice.

I whip my head to the right to see Sophia walking a few steps closer. She was waiting near the orchestra hall’s little sculpture garden. Did she hear?

I’m already squinting, trying to see how well sound travels in the snow, when she answers my question.

“So, what don’t I know?” she asks casually.

She comes a little closer, and I can see that she’s been crying. I take a quick step to her. My first instinct is to wrap my arms around her. To apologize for being so fucking late on such an important day, but Sophia takes a quick step back, like I’m… dangerous.

My heart feels like it’s tugged with her.

She’s quiet, waiting for an answer.

“It’s a longer story.”

“I’m not going back in there.” She looks at the orchestra hall. “How about a walk?”

“Those tights look thin.”

“I’m plenty warm, . Come on.”

We start walking side-by-side towards a paved trail that runs through a park along the St. Lawrence. A little pickup truck with a snowplow and an orange light whirling on top has just plowed it.

It idles nearby, and the sound of its engine is loud enough that there’s no pressure to talk until we pass it and are again engulfed in the snowy silence.

I realize after another minute of walking slowly that Sophia is waiting for me to start talking. “I’m part of this networking club, you could call it. It’s a collaboration of business and government officials. Like if a smoky backroom were a business itself.”

Sophia doesn’t give me any feedback. She stares down at her stockinged feet in her heels. She must be cold, but she shows no emotion whatsoever.

“They wanted to elect me to their board, but first they had to test my loyalty. Make some money off me. The heist… It was all a setup.”

“What?” She flings her head up to look at me.

“I didn’t know a thing about it. I found out the very same night it happened. That’s why I came. That’s why I saved you.”

Her mouth hangs open. I don’t fill the silence with endless apologies. I simply let her take it in and formulate her next thought.

“And you still work with these people? The ones who did this?” Her words burn. They’re an accusation of betrayal.

“Only so I can lead them, yes.”

“Why on earth, , would you want to do that?”

“It’s that or be led by them, Sophia. My business doesn’t let me escape politics. To be in a position with the leverage I need to call the shots is always the smarter option. It gives me power over them instead of the other way around.”

She suddenly stops walking. The wind blows strong at our backs. I’m cold, and Sophia must be freezing, but she still shows no sign of discomfort.

“You know, . When the gallery was robbed, I told myself it would’ve happened either way. Like maybe that team had been watching the place for years, waiting for the opportunity to rob it. And when the Egyptian artifacts came in, they couldn’t resist. But it was you.”

“What?”

“Everything. It was always you. All this danger I’ve been in… The Russian. The burglars.”

She’s saying what I’ve been thinking. Her life has been worse off with me in it, and all I can think about is the blackmail.

She doesn’t even know it involves her. How could I explain that? I would only prove her point.

“It’s rarely ever been this bad,” I say.

“But it’s been this bad before?” Sophia asks. She smiles while still frowning. A look of disbelief. “You’re saying this kind of shit just happens to you?”

Words start in my throat, but they get stuck there. They’re not good enough. Excuses. Empty promises.

Sophia hiccups an amused chuckle. “Fuck, . And then there’s how much you work. How’d the blackmailing situation go, by the way?”

“We’ll be alright.”

Sophia turns her head a little sideways. She’s nervous. Confused. “We’ll? Who’s we? And please tell me it’s the company.”

I bite my tongue. “It’s a sex tape. The elevator. That time on the way to dinner at The Beverly.”

Her eyes flash wide in fear.

“It’s not coming out,” I say quickly. “It’s all taken care of.”

“…” She shakes her head, and her eyes widen. “I can’t take this.”

“Things will change now.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” She raises her voice. “As long as you’re CEO, as long as you’re running around your boys’ club, things like this are always going to happen. You may play it cool, but I know when you don’t have a handle on things. There’s a shine in your eyes. An uncertainty. You’ve got a tell , , and now if I look hard enough… I can see it every single day.”

“I’m creating a new position in the company. A president. I’m halving my official duties.”

Sophia pauses. I see something flicker in her eyes. Hope. But then her eyelids lower with melancholy. “…” She shakes her head tiredly. “It sounds like a half measure.”

“Listen to me, Sophia. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. There’s nothing I won’t do.”

“But there is.” Sophia’s voice is nearing a shout. “You’re late all the time, . You’re canceling all the time. It’s not just the danger; it’s your business that you live and breathe.”

I’m out of words. I don’t know what else to say, but I’m panicking. There’s a finality in her tone of voice. Like nothing can be done to alter this course. I’ve never been on this side of this, but I know a breakup when I see one.

“I love you, Sophia.”

“Don’t say that now. Don’t—” Her voice cracks. She begins to cry. Seeing her big brown eyes glisten rips my heart in two. I can’t help it. I reach out to hold her.

“Get away from me,” she says, her voice trembling. She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t raise her voice. She says it in a voice thick with tears.

I let my arms fall to my sides. I go limp. It feels like she just thrust a dagger through my chest.

“The most dangerous things that have happened to me happened because of you. And I can’t keep ignoring that. I can’t, . I love you, too.” She takes a shaky breath. “And that’s the worst part of all of this, isn’t it?”

I have no words, and Sophia begins to walk down the trail. She turns after a few steps. “I’ll pack my things up at the hotel when I get back. And then… I’ll do the same in New York.”

My heart feels like it stops beating. My breath is stuck in my lungs. She’s ending things. I knew this was coming. I crashed a fucking plane to try and stop it, but it was no use.

“Where are you going?”

“Taking a walk. Alone.”

“I’m not sure—”

“It’s safe?” she interrupts. “Because I’m pretty sure walking alone in a park at night is a million times safer than standing by your side, Callaway. So don’t wait up,” she says and begins to walk into the snow.

I stand still until she disappears a hundred yards ahead. Vanishing in the curtain of falling snow.

I could lie down here, content to freeze. I move only because I don’t want to bother her anymore by being here when she loops back. I turn and walk away.

So that’s it. I rack my brain for words. For potential promises and actions to win her back. To agree to another chance. But there’s no half measure available to me. Besides, saying anything now is simply bartering.

The symphony will be letting out soon. There’s a queue of taxis building on the avenue.

I get into one and say hello in English.

“Where would you like to go?” asks the cab driver in his French accent.

I pause and look at the park. Sophia isn’t going to want to see me at the hotel. I only have some clothes there. I took my laptop with me and forgot it on the plane.

“The airport,” I say, surprising myself. I attempt to steel my fleshy heart into an object as hard and cold as the streets outside. If this is going to be how it is, I’m not going to mope.

I’m not going to linger.

The cab pulls from the curb, and I keep my head straight and facing away from the park. But my insides hurt .

I’ve felt this before. First when my parents died and then Sabrina.

It was something I wanted to avoid for the rest of my life. Something I made a point to steer clear of.

Loss.

Loss that clouds your mind with grief. Loss that is the first thing you think about upon waking up. But Sophia still walks this earth.

I’m a little shocked. I had no idea it could feel as devastating to have to say goodbye to the living as much as it does the dead.

I choose to glance at the park. Half my heart is in there. Walking in the dark. The cold. The snow.

I swallow. Good riddance. She can keep it.

Because the less heart I have, the better.