Brace for Impact – Autumn
Brace for Impact
Autumn
T he clouds are clogging my window, serving me a static gray view.
This plane is three times the size of Ryder’s other jet, with enough space for over a hundred passengers, not just two and a skeleton crew.
Instead of taking a tour, I’ve listened to Adeline sing while skipping up and down the aisle.
While she gears up for an encore, I head to the front.
I need a drink…
The lone flight attendant is staring at a perfume ad in a magazine, whispering something to herself. Her eyes are red and puffy, and the smile she greeted me with at boarding is long gone.
Why do I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before?
“Hello, Miss Jane.” She slowly glances up at me. “How may I be of service to you?”
“I uh—” I look her over, realizing she can’t be much older than me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Well, of course, I can make another cup of coffee for you!” Her smile returns, and she moves to the galley. “Whipped cream, caramel, and hazelnut, correct?”
“Yes, but… That’s not what I wanted to ask you.”
“I promise I won’t forget about adding a bit of caramel to the bottom of the cup as well.” She winks. “I’ve kept the bottle on a warmer as a reminder.”
“No, please listen to me…”
“Would you like to try a bit of toffee this time?” she asks. “It mixes well with the hazelnut.”
“My question is not about the goddamn coffee.” My words spill out harshly, and she steps back.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sighing. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. My question is about Mr. Rochester.”
She blinks.
“Did he do something to make you cry?” I pull a Kleenex from the counter and hold it out for her, but she doesn’t take it.
Instead, she stares at it like it’s some trick.
“I just started working for him recently.” I attempt to level with her. “How long have you been here?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying…”
“Years, months, weeks?” I lower my voice. “How long have you been one of his flight attendants?”
She says nothing.
“I’m just curious.” I step closer. “It gives me an idea of how he runs his business.”
“Did you just say business blend?” She opens a cabinet. “That happens to be my favorite flavor, too. I can totally brew that instead of the house blend.”
I take a deep breath and try remembering the name she gave me when I first boarded.
Heather? Harriet? Hannah…
“Hannah,” I say, “I know you’re acting purposely dense, but I’m not asking you for any insider information. I only want to know how long you’ve been here.”
“Your coffee won’t take long at all.” She takes out a mug. “My apologies for not keeping your cup full. You won’t have to ask for another refill.”
“Hannah, please …”
“No need to beg, Miss Jane. Lunch will be served in exactly one hour, and I promise it will please your palate.”
Point taken. “Thank you, Hannah.”
“You’re very welcome. I’ll bring your drink the moment it’s finished.”
I turn around, nearly spinning into Adeline.
“Do you want to see my room, Miss Jane?” she asks.
“I’m certain Miss Jane would love to see your room, Miss Rochester.” Hannah suddenly remembers how to have a conversation. “Give her the grand tour.”
“Great! Follow me!” Adeline grabs my hand and tugs me down the aisle, past the bathroom and two locked doors. She unclasps her bracelet and pushes a charm into the lock.
Opening the door, she reveals a luxurious room that pays homage to every shade of violet and pink. Oversized teddy bears and plush violins stand atop the perfectly made bed, and floating bookshelves hoard an array of hardback novels.
Atop a grand wood dresser, a glittering photo frame displays rotating pictures while playing a pop song.
Drawn to its light, I walk over and watch the photos dissolve into each other.
Adeline laughs as Ryder pushes her on a swing. The mere sight of him wearing dark gray sweats and a white T-shirt is enough to make my body react.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I watch the frame transition to Ryder helping her climb a tree in a beautiful garden.
Next, in a series of short videos, the two of them share an empty stage and play music together.
He tames the double bass. She coaxes the violin, cello, and the piano.
She can play all three?
“Again, sweetheart.” Ryder smiles at her as she sets down her bow. “One more time.”
“I hate practicing.”
“I’m aware.” He laughs softly. “But even the best have to do it.”
“Can we go swimming after this?”
“Depends on how well you play this time. Again, Adeline. Again.”
“Okay…” She positions her bow against the violin, and the frame suddenly stops. Then, it returns to the beginning.
Setting it down, I look up at the cursive quotes that are painted on the walls.
“Without music, life would be a mistake.” “Violin strings sing beautiful things.” “I am the best violinist in the world.”
“I picked all those.” Adeline plops onto an oversized chair. “I painted them, too.”
“They’re very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she says. “My dad bought the letters when he was on a business trip to Italy. I wanted to go, but it was only for his college students.”
I blink. “His college students?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “He teaches at Montlake University. Don’t you know that?”
I don’t say a word.
“Here you are, Miss Jane.” Hannah enters the room, handing me the coffee I never asked for. She walks over to Adeline’s bed and pulls back the covers. “I’ll bring you lunch after you nap for at least an hour. You know the rules.”
Adeline sighs, but she doesn’t protest. She takes off her shoes and slips into the bed.
Hannah disappears, and I take one last look around.
“Thank you for showing me your room,” I say. “I’ll see you when you wake up.”
“Hannah dropped something, Miss Jane.” She points to the floor. “She’s super type-A about keeping stuff clean, so I should run and give it back to her.”
“No, I’ll do it.” I pick it up. “You get some sleep.”
Without another word, she turns off the lights and rolls over.
I shut the door and start to fold the napkin, but the tiny words on it catch my eye.
My father owes him a debt, and I have to work until it’s paid … I suggest you throw this away & never ask me anything else.
I also suggest that you don’t get into the town car when we land. Just walk away… if you can.
What the…
“Ah, Miss Jane!” She’s suddenly at my side, holding out a plate. “Lunch is now served.”
I’m too unnerved by her fake smile to speak.
“How does filet mignon, steamed broccoli, and a side of garden greens sound?” She waits for approval.
I glance at the plate and notice she’s drizzled letters around the plate’s edge with balsamic glaze.
DO NOT TRUST MISTER R. EVER.
End of Episode 3