Chapter 25
25
Karina booked our tickets to San Francisco, departing at 1:39 p.m. the next day. When we arrived at the airport, I was prepared to be selected for additional screening, assuming my flight binge might have thrown up red flags within the TSA system. One-way flights were considered suspect, and I’d taken twenty-two of them in quick succession—seventeen on board N92823, plus five deadheads. Terrorists, saboteurs, and rowdy passengers were my enemies; I hated being lumped in with those miscreants, but I would submit to extra screening with gratitude that the security apparatus was functioning healthily.
Instead, when we printed our boarding passes, Karina’s was the one bearing the symbol SSSS .
Her face paled when I explained what the letters meant. “Why me?”
I shrugged. “They don’t need a reason. It might be random.”
In the TSA line, Karina remained stoic as she was led to a separate table, where her Louis Vuitton bag and backpack were thoroughly probed, her body patted down, her hands swabbed. Meanwhile, I passed through without incident. Only when I saw my backpack on the belt did I remember my vision board and chunk of 737 were still tucked inside it.
I waited for Karina on a bench. She emerged looking rattled. “That was such bullshit,” she muttered.
As we made our way through the K Concourse, I told her I was still carrying the vision board.
“It’s okay,” Karina said. “Stacy was right. The boards don’t do shit.”
I could tell she was uneasy, though. She suggested we destroy the board, for good measure. In a corner of an empty gate, we unfolded the posterboard and ripped off its images. Karina then tore apart the board itself, reducing it to fragments the size of playing cards. We took it all to the restroom, where we flushed the clump of images down a toilet. Karina left to refill her water bottle, while I lingered before the mirror, admiring my freshly shampooed and blow-dried hair, along with the tasteful makeup Karina had applied. I withdrew my chunk of 737. I knew I should throw it away, too, but I felt sad to imagine it lumped in with the bathroom trash and taken to a landfill somewhere. In the mirror, I watched my lips kiss the plane shard. I tucked it in my back pocket.
—
The day before, Karina had been calm and confident, taking me firmly in hand and leading me out of the terminal in which I’d previously sworn I would die. Now, as we sat at K16 waiting for our plane to arrive, she seemed full of nervous energy, her knee jiggling, her head swiveling to take in our surroundings, which she found deficient in every way.
“It’s too hot in here,” she said, removing her sweatshirt and fanning herself with her boarding pass. “These people are disgusting,” she whispered a moment later, as humanity swarmed around us. I watched her sanitize her hands twice in the span of five minutes, though they hadn’t touched anything.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I said.
“We’re doing it,” she snapped. “Don’t give me an out.”
She said she had to use the restroom again, leaving me alone at the gate. A few minutes later, our plane pulled in. My breath caught as I beheld what appeared to be a fine young A320. His windscreen glinted with sunlight, giving him a mischievous look. I resisted the urge to inspect his flank and discover his name. I’d resolved to approach our flight like an ordinary passenger. Most people didn’t even know what model of plane they flew in, much less the plane’s registration number.
Passengers streamed out of the jet bridge. They must have come from a tropical locale, as many of them wore straw hats and floral-printed shirts, their faces flushed with sunburn. I gazed into the plane’s windscreen, my desire to fly resurging. I’d ruined previous dates by being too focused on my goal. On this flight, I’d relax and enjoy myself, getting to know this handsome stranger on his own terms.
Minutes passed. The plane was cleaned and inspected, and soon, the boarding process for our flight began. Karina returned to the gate just when I’d begun to worry. She sat next to me, smiling apologetically. “I had a little freak-out, but I’m good now,” she said. “I called Anthony and he talked me down.”
“We’ll be home soon,” I said, patting her thigh. I was excited to see Karina and Anthony’s new apartment. Karina had told me I could sleep on their couch for as long as I needed, though I planned to limit my stay to a week. I had faith that something would work out. I embraced the unknown, trusting that the universe’s plan was superior to mine.
As we proceeded down the jet bridge, I remained determined to approach our flight like a regular person, without an agenda aside from safe transport from one location to another. But when I crossed the plane’s threshold, an electric pulse surged through my body, a liquid sensation pooling at the base of my spine. It was the same feeling I’d had when I boarded my previous flight with Karina, the feeling all my flights with N92823 had lacked. This plane recognized me—or did he recognize both of us? Perhaps I’d been right all along to suspect my fate and Karina’s were intertwined.
We reached row 29, a middle and aisle seat on the starboard side. Karina took the middle seat and wiped down her area the way she used to prepare her terminal at Acuity.
“I have to tell you something,” I whispered, but Karina cut me off.
“Stop,” she said with a firmness that startled me.
I was shocked by what I saw in her eyes: understanding and acceptance. Not of me, but of fate.
“Linda,” she said softly, “I know.” She took my hand and squeezed it.
The door was sealed. We pulled back from the gate. Sunlight spilled across Karina’s lap, highlighting the raised fibers of her leggings. She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through her mouth.
“I’m going to close my eyes now, if you don’t mind,” she said. Her hand still gripped mine.
As we rose into the sky, a powerful vibration began, rattling my teeth in my skull. In my back pocket, the shard of plane gathered heat, until I feared it would burn through my jeans. The fuselage shook with greater intensity as we rose above Chicago. We rolled left, the plane’s wing pointing to the earth, a thin trail of smoke visible through the window. All the while, Karina’s eyes remained closed, a vague smile on her lips. I held her hand until I could hold it no more.