Trust Me

The plane was nose-diving toward the ground. We were about to crash. Everyone around me, though, seemed oddly calm. Even Joe, who was seated next to me, seemed at ease. Joe’s been one of my closest friends since our days living in the college dorms, and he’s always been a laid back kind of guy. I would have figured, though, that something like our plane crashing would have brought about a bit more urgency. Apparently not.

Although mired in panic, I kept thinking how truly tragic this was, our crashing with only about twenty minutes left until we touched down in Austin. I was so close. So close. I’d almost made it to my new wonderful life. I was flying back to live with Joe. I’d just had my first book published and had a new agent and a publisher who was interested in another book from me. I’d just been reunited with my two closest friends—Joe and my other college best friend Claire. For once in my life I felt excited about the future and, well, happy. I was happy.

So of course the universe found this to be an appropriate time to end my life with a plane crash. With my run of bad luck, I could actually understand this cruel twist of fate. But what I couldn’t understand was the fact that everyone was so calm. Even the stewardess simply strolled down the aisle saying, “Excuse me, ma’am? Please return your seat to the upright position. We’ll be crashing in just a moment.” She smiled and moved on to the next passenger. She was so calm.

Meanwhile, sweat poured down my back as I braced myself, straining my neck to look out the window to see what was going on. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—it was dark and much of Texas is rural, so I saw nothing but the pitch-blackness. I thought to myself, We are going to CRASH…doesn’t anybody care??

I was just about to tell Joe how much I was freaking out when he lowered his tray table.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I practically screamed at him. “You can’t put your tray table down! Everything has to be in its stowed position for the crash!”

Joe laughed and shook his head. “Oh Sam, always the rules follower.”

I guess he did have a point. We were all going to be road kill in a matter of minutes, so the tray table probably wasn’t going to make a difference. As I was jolted  forward in my seat, I knew it was going to be a matter of minutes or maybe even seconds.

Joe sensed it, too; I could see it in his eyes. “We have to act fast, otherwise it’s going to be too late,” he said as he reached for something in the green duffel bag at his feet.

“Act fast?” I asked. What the hell was he talking about? What in the world could we possibly do to avoid death? The only thing I could think of was that he might want to return the tray table to its closed position. Not having a tray table saw his stomach in half would possibly make death a little less painful.

But before I could respond, he pulled out a book from the green duffel bag. It was a Dr. Seuss book, Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are? The one with the bright yellow cover. Did he think we were going to have time to read a nice bedtime story before our death? He opened it up on the tray table and said, “Let’s go. We have to jump in now.”

We have to jump in now? What the heck does that mean? “What do you mean? We can’t jump through a book.” My voice wavered at the end. I mean, we couldn’t. Could we?

“Yes we can. Just hold onto my hand,” Joe said calmly as he extended his hand toward me. I hesitated, which prompted him to say, “Sam, we have to go now. It’s now or never.” Another jolt and I knew we were seconds from crashing into the ground, probably some rancher’s cattle field or maybe a cotton field. Or maybe grapefruit? I wondered. Didn’t I just have a Texas grapefruit for breakfast the other day? Lost in my agricultural reverie, I’d failed to see that Joe was still holding out his hand. “Trust me,” he said.

The plane threw me forward and almost out of my seat. I would have to trust him; otherwise I’d be dead. So, as much as it scared my claustrophobic self to jump through an 8 ½ x 11 page—not to mention my confusion at how it would even be possible—I knew I’d have to do it. I unbuckled my seatbelt as Joe unbuckled his; then I grabbed his hand, and together we stood on our seats and jumped into the book…

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Every Monday on the blog, you’ll find some flash fiction. Today’s story is part one of Trust Me. Join me here next Monday to see how the story ends.