Air travel had always made Mary nervous.  On the way to the airport for her trip to the nursing conference in Anaheim, she took some comfort in the fact that this event happened only once a year.  Of course, that didn’t stop her from imagining all the worst things that could possibly happen on today’s flight, and these thoughts became more intense as soon as she entered the building.  Recent high-profile airplane accidents only served to heighten her anxiety, and she swallowed her first Xanax as she joined the check-in line for this morning’s American flight from Philadelphia to Los Angeles.  Mary closed her eyes tight to shut out the chaos of fellow passengers frantically scribbling their details on bag check labels and grabbing young kids who were trying to duck under the belts dividing the lanes, but there was no defense against the insistent squawk of garbled announcements streaming from the PA system.  Seeing her obvious distress, the well-dressed man in line behind her smiled slightly and said, “Don’t worry, flying is still the safest way to travel.”

Mary checked her bag, pocketed her boarding pass, and was relieved to find only a short line at the TSA checkpoint.  After successfully navigating security, she made her way along the B-gate concourse and stopped at Vino Volo.  A large glass of pinot grigio was tempting, but she opted for a decaf dark roast coffee and bottle of water.  Hydration was a good thing and besides, the Xanax had started to kick in and she was feeling a little less anxious.  Boarding would not be for another hour and a half, and she planned on taking a second pill once the flight was called.  Meantime she would try to concentrate on her book, an exciting crime novel in the Harry Bosch series by Michael Connelly.  Maybe there would be time on the flight to look through the conference materials one more time.

As boarding time approached, Mary’s mind returned to potential mishaps on the upcoming flight.  She checked her weather app for the third time this morning and saw that the westerly winds were forecast to strengthen, so most probably they would be heading toward worse flying conditions.  It was easy for the guy from the check-in line to generalize, but this may not be the safest way to travel to LA today.  She pictured the aircraft being buffeted by extreme turbulence, overhead bins springing open and spilling their contents over panicked passengers, some of whom were throwing up as they bounced up and down in their seats.  Mary bought a sandwich to go and headed nervously to the gate area.  It was already crowded, but she found a seat and discreetly swallowed her pre-flight Xanax.

Before long the first boarding group was called, then the second, and finally it was Mary’s turn to get in line and venture onto the plane.  Her window seat, 26A, was two-thirds of the way back, two rows behind an emergency exit.  There was no one else in her row yet, and she was able to stow her carry-on bag directly overhead before sliding across and fastening her belt.  She lowered her tray table and unwrapped her sandwich, then shifted slightly to the left as a man eased himself into the middle seat beside her.  She was surprised – but not unpleasantly so – to see it was the same guy who had spoken to her in the check-in line.

“We must stop meeting like this,” he said with a grin.  She smiled back and they fell into an easy, superficial conversation.  He was going to LA on business for a few days, as was she.  He made the trip at least once a month, and the stress was not good for his blood pressure;  it didn’t thrill his wife either, who was left behind in Philly with their somewhat difficult teenage son.  Mary could relate, as her niece was also in her mid-teens and had a very independent streak.  They smiled at the shared experience, then he said, “I’m Jack, but don’t let me interrupt your lunch.”  Mary thanked him, introduced herself, and returned to her sandwich while Jack put in his earbuds and turned on a podcast.

When the cabin door closed, it became apparent that the seat next to Jack was empty.  He winked at Mary, slid over to the aisle, and asked, “How are you feeling now?”  She had finished her sandwich and the Xanax had started to kick in nicely, so Mary could honestly reply that she was doing pretty well.  Jack smiled and said, “Great!  Just give me a nudge any time you’d like to chat.”  Mary thanked him again, put in her own ear buds, chose a soothing playlist, and opened her book.  The plane taxied out to a line of other aircraft all waiting to take off, then it was finally their turn.

Mary looked out the window and felt her pulse quicken as the engines screamed and thrust her back into the seat.  She gripped each armrest as the plane hurtled forward and began its ascent into the air, then she felt the clunk of the landing gear retracting below her.  They gained height rapidly, and Mary only released her white-knuckle grip when the engines settled into a steadier throb and the captain announced that they had reached their cruising altitude of 39,000 feet at a speed of 500 mph.  Mary looked across at Jack and he grinned, giving her the thumbs-up.  She worried that he looked a little pale and asked if he was ok.  He assured her that he was fine and she reluctantly returned to her book, but it wasn’t long before she dozed off to the sound of Ed Sheeran singing “Thinking out Loud.”

Three hours later Mary was jolted awake by a massive bump followed by the sound of shrieks from fellow passengers as the plane hit the edge of a major storm, quickly losing altitude before leveling out again.  The captain’s voice was calm but urgent as he announced that they had been unable to fly around this weather system that had suddenly become more severe than anticipated.  He instructed passengers and crew to remain in their seats with their belts fastened and tray tables in the upright position and warned that it would be a bumpy ride for the next 30 minutes or so.  Mary’s heart pumped so hard she could almost hear it.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply in a vain attempt to calm her nerves.  Turbulence buffeted the plane from all sides, and she heard involuntary gasps and yelps from nearby passengers.  The cabin lights went out, eliciting more expletives, then the captain came back on to explain how they would be conserving power by turning off all non-essential circuits.  Mary glanced out the window and saw heavy rain blowing sideways in a dark gray sky, dense clouds illuminated by intermittent lightning.  She turned to look at Jack, and her feelings of fear turned immediately to alarm.

Jack appeared limp and lifeless, bouncing around in his seat like a big rag doll with each violent bump.  His face looked pale and sweaty, his breathing shallow and labored.  Mary was pretty sure he was having a heart attack.  She called out his name, then again but louder, but he did not reply.  She reached up for the attendant call button, and the turbulence turned this simple act into an urgent game of whack-a-mole as she stabbed first the reading light and then the air vent before finally hitting the yellow call button.  She turned back to check on Jack, quickly assessing what else she could do to help.  Fighting the violent, unpredictable movements of the aircraft around her, she unfastened her seat belt and maneuvered herself into the middle seat, secured her belt, then reached over and managed to loosen Jack’s tie and open his collar.  Looking up, she was relieved to see a flight attendant struggling to make her way along the aisle from the front of the plane.

The attendant seemed to have evaluated the situation even before reaching Jack’s seat, because she immediately asked if Mary knew his name, then shouted “Jack!”, tapped his shoulder, and shouted “Jack!” again.  When Jack did not respond, she fought her way to the back of the plane and returned with a medical kit, oxygen and AED.  She wedged herself against the seatback in front of Jack and readied the oxygen supply, telling Mary, “The captain will contact ground control for guidance on how to proceed.”  As the oxygen flowed, Jack’s breathing became more regular.  There was a request over the PA for any doctor on board to press their call button, and Mary mentioned to the flight attendant that she was a nurse.  They were both relieved to see that Jack had regained consciousness.  The attendant asked him to chew and swallow an aspirin, and Jack complied.  Now the captain announced that due to a medical emergency they would be making an unscheduled stop in Kansas City;  everyone should remain in their seats with belts fastened, and the crew should prepare for landing.

The descent was rapid and bumpy, then at last they were safely on the ground and the captain taxied to the gate without delay, instructing that everyone continue to remain in place until he gave the word.  Once the jetway was attached Mary saw two men in blue scrubs, gloves and masks speaking with crew members at the front of the plane before wheeling a narrow gurney down the aisle.  They expertly lifted Jack onto the bed and retraced their steps along the aisle.  The captain announced that the plane would be on the ground for a while before continuing on to LAX, so passengers could go into the airport but should return to the gate for updated status in an hour’s time.

Mary remained in her seat, feeling dazed as the passengers around her stood to disembark.  A flight attendant came from the back of the plane and sat with Mary, reassuring her that Jack was in good hands now and thanking Mary for her prompt action.  Mary reflected that when she was imagining everything that could go wrong on today’s flight, this was certainly not one of them.  She felt happy that her flight buddy from the check-in line was seated in her row, and proud to have overcome her fears and done the right thing when the situation demanded.  Now she could try to calm down a bit and stretch her legs in the airport.

An hour later the gate agent announced that they would be reboarding the plane shortly.  The passengers returned to their seats and before long they were airborne.  Mary was pleasantly surprised to feel less anxiety this time around, both during take-off and as they were once again buffeted by the storm.  She put this down to the aftermath of the trauma she had experienced with Jack’s heart attack, finding herself now consumed more by concern for his recovery than by the violent turbulence.  Thirty minutes later they emerged from the storm and the rest of the flight to LAX was calm and uneventful.

Once checked into her hotel room, Mary laid down on the bed and replayed the drama in her mind.  She couldn’t have done any more, the crew had reacted with textbook efficiency, and as far as she knew the airport medics had moved Jack to a fully equipped medical facility where he was now in expert care.  All the same, Mary was frustrated to be so far away and with no means of contact.  She tried calling the airline and customer service at Kansas City airport, but was met with only a wall of silence in the name of patient confidentiality.  Reluctantly, she turned her attention to the conference materials and dozed off until dinner time.

Mary was up and dressed early the next morning, not least because of the three-hour time zone change from the east coast.  She walked down to the conference center and helped herself to the impressive breakfast buffet.  The conference kicked off with a plenary session before breaking into smaller groups to focus on specific topics.  Mary usually enjoyed these workshops but today her mind was distracted by frequent thoughts of Jack.  Then during the lunch break her cellphone rang with an unknown number, and rather than letting it go to voicemail she picked up and listened as a slightly familiar voice asked if this was Mary.

“Hello stranger,” he said.  “I just wanted to check in, and the airline gave me your number.”

“Jack!” replied Mary.  “Never mind me, how are you doing?  I was so worried.”

“I’m all good, thanks to you and everyone who’s been looking after me.  They say I’ll be out of here in a day or two.  I’m just gonna fly back to Philly and then pick up on business next week, working from home at first.”

“That’s fantastic, I’m so relieved!”

“I was wondering if we could meet up sometime, seeing as I had to leave in a bit of a hurry.”

“Of course,” said Mary, “I’d love that.  Please do call me as soon as you feel up to it. I’ll be home on Friday.”   

She smiled and thought, “Now I can finally enjoy the conference!”