Elevator

I was drifting in and out of a half-sleep. We were 3 hours into our flight and the drone of the engines acted like white noise in the dark cabin. I needed to stretch but didn’t want to disturb the others in my row. I lifted my arms above my head and stretched my legs under the seat to get blood flowing. I glanced to the right at my neighbor in the middle seat. He had his headphones on and was splayed in a contorted position-fast asleep. I’ll be fine for a while, so I stayed put. I decided to check our flight status on the screen in the seat in front of me. I knew we were over water; our flight left London in route to Atlanta at midnight and my phone said it was 3 AM. 

The pilot came on the loudspeaker in a calm professional voice to warn us that we were headed for some turbulence. “Please stay in your seats and buckle your seatbelts” he cautioned.  It got progressively worse and it felt like we were losing altitude too. “Ladies and gentlemen, the storm is worse than anticipated so please remain seated.” There was a much different sound in his voice this time, and besides, to unbuckle now would likely throw you into the ceiling or across the aisle. The shuddering grew more intense and I could definitely feel the nose of the plane tilting forward. “This is not good” I thought to myself. I had been to a conference in London and had decided to stay an additional day. I wanted to see Abbey Road, and because I had never been that close before I thought “What the hell!” In hindsight this may not have been a good choice. If I had stuck to the original schedule, I’d be home with a drink in my hand…

The oxygen mask hit me in the face-startling me. “Shit” I said out loud. The guy next to me was texting someone furiously and the lady in the aisle seat was hugging herself and crying. “Hey, you need to put your masks on” I told my neighbors. The guy kept texting and she kept crying. I had been on bumpy flights before but nothing like this and was finding it difficult to stay optimistic. “Ladies and gentlemen;” the pilot was stuttering a bit now. “We need to prepare for a possible water landing and remember, each seat cushion is a flotation device.” “Ok” I thought. “What is in my carryon that I can’t live without?” “What am I saying?” “I will likely be dead, so that is really a stupid question” I was speaking out loud now to no one in particular. The texting guy was crying now; and trying to show me pictures of his dog. The crying lady was texting now and saying something about how her husband would probably run-off with his secretary. “Fuck Him!” she shouted. 

Somehow the pilots had leveled the plane enough, so we didn’t hit the water nose first. The screams were deafening. When the forward motion of the landing stopped so did some of the screaming. The front of the plane had taken the brunt of the crash and was taking on water. I was feeling lucky-when I changed my flight, I had given up business class which was now filling with seawater-and floating bodies. My window seat looked over the wings which were acting as buoys now; giving me extra, possibly lifesaving, minutes. The texting guy was unconscious. “Hey!” “Hey, buddy come on let’s go!” I shouted. He was out like a light and the crying lady was gone. She had unbuckled her seatbelt and the violent crash had sent her hurtling towards the front. I exhaled.  I stood in a crouched position and ripped my cushion out. The screaming was mostly sobs-and creaking metal.  I crawled over texting guy who was still unconscious. I reached down and unbuckled his belt. “He’ll have a better chance if he can get out of his seat” I thought. Everything was like slow-motion. Some people were moving in whatever random direction that thought they could exit. Everyone was stunned and in a state of shock; many injured, some minor like me and others broken and bleeding. I wanted to help but was unsure how. I needed to find a way out before I could attempt helping anyone. Surprisingly there was little smoke in the cabin, so my sightline was clear, but it was pitch-black outside. I noticed several people trying to open a bulk-head door and headed towards them. “If we could get out, maybe we could climb on the wing until we were rescued” I thought. Our group by the door was calm and measured; realizing we may be the only survivors and needing to help each other escape. There were six of us; four men and two women. Two of the guys were big; they commented they played rugby in Ireland and were headed to America to talk to the Atlanta Falcons. “If you can’t get the door open, we haven’t a chance” I said, looking them in the eyes. “We got this mate!” They both shouted in unison. As one pushed, the other pulled, finally breaking the seal. The seawater was about six feet from the door opening and was churning and splashing against the remains of the fuselage. After pushing the door open, we all looked back into the cabin; now filling quickly with water, scanning for survivors. A loud whistle next to me came from one of the ladies. “This is the way out!” “If anyone can hear this it’s the way out!” She whistled again while we anxiously looked for anyone needing help. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity while she continued to whistle. We could see the water level was rising rapidly and needed to get out. There was fear and sadness in all our eyes; we nodded at each other and started to jump. 

The water was cold, and if I thought I would be too tired, the shock of being submerged quickly in the ocean brought me back to reality.  Thinking we could climb on a wing gave us the courage to open the door and jump but it was evident it wouldn’t be easy. The whistling lady was surprisingly agile and was able to pull herself onto the wing. The other lady followed suit, with the assistance of whistling lady. The rugby guys had drifted 50 yards from the plane and were flailing in the choppy water. The other guy in our group was being pulled onto the wing by the ladies. I’m not a great swimmer; combined with mounting fear of drowning, made it increasingly difficult to tread water. “Calm, buddy” “Try to slow your heartbeat and focus!” I kept repeating this over and over. Somehow it was working. It was still choppy as hell but as I clung to my little cushion, I tried to regulate my breathing. I could see a growing flotsam of luggage and personal belonging surround me-bobbing up and down in the water. It was quiet now. The plane was starting its decent into the ocean now and everything close to an opening in the plane starting drifting away. I could see more cushions and as calmly as I could keep myself, I paddled towards them. I now had a quartet of them and felt almost euphoric. The threesome on the wing had stopped shouting for me to join them. Maybe they didn’t see me anymore and thought I was gone. The rugby guys had disappeared; I could tell earlier they weren’t doing well. I felt particularly bad for them; without their brute strength the door would have never opened. “I am glad I got to see Abbey Road” I told my new cushion friends. As I continued surveying all the debris, something caught my eye. “It’s crying lady.” Unbuckling her belt was a big mistake; she may be alive now… The sunrise had begun lighting the crash site, revealing more than I wanted to see. Our plane was half full at takeoff and only six had survived the crash. Of those, there was four left. All those other poor souls were now floating amongst the bags and packages. A deep groaning had started in the distance. It kept building in intensity; I knew it was the plane and knew it meant it was going to sink soon. “What about the people on the wings?” “I hope they have a plan” My cushion friends didn’t answer-they didn’t have to. I could see their silhouettes on the wing, and none were holding anything. Without a cushion they would only have minutes in the water. “God, I hope they find something that floats.” With that came a sickening groan as the nose of the plane headed down; slowly pointing the tail in the air. I think those on the wing jumped in before the plane totally disappeared, at least I hope so…

“I’m it.” I said to my only surviving friends. “I hope they are looking for us-I mean me.” The finality of that statement brought tears to my eyes. I was getting cold and concerned about hypothermia. I made sure my cushion friends were secured to my chest, back and both arms because I was tired and might unintentionally drift off, and without them I was dead. 

The undulating water was oddly hypnotic, rocking me to sleep.

A loud cawing startled me; as I looked up and around, I saw seagulls. For a split-second I had forgotten the crash and wondered why I was wet. “Wow, how long did I sleep?” As I surveyed the distance there was no sight of anything other than random pieces of luggage. “The plane is really gone.” “Where are we?” I asked my cushion friends, hoping they would know. They kept quiet. As I slowly paddled to get a 360-degree view, I was shocked as my rotation continued. It was an island. It wasn’t particularly large so I didn’t expect to see people, but maybe I can find something to eat. I hadn’t eaten on the plane; I grabbed a bran muffin and a latte before boarding. I had a decent dinner the night before and thought I’d last until I landed. That was an eternity ago and I was hungry. “Guys, do you think there is a banana tree?” They continued their silence. I started paddling with more effort now that I saw land. When I felt my feet touch ground under the water, I got excited, and quickly waded to the beach. I exhaled and fell to my knees; bowing my head in an uncharacteristic prayer. I then fell backwards, laying on the warm sand looking at the sky. “I wonder how long they will look for survivors?” “I wonder if I really am the only one?” My friends remained silent. As good as it felt laying there with the sun on my face, I was hungry and needed to see what I could find. I stood; stretching my arm to the sky and twisting side to side, finally bending over to touch my toes. “That felt amazing.” “Let’s go for a walk.” Walking along the beach I looked for anything that appeared edible. As I continued walking, I noticed something in the brush about 25 yards inland. As I got closer, I could see it was a wooden boat. The tide had erased any evidence of how it ended up there; I imagined it was dragged here from the water, but the sand offered no proof. Walking around it revealed no apparent damage. It was empty with no cargo-or oars. “Humm” “I wonder if they are still here?” I asked, again no answer. I had grown fond of my friends but saw no reason to continue carrying them around. “I’m putting you in the boat for safe keeping while I wander around.” If they felt bad, they didn’t say. 

My stomach was starting to ache-I needed something to eat, so I continued my search. It wasn’t a large island, but it did have a mountain in the middle; actually, more of a tall hill, probably 500 feet at its tallest point. “Maybe I should hike to the top to get a better view” I thought. As I headed inland, the palm trees grew denser offering shade from the increasingly hot sun. As I continued my trek, my eyes spotted a tree with much larger leaves. “Banana?” “I hope so!” As I got closer it was a banana tree, and it had fruit!  It is a good thing I like my bananas greener than most; these were lime green and would take time to ripen once I brought them down. I had nothing to cut with and pondered my options. “I could wrap my belt around the stem and pull a bunch down” I sighed. I had grown used to talking to my now missing friends. I hadn’t climbed a tree for decades but was able to shimmy up high enough to attack the bunch I had my eye on. I pulled off my belt; wrapped it around the bunch and started pulling at different angles. After 10 minutes I enjoyed success, watching the bunch fall to the ground. I climbed down to survey my banana bounty and was pleasantly surprised to find two on the bunch had started to ripen. I yanked them off and devoured them. 

It was time to climb the hill. Curiously I found a worn trail that made my ascent easier. “How many feet have traveled this path” I asked myself. I made the climb is less than thirty minutes. I could now see the island was maybe a quarter mile in circumference, and quite round in shape. I put my hand above my eyes to shield the sun and noticed a glimmer on the opposite side I came up. “Let’s see what we’ve got down there.” I appreciated the trail that lead to the top and wasn’t too surprised to find one leading down the other side. Approaching the glimmer, I could now tell it was a metal eyelet on a boat used for the oar. My heartbeat quickened as I could see at least seven boats; all similar in size to the first one I found. These too had been dragged from the water with no evidence left in the sand. They were missing their oars as well. “Where did everyone go?” “There are at least eight people on this island and no sign of them.” “Rescue isn’t imminent, so I keep looking.” “Carefully” I finished. As I continued looking side to side through the trees, I spotted another path; this one almost appeared manicured and orderly. The edges were clean, and the path was covered with raked sand; and no footprints. At fifty yards in, I was facing a sign; a “Welcome” sign. “What the…?” At one hundred yards I was greeted with another sign; “We’ve been expecting you!” “Humm” I exhaled. At one-hundred fifty yards was the strangest sign of them all; “Elevator straight ahead.” The path had began opening up revealing the base of the mountain. The trees had been fairly dense to this point; obscuring the view beyond the path, but now I could clearly see a shiny metal elevator door with a potted flower on either side. There was only one button-Up. I breathed deeply and pushed the button. I could hear a whirring sound behind the large metal door, so I knew it was coming. 

 As the door opened, I was greeted with a well lit and highly polished interior. In the back on a small round table sat a tall ice-tea with a wedge of lemon. As soon as I entered the door closed behind me and a calm voice filled the space. “Welcome.” “We have been expecting you.” “You are likely tired and hungry, so we have your room prepared and lunch is ready.” There was only one button to push-Top. I breathed heavily and pushed the button. The ascent was slow and steady-increasing my anticipation-and anxiety. The door opened into a large cavernous space in the mountain. Straight ahead was an immense opening in the rock filling the space with light and looking onto the ocean. It was spectacular! “Welcome!” “Please have a seat and don’t forget your ice-tea.” I picked up my drink and stepped into the enormous room.  It had highly polished floors with deep plie rugs and over-stuffed seating that appeared expensive. “What is this place?” I asked. “It is a rest area for travelers, like you.” “Are you hungry?” “Of course, you are” He continued. “But you said you were expecting me.”  “How?” “I was in a plane crash and think I’m the only survivor.” “Unfortunately, that is correct” my host replied.  “I saw the boats.” “Where are those people?” “The boats are used when we anticipate groups-we never know.” “We could see you were alone, and the current brought you, so the boats weren’t necessary.” “This is crazy!” “Do you do this alone?” “No sir, I have staff in other quarters that I call when needed.” “Please, you must be famished.” “Would you like a sandwich?” “Yes, I would love something to eat.” A shower would we nice too.” “Of course, have a bite then you can shower and get some rest” my host finished. The shower was long, hot and most welcome. After, I was directed to a room for some needed sleep. I tossed and turned; thinking of what had happened made me restless. 

 “Please fasten your seatbelts and bring your seat to its upright position.” “Turn off all electronic devices.” “We will be landing in Atlanta shortly.” “Thanks for flying Delta.” I stirred. “Huh?” “What?” Beside me, texting guy was looking at dog pictures and crying lady fidgeted. “It was a dream?” “I need that drink…”

The End