Free Fall

He’s a long way from where he started. Not just in this day, but his entire life. Everything floods his mind at once like the wind grasping at his hair. The images and memories pile on top of one another, clamoring to be the last one standing. Peter clenches his eyes against the onslaught; he wants to hold thoughts of his wife close when everything finally goes black.

The wind whips the back of his head as he slumps forward in his seat. His hands clasp together, arms locked around the back of his legs, knees pressed against his chest. His ears ache from the noise. Blood squeezes shards of glass through his veins. He purses his lips tight and, for the first time, actually feels sorry for himself. He can’t believe this is the end. As the final descent into the abyss approaches, his mind wanders to the one thing, maybe the only thing, he’ll actually miss, and the one thing he wished he told her one more time.



***************



The blare of the alarm pierced the still morning at 6:14. It should read 6:10 but Pete was too lazy to fix it. Megan stirred and moaned as she waved a weary arm in the air, the pesky buzz of a mosquito haunting the last strands of her sleep. Peter reached out a reluctant hand and silenced the clock. He rolled over and draped an arm around his wife. She curled into him. He just wanted a few more minutes. The tree-shattered sunlight inched its way along the comforter and nipped the end of his toes peaking out from beneath it.

He was happy. He didn’t know why, but this time everything worked out. Sometimes it didn’t seem real. He liked, no loved, his new job and it paid more than double his previous one. Life was good.

He still owed Ted a great big “thank you.” His best friend for years was always looking out for him and told him about a startup internet company in need of an online consultant. The job was a perfect fit and this weekend he was all set to buy that new car he’d had his eye on for more than a year.

Pete could rebuild, reconfigure, or restart any computer system so his expertise in the customer help department was ideal. The questions he faced on a regular basis ranged from simple and mundane to complicated and detailed. The days always seemed to fly by. This morning, though, all he wanted to do was spend a few more minutes with Megan. He’d miss her tonight. The alarm rang again. Work wouldn’t wait.

As the sun grazed the ceiling fan, lighting the dust puffing off and around it into tiny snowflakes, an obscure notion brushed against his mind. He couldn’t place it, but it felt wrong. Like a foul smell in the walls.

He sat up as troubled thoughts crept over him. He tried to recall his dreams, thinking something followed him out of them. He sighed and slid out of bed. Megan shifted slightly, her curves tempting him to stay, seducing him with long, slow, deep breaths. The rise and fall of her chest, her sultry lips pouting in her slumber.

Peter showered and dressed in his usual slacks and collared shirt and ultimately decided against a tie. He splashed on some cologne bent over to kiss Megan goodbye. He knew he’d miss her, but it would only be one night.

She woke with a healthy smile, wrapped her slender arms around his neck, and drew him to her.

“Call in,” she purred. Sleep still clung to her.

“I can’t,” he replied with a fair amount of effort.

She forced his lips to hers. “Then go in late.”

“Honey, I ca-”

“Tell them the car wouldn’t start.” She began working her hands down his shirt and nibbling on his ear and he nearly fell into her trap. She always could seduce him.

He found some resolve, perhaps hiding under the mattress, and kissed her defiantly and pulled free. “I gotta go. Really.” He backed away and she curled up. He bent down to grab the suitcase he packed the night before and added, “Can’t miss my flight.”

“Love you,” she whispered.

“You too.”

Pete slinked downstairs and fetched the newspaper from the front steps. As he brewed a pot of coffee and toasted an English muffin, he sat down and an article drew him to it.

The NTSB (the National Transportation and Safety Board) announced that three major airlines were operating “unsafe planes” and further inquiries would soon follow. It didn’t explain why they weren’t grounded, it didn’t even tell what was unsafe about them. Pete shivered as tricklets of icy sweat splashed his body. He picked up his boarding pass for later that day and realized the airline he was to fly was one of the carriers.

He shook his head. He was not an avid enthusiast of flying and only managed to get airborne when the need arose. Of course, at work the need has arisen. They wanted to send him to their main terminal center for a three-day seminar but he talked them down to one overnight.

Two cups of coffee, an English muffin, and the sports section later, he headed out. Megan was still asleep, no doubt resting up for her overnight at the hospital. It was an overcast morning, but bright. He squinted against the odd texture of the sky. Lead.

He paused on the stoop and peered up at the bedroom window. A melancholy sadness tapped his shoulder. He grasped the door, ready to slip back upstairs to kiss her once more, but held back. He just didn’t like to fly. As many times as he’d done it, it never felt comfortable. He made it to his car, climbed in, and then rolled out into traffic.

The office brimmed with tense conversation, concerned faces, and phones ringing across a mountain of desks and computers. There was tension beneath the surface that he sensed immediately. Steve, his middle-aged bald boss walked in before Pete even settled. Steve pressed his fine Italian suit and stood somewhat awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hey kid,” Steve said. “Little trouble this morning.”

Peter focused on him as he set his briefcase on the desk. “Got that sense.”

“Knew I hired you for a reason.”

He grabbed one of two leather chairs facing the desk and dropped into it. “I just got off the phone with Nick Scranton, who you’re meeting later.”

Peter dug out the tickets and flapped them in the air. “Yep.”

“Seems we had some sabotage with the mainframe out there. I need you to help fix it.”

“Uh, sure, I guess. I’ll do what I can.” He didn’t want this trip stretching out longer. He had a special anniversary planned for Megan tomorrow night. “I don’t have to ... you know.”

“Stay longer?” Steve shrugged. “Maybe, but I sure hope not. Every day that mainframe is offline I’m losing ten grand.”

“All right. I was just going to gather my things and I’m off.”

“I arranged a limo,” Steve said as he stood up. “Should be here in half an hour.”

“Oh, thanks, sir.”

Steve waved off the gratitude. He offered Pete his hand and Pete shook it. The only other time he shook Steve’s hand was when he hired him. It felt odd this time. Pete’s gaze lingered on the connection before Steve broke it.

“You all right?”

Pete nodded. “Yeah, fine.”

“Okay,” he said though Pete could tell he was curious. The last thing Pete wanted was to have his boss think of him as weak. All he could think of from that moment and through the ride to the airport was that article in the paper. He couldn’t shake it, though he knew he should.

Forty-five minutes later he was standing at the terminal counter in the airport, receiving his boarding pass. A gentle rain had begun to fall and a thin fog was rolling in. He sat down and watched planes taxiing along the runway, what he could still see of them, that is.

A nagging sensation sabotaged his troubled mind. ‘This is a mistake,’ he thought. ‘I shouldn’t go.’ He shook his head to rattle the idea away. He just did not like to fly. That was all. The cogitations soon fluttered into a chorus of forgotten memories, but one remained.

It was faint, but it tugged lightly and relentlessly, even as his row was announced for boarding. He determinately drove that nagging thought back until suddenly, halfway down the ramp, he stopped. He was frozen, wanting to scream. His feet refused to move. He knew, however, that if he didn’t go, it would be the end of his job, and so many of the dreams he had made with Megan.

How would he explain it, anyway? He forced his feet to carry on. They shuffled along the thin carpet until he was finally in his seat.

Pete closed his eyes to calm his nerves. He had been on planes before, this was no big deal. It was just anxiety, nothing more. Everything was going to okay.

Everything was going to be fine.



***************



The screams echo like shattering glass against the rushing air all around. Tears are sucked from the corners of his eyes along the creases and into the gaping hole that was once the tail of the plane.

He’s going to miss Megan. He’s going to miss Sunday mornings, walks in the park, and his guitar. He’s going to miss having kids and watching them grow up.

The seconds draw to a close as the ground rushes up at him. He wishes he had called her one more time. He just didn’t want to wake her.

His lips move, silently mouthing the words:

“I love you.”