When thing go bad, this is how it starts. Already, some people are filming with their phones.
While Jordan hurries from the back, I whip the man’s hands from my body and guide him back toward his seat. I’m not using force. Yet. But it’s time to get firm. “Sir. Sit. Down.”
The plane lurches again. The man’s temple collideswith the overhead bin. “Ow!” he cries while Jordan quietly deals with the other passenger.
“Serves you right,” snickers the woman sitting in the window seat.
The click of a seatbelt buckle informs me that Jordan has successfully dealt with the second passenger. Then he moves to my side, his thigh at my hip, connecting us like we’re a human fence. It’s enough to lower my cortisol levels a few beats.
“How much longer?” the man whines, sliding back into his seat. He makes a pleading glance at Jordan, like he might give him a better answer. “I gottapee.”
“The pilots will turn off the fasten seat belt sign when it’s safe to get up,” Jordan says in a confident, even tone. “Until then, for your safety and for the safety of others,stay in your seatwith your seat belt securely fastened.”
The plane swoops so suddenly, several passengers gasp. A few of them brace against their seat backs. A baby starts crying from further up the rows. Not surprising, but it’s going to add even more stress to this already tough day that started when I came aboard to find Russel and Eric in the cockpit.
“Can I pee in this bag?” 22C says, yanking out the airsickness bag, his eyes burning with anger.
Like his bare feet aren’t bad enough? “No,” I say.
He grabs his crotch. “If I leak all over this seat, it’s going to be your fault.”
“Fasten your seat belt,” I say just as a suddencrackfollowed by lengthy beat of turbulence rattles the overhead bins and draws another collective gasp of surprise from passengers.
Glaring up at me, 22C clicks his seat belt.
Jordan and I turn and move swiftly for the back of the plane, where we buckle into our harnesses. Thankfully, the other passengers lower their phones.
“You want me to call up front?” Jordan asks, low enough that the other flight attendants can’t hear.
“Please,” I say with a grateful nod.
From the middle of the plane, the baby wails.
Jordan reaches for the receiver and talks into the pilot’s line. The turbulence and roar of the plane back here means I can’t hear what he’s saying, but before Jordan’s barely hung up, Russel’s charismatic voice fills the cabin with an announcement about the turbulence and a reminder to remain seated with seatbelts fastened low and tight across their laps.
Though we clear the turbulence and 22C safely utilizes the restroom, my body is tense and my smile feels forced as Selina and I begin the beverage service. I try to plan it so that I don’t serve the row with the fussing baby, but it happens anyway. The mom is in the middle, and one look at her makes my stomach clench. I know it’s not the same mother, but there are enough similarities. Long dark hair and full lips. The baby has a thin swirl of pale hair, dressed in a yellow sleeper printed with tiny ducks and a binky clipped to the sleeve. The mom keeps trying to put the pacifier in her baby’s mouth while bouncing him, but he keeps spitting it out.
I make eye contact with the man in the window seat. “What can I get you, sir?”
“Coffee,” he says.
I force a slow breath through my nose. “Cream or sugar?” I reach for the cup stacked in the center of the cart, my fingers shaking. On the opposite side of the cart, Selina flashes me a worried look.
“Black,” the man replies.
I focus on pouring the coffee. The plane hits a bump, but rolling with them is one of a flight attendant’s many superpowers, so I manage the task without spilling a drop.
The mom in the middle seat is gently bouncing the baby on her knee.
The man reaches for the coffee, his open palms right over the woman’s lap. Over the baby.
I grip the cup with both hands, bracing my thigh against the wide edge of the seat for extra support.
The baby gives an earsplitting shriek.
The man winces, then rears back just as I lean into the row.
I paint a steady smile on my face while my chest tightens and tingles race over my skin.
