Adrift
Copyright© 2025 by Gina Marie Wylie
Chapter 4
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” a warm, pleasant voice spoke over the intercom. “I’m your Captain, Roger Parker. My First Officer is Tom Grant, and Juan Dominguez is our Flight Engineer today. Jonathan Cartwright is the purser.”
There were a few seconds of silence, then a different voice. “Tom Grant, First Officer. Our flight time today will be eleven hours, twenty-five minutes. I’ll tell you the truth, the jet stream has swung a little south. If it swings much further, our arrival time might be delayed by as much as an hour. Right now, it’s raining in Samoa and will be raining tomorrow afternoon as well. Like as not, when we arrive first thing in the morning, it will be mostly clear, with scattered clouds.”
Bess was a little surprised; after the takeoff, Griff had started talking to the man next to him, the one he’d called “jarhead.” The man who’d been obscenely rude to Griff in reply. They were talking about the Lakers and Clippers, and the terrible year both teams were having. It turned out the other man was an Angels fan as well -- at least the Angels were doing well for the second year in a row.
Why, Bess wondered, would you be interested in talking to someone who’d cussed you out a few moments before?
After a bit, Griff turned back to her, and the newlyweds talked about their sightseeing plans for the next few days. Finally, Bess couldn’t stand it and leaned close. “I thought you and that guy were going to duke it out for a minute.”
He laughed and shook his head, surprising her again with his reply. “Don’t talk about it, okay? Please?” He saw the question on her face, and his voice dropped again to something just barely audible. “He’s like, on duty, if you get my drift.”
There was a pop of the intercom. “This is Captain Parker. We’ve reached our cruising altitude of forty-six thousand feet.” There was a pause. “I’ve turned out the seatbelt light, and I know you’ve heard the warnings a million times, but I’ll repeat them: unless you are getting up, make sure your seatbelt is fastened.”
Griff grimaced and turned and said something to the man next to him. The man shrugged and looked away. Griff stared at him curiously for a second.
Bess wondered why the Marine was in plain clothes? Were they expecting trouble after all? Bess tried to calm herself. The man who was evidently a Marine didn’t look nervous or worried. What could one man do, even a Marine?
Harry glanced at Sandy, who sat engrossed in the movie on her laptop, wearing her headphones. At least the dummy had a pillow in her lap, avoiding the nasty burn she got the last time they’d flown and Sandy had watched a movie. Laptops get hot! And Sandy had been too wrapped up in the movie to notice how hot her legs were until it was nearly too late.
It really was true, Harry thought, about boiling frogs.
Harry sighed and then turned and looked out at the light gray sea that stretched in every direction to the horizon, so far below them. Her mind returned to Becky Thatcher. Could she do something as brave as Becky Thatcher had done?
Becky Thatcher was the only survivor from her ship, a ship that collided with a Chinese submarine and sank almost at once. She was the lone survivor, lost in a stormy sea, more than a hundred miles from the nearest land. Becky Thatcher hadn’t, in fact, known what happened until after she was rescued, within sight of Samoa. She’d swum more than a hundred miles through the open, shark-infested ocean with nothing but the sun and stars to guide her.
How easy would it have been to give up? Harry looked at Sandy again and cursed her sister under her breath. Sandy gave up too easily, most times. Yeah, she plays a mean violin, but that’s because she’s a natural musician. She took to it like a duck to water.
Harry could speak a year ahead of Sandy. She knew her parents were afraid Sandy was a retard. Harry knew Sandy wasn’t like that; she was just scared of talking funny -- talking like a baby. Harry had talked like a baby, but she’d try anything. And if she didn’t get it right, she kept trying until she did. Sandy didn’t like to do things unless she got them right the first time.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.