Lodestone

" Airplane! " by Martin Maenza



“There you go, ladies,” a stocky black man dressed in a blue uniform said as he picked up the last two suitcases and placed them on the conveyor behind the counter. “You’re all set.”

“Thanks so much,” Anita Hanson smiled.

“Yes, thank you,” Clare Harper added as she took the small narrow folder with her tickets from the counter.  The two teenaged girls turned to join their third traveling companion who had just placed in her purse a book given to her by the older man standing by her.

“Did you remember ...” Harold Brekmann started to say.

Cynthia stopped him in mid-sentence with a finger to his lips.  “You’ve asked me this like fifteen times already.  We go through this every time I make a trip out there.”  She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.  “I’ll be fine.”

The man in his early forties gave the young brunette a quick hug.  “I know, honey.”  He realized the other two girls had joined them and released his embrace.  “You make sure to show your friends all the sights, okay?”  Cynthia nodded and started to walk away.  Harold reached for her hand to get her attention once more.  “And, uh... could you also...”  He fumbled for the words.

Cynthia nodded again.  “Yes, Daddy, I’ll tell her you said ‘hello’.”  She smiled and her father smiled back.  “Try not to eat out every night while I’m gone, okay?  Fast food equals fat food.   I put up a couple casseroles in the freezer for you, and there are makings for salads in the fridge.”

Harold made a gesture across his chest, just below the shirt pocket.  “I’ll behave, I promise.  You better get going.” 

“Okay, Daddy,” Cynthia said.  “Love you.”

“Me too, kiddo.”

“Bye, Mr. Brekmann,” both Anita and Clare said.  The three then turned and started to walk off.

“Have fun, girls,” Harold called as they went.    He watched as his daughter and her two friends from high school head for the escalator that would take them up to their gate.  They grow up so fast.

The girls chatted away as they walked down the concourse. 

“So, what book did he give you?” Clare asked.

“It’s Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney,” Cynthia responded.  “He’s one of Daddy’s favorite authors.  I prefer books I’ve read a few times when flying cross country.  You know, reading I don’t have to concentrate too much on.”

“I hear that,” Anita said.  “I’ve got a bunch of magazines to pour through while we fly out to Del Oeste.  Plenty enough for the five hour flight: Teen People, Cosmo, and Seventeen.”

“Yeah, if you can get past drooling all over those pictures of the Backstreet Boys...”  Clare gave her black friend a slight elbow.  It was all part of the light-natured ribbing the two childhood friends shared.

“Keep it up, girlfriend,” Anita mocked back in fun, “and you won’t get to share any of these.”  The two laughed.  “Say, Clare, did you remember to leave the present for your parents?”

“Present?” Cynthia asked.

“Yeah, it’s their anniversary today,” Clare answered.  “Over 20 years.”

“That’s awesome,” Anita said.  “Do they still, you know…”

“What?” Clare asked.

“You know,” Anita said, “P.D.A.”

“Yeah, it can be embarrassing sometimes,” Clare replied.

Anita continued her stream of questions.  “So, any idea what they…?”

Cynthia turned away as her friend continued to speak, tuning the conversation out a bit.  She felt a bit of sadness welling up.  Keep it together, she thought to herself.  You should be over this anyway.  But, try as she might, Cynthia always felt a little melancholy when she was heading back to Del Oeste to see her mother.  It always reminded her of when her parents split up and the circumstances surrounding the breakup.  She hoped that maybe bringing her friends out with her might make the trip go a bit better.  Time would tell. 

Neither Anita nor Clare noticed this. “I’m sure they have something fun planned to celebrate...”



***



“Kyle, are you ready to go?  We don’t want to miss our reservation,” the blonde woman said as she entered the family room while slipping the post of her right earring through her lobe and into the small backing clip behind.  Beverly Harper was dressed in a peach blouse and a black knee-length skirt.  Once her earring was in place, she noticed that her husband had not yet responded to her question.  His eyes were glued to the television screen.  “Kyle?”  She stepped between him and the screen.

“Honey, sorry,” the brown haired man in a navy blue suit said.  “I just got caught up in the news.”

“What’s so fascinating?” she asked as she turned around.  As soon as she registered what the announcer was saying, she too paused.

“..morrow marks the twenty-first anniversary of the invasion from space that changed the lives and the landscape of our world,” the news anchor said with an unemotional tone. He looked so young.  It was surprising if this guy even was old enough to remember the horrible events. “So many were lost in the…”

Kyle Harper clicked the remote, shutting off the squawking box.  “Sorry, about that,” he said as he rose from the couch.

“Don’t be,” Beverly replied.  “I’m sure we’re not the only couple in the world who shares their anniversary with such a dark day in history.”

“I know,” her husband said as he put his arms about her.  “It’s hard to forget about it, but for once I’d like to be able to.”

Beverly smiled at her husband.  “It’s part of who we were,” she said.  “And for some that day, it’s a good thing we were who we were…”



***



July, 1977.


The Boeing 707 lurched to the right and down, causing the hundred or so passengers aboard to react negatively and vocally.

“What was that?” one woman exclaimed.

“Did we hit something?” a man asked.

“What could we hit flying over the ocean?” his wife asked.

“Stewardess!  Stewardess!” another man called out.

“Oh dear, God!” a woman muttered softly.  “We’re going to die.”

A tall woman with dark hair pulled back behind her head, dressed in a light brown and yellow uniform, moved down the aisle of the plane.  “Everyone, please, remain in your seats and remain calm.  I’m sure it’s just a bit of turbulence is all…”  She glanced over her shoulder towards the front of the plane, hoping that the pilot or co-pilot or anyone would come over the loud speaker and explain what was going on.

A young Kyle Harper leaned close to the blonde woman sitting next to him and spoke to her in a whispered tone.  “That wasn’t turbulence, Bev,” he said to his new bride.  He lifted the thin plastic blind that covered the window.  In the pitch black night sky, he thought he saw some lights disappearing fast in the distance.  He then glanced back to the wing section.  After squinting a bit at it, something didn’t seem right.  “I think something big hit us.”

“Kyle, you’re overreacting,” a young Beverly Harper replied.

The small jet lurched again.  The stewardess barely kept her balance by grabbing the seat back in front of them.  The passengers started to murmur again. 

Then, the airplane’s intercom system clicked on.  “This is your captain speaking,” the male voice over the speakers said, trying to keep a soothing tone.  It seemed to help.  They had heard the captain earlier in the flight after they had gotten to cruising altitude.  Passengers tended to respond positively to a voice of authority.  “Everyone please remain seated.  We’ve hit a bit of a rough patch is all and…”

A second voice could be heard in the back.  “Jim, listen to this.  The radio transmissions are all garbled, like something out of…”

The captain’s voice cut back in, a little more frustrated in his voice.  “We’ll be back with you all in a moment.  Thank you for your cooperation.”  The intercom cut out.

Kyle stared at Beverly.  She had an odd look to her face – one where she appeared to be focusing on things of which most others had no awareness.  He had seen this look before, but usually it was when they were dressed in their other, costumed identities.  Kyle gave her a moment to sort out what was registering to her special senses.  “Honey, what is it?”

She closed her eyes for a second, concentrated and then opened them again.  “Something doesn’t ‘feel’ right,” she said.  “You know how in-tune I am to directions and such…”

“And you thought I was overreacting,” he said as he unfastened his seatbelt.

“Kyle, where do you think you’re going?”

“You said it yourself that something doesn’t ‘feel’ right.”  He made a quotations gesture with his fingers when he said the second to last word.  “That’s good enough for me.  I’m going to see what’s going on.”  He stood up from his seat and slipped past his wife to get into the aisle.

The stewardess turned from the passengers she was talking to and noticed Kyle’s actions.  “Sir, you have to take your seat,” she insisted.  “It’s for your own safety while we’re flying through the rough spots.”

Kyle clutched his stomach.  “Bathroom…emergency…” he said as he tried to move past her in sort of a rush.  She stepped aside and let him head towards the front of the plane.   The brown haired young man had to suppress a smile.  No one ever questions the ‘bathroom…emergency’ excuse.

Beverly Harper watched her man go.   I hope he doesn’t get into trouble, she thought to herself.  With a slight sigh, she leaned back against the headrest, closed her eyes and tried to clear her head.  She attempted to block out the panicked voices around her, focusing just on the hum of the engines.  It was a kind of form of meditation that she would use.

She breathed slowly and concentrated.

Her eyes opened suddenly.   There’s that feeling again.

She closed her eyes again and let out a feint magnetic trace about her and into the plane structure itself.  She put herself in-tune to the metal that made up the craft and extended the reach of her awareness out from the main cabin itself, towards the back and through the wings.

There!  I can feel it! Part of the plane feels stress.

The plane jerked again, and Beverly could feel the shift.  Her powers gave her a sense of the magnetic lines of Earth below them, and the plane seemed to cross them uncharacteristically.  The plane was in trouble – she could feel it!  If the pilots can’t do something, I might have to, she thought.  The question is what?

Kyle Harper meanwhile had reached the front of the plane and the door to the cockpit.  His hand was on the door when the plane jerked.  The motion and his enhanced strength was enough to pop the door open.  He stumbled into the small area, using his skills to barely keep himself standing despite the plane’s unexpected motions.

“You can’t be in here!” the co-pilot exclaimed as he bolted up from his seat.  “Get back to your…”

The plane bucked again.  Both Kyle and the co-pilot lost their footing, the latter’s head bounced up against the wall.  “Ralph!” the captain shouted from his chair.

Kyle was at the co-pilot’s side and caught him as he fell.  “I have him!”  He eased the man back to his seat, and that is when he noticed the gash on the man’s temple that was started to give forth a flow of crimson blood.  “He’s hurt.”

“He wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t burst in here!” the pilot exclaimed as he kept his eyes on the controls.  The plane jerked once more.

Kyle pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, putting it to the co-pilot’s temple, and applied pressure.  “We’ve got bigger problems than this,” he said.  “Be honest: something hit this plane and has caused us some serious damage, right?”

The pilot swallowed and made a decision.  “You know anything about planes?”

“Enough,” Kyle said.

“Close that door,” the pilot said. 

Kyle reached back with one hand while still holding the cloth to the wound with the other.  The cockpit door shut behind him.  “Well?”

“Something did hit us,” the pilot said.  “We don’t know what, we don’t know how.  Whatever it was came up on us fast, faster than the radar could track!  We’ve been flying lame since.”  He checked some gauges and then pulled back on the flight stick.  His expression went grim.

Kyle noticed the look.  “What is it?”

“Damn it!” the pilot exclaimed.  He pounded his fist against the stick.  “I’ve lost response!”

Kyle saw a similar stick in front of the unconscious co-pilot.  He quickly lifted the man from the seat and put him carefully on the floor.  Then he hopped into the vacant seat.  “Let me try.”

“You know what you’re doing?”

“You’ll talk me through it,” Kyle said.  “Besides, it looks like you could use all the extra hands you can get right now.”

The captain thoroughly examined the man who had joined him.  Clearly, whoever this guy was, he was calm in the face of eminent danger.  That’s what was needed at a time like this.  “Okay,” the pilot said.  He turned back to his navigational systems and examined the attitude and altitude indicators.  “We need to keep the plane from going into a barrel roll, keep her level.”  Again, he pulled on the stick before him but could not budge it.

Kyle took the stick on his side and tried to do exactly what the pilot had tried before.  He could feel the resistance.  He applied some of his own enhanced strength and felt it give ever so slightly.  Okay, now we’ve got a chance. 

The pilot watched the altitude gauge again and seemed surprised and a bit relieved.  “You’re doing it!  I don’t know how, but you are.”  He checked the attitude gauge once more.  “If we can level out and hold a course for just a little bit, we might make it to one of the air strips on one of the outer lying islands.”

After thinking for a moment, Kyle spoke up again.  “Can you get one of the stewardesses in here?”

“Sure,” the pilot said, “but why?  Now’s not the right time for a drink.”

“Just do it.  Trust me.”

A few moments later, the dark haired woman came and then soon left the cockpit.  She moved down the aisle, ignoring the questions of the passengers without appearing too panicked.  She then stopped at the row where Beverly Harper was seated.  “This is for you,” she said, handing a folded note to the blonde.

“Thanks,” Beverly said.  She waited a moment for the woman to move away and then opened it so only she could read it.


Bev, I’ll level with you.  We could use some help telling up from down. Follow?   – Kyle.


 She folded the note quickly and put it into her pocket.  She nodded silently to herself.  I’m not sure what you’re up to, Kyle, she thought to herself, but I know exactly what you want from me.

Beverly closed her eyes and concentrated again.  Not only do I need to get our bearings, I’ve also got to try and get this craft leveled out.  She extended her magnetic field, slowly and carefully, until it began to encompass the framework of the cabin about her.

An act like this required complete control on her part.  Too little, and she would have not effect on the situation at all.   Too much, and she could end up tearing the whole plane apart.  Neither of those would insure the safe-being of the passengers and crew of the flight.

Good thing I have a solid understanding of physics, Beverly thought.  That was her area of study in college, and she had recently enrolled in a program to get her teaching credentials.

Beverly concentrated with her magnetic powers, visualizing what she was trying to do.  The magnetic energy about her focused, aligned, to her vision.  She could feel the craft shift ever so slightly, moving in the flow of the magnetic field she had created. 

Beads of sweat formed on her brow.  She was doing it, but it was taxing her. 

Got to keep this up, at least long enough for Kyle to do what he can.  The thought of her newlywed husband gave her the extra strength to keep going on.

Up in the cockpit, the captain couldn’t believe his eyes.  The gauges had changed the message they had been giving him; he prayed they were right.  “We appear to be leveling off!” he exclaimed.  “With only one fully working engine, I don’t know how that’s possible.  But it is happening.”

Kyle tried his best not to smile like a Cheshire cat.  “We must have a guardian angel looking out for us,” he said.  A blonde one at that.

“I don’t care how it’s happening,” the pilot continued, “but if we can just hold out for another five minutes we should make it to the Virgin Islands.”

The injured co-pilot on the floor groaned as he came to.  “Oooh…what happened?”  He started to rise slowly, and then paused to steady himself against the wall.   His blurry eyes focused, and he noticed another man sitting in his seat.  “Jim, what’s going on?”

“Ralph, are you okay?” the pilot asked without taking his eyes off the controls.

“I could use a few dozen aspirin,” he said as he touched his temple.  When he pulled his hand away, he saw the blood on his hand.  “And some stitches no doubt.”

“Then just stay there,” Jim replied.  “We’ll get you some help as soon as we land.  This man here is helping me get us on the ground.”

“Are you still getting gibberish on the radio?” Ralph asked.

“Honestly, I haven’t checked in a bit,” the captain replied.  “We’ve been so busy keeping the craft from diving into the drink.”

“What kind of gibberish?” Kyle asked.

“No language I’ve ever heard,” the co-pilot replied.  “Whatever it was - it bled across the channels.  That happened right after we were hit.”

Kyle focused on the task at hand.  Whatever it was that ran into the plane and how it was tied to the odd communications - that mystery would have to wait.  Right now they had to get on the ground in one piece.  He silently thanked his wife for her aid in the process.  It was lucky for the people of flight 1017 that Magnet and Steel were on board.

A short while later, the newlywed couple from Victoria, Georgia, regrouped in the terminal.  “I’m not sure if we can get another flight tonight to our final destination,” Beverly said.  “But we can certainly try.”

“I can’t even think about that right now,” Kyle said.  He noticed the small bar in the terminal and took his wife’s hand.  “Come on.”

Beverly fumbled a second as her small roller carry-on bag dragged behind her.  “Kyle, wait.”  She saw where he was taking them.  “You want to get a drink?  I agree, that was rather a white-knuckle end of the flight but still…”

“Not a drink,” Kyle said as they entered the little establishment.  He moved in to where they could get a good view of the television propped behind the bar.  There was a news report on.  Looking over to the bartender, he said, “Can you turn that up a bit please?”

The man nodded, honored the request and then went back to pouring a beer.

“I think it’s too soon to have made the news,” Beverly said.

“Shhh,” Kyle said.

The two watched quietly as the reporter outlined the situation that was transpiring around the world.  Alien crafts from another world appeared in the lower atmosphere about the globe.  The count was continuing to rise by the minute as reports came in from every continent.

“My God,” Beverly gasped.

“That explains the hit and the gibberish,” Kyle said.

“We’ve got to get a flight,” she said.

“To Barbados?” Kyle asked.

“No,” Beverly said.  “Back to the States.  We’ve got to see what we can do to help.”

Kyle Harper smiled and gave his bride a huge hug.  This was the third time in the last twenty four hours he was so pleased that she was now his wife.



***



July, 1998.


Kyle Harper gave his wife a great big hug and kiss.

“What’s that for?” Beverly asked.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he explained.  “And I am so very happy that we’ve been together all these years.”

Beverly smiled as her cheeks blushed with color.  “Same here, sweetheart,” she said.  “We’re a team, you know.  Always have been and always will be.”  She gave him a passionate kiss in return.

“Now, I believe someone was taking someone out for an anniversary dinner…” she said with a smile.



***



Cynthia had put aside her book and closed her eyes an hour into the flight.  Her plan to get a little snooze in as they crisscrossed the time-zones wasn’t going as well as she hoped.  Clare and Anita continued to pour through the magazines the latter had brought, and occasionally the two would break into chatter back and forth over something they had read or something that had come to mind.

It was pretty clear to anyone who spent enough time around them that Clare and Anita were close.  It didn’t take Cynthia but a few days in her new school in Victoria to realize that.  And maybe that was part of what gravitated her to the two girls to begin with.  Having to move across country with her father so that he could continue his career was hard for her.  She left her old school behind and the few friends she had.  Granted, they weren’t childhood friends like her two traveling companions were, and perhaps that was one reason it made moving so easy.

The other reason was just to get away – away from the gossipy whispers, the staring and the finger-pointing.  Cynthia was so tired of all that, and the change meant a fresh start where no one knew about her and the past and situations she didn’t like discussing.

She hoped that by asking the girls to join her for this trip that things would be different.  It has to be, she thought.  It just has to be.



(to be continued)