I was once a white-knuckled flyer, but I recovered from that a long time ago. These days I am a frequent flyer on multiple airlines with both domestic and international mileage on my accounts.  These days I am a cool customer.

In contrast, the woman beside me is clearly upset.

Well... she’s not exactly beside me.  The center seat is open and she is sitting on the aisle, while I have a window seat.   I usually prefer the aisle as well.  That way I can get up and about without having to wait for anyone and without having to climb over someone. On this redeye, however, I was looking forward to getting some sleep.  I was even happier when I saw that the center seat was empty.  Actually, it’s not a very full flight at all.  I could probably have found an open row toward the back and stretched out completely.  

I was actually going to do that after the Captain turned off the fasten seat belts sign… but I fell asleep almost immediately.

I am awake now.  The turbulence that woke me was apparently of the sneaky variety because the flight attendants were still in the aisle serving beverages.  Maybe I should say they were trying to serve beverages.  The one closest to me was doing a commendable job of fussing and apologizing to a passenger.  It was apparent that she had spilled something in his lap and was offering him handfuls of napkins to enable him to wipe himself off.    

For a fleeting moment, an old comedy scene comes to mind.  It’s the old "bit" portraying the female server in a diner taking it upon herself to aggressively wipe off the stained and soaking wet crotch of the male patron after spilling a bowl or cup of liquid in his lap.  In the "bit" the man says nothing.  He just stares at her as she gradually slows her efforts as it dawns on her that she is in a fairly compromising position.  This is the kind of thing that Lucille Ball would have done, or Debra Messing from “Will & Grace.” 

It’s funny how certain images will come to mind at odd times.  

The flight attendant on the far side of the beverage cart is looking around oddly, as if trying to take stock of the situation.  (Something out of the ordinary woke me up.)  The woman beside me is carefully cradling a hot cup of something.  I’d apparently missed the beverage service because I was … well I was asleep. 

The woman is probably in her forties, and dressed in business attire.  I vaguely recall seeing her in the terminal lounge.   By reflex I’d sized her up and decided that she was younger than I was which was good, and wearing a wedding ring which made her simply part of the scenery. There was nothing else.  I must have dozed off even before she was seated.     

She looked over at me now and smiled a rueful smile, but she was uncomfortable.  Then I felt the plane rumble and shake.  That’s when I first really understood that we were flying through turbulence.  Turbulence is a common occurrence.  I had one of those little white pillows curled up on my shoulder, so now I began to resettle it so I could doze off again. 

Then the seat and the floor beneath me gave way … and left my stomach several feet higher than I was.   The drop was accompanied by a deep rumbling noise, more shaking and screams.  I was buckled in, but still found myself reaching out to clutch something that simply wasn’t there.

Only once before had I felt turbulence like this.  That had also been a night flight and it had scared me badly.   But then I’d been a child and really didn’t know better.   This time however, I saw something that I genuinely didn’t like.  I saw fear on the face of one of the flight attendants. 

As they were fumbling about, the Captain’s voice came on over the intercom. 

“As you can see we are experiencing a bit of turbulence.  If you will return to your seats and make sure that your seat belts are all securely fashioned, I’m going to ask our flight attendants to suspend our beverage service for now, and ask them to take a seat until we can find a bit of smooth air.”

As the attendants began quickly moving the beverage cart toward the back of the plane, they were briefly rendered helpless as yet another more violent series of quakes literally took them off their feet.  I watched as one man grabbed one flight attendant as she seemed to be completely thrown askew.  Admittedly, I could not see what was happening to the other one, because I’d been violently rocked as well.  

Several things happened simultaneously.  My seat mate had been trying to finish her coffee or tea or whatever she was drinking, before we were struck by more turbulence.  Failing to accomplish this, she spilled the remaining fluid down the front of her suit and in her lap.  It apparently was not hot.  She was also apparently too frightened by the plight of the plane to worry about the stains either.   The tray in front of me popped open on its own accord.  The screams were accompanied by a background drone of conversation … which was only slightly audible behind the continuing rumble and blundering of the turbulence.  

Now I also heard thunder for the first time.  I raised my window shade and could see rain trails on the outside of the thick double plexi-glass.  In the distance I could see clouds in silhouette as lightning struck somewhere.   This was more bad news.  It wasn’t raining when I’d driven to the airport and knew nothing of expectations of foul weather.   I closed the shade again. 

On the other side of the aisle, sitting alone was yet another woman in more casual attire.  She was a stout woman with curly hair.  She was grinning as she looked around to note the expressions on the faces of her fellow travelers... as I was doing.  Although I didn’t think I was grinning.  For a moment we looked at each other and she grinned more broadly and shook her head as if this sort of thing happens to her all the time. 

Then I looked at my seatmate again.  The woman looked positively stricken.   She had put up her tray table, and was gripping both arm rests tightly.  Her head was back against the seat and she was looking upward as if earnestly looking at something.  There was nothing there. 

Had she looked at me, I would have shown her my best game face, secure in the knowledge that these things really do happen all the time, and the people at the helm know how to deal with such occurrences.  

Then the plane shook violently again and dipped as if a giant hand had reached out and grabbed it in the air … and wrenched it from it prior position in the sky.  The woman beside me uttered a shriek that would have been lost along with all of the other cries from our passengers, had she not been sitting right next to me.   For a moment she had closed her eyes, but now her eyes flew open and she turned and looked at me.  There was desperation on her face.  

The turbulence was by far worse than anything that I could recall, but the rest of the passengers appeared to be coping with it.  This woman had progressed directly to panic.   It occurred to me briefly that I might be more reassuring for her if I moved over into the center seat, but I genuinely did not want to undo my seat belt.   The turbulence had started with individual quakes and tremors, but now the turbulence was non-stop.  The continuous battering was beginning to get to me as well, so I was certain that she was struggling. 

As we seemed to drop swiftly once again, she reached out for me, and I took her hand as if we had discussed it and agreed that this is what we should do.   It occurred to me that I liked the idea of holding her hand right then and wondered if she was the only one in need of human comfort.  

Headlines flashed through my mind.  I saw images of my children and my parents.  I thought about the possibility of plunging out of the sky and crashing in the mountains somewhere.  (The only thing I did know about our route is that we would not be over any oceans.) I thought about my divorce and the pain of separation and loneliness, and I thought that this would at least put an end to that. 

And end to loneliness?  No more false hopes and unfulfilled nights.  And end to the burden of full responsibility for everything that happens in the household.  This would all be out of my hands anyway.  Did I leave any embarrassing stuff in my house for my family to find?   Was this my opportunity to die well like the movie stars do? 

Oh, hell no!   I want to live.   I do not want this plane keep misbehaving like this. 

The captain is on the intercom again.  He is apologizing for his inability to find the right altitude.   Ordinarily this would have been reported in advance and could have been avoided altogether, but it wasn’t so we may have to endure the rockin’ and the rollin’ for a while longer.  

The plane was then snatched again.  I could visualize a giant creature from the early Japanese movies holding the plane and shaking it fiercely.  Now my seat partner was holding my hand in both of hers and was holding it up against her forehead with her head down.   I stared for just a moment until I realized that she was praying. 

God?  I had not considered him… or her.  If ever there was a time to renounce sexist viewpoints, this was it.   It’s been years since I've gone to church except to accompany my parents, weddings or funerals.   It just never worked for me.  The whole concept of praying always left me with a hypocritical taste in my mouth.  I’d been brought up and confirmed in a Presbyterian Church, and as soon as I could exert personal choice… I chose to sleep late on Sundays.  So now what?  Is it too late?  Is there a big sign at the gates saying “No Hypocrites Allowed?”  Was I supposed to have accumulated a minimum number of God-points along the way?  

Will it help if I can comfort this frightened woman next to me?

With some effort … I extracted my hand from her grip.  As I pulled away she looked over at me, with hollow tear stained eyes.  Courageously … I unbuckled my seat belt and raised the armrest between my seat and the empty center seat.   Then I slide over toward her, into the center seat; found the new, unused seat belt; buckled it tightly around my waist; and reached over to take her hands in both of mine.  She leaned in to me and said, “Oh thank you” with as much passion as a lover in heat.

We stayed like that through perhaps another twenty minutes of turbulence.   Gradually the turbulence eased.  When she finally released my hand, she was clearly embarrassed, apologizing for her “childish behavior.”  By now my "game face" was firmly re-established across my features.  As she let me go … I moved back over to my former seat.  Only later did I briefly recall a moment when she had leaned against me, so that the back of my hand was pressed against her breast. 

Shortly thereafter they resumed the beverage service.  I had a cup of hot tea, before going back to sleep for the remainder of the flight.   As we departed, my seat mate and I smiled at each other and said goodbye as if nothing had happened. 

After all, these things really do happen all the time.