by Nova Rain
Those weren’t my biggest issues, though. The thing that tormented me, was nowhere near the road. It was thousands of feet up in the air. Blinking in the sky, each set of airplane lights acted like a painful reminder of what I had been deprived of doing. And the saddest part of this was that I couldn’t help but look up. Amazingly enough, part of me wanted to catch that view, although it hurt me deep inside. Whether I was outside a restaurant, at a junction, or a café, I didn’t stop. However, after almost three hours of wandering around, I was too tired to carry on.
Just a few yards from my apartment building, I spotted Ava’s slender figure crossing the street. For a moment, I considered going around the block once or twice. I had no desire to confront Penny again. But, with my leg muscles protesting at the thought, I decided to head back to my apartment.
I found her sleeping on the couch, under a blue blanket, her black boots in the gap between the couch and the coffee table. A folded piece of paper on the armrest piqued my interest.
“Jake, this is Ava.
I just tucked her in. Please, try not to wake her up. She cried her eyes out after you left. And please, take into account what I have to tell you about her. It will help you understand her better.
I’ve met each and every one of the losers she’s dated in the past decade or so. Yeah, you read that right. Losers. You see, Penny isn’t a great judge of character. You must be the only decent man she’s ever dated. The problem is, she’s never dated any decent men, so, she doesn’t know how to handle them.
I’m asking you as a favor: Please, be patient with her. I know it’s a big ask, but if you have feelings for her (which I’m sure you do), you will do it.
Thanks for taking the time to read this.
P.S. Speaking as her future maid of honor, I’d love to give her away to you.”
“Thanks, Ava…” I whispered to myself, shoving the note into my pocket. I appreciated the gesture, because it showed genuine interest in her friend’s wellbeing. There was one thing on which I disagreed with her. In my opinion, we both had to be patient with each other. Patience is key to having a good relationship with someone, regardless of what either of us is going through.
The next morning, I drove down to Michael’s neighborhood in lower Manhattan, the same, bad feeling overwhelming me. In spite of the fact that we were meeting Paul Miller, our union leader, I didn’t have high expectations. The union’s only weapon was a strike. Would thousands and thousands of United employees go on strike for the injustice done to me and Michael? To be honest, I doubted it. The vast majority of those people had families to provide for. It would be very difficult for them to lose days of salary, just to express their support. I didn’t believe they would throw away that money, even for the pilots who had performed one of the most spectacular landings in the history of modern aviation.
To my confusion, Michael and Paul treated this meeting like some sort of big secret. They were sitting at the table in the lower right corner of the café, as far away from the window as possible. I had no idea how this would play out, but its start didn’t seem at all promising to me.
“Morning…” I said, my tone firm as I bypassed two tables of loud frat boys. “What’s with all the secrecy?”
“What secrecy?” Michael squinted at me. “It’s freezing cold, man. I wouldn’t sit near the entrance, even if there were ten hot chicks begging me to sit at their table.”
“I didn’t think of that,” I murmured, shifting my gaze to the union leader. “Hey, Paul. How have you been?”
“Not so great,” he claimed, his grim expression showing truth in his words. “I was just telling your buddy here about the nightmare this week has been. You did an amazing job down there. Even a blind man can see that. Still, the ramifications of what you did shook the hell out of United.
“Get my man some coffee over here, hun!” Michael gestured to a nearby waitress.
“I don’t get it,” I protested. “I thought United made a lot of money out of this. They got tons of good publicity for nothing.”
“Publicity is one aspect of the whole thing.” Paul raised his index finger to chest height. “That press conference they threw sort of backfired. General Electric threatened them with lawsuits, because you mentioned their engines failed in midflight. They say it was detrimental to their company’s image.”
“They did fail,” I repeated the same phrase yet again. “Even the NTSB says they did. They found that their cores had melted.”
“Hey, I’m on your side here, okay?” Paul maintained, lowering his voice. “I’m just saying what United has been up to. They also went to a lot of hustle to put those passengers into hotels, but that came cheap compared to General Electric’s demands.”
“Meaning?”
“They want to terminate their current contract, and negotiate a new one,” the union leader continued, his tone slower. “They demand United pay an extra ten percent on the list price for the first fifteen engines they purchase. Each unit costs about twenty-seven million, which means United will have to pay…”
“Forty million-and-a-half extra.” I finished his sentence, scratching my chin.
“There’s the matter of you and Michael, too.” Paul didn’t allow me to speak any further. “After what you did down in New Orleans, they’re sure you’ll demand raises.”
“That’s bullshit,” I scoffed at the information. “I don’t remember mentioning anything to them about a raise. Michael, what about you?”
“No, sir.” His answer came fast. “I just want to go back to work.”
“Yeah, but they can’t know for sure if you won’t do that in the future,” Paul remarked. “And you can’t sign any papers saying that you won’t, because it’s illegal.”
“That’s why we got suspended.” I concluded, my gaze dropping to the floor.
“Including everything else, yeah,” Paul agreed, his tone strengthening. “Look, I emailed our pilots with that information last night. My gut feeling says that a strike will get a lot of support, but there are pilots just weeks from retirement. If they don’t back us up, they’ll end up working double shifts. Can you imagine that? Sixty-year old pilots working fifteen hours a day?”
I sighed and brought my gaze back up to his. “They’re bound to make mistakes. So, what do you think we should do?”
“Talking to the press is your only option,” Paul suggested, glancing at Michael first and then me. “Your friend told me you’re dating a reporter. If you expose what management’s trying to do, the public will back you up. Hell, they’ll rally together for you. You’re a hero. You both are.”
“You mean piss management off even more,” I corrected him. “Paul, they’re already mad at us. What’s going to stop them from sending us both over to one of their subsidiaries? We’ll still have a job, but what kind of job will that be?”
“Flying cargo planes from Canada to Alaska, for half the money we’re making right now.” Michael saved the union leader from the trouble of having to answer, hanging his head in despair. “United subsidiaries don’t have to pay us the same salary that United did.”
“Thank you.” I nodded to my friend. “I want my job back as it is.” I addressed Paul in an emphatic tone, leaning closer to him.
“Then I’m afraid I can’t help you.” His words came as no surprise to me. They just confirmed what I had been suspecting on my way over.
“Thanks for nothing,” I grumbled and left the table, regretting my decision to go to this joke of a meeting. Yes, Paul Miller had provided some inside information, but, for the moment at least, it was useless. The critical matter remained, and this so-called union leader couldn’t do anything to help me and Michael. We were on our own, facing the prospect of unemployment— the nightmare of unemployment.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jake
Silence.
Irritating silence.
That’s what I got from Penny for the rest of the day. No phone calls. No texts. Nothing to even clue me in
on her thoughts. After our fight on Thanksgiving, I believed she would change her attitude. Snapping at me in my current state could only damage our relationship. She was a smart girl; I expected her to figure that out for herself and show me some understanding. Sadly though, Penny spent the rest of the day ignoring me.
I did consider reaching out to her. I missed her. But, just when I was about to call her, the dilemma in my mind forced me to reconsider. Who was I going to talk to? Was it the sweet, smiling girl? Was it the girl who purred in my arms every time we had sex? Or was it the roaring woman that couldn’t see past traditions and formalities? That’s what she did on Thanksgiving. She disregarded my needs, because all three of us had to have dinner together. So, understanding that we could well have another argument, I decided to return her indifference.
Prior to turning in for the night, I checked my email. At the top of the page, was another message from my airline.
“Captain Turner,
Your presence is required tomorrow morning at 9:30am, at the T4 VIP Delta Sky Club in JFK Airport. Jonathan Powell, our human resources manager, and Ron Matheson, our customer service director shall be expecting you.
Respectfully,
Colleen Rosewood
United Airlines
Human Resources Department”
“Suspend first, ask questions later. Assholes,” I said to myself. What was this all about? They had made their intentions clear. Did they want to rub it in my face, too?
I would understand if those emails had come in reverse order. For instance, if they had discovered mistakes and omissions on my part on board the flight, the logical course of action for them would be to suspend me. But no. United wanted to break me first, like I was some sort of criminal.
I spent the most part of that night looking up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell they had called me in for. Something about the flight? The way I handled that press conference? It could be anything. I couldn’t know, and this uncertainty was killing me inside. In any case, my relationship with that airline was in ruins. They had treated me with disrespect. They had treated me like dirt. Somehow, the facts that the triple seven was intact and the passengers unscathed had slipped their attention. Slipped? Nah. They never bothered with those. I would bet my life that, the moment the plane touched down on that levee, they started counting expenses.
To my surprise, Powell and Ellis were not the only people in that meeting room the following morning. With them, was a scrawny, aging man in a dark-brown suit. Furthermore, there was a big screen TV directly behind the long table.
“I’d lie if I said it’s nice to see you again,” I spoke in a harsh tone, striding towards them.
“Is this how you think you’re going to get your job back?” Powell asked, glaring up at me. “By being rude and aggressive? People say ‘good morning’ where I come from.”
“It would be if you hadn’t suspended me,” I growled, pulling a chair from the table. “What did you want to see me for?”
“Before we proceed, I’d like to introduce you to Richard McClintock. He’s the head of our legal team.” He gestured to the stranger sitting across from me.
“Why did you bring a lawyer in here?” I wondered, looking up at him.
“First things first,” Powell replied, pointing the remote to the TV. “The NTSB sent us the recording from the CVR. With the help of the Cockpit Voice Recorder, we ran some simulations. We entered your flight parameters to the simulator, and asked two of our pilots to land the plane to Lakefront, the nearest airport to your position. Captain Darryl Rogers is flying the aircraft. Andy Copeland is his first officer. Here’s what happened.”
He switched on the TV, bringing a view of a darkened, mildly shaking cockpit and two pilots, their backs to the camera.
“United one-fifteen, I’m going to vector you to Lakefront Airport. You’re only six miles from Lakefront.”
“Roger that, New Orleans,” Copeland acknowledged. “Go ahead.”
“United one-fifteen, Lakefront, fly heading one-five-zero. Vector around the thunderstorm to your left.”
“Copy.”
I watched on, curious as to how this would play out. Pilot and first officer remained silent for about twenty seconds. Then, Captain Rogers performed a steep left turn, causing the plane to bank in that direction. A 3D image of canals and levees alike showed up on the screen, before Lakefront Airport hove into view, its lights flickering in the distance.
“Lakefront tower, United one-fifteen, request IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) clearance. Dual engine failure. Must make visual landing immediately.”
“Roger that, United one-fifteen. We’ve got you on the radar. You are to land on runway one-six.”
At that moment, runway lights were lit up directly ahead of the plane.
“Landing gear. Flaps,” the captain called out.
“Flaps,” his first officer said, pressing buttons on the dashboard.
“Forty, thirty, twenty…” A distorted voice interjected, stating the plane’s altitude. “Successful landing at Lakefront Airport, runway one-six.” It added, the triple seven touching down on the ground with a minor jolt.
“There you go.” Powell announced, a look of disapproval on his face. “You could have landed at Lakefront.”
“Really?” I smirked, folding my hands behind my head.
“Is this some kind of joke to you?” He groaned. “Do you think this is funny?”
“No, but I think you do!” I grumbled, raising my voice.
“A human pilot in this simulation shows that you could have made it to that airport,” Powell insisted, pointing at the TV.
“No, it doesn’t,” I disagreed, jumping from my seat. “You didn’t take the human factor into account. Those pilots were not behaving like human beings. Like people who had never experienced this.”
“Maybe they’re not reacting like you did,” Ellis assumed, his mocking tone threatening to destroy my composure. Still, I had to remain calm, because I had a very important point to make.
“Right after the air traffic controller tells them about Lakefront, they head for it, correct?” I asked, my hands on my waist.
“That is correct.”
“Obviously, they knew exactly when to make that left turn.” I pointed out, gauging both of their reactions. Neither of them even flinched. “I didn’t see them running any checks.”
“They had the exact same parameters that you faced,” Powell stated, his tone stiff.
“Did they…?” Irony crept into my voice. “We were in the middle of a goddamn storm. Our plane was being pounded on from all sides. But it’s okay. Just make a left turn for Lakefront, like you’re going back to your car to pick up the keys you forgot. This was dual engine loss, amid a fucking storm. No one has ever trained for an incident like that. No one!” I yelled. “And that’s a very unrealistic bank angle in the simulation. The winds were fierce. We were also carrying six tons of fuel, and three hundred-and-twenty souls on board. Can either of you tell me how many times the pilot practiced that maneuver before he actually pulled it off? I’m not questioning the pilots. I know those guys; they’re both pretty good. But it’s clear to me that they’ve both been instructed to head for Lakefront at four thousand feet. You allowed no time for decision-making or analysis. In this simulation, you took all of the humanity out of the cockpit. You’re desperate to find human error in something that’s not human to begin with. I’m going to ask you again. How many practice runs did these pilots have?”
“Twelve,” Powell muttered under his breath, tearing his gaze away from mine. “Captain Rogers had twelve practice attempts before the simulation we just watched.”
“Exactly!” I gave an emphatic nod. “And that’s without any time for decision-making and analysis. Add thirty seconds to that simulation, in which the plane will have dropped another seven hundred feet, and no one will be able to land it. Not in Lakefront. Not even on the freeway the air traffic controller suggested.”
“We�
��re suing you for property damage, Captain Turner,” McClintock’s thin voice filled the room, and sent my adrenaline into the ozone layer. “The storm you flew into practically ruined the aircraft. General Electric is considering filing a lawsuit against you for defamation as well. You blamed their engines directly in that press conference.”
“I didn’t fly into the fucking storm!” My cry bounced off the walls of the meeting room. “I tried to fly around it, but the damn thing shifted like a storm always does!”
“There’s also the matter of financial damage, Turner,” Powell said, compelling me to fix my gaze on him. “We had to compensate those passengers for the missed flight and pay for their accommodation. We’re suing you for that, too.”
That was the last straw. I curled my fingers into fists, fuming with rage. Throwing my arm forward, I rotated it in mid-air, and landed a powerful blow to Powell’s cheekbone. His body was thrown back, knocking over a chair. He landed hard on his side, slamming his head to the ground.
“Congratulations, Turner,” McClintock smirked. “You just added ‘assault’ to the list of charges against you.”
I tossed a vicious glare over at him, and walked off in his direction. By then, I expected to start chasing him around the room, but the lawyer didn’t move a muscle. He stayed right where he was, his feet bolted to the ground.
“Come on, punk.” He urged. “Touch me and I’ll sue you.”
Snarling, I thrust my arms forward and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. I spun him around and loosened my grip, sending him flying over the table. His loud squeal brought me a sense of satisfaction. McClintock’s body dropped to the floor, before he rolled across the room. He came to a halt on his back, reeling in pain.
“Sue me. Fucker,” I growled, turning my attention to Ellis. “Got anything to say?”
“No, no.” He shook his head sideways, the terror in his eyes inviting me to offer him the same treatment. Yet, I selected to leave him be. My blood was pounding in my temples. There was a damn good chance I would lose control. I was already imagining him lying on the ground, spitting out blood. And I knew for a fact that punishing him would give me too much pleasure. So, I stormed out of that meeting room, a single thought plaguing my heart and mind.