In fact, they inflated the details beyond recognition. Fanning the flames, gossip spread like wild fire, and before he knew it, Willie was tried, sentenced, and hung before the court of social media, even before a proper investigation could prove his innocence. It was shocking how quickly he went from hero to zero, and more than a little heart breaking.
He’d played it safe his whole life, always erring on the side of caution, doing his best to make good choices, with integrity. His grandmother raised him and wasn’t shy about giving him a cuff in the ear when he did something stupid. She was a strong woman and kept him on the straight and narrow, consistent with boundaries, and her love and affection. It was unlikely he would have made it through college, or to the NBA, without her guidance. Nana insisted on a strong work ethic too. She would have been devastated to witness the recent scandal, but she would have stood by his side, steadfast in her love. She had passed away a few years prior, just after he was drafted to the Lakers. Fuck he missed her.
Boarding was starting right on time. Maybe things were finally going his way, he thought, gathering his belongings. He was on his way to a private resort in the Fiji islands, at the suggestion of his manager. He was normally not one for traveling to such expensive, exotic locations, preferring to live modestly. Yes, he was earning great money, more than he ever dreamed of, but he was smart enough to know the ride wouldn’t last forever. If the recent drama taught him anything, life could change on a dime, and he needed to respect that fate, at any moment, could throw him a curve ball.
The resort he’d booked prided itself on discretion, meticulously catering to the rich and famous. He’d booked it only a week earlier, as soon as the charges were dropped. He needed to relax, regroup, and get his bearings straight before he had to be back for training camp. He would read on the beach, do a little deep sea fishing and snorkeling, but most importantly, sleep. He’d not slept in months and it was taking its toll on him. A few of his teammates had invited him to party in New York City, and it would probably have been fun, but ten days of solitude and alone time was the prescription he needed to find his way back to himself, the man his grandmother would be proud of. He was Willie Russell, a hard working, decent man with good morals and a strong heart who just happened to play a decent game of hoops. The media almost made him forget that.
Chapter 6
Joss stood on the dock, waiting for the pilot to load her suitcase into the cargo hold of the seaplane. She’d never been on such a small aircraft before and was feeling anxious. She swallowed down her nerves and looked around, curious about the other passengers. She was early, as usual. Her flight from the States had arrived many hours earlier but rather than take any chances, she hopped in a taxi and instructed her driver to take her right to the transfer station.
There was only one other person waiting, a nice looking man with glasses, not much older than she was. He was handsome, in a Clark Kent sort of way, kind of ordinary, but also sweet looking. His skin was flawless and well groomed and he sported a healthy head of hair, dark and neatly coifed. Although he didn’t seem to notice her, she ran a hand through her tangled hair anyway, certain she was a hot mess after more than eighteen travel hours. She pulled an elastic off her wrist and quickly tied her hair back, hoping to resolve the problem without too much fuss.
The plane she was taking was an island hopper, a Cessna Grand Caravan, just a little commuter. She was told it was a full flight, every seat accounted for. The pilot advised her that they would be making several stops, beginning at the furthest destination and then working their way back. She would be the last drop. The flight plan seemed backward to her, but who was she to complain. She knew nothing about aviation and wasn’t about to argue with him. He was a little ornery.
She couldn’t blame him really. The threat of bad weather had made everyone a little tense, but especially the small transfer companies. It seemed everyone had altered their travel plans over the past few days. People who were at the end of their vacations wanted to leave early, and those just beginning were desperate to make it to their destinations before everything was grounded. She was lucky she reserved something ahead of time. She was like that. Joss never left anything to chance. She was a Capricorn. Being prepared and planning ahead came as naturally to her as breathing. It was part of what made her excellent at her job.
Joss stared up at the sky, hoping the weather wouldn’t put a damper on Hannah’s wedding plans. It was starting to drizzle and the wind was picking up, but it was more a relief than a concern. It was frigging hot and Joss rather enjoyed how the soft, cool mist felt against her sticky skin. She hoped it would refresh her and wash away the travel grime.
“You can board the plane, Miss,” the pilot grumbled with a thick Aussie accent. “No point in getting soaked.”
Joss nodded at him and climbed the few steps, thinking it best not to challenge him. Although quite handsome, he was a little rough around the edges and didn’t appear to be in any mood to debate. She chose a seat in the very back, pulling her carry-on bag onto her lap, so as not to dampen the seat beside her, and waited. She’d been followed onto the plane by ‘Clark Kent’. He nodded at her, acknowledging her presence, and sat a few rows ahead. She wondered for a moment why he was traveling alone, mildly curious about his story but too shy to strike up a conversation.
She looked back out the window and noticed a few others gathering on the dock, handing their boarding passes to the pilot, and storing their luggage. The rain was coming down harder and Joss was suddenly grateful she had boarded before the skies really opened up, and the soaking commenced. The air conditioning on the plane was chilly, a stark contrast to the humidity outside. It would have been an unbearable flight if she had been soaked to the bone. She pulled a light wrap out of her bag and cocooned herself in it, grateful for the instant comfort.
One by one, the passengers began filing in. It wouldn’t be long before the cabin was full. Joss found it curious that all of the passengers so far, appeared to be traveling solo, and all of them were handsome men. What were the crazy odds? she thought. Hannah would get a chuckle out of that. No doubt she’d ask Joss why she didn’t just pick one and join the mile high club. Unlike her, Hannah had no filters. Joss loved that about her.
There were four seats left to fill and Joss wondered how much longer they were going to wait. They were supposed to take off promptly at 6:00, she was told, and it was getting close to that time. She saw a cab pull up, a young man jumping out. He appeared to be barking orders to his driver, who quickly complied, retrieving a suitcase out of the trunk. He ran toward the plane, and stopped in front of the pilot, handing him a soggy boarding pass. His charming smile and boyish good looks didn’t seem to be enough to thwart a stern look from the pilot. Joss giggled quietly at the exchange.
He climbed aboard, and shimmied his way down the narrow aisle, kindly nodding at the others as he made his way to the seat across from Joss. The other passengers seemed suddenly excitable, turning their heads to watch him walk past, as though they knew him. He looked familiar to Joss too, although she couldn’t quite place him. Someone famous maybe? She didn’t spend a lot of time watching television or browsing the internet, but she was sure she’d seen him before, somewhere. He was a nice looking guy, cute. He had a youthful face, although a closer inspection proved otherwise. He was probably close to Joss’ age. Maybe a little younger. He nodded at her before taking a seat, removing his baseball cap to run his fingers through his hair.
“Hi,” he said, holding out his hand, “I’m Ryan.” Joss returned his smile, shaking his damp hand.
“Joss,” she offered discreetly, not wanting to disturb the other passengers.
Hearing their introductions, a man in front of Ryan turned his head in her direction and nodded. It was a warm gesture, the kind that says, ‘we’re all in this together, we might as well be friendly’. She smiled back at him cautiously, not wanting to be impolite. He was an older fellow, and very handsome. Dapper was actually a better word f
or him. He was wearing a white buttoned-down shirt, rolled up to the elbows, exposing a very expensive watch. No wedding ring.
“Getting nasty out there,” Ryan observed, loud enough to keep her engaged in the conversation.
“Yeah,” Joss agreed. It was twilight, but the angry skies definitely made it appear darker than it was.
She looked up, just as the pilot entered the aircraft.
“Okay folks, buckle your seat belts, we’re taking off. My name is Captain Grant Holmes. As you’re well aware by now, we’ve got some dodgy weather coming, but I’m confident we’ll beat the worst of it. Those poor, late saps are gonna be stranded on the mainland, I’m afraid. We’ve got to depart, and we’re the last flight out. No worries, mates, I’m gonna get y’all to your destinations safe and sound. You’ll be sipping a Mai Tai before you know it. No smoking on my aircraft. If you want a cig, step outside, will ya? It might be a little windy, but it’ll be ok if ya hold on real tight,” he winked puckishly.
The other passengers giggled appreciatively at the joke, in spite of the fact that he’d probably used the same line on every flight. Joss looked around the cabin, trying to stay relaxed. The fact that no one else seemed anxious definitely set her more at ease. She shifted her bag in her lap and buckled her seat belt, pulling it tightly around her waist. She heard Ryan chuckle and looked over at him nervously, hoping for some encouraging words.
“Here we go,” he snickered, giving her a playful wink. She grinned nervously, drawing a good-natured chuckle from him. “You look terrified, Joss. You want to hold my hand?” he teased.
“Don’t think I won’t,” she retorted playfully, doing her best to steady her voice. Appreciating the playfulness, Joss snuck a curious peak at him, briefly catching his eye. She caught his warm smile before turning away again, still wondering who he was.
The flight started off routinely, albeit a tad bumpy. It was worsening outside, but Joss had confidence in Captain Grant. He seemed to know what he was doing, having probably flown the route hundreds of times before. Surely he was used to all kinds of weather, she reasoned, doing her best to keep cool.
She was doing a good job of it too, until about sixty minutes into the flight, when they flew directly into an electrical storm. Suddenly the lights started blinking and Joss heard alarms chirping from the cockpit, followed by hushed whispers from the passengers up front. The little seaplane started pitching and lurching as the captain, in a controlled panic, began flipping switches. Joss’ stomach lurched, more from fear than air sickness.
She looked over at Ryan, who was no longer smiling. In fact, he was white as a ghost. He caught her eye and shrugged, as though trying to maintain his own composure.
“Folks, sorry to be tossing you about,” Captain Grant apologized over the loud speaker. “We’ve flown into an unstable pocket. My navigation equipment seems a little cranky. Hold tight and keep your seat belts fastened. I’m going to dodge around it.”
Joss swallowed hard, pulling her bag closer to her chest. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to her father, pleading to him to keep her safe. The captain started barking coordinates into the radio, several times it seemed, before tossing the mic and grabbing the yoke with both hands. She could see only the back of his head, but nothing about his body language appeared confident.
“Fuck,” the older man across from her blurted. He was holding the seat in front of him, his knuckles white from fear. His reaction, completely reasonable given the circumstances, only served to panic her further.
The plane veered sharply, and Joss let out a tight scream, along with several of the other passengers.
“Jesus Christ,” the captain blurted, desperately trying to right the aircraft, “hold on.”
She assumed he was talking to the plane rather than his frightened passengers, but she grabbed the seat in front of her nevertheless. The aircraft finally straightened up, but continued to jerk them about. She wondered if it would ever end. The storm seemed to be picking up power and Joss feared the worst. She decided right then and there that as soon as the plane landed she was getting off, regardless of the location. She would swim to her resort if she had to. She just wanted to be off the damn plane. She’d never been so frightened in her entire life, and she had done some daring things!
It seemed to Joss like they’d been fighting the weather for at least an hour since the captain last spoke to them, since any of them had spoken. The groaning and rattling of the aircraft was grating on all of their nerves. The other passengers were clearly distressed as well. She was desperate for it to be over. Captain Grant picked up the radio again.
“Mayday, mayday, any station. This is Island Hopper GH-0483. We’ve lost navigation and are flying on one prop,” he croaked, his voice tight with fear. He offered the last known coordinates and waited for acknowledgement, but was only met with lonely static, as though all communication was lost. Joss held her breath, praying for safety, refusing to give up hope. Please, please, someone answer, she quietly begged.
Suddenly everything went silent, as though the little plane had no choice but to surrender, and that was decidedly more terrifying.
“We need to make an emergency landing,” the captain shouted out, “put yer heads down and hold on tight!”
Chapter 7
Joss sat up, mindlessly rubbing the pain over her right eye. It took her a moment or two to process where she was. She must have been knocked unconscious and wondered how long she was out. She heard quiet moans around her, in the pitch black, the small aircraft rocking in the ocean current. With little concern for her own injuries, she felt compelled to check on the others, to assess the situation. She prayed there were no casualties.
“Ryan? Ryan?” she croaked, reaching out to touch him.
He groaned quietly, grasping her hand in the dark, “I’m ok.”
“Are you sure? Any broken bones? Blood?”
“I don’t think so. My heart is racing about 90 miles an hour though,” he sputtered, squeezing her fingers for reassurance.
“Can you move?” she asked, pulling her hand free to unbuckle her seat belt. They didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, no fire, and no water filling the cabin. At least that was something.
“Ya, I think I can.”
“Good, do you have your cell phone handy? I could use some light.”
“Hang on,” he grunted, as though fishing it out of his pocket. He turned it on, filling the cabin with dim light. Joss saw his face and breathed a sigh of relief. He appeared unharmed. She motioned for him to hold up the light then shimmied out of her seat, shoving her bag on the empty chair in front of her.
“Sir, are you ok?” she called out to the man across from her. He appeared unconscious. Joss moved toward him and cradled his head in her hand, checking for a pulse. She was worried about whip lash, or worse a broken neck, but as soon as she used her thumbs to open his eyelids, he stirred and moved his head on his own accord. She let out a sigh of relief.
“What happened?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching hers.
“We seem to have made an emergency landing. It was hard. What’s your name?”
“Charles ... Reid. Are we sinking?”
“No, I think we’re ok. Do you have any pain?” she asked soberly, checking him all over.
“Nothing too serious, I don’t think. A bit nauseous,” he admitted. She wasn’t surprised. The plane was thrashing back and forth in the waves, making her dangerously close to hurling herself.
“Are you a Doctor?” he asked hopefully, as she ran her hands over his limbs. She was checking for fractures.
“No. I have medical training though,” she admitted, hastily brushing her damp hair out of her eyes.
“That’s good enough for me. Can I help?”
“I’m just going to check on the others. If you feel well enough, can you go up front and see how Captain Grant is doing? Maybe check for an emergency kit. A flashlight. First Aid,” she instructed, looking back at Ryan.
“Can you follow me with the light?” she instructed, gesturing for him to follow. He nodded and peeled himself out of his chair. They both helped Charles stand and waited for him to make his way up the aisle.
The next passenger, the fellow she’d likened to Clark Kent, looked up at Joss blankly, as though in shock.
“Hi,” she spoke gently, “I’m Joss. Can you tell me your name?” He nodded his head but offered no reply.
“Are you ok?”
He nodded again and cleared his throat. “I think so. Daniel,” he choked, raising a hand to the back of his head. Joss was surprised by the British accent. She carefully examined him, concerned that he might be in shock. He was shivering uncontrollably. She quickly went back to her seat, balancing herself against the violent motions, and retrieved her wrap, returning to cover him with it.
“We need to get out of here,” he insisted anxiously, pulling the wrap tighter around himself.
“It’s ok, Daniel. We’re ok. Just keep your breathing steady, in and out, nice and slow, okay?”
He nodded at her, his eyes wide with concern, his teeth chattering violently. She would need to check back on him in a few minutes. She wished she could lay him down and elevate his legs, but there just wasn’t any room.
“I’ll be back. Yell out if you feel dizzy or faint,” she instructed, gently massaging his shoulder for reassurance. Ryan stepped out of her way as she continued down the aisle.
“Joss?” Charles called her. He had a flashlight in his hand and shone it down the aisle in her direction. “It’s the captain. He doesn’t look good.”
“Is he breathing?” she choked, anxious to get to the cockpit and assess him herself. “I don’t know. I think so. There’s a lot of blood.”
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