by Coleman Luck
That’s when the weirdness began.
Suddenly, onto the plane rushed a man and a woman in heavy overcoats and gloves. The woman was carrying a baby. They seemed nervous; every move had a kind of jerky twitch about it. The woman held the baby in a funny way, stuck out in front of her as though he had peed on himself and she didn’t want to touch him.
Overcoats and gloves in August? Alex thought. Maybe Boston was cold at night, but it couldn’t be that cold.
Their seats were one row up and across the aisle. Without taking off their coats and gloves, they sat down. Alex stared at the baby. He was a little boy about one year old, with a chubby face and reddish hair. As the baby wriggled into a new position, maybe it was only the light, but for a moment his eyes flashed with a dark, silvery glow, almost like those of an animal caught in the headlights of a car.
Alex blinked.
When he looked again, the baby was staring straight at him. It wasn’t a trick of the light. His pupils were shining silver. It was unlike anything Alex had ever seen, and the intensity of the shining was growing every second. But then the little boy smiled. Instantly all the anger and exhaustion that had made Alex so miserable in the past few hours were gone, replaced with a mysterious warmth.
The feeling remained until the woman turned the child away.
Then all the ugliness rushed back.
The longer Alex stared at the woman, the more convinced he became that she looked exactly like the pictures he had seen of his father’s new wife, Cynthia. She had jet-black hair that hung straight and silky, and her chiseled features made her look like a mannequin. It took only a little imagination for Alex to believe that the touch of bronze on her cheeks wasn’t makeup, but places where the fake head was showing through. Just the kind of female his father would think was hot. And her traveling companion was a male copy. The coat couldn’t hide it. The guy was ripped. Clearly a workout freak loaded with enough steroids to play professional baseball. Whoever they were, Alex knew that they couldn’t be the baby’s parents. No way. Not the slightest chance. People like that hated kids. And just look at how she was still holding him—like he was poison. So if they weren’t the parents, who were they? His mind raced. Kidnappers. That was it. Why else would they act so weird? Important thought: If they were kidnappers and he turned them in, there might be a reward. Not only would he get rich, he’d be on cable news. Heroes always got on cable news.
Suddenly the man twisted in his seat and stared straight at him; the look was so menacing that it drained the fantasy right out of his head. Stupid fool. That’s what the look said, and Alex withered. With a sneer the man turned away, and it was as though he had awakened from a trance. He stared at them. Suddenly, try as he might, he couldn’t find anything unusual at all. Kidnappers? They were just two people with a baby on the seat between them reading magazines—Sports Illustrated and Cosmopolitan.
No joke. He really was going nuts.
Alex was seriously contemplating his loss of sanity when a grinding rumble almost made him jump out of his seat. He noticed that the flight attendant had swung the huge door shut in preparation for departure. That was it. He rubbed his eyes. First, weird babies and kidnappers, and now he was jumpy enough to explode out of his skin. He had to get some sleep or he would go stark raving wacko. Forcing himself to relax, he closed his eyes.
Then he jumped again and swore.
Someone outside the closed door had begun pounding on it as though with a sledgehammer. The whole plane shook. The startled attendant rushed over and looked through the porthole. Instantly the pounding stopped. After unlatching the door, she pulled it open.
No one was prepared for the person who walked onto the plane. Handing her boarding pass to the flight attendant was a blind woman led by a seeing-eye dog. But there, all touch with the world Alex had known came to an end, for she was almost seven feet tall, and the head of the dog came to her chest. Both were old, so old that Alex couldn’t imagine any living thing more ancient, yet in neither was there the slightest weakness or quavering. Mist drifted in the woman’s clothes and the animal’s fur, as though they had just walked through an ocean fog. Yet the darkness outside was clear and windy.
And the attendant…what was wrong with her? She acted as though everything was totally normal—as though every day of the week seven-foot-tall people got on planes after pounding on them with sledgehammers.
Turning toward the aisle, the old woman stared vacantly in Alex’s direction. A glistening film covered her eyes, but if anything, it added to her majestic presence. On her face was the shadow of a great beauty, creased with a thousand lines and careworn by age. Her iron-gray hair was pulled back into a long braid that hung almost to the floor and around her shoulders was draped a tattered shawl coarsely woven like a fisherman’s net. In her hand she held a worn leather bag.
Reaching down, she touched the animal standing motionless beside her. For some reason the fur on the dog’s neck was bristling. But Alex didn’t really notice because he was transfixed by the creature’s eyes. They were blue, haunting, and somehow didn’t fit the rest of his body. Nothing so young should have been in anything so old. He was old, grizzled beyond description, a misshapen mongrel; and he was covered with scars…terrible scars…as though he had spent his entire life locked in vicious battles. Something about the way he stood spoke of endless pursuit, deadly peril, and bloody victory. Here was an animal both brave and dangerous beyond imagining, and he was gazing steadily at the man and the woman in the overcoats—staring at them as though, at any moment, he might leap across the seats and tear them to pieces. Alex had never seen a dog stare like that—with absolute, unwavering intensity. Then his lips drew back in what could have been nothing less than a canine grin of pleasure.
His teeth were like knives.
The response of the people across the aisle was not hard to understand. They were frozen with terror for a moment, but then the moment passed. The flight attendant led the new arrivals to a seat several rows up, where, with aching slowness, the old woman sat down. The dog stretched out on the floor next to her and promptly closed his eyes. The old woman rummaged in her bag, mumbling in exasperation, until finally she drew out a small book attached to a golden chain. Carefully placing the chain around her neck, she opened to a page marked with a purple ribbon and began to read.
Alex leaned forward. For a brief moment the woman held the book high enough for him to see its pages. As he had expected, there was no printing on it. He had seen books for the blind. But as he continued to watch, he realized that something was wrong. To read Braille you had to move your fingers across the paper touching dots, but the woman never moved her fingers. She held the empty book as though she were reading just like anyone else. Alex was completely mystified. But before he could think any more about it, he was pushed back into his seat by the thrust of the engines.
As soon as the plane was in the air, the old woman closed the book and folded her arms. Alex tried to keep watching, but his eyes just wouldn’t stay open. Before he knew it, he had plunged into a deep sleep.
A jarring bump, and then another, and Alex lurched into total awareness.
The flying was getting rough. Sliding over to a window, he looked out. It was dark—and that was strange. He checked his watch. They had been heading east for a long time. The sun should be rising. But it wasn’t.
As the minutes passed, the bumping grew worse. Then the seatbelt sign came on, and the flight attendants began waking everyone. Alex got Amanda and Tori buckled into the seats next to him. The girls were afraid, especially Tori who had awakened with no memory of where she was. For their sakes he tried to appear calm. But this kind of bumping wasn’t normal. As he stared out the window, he couldn’t help imagining that there was something thick and heavy in the air. They must be flying into a storm, but there were no clouds. Far below, moonlight sparkled on a furious ocean.
Soon the bumping grew to bashing. There was a crash as though a giant fist had struck the underb
elly of the plane, and instantly it dropped from the sky, only to climb again moments later like a speck in a hurricane. Amanda and Tori screamed. Alex’s ears popped. His head swam as all of the air was sucked from the compartment. Oxygen masks tumbled down. They struggled to put them on.
Just as the plane leveled off, lightning appeared. Through the window Alex could see it falling like torrents of glowing rain. And with it was thunder.
The jet plummeted as though off a cliff.
Amanda and Tori clutched wildly at each other. Everybody was screaming. The terror was indescribable—except in one person. The old woman didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong. She was still reading from her book, mumbling and staring at it with rigid concentration. And the dog? Well, that was the most amazing thing of all. He had climbed into the seat next to her and was wearing an oxygen mask. Not only did he look ridiculous, it barely covered his nose, but it appeared that he was enjoying every moment of it—huffing and puffing into the mask with total delight.
Then came a roar that made every other crash seem like a whisper. The jet groaned and lurched, and the lights went out.
The captain’s tense voice crackled over the loudspeaker. “I’m sorry to tell you this…but we’ve experienced total engine failure. I have no choice but to land in the ocean. Please remain calm. We have rafts and your seat cushions are made for flotation. Prepare for impact. And God be with us all.”
Horrified, Alex pressed his face to the window. The jet was only a few hundred feet above the water. Waves like mountains raged and vanished beneath them. Jagged streaks of lightning crashed into the foam with a thousand blue-green explosions. No one could land in that and survive. They were going to die. Strangely, with the loss of hope, his terror vanished. Pulling the shade, he turned to Amanda and Tori. More than anything he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what, so all he could do was stare at them helplessly.
From the windows of the aircraft no one saw what was happening high above. Over a screaming wind from deep within the universe, a brilliant star was beginning to shine…as an ancient voice sung from the pages of an empty book…hanging from a chain of gold…above the cloth of twilight.
5
WORLDFALL
Slowly Tori Lancaster opened her eyes.
Something warm was against her cheek. It was a blanket. To her surprise she discovered that she was lying on a little mountain of blankets in the center of a huge raft. And the raft was floating on water. It was a dream, she told herself.
Amanda was in the raft too, lying half-hidden, snoring away, under a blanket of her own. Tori was about to close her eyes and doze off again when a wonderful smell made her turn and glance in a new direction. Instantly she was wide awake.
Someone else was in the raft and this person wasn’t asleep at all. Near the pile of blankets sat a battered airplane chair, and seated in it was a very tall old woman, smiling. Tori had never seen anyone so odd. Everything about her was strange: her hair, her eyes, and especially her clothes. A faint mist drifted around them.
In her hand she held a steaming cup and on her lap sat a plate of freshly baked cookies. That’s where the delicious smell was coming from. And if all that wasn’t freaky enough, next to her chair sprawled a dog the size of a small couch with a baby asleep between his paws.
“Good evening.” The woman’s voice was deep and creaky but not unpleasant. She took a loud sip from the cup and snorted deliciously as the steam circled her nose. “Cookies. Cookies here. Want a cookie? They’re fresh. Baked one half minute ago.”
Tori was so surprised that she couldn’t say a word. All she could do was reach across the blankets and grab her sister. The only response she got was an unintelligible grunt that sounded like, “Go ’way, jerk.”
But Tori wouldn’t go away. She just kept poking.
“I said, go away.”
If there was one thing Amanda hated, it was being awakened on a Saturday morning by Tori. And it happened every Saturday morning. Every single time she wanted to sleep in, Tori bugged her to death until she had to wake up. Well, she was sick of it. Rolling over, she was about to give her a whack when her eyes opened and she saw where her sister was pointing.
An old woman…a dog…and a baby…in a raft in the middle of the ocean.
Suddenly she began to remember. And what she remembered was absolutely terrifying. The last moments before the crash. The screams. The plane hitting the water. Everything breaking apart. Then darkness. Jumping up, she stared at Tori. The look made Tori remember too. They stared around.
“Alex…”
He wasn’t in the raft.
“Oh no…” Tori’s lower lip began to tremble.
“Now, now, now, now, now, I know everything’s upset. A little jerky. Twisted upside down. But it’s going to be fine.” The old woman spoke quickly but with great gentleness. “The gangly one. The one with lots of hair. That’s who you’re looking for, isn’t it?”
“He’s our brother. Do you know where he is?” Amanda could hardly get the words out. It felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.
“Well, I can tell you this. Not a thing was lost in the flying. Certainly not your brother. Never something like that. A chair maybe. A pillow. A hundred indigestible meals. But not a brother. He’s alive and well. Not comfortable, not quite that. His landing wasn’t as padded as ours. Bumpy, but all right. You’ve got my word, and I always tell the truth.”
“You mean he’s on another raft?” Amanda felt a glimmer of hope.
“Yes. Specifically, another raft. Seriously, that indeed.”
“But…how do you know that?” She stared at the old woman’s eyes. It was obvious that she was blind. “I mean…I mean…you couldn’t have…seen him.”
“A minor detail. You’d be surprised how much a blind person knows. And that’s a fact. Now, Grandfather is taking care of your brother, and he couldn’t be in safer hands anywhere in the universe. No indeed. Not ever.”
“But…we don’t have a grandfather.” Tori’s voice sounded small and scared. “We were traveling by ourselves.”
“By yourselves? What’s that? What did you say?” A strange catch came into the woman’s voice. “Surely, positively, you can be certain of one thing. You’ve never lived a minute, not a second, not a day or two, never ever…by yourselves.” Turning away, she dabbed at her eyes and cleared her throat. “Now, I know you’re frightened, who wouldn’t be? Who indeed? But this is not a time for sadness and tears. We’ve got enough water all around us. No need for it to drip out of our faces. Your brother is going about his business, and we must be about ours. Which, at present, is eating cookies. So nibble one of these before I give them to our very large friend over here, who could eat the whole platter in a single gulp.” At this, the old dog perked up his ears.
There was a moment of uncertainty. Tori wanted to cry over Alex and couldn’t understand why he wasn’t there. Yet being with this peculiar woman seemed to make everything all right. A tear trickled down her cheek. But then she reached out and took a cookie. One bite made her feel much better. It was the most delicious cookie that she had ever eaten. And it was hot…as though right out of the oven.
“Now, you—you, my dear. A cookie for you.”
The plate was extended to Amanda, who shook her head.
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
In fact, Amanda wanted to throw up. None of this could be real. Dogs and babies and weird old women in rafts? Not a chance. So if it wasn’t real, that meant it was a nightmare. Or worse, she was dead. That made a lot of sense. No one could have lived through that crash. The truth must be that she had died, and because of her evil life, God had stuck her in a raft with a wacko blind woman, a baby, a dog, and Tori to wake her up every single morning forever. Amanda felt the contents of her stomach move closer to her throat. But then she looked up to find the woman’s mysterious eyes gazing at her. And there was something coming from deep within them that looked like a glowing mist. When it
touched her skin, it warmed the fear away. Suddenly she felt loved. Loved almost more than she could bear. It hurt, like tasting something wonderful when you’ve been starving. The first touch on your tongue brings aching pain.
“Is your dog a guide dog?” Amanda was glad that Tori had asked the question. It made the woman stop looking at her.
“Oh, he guides all right. Yes, he does indeed.” She chuckled. “But he has his own way of doing it, and he doesn’t stop for traffic lights.”
“I think I remember when you got on the plane.” Tori crossed her legs and leaned against the side of the raft. “I was mostly asleep, but it was in Boston, wasn’t it?”
The old woman nodded, “Yes, Boston, Boston. Massachusetts, somewhere. Foggy place.”
“We’re from Chicago. Did you have to wait long at the airport? We had to wait forever. I got tired and slept almost the whole flight. I usually don’t sleep on planes. But this time I did. We were going to London. Where were you going?”
Suddenly Amanda wanted Tori to shut up. “Everybody was going to London, Tori. That’s where the plane was going.” She gave her sister a withering look.
“I wasn’t.”
Both girls stared at her. For a moment Amanda thought she was joking. But she didn’t laugh.
“What do you mean? Were you on the wrong plane?” It seemed impossible that anyone could make such a mistake. Surely the airline people would stop them, especially a blind person.
“No mistake. It was the right plane. But London, the bigger foggy place, wasn’t where I was going. Planes go up, but they never go down where you want them to. Unless you make special extremely unusual arrangements. And that’s always expensive.”
Amanda realized that every time the old woman spoke it grew harder to understand what she meant.
“Our dad lives in England. We were on our way to visit him.” Amanda didn’t know why she said it. It wasn’t even true. They were on their way to live with him.