The 95th Floor

by N R Brooks

  “I promise you, nothing is going to happen. I won’t allow it.”

  “I know, but…”

  “Babe, look at me.” I tilted her head up to look in my eyes. “It is just a dream. I’ve dreamt the same thing before, and nothing came of it. It is probably just your mind recalling something that traumatized you in the past.” I tried to reassure her.

  “Yeah…but you said the same thing in the dream. You wasted your time for nothing. You said the same exact words as before.”

  I really wanted to just tell her everything. I trusted her and never wanted her to be in the dark about anything. But this was just too important, and I couldn’t drag her into it.

  “I…I don’t know. I promise you, everything is fine. You have my word. When I am certified and done with all the flight training I need, I will be back up there with you in a heartbeat.”

  “You promise?” She asked quietly.

  “I promise,” I replied and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

  She didn’t bring up the topic again for the rest of the weekend. I still felt bad about withholding information from her, but it was for her own good. I only had to do this for a few more months and then everything would be back to normal—I hoped.

  When Sunday came, we both were far less depressed and mopey as previous times when the day arrived where one of us had to leave the other. It was still a sad day, but we had gotten somewhat accustomed to having to part from one another. The holidays were going to be here soon, and it was obvious that we would see each other then as well. I had the benefit of being good friends with my boss, so time off was never usually a problem.

  We planned for me to fly to New York for Christmas and New Years to spend time with her and also to visit Pops and Ian. I also learned that Ziad would be in Europe visiting Aysel as well as his family in Beirut so our house would be empty for a bit.

  I also made a mental note to begin further work on trying to stop Atta and Ziad over the next few months. Once the new year came and went, I would officially be in 2001. The clock would be ticking, and I would have to up my efforts.

  When Keiko and I arrived at the airport, we embraced before she left for the security stop and then her departure terminal. We missed each other terribly, but we had gotten to the point where we didn’t need to shed any tears to know how we felt. When she was no longer in sight, I left the airport and went home. For now, the next thing to do was to train in flight simulators and get my commercial pilot training. It was just me and Ziad now.

  Chapter 21

  Every day that got crossed off on the calendar was one day closer to September 11th. Sometimes I wish I could just stop time all together with only myself and Keiko able to enjoy the world in its stillness. Other times I wish I knew how I had been thrust into the past in the first place so I could leave and spend time in a more distant era. But I couldn’t leave what I had now. It meant too much to me. And it all depended on what I was seeking to accomplish.

  I intended on completing my training with Ziad close by so I could keep my eyes on him. I still didn’t know how I was going to convince him to change, but I was going to do it.

  On the 15th of December, Ziad and I drove to Virginia Gardens just on the outskirts of Miami. There was a Boeing facility across the street from the Miami International Airport which had full sized simulators in which to train on large aircraft such as the 727 and 737.

  The drive from Venice to Miami was a little over three hours with the route we took. Ziad insisted we take his car, so it gave me plenty of time to chat with him and try to get inside his head; find out what made him tick and what I could use to sway him. I decided to try and get him to open up about his religion and some of the beliefs and ideologies that were beaten into his head by his counterparts.

  “So Ziad, what is it like in Lebanon where you are from?” I decided that issues in the Middle East would be a good place to start.

  “It is very beautiful in Lebanon. At least now it is. It was rough when I was younger though. Lots of war and fighting, stuff like that. But it has changed since then.” He replied while keeping his eyes on the road.

  “Oh yeah, I remember some stuff happened in the 80s. Well, I guess longer than that, but I do remember a bunch of Americans being killed. What was up with all of that?”

  Ziad sighed before replying. “More meddling by the Israelis. I only know what I was told since I was still a child.”

  “Oh, right. It must have been rough growing up during a civil war.”

  “It wasn’t all bad. I mean, the fighting and everything was bad, but my family works in the government, so I wasn’t around much of the fighting.”

  “So is your family also Muslim like yourself?”

  “Yes, but they put me in Christian schools as a child. They do not adhere as strictly to the tenets of Islam. They are more…what’s the word you use? Secular.”

  Ziad seemed to be opening up to me without much prying. Either he felt he had nothing to hide or he actually trusted me.

  “Wow, really? That is odd. That isn’t something you hear about here in America. A secular family living in the Middle East.”

  “Well, Americans seem to think they know how the world works when really they know very little.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” I felt as though I finally got him to crack. Usually, he would act as though America and its citizens were the greatest in the world. This was the first time I had heard him actually speak more critically of us.

  “America thinks it can tell the rest of the world how to live and act. They make us Muslims look like savages and drive us out of our homes to make room for Christians and Jews and even kill our children. And for what?” He said with his voice gradually rising.

  “Whoa, I didn’t mean to strike a nerve,” I said trying to calm him down. In reality, striking a nerve was exactly my intent. “To be fair though, what you say is true, but that is not the belief of all Americans. I mean, I feel kind of the same way you do. I think some of the things our government does over there is bullshit. I surely don’t imagine all Muslims as savages. I—” He cut me off.

  “That is not the point. America supports Israel in everything. Every day Muslim children are being killed just so the Jews can take more and more land. Land that is holy to Islam.”

  “True but it is also holy to Christianity as well as Judaism. You should know this since you went to Christian schools.”

  Ziad sighed again. “Yes, I do know this…”

  “Besides, look how the Lebanese government has treated the Palestinian refugees. Some might argue that they are worse than the Israelis.”

  Ziad didn’t reply to this, he merely stared at the road. I felt that this could quickly spiral into a huge argument, so I decided to steer it back to a more civil conversation.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to get you worked up. I just want you to know that not all Americans feel that way about you and your people. It is mainly the uneducated ones that do. People who aren’t interested in culturing themselves and learning about other parts of the world. They feel that their country is the only one that matters, and that is wrong. I don’t deny that at all.” I said trying to reassure him. I hoped that if I dispelled his ironic view of us, that he might realize that his view of Americans was the same thing he was criticizing us of doing.

  “You are right. I am doing the same thing that your people do. It is just so maddening what happens in my homeland.”

  “I agree. But when groups like al-Qaeda bomb American bases, embassies, and ships, it doesn’t help change the view those same people have, it only reinforces it.” I was nervous about bringing up al-Qaeda considering he was here on behalf of their group. But he didn’t know that I was aware of this.

  “Yeah…” he said, gazing at the road.

  That was as much as I was able to get with him on this topic. I didn’t want to press any further for fear that he would either suspect that I knew something or he would jump ship and I would never hear from him again.
This required a delicate hand and I wanted to be as careful as possible.

  “Look, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just read a lot of books about history and such and Lebanon is rich with history and artifacts and stuff like that. I was just interested in what your home was like.” I tried to diffuse him and get back on the topic of more enlightening things.

  “No worries, my friend. I apologize for my outburst.” He said with an apologetic smile.

  “Think nothing of it. I am your friend, just remember that.”

  “Yes, you are my friend.”

  “So tell me more about the fun side of your homeland. Do they have good places to drink or dance or anything like that?”

  “Oh man, there are so many great places. This one place…” he began with a newfound sense of excitement.

  The rest of the trip was filled with discussions about Lebanon as well as some of my historical knowledge about the land. I even educated him on some of our own history in America. For now, I avoided any mentioning of religion or Christianity. I was not a Christian or of any religion. I had no religious allegiance and considered myself an atheist. However, I kept from mentioning this. Instead, I maintained an aloof attitude towards all religions. I would mention them on a factual basis and kept it at that.

  I felt I had made progress if only a slight hint of it. I knew somewhat where he stood on topics of the Middle East and also of America. It was enough to work with, so I could plan another attempt at conversing with him at a later time. For now, what I had accomplished was good enough.

  We made it to the Boeing center in record time, mostly due to Ziad’s habit of speeding. We made it there with plenty of time to spare, so we grabbed some food before pulling into the parking lot of our destination. Ziad insisted that I try some food from his homeland of Lebanon. Luckily, there just happened to be a Lebanese restaurant not far from the Boeing center.

  I was excited since I had never had any Lebanese cuisines before. Sadly my diet only consisted of American food and Americanized Chinese and Italian food. I couldn’t recall any genuine ethnic food that I may have ever tried.

  The meal turned out to be fantastic. I had actually heard the names of some of the dishes and items before but never knew what they were. My lamb shawarma was exquisite as was the falafel and the baba ghanouj sauce on the side. I made a mental note to find a Lebanese restaurant in New York the next time I visited. I just had to share this delicious culinary discovery with Keiko.

  After our meal, I thanked Ziad for introducing me to Lebanese cuisine—after all, he paid for both meals—and we set off for the Boeing facility just down the road.

  When we finally made it inside the facility, the two of us proceeded into the chamber that houses all the different Boeing simulators, two of them we would train in: the 727 and 737. Today, Ziad and I would trade off, one of us in the pilot’s seat while the other in the co-pilot’s seat while the instructor that accompanied us sat behind us and in the middle.

  Ziad was the first one of us to begin the simulated flight. The training started off almost on the wrong foot as our instructor was slightly alarmed by the fact that Ziad was only interested in takeoff and flight, not landing. Of course, I knew exactly why this was. However, I convinced him to practice landing by challenging him to see who could perform the better landing. This worked and the rest of the day went as well as could be expected. I would like to note that my landings were far superior to Ziad’s.

  After a few hours of training in the 727 simulator, we moved on to the shorter, wider bodied 737. Flying this plane would feel much different mostly due to the shorter body and having only two wing-mounted jet engines as opposed to the extra tail-mounted third engine the 727 uses. Once you got used to the handling of the jet and the difference in how thrust is applied, it was a smooth ride.

  The abundance of dials and meters and toggle switches on a commercial airliner compared to that of a small propeller-driven Cessna is quite intimidating at first, but once you understand what every instrument does, that feeling goes away quickly.

  Again, I challenged Ziad to see who could not only land more proficiently but take off and land as well. He seemed to take my challenges much more seriously this time than he did in the earlier 727 simulator. I had hoped that my competitive nature was urging him to want to fly better and actually have fun with it rather than just fulfilling the minimum requirements one would need to guide a plane into a target on a map.

  We spent the entire day in the Boeing facility, racking up training hours that would apply to our eventual certifications as commercial pilots. By the time we left the facility, it was closing time, and we were both drained. Neither of us was looking forward to the three-hour drive home, so we ended up staying at a hotel nearby. Since we were right next to the airport, the selection of places to stay was more than sufficient.

  Ziad was a person who didn’t think twice to squander money. He enjoyed lavish hotels and so that is where we stayed. He insisted on paying, so I didn’t argue. We ended up staying in a top floor suite with a full bar. I figured if one knew when their life was going to end, saving money was probably the last thing on their mind.

  Our suite had a patio that overlooked the city and the surrounding metro area. The city of Miami itself was not that large, but the cities that surrounded it and made up the metropolitan area went on for miles as far as the eye could see. The two of us sat out on the patio making good use of the alcohol that was stocked in the bar in our room. I only took sips of my drink, but I could see that Ziad was indulging himself. He even looked like he was rather tipsy.

  “Ziad, you remember the first night we went and had drinks and I met your friends Mohamed and Marwan?”

  “Yes, I remember. What about it?” He asked after taking a long sip of his drink.

  “Tell me about your friends.”

  “Well, there isn’t much to tell. They are also learning to fly. We met in college back in Germany.”

  I knew that all of them were college students, but I also knew that Ziad went to a different university than the others did. They didn’t exactly meet in college; they met at a mosque that preached extremist views.

  “In college, huh? What made you all decide you wanted to learn to fly?” I quizzed, anxious to hear his response.

  “I have always wanted to fly, ever since I was a kid. But my father wouldn’t let me. He said he was afraid I would die in a crash.” He replied with a smirk before taking another long sip.

  I found this highly ironic. “A crash? Well, I saw how well you can fly when you put your mind to it. There is no chance of that happening.”

  “I hope not.” He winked at this, almost as if he were taunting me with knowledge only he had.

  “What about Mohamed? Why is he taking flight classes? And how come you guys all didn’t go to the same school or share a place together?”

  “I don’t know about Mohamed. He just likes to do his own thing, I guess. He and Marwan are close friends. I just know them, but not as well as they know each other.”

  “I see. I remember after you spoke with him that night, you seemed...I don’t know…upset or something. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” I hoped in his slightly drunken state he would be more apt to open up, more so than he had earlier during the drive here.

  He looked out at the city for a moment before answering. “Oh, Mohamed can be a bit much sometimes. I…I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean? Like he is an asshole?”

  He found this quite funny. “Haha, you can say that.” His laugh died down quickly to return to a look of contemplation. “Have you ever felt like you were pressured into doing something and you couldn’t decide whether you should do it or not? Like, you feel you should do it because it is for the good of those you care about, but at the same time you know there are other ways to achieve the same result?”

  Bingo. I had finally gotten him to reveal a part of his personality that I could exploit.

  “What kind of thin
g are you talking about?” I asked, hoping to get him to reveal some details.

  “I don’t know. Just something big. I have never been satisfied with my life and the way it has played out. I want to make a mark on the world. I don’t want to go out in my sleep or in some natural way. I want to be remembered. I want to be a hero. But…” He struggled to come up with words that wouldn’t give anything away. “I have other things I also want to do.”

  “Huh.” I had to choose my words carefully. In his inebriated state, he could either spill his guts to me, or he could lash out into a rage if I was too direct. “If you are conflicted about something that someone is forcing you to do, I would not do it.”

  Ziad didn’t reply to that. Instead, he seemed to be calm and relaxed, looking out over the city and its symphony of colors.

  “I would say don’t do it. From what I can see, friend, you have a good life and a lot to look forward to. You have a girlfriend who clearly loves you. I hear you speaking to her all the time when I see you. I am in the same position, so I know how it feels.

  “You need to just go out there, be the best pilot you can be, and when it is all said and done, go back to your woman, show her everything you learned over here, and maybe take along some of your knowledge of American culture with you. Maybe educate some of the less cultured people over there about how Americans aren’t as bad as some may think we are. We are just like them, and they are just like us. That is what I would do if I were in your shoes. I would try to bring knowledge of your culture over here and open people’s eyes. The world would be a much better place if everyone wasn’t so huddled up in their shells and afraid of those who may have a different culture. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  He sat there for a bit, pondering over my speech. “I…I just don’t know.”

  “Trust me, Ziad. If you and I can be friends, why can’t everyone else get along too?”

  He gave no reply, just a half smile and continued looking out at the twinkling city lights.

  After a moment, he got up and stood next to me with his hand on my shoulder.