“It’s impossible to see where you’re going from up here,” he said peering out of the window, “but I’m assuming the Captain knows where we’re going – it’s one of those things, you just have to trust, don’t you?
Katie mumbled something for tenth time – trying hard to stay focused on the plot of the story she was reading. It was hard with Kevin sitting next to her. There was something desperate about the way he just couldn’t keep still in a plane.
“What’s that?” he asked in a high pitched voice, “Did you hear that, Katie?” he nudged her now to get her attention, “Katie, did you hear that?”
“What?” Katie sighed finally putting her book down, “hear what?”
“That whine – at first it sounded like brrrrrrrr and then suddenly it changed to brrrrr-eeeeeee.”
“Honey. It’s nothing. It’s probably just the flaps as they correct the flight path, or whatever. Don’t worry.” She patted his knee, “just relax, why don’t you shut your eyes and sleep a little?” Kevin hadn’t slept a wink all night.
“Sleep? Are you crazy? What if something happens? What if the …”
“Kevin, honey, nothing’s going to happen. “
“Nothing, eh? How do you know? There’s all kinds of things that could happen.”
“But nothing’s going to happen. And even if something did happen, there’s not really very much you or I could do up here at 36,000 feet.” Katie signed again, resigned to another long conversation about latent possibilities of accidents, terror attacks or other impossible ways a plane could fall out of the sky.
“I read in a magazine the other day …”