They had been planning on moving in together – and now all that was a pipe dream. She was gone. The blue fleece blanket was hardly sufficient. More was deserved for this situation.
Returning to the back of the plane, he opened the little cabinet and found one of the remaining four nature valley bars. He contemplated it for a moment. If she hadn’t gone, there would have only been three and a half today. If she hadn’t gone, she would still be here. Joe pulled the door shut as the wind started to blow. He watched out the little window as snow started to blow over the blanket. This window – the same window he had watched Anchorage drop away from him through – now showed him a thing he had never wanted to see.
Carly and him had taken a trip to Oahu, they had stayed at a beautiful beachfront hotel. One night was the night that would be stuck in his memory. One evening as they left the room for the restaurant, he had discretely picked out a small package from his coat pocket. That was dessert. It was to be enjoyed after dinner, to the sunset. He had ordered a steak, medium rare, she had a seafood platter with shrimp, a small sample of mahi-mahi, and a glass of red wine. After he paid the bill the two went for a walk along the beach in Waikiki. The sun was about twenty minutes from setting. Her hand in his felt warm and soft, the way it had felt the first time he had held it, back in grade ten. But now he had to do this. Time for dessert.
He blinked. It was getting dark outside. He crawled up to the cockpit, and took the little electric lantern he carried in his hiking pack. He hooked it into the air vent over seat 4A. It was the middle seat on the plane. The plane was lit up with the eerie glow of blue-white. It trembled slightly each time the wind blew. He returned to the cockpit for the flashlight. He returned to his window. He clicked the little button, and a beacon shone out into the storm. The blanket held fast.
He let go of her hand, but she did too, at the same time. She reached up and adjusted her hair. He loved the way she looked in that white beach skirt. Her long brown hair reached just past her shoulders and was tied into a ponytail.
A sudden bang echoed through the silent hull and it tipped a bit. A rush of cold air blew over him. A tree had fallen on the cockpit windshield. Snow and brisk air were pouring into the cold passenger section and ice was piling up on the vacant pilots seats.
Joe found a garbage bag in the cabinet. As he unraveled the silver duct tape, pain seared through his arm – just a sprain. It’s not broken.
He slowed as Carly adjusted her hair. She was about ten paces ahead when she realized that he wasn’t beside her. She turned around. And looked down.
The duct take didn’t seal well against the dried blood on the panel, but the wind stopped invading his warmth. He surrounded himself in the remaining five blankets.
The sunset was the most brilliant red, the sun itself was about halfway concealed by the horizon of the Pacific Ocean.
Just twenty-two miles dues west, from the charts. But what good would that do? There are no highways around here. Not for at least two hundred miles. Even if he found a road he would have to hike it out to the nearest town. Traffic wasn’t common in the Alaska winter.
A second crash brought him back to his senses. The little lantern was still on. He reached up and switched it off. He glanced out the window quickly before laying down, even though he couldn’t even see where the window was. He knew what lay beyond it, though. A little “beep beep” from his watch signaled the twelve hour mark.
Carly’s mouth opened slowly. Joe spoke first.
“We’ve been together for five years now. I love you, I have for a long time. I know you love me. I don’t know a couple as happy as us. Will you marry me?”
She had answered with one word.
“Yes.”
Turn off the light. No. There shouldn’t be a light – sunlight? Was it morning already? No – the light vanished. Good. More sleep. Then it was back. Over the storm, through the muffling of the hull, he made out a low pitter-patter. He sat bolt upright. The little red light on the EPRB was still on. It wasn’t possible. Just three hours earlier… The light came back.
He reached into his pocket. The little black box had a thin velvet coating, just as he had seen in all those dumpy romance movies. He opened it – nothing. Needless to say, panic ensued. He was almost brought to tears on the happiest night of his life.
Then all of a sudden, like rolling thunder, the sound of the helicopter came out of nowhere and the storm outside was illuminated by a halogen light. Joe kicked the door open and grabbed the red stick off the seat behind it, and pulled a tab off of it. A brilliant red light, brighter than daylight, erupted from it. Startled, he dropped the flare outside the door. The helicopter stayed. Still wrapped in five blankets, he waved out of the door. He could see the shape of it now that the light wasn’t blinding him. I landed about two hundred feet from the plane.
He was breaking down, tearing apart the luggage, opening every drawer, checking pockets – all the while Carly had her hand on his should trying to call him. After and hour and a half of searching, he gave up. He picked up the bedside phone. He dialed his home number in Farmoll.
A man in a bright orange jumpsuit, who looked rather like a giant carrot, came out of the storm and started shouting.
“Where are the other three?”
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s Joe – yeah – can you check in my office desk drawer – yeah top right one – the little wooden box – thank god. Love you, see you in a few days.” He hung up. “I left it in my drawer.”
“The first thing I’ll do when I get home is put that ring on. She gave him a kiss.
He was silent. The carrot yelled louder.
“Sir, are you injured?”
“What – no. They…” His eyes moved to the blanket laying under the wing. He pointed towards the cloth, then walked towards the helicopter. It was time to go home.
“It has been announce that the small connecting flight from Anchorage to Farmoll airport has been recovered, with one survivor.”
