The airplane was an ERJ-170 that accommodates sixty passengers. We located our seats, I ducked low under the overhead bay, and from my purse I pulled out my book, Fatal Error, Death by Innocence. I sat down in the aisle seat and shoved my purse under the next passenger’s seat ahead of me. My seatmate was an older lady next to the small window. Trisha and Larry were two rows back on the other side of the aisle. As I remembered from the last time I flew, the seats on this plane are cozy, to say the least. I looked up in time to warn a tall man in front of me to duck under the low overhead baggage compartments. He almost didn’t hit it without brushing his hair against the underside of the storage shelf with the top of his head.
The turbine jet engines came to life, drowning out everyone’s conversations. Our airplane taxied out to the runway and after a few minutes waiting for the control tower to give the pilot the go-ahead, we lifted off into the sky.
After thirty minutes into our flight, the steward and stewardess rolled the cart down the aisle with drinks and snacks. I unfolded the snack tray from the headrest ahead of me and requested the bisque cookies and orange juice. I couldn’t see out of the small porthole to my left because my sleeping seatmate had lowered the shade screen to sleep.
I turned on the overhead light and read my book for about an hour until I, too, felt like dozing off. The passenger next to me, an elderly lady, was fast asleep against the wall when I leaned my chair back a couple of inches. Not hearing any complaints behind me, I drifted off to a light sleep when the older woman near me pulled up the window shade and let the sunlight in. The stewards had already picked up our snack waste so I pushed up the little plastic tray and latched it on top to the seat in front of me.
The captain announced our arrival time and I could feel the airplane descend beneath my feet. We were landing in Phoenix. The touchdown was smooth but the stopping on the runway was abrupt. Our plane steered over to one of the exit gates of the terminal. I could feel the warm temperature from the air outside and slung my light jacket over my arm. Most of the passengers were starting to stand up to collect their luggage from the compartments above me.
“People always do that,” the woman sitting next to me said, pointing at the standing passengers. “And then they have to remain standing for the longest time until the crew opens the door. I’ll wait. Do you have another plane to catch?”
“I do, but not for another couple of hours. Oh, I see the line is beginning to move,” I said, rising out of my chair.
Larry and Trisha were in the aisle and stopped the flow of passengers from the tail section so I and my seatmate could leave our seats.
We began walking out the hatch door and down a metal stairway that had been rolled up against the airplane for our exit. The sun was bright and warm. At the bottom of the stairs, we located my suitcase and the Paige’s carry-on totes from the luggage cart. From there we walked through the covered walkway and into the main area of the concourse. Larry and his wife stopped to scan the gate departure listings.
“Our gate is in the next terminal,” Trisha said. “We’ll have to take the people mover.”
I picked up my pace, trotted behind them, and stepped on the flat moving conveyor belt emerging from the floor. After a few minutes, the belt ended and began again a few steps further. I walked on the next mover and noticed an older couple ahead of me towing suitcases similar to mine. The man stepped on the conveyor system but the woman did not. She was shorter than him and walked almost as fast as the belt did. The older man did beat his wife to the end of the last people mover but he didn’t have to wait long for her to walk in step with him to the gate.
This reminded me of when Henry and I were in a hurry to catch our plane at another airport. He kept saying we were not going to make it, but we did just as the clerk started scanning the boarding passes. “God, I wish he was here with me,” I thought
I and my friends stepped off the moving belt and located our exit destination. From there we decided we didn’t want to sit in the crowded waiting area. Larry pointed to another section of unoccupied chairs for a gate that wasn’t in use at this time. We headed over there and found a seat. My feet felt better to find a place to sit after all that walking.
“I wonder if there will be a meal on board the plane?” I asked.
Larry leaned in toward us.
“For the length of this flight, there should be. But I was on a plane once and by the time the food got to my seat in the back, they ran out,” Larry informed us. “I’ll go and see if there is anything in the food court.”
We nodded and were glad to be resting for a few moments. I realized how hungry I had become when my stomach emitted a low growl. A few more passengers had the same idea as we did to move away from the crowds and sit in the empty seating area of the gate section.
I turned
