Flight
Down below there was only a vast white undulating sea of cloud. We are observing the scene high up in the clouds, gazing into the pilot cockpit of a strikingly sleek helicopter, the Bluebird. Sitting with a comfortable murky yellow flight suit on was a middle aged woman who possessed charmingly attractive features. A small face, deep dark mesmerizing eyes and a small sharp nose, all these seemingly perfect features seemed to emit an everlasting glow of radiance beneath the scratched and battered pilot’s helmet. The cockpit was cramped and looked like it could accommodate no more than two people at once. Using her left hand, the woman held a steady grip on the pilot’s control column (joystick) her other hand danced across the electronic displays in front of her, the traditional ‘knobs and dial’s commonly associated with the cockpit were long gone.
The deathly stillness in the cockpit seemed to have a calming effect on this woman, although she did furrow her brows once or twice. This woman was alone, or was she? At least we can only make a conjecture from what we are observing. Just then, a soft muffled sound came from the opposite of the door opening into the cockpit, was somebody speaking?
“Sumire…” the muffled sound became slightly more audible. It was a small high-pitched voice which felt like it was echoing from beyond the skies out in the pure white clouds.
“Sumire, are you listening?”
“Um.” The woman gave a slight nod but her eyes continued its intent scrutiny on the vast blue sky in front of her.
A head peeked in as the door to the cockpit swung open smoothly. The woman with the high-pitched voice was petite and pretty ordinary looking (probably in her early twenties); clad in a white sleeveless cotton blouse and a knee-length blue cotton skirt. She had the type of face you usually pass in the streets and pay no attention to but one aspect of her made her seem out-of-this-world, like a misfit, like a bright red tulip among run-of-the-mill white ones. The weird thing about her was despite her youthful looks, this woman had billowing snowy white hair cascading down to her waist.
She smiled like a child who had just received candy and gentle creases appeared at the corners of her eyes.
“How many flights like this have we had up until now?”
“Fifteen. This would be our fifteenth flight, M.” Sumire replied without any hesitance.
M. stared down at her feet and rubbed them together, a smile darted across her face but it disappeared so quickly it could have been our imagination or a trick of the eye. The warm smile only appeared for a split second on her lips but it left a lasting imprint in her green eyes.
Sumire and M. were flying from San Juan Puerto Rico to Florida, and in midst of it all, infiltrating into the infamous Bermuda Triangle. Sumire has had her fair share of mystifying stories surrounding the dark nature of the Bermuda Triangle, she feared naught though, and her concentration on flying intensified as the seconds passed and not even a sign of uneasiness flickered in her eyes. The Bermuda Triangle remains an enigma to many but to Sumire, the myths and widely spread rumours surrounding it were merely manufactured mysteries, exaggerated into unimaginable proportions and igniting unnecessary fear in many. The waters beneath the belly of the plane posed just as much danger as any part of the ocean she had flown across, Sumire deduced that people were too superstitious for their own good.
A serene environment, the son dipping a little as night descended slowly. The sky still retained a translucent shimmer of pure white light but the inky darkness would inevitably come soon, still it was a smooth flight. When she met her friends again, Sumire could very well share with them her experience of flying across the Bermuda Triangle. There was nothing to be afraid about, no invisible black hole that will suck you into its dark ominous never-ending depths.
And then, it came a little too suddenly.
Sumire saw something out in the horizon, something like coloured smoke all around the dimming whitish orange sun which was slowly descending. The smoke grew more distinct, almost as if it was glowing. Was it still smoke? No. As the shapes grew clearer, Sumire finally made out that they were flames of light, flames of light that were waltzing, dyeing the distant sky in vibrant hues. The light grew steadily brighter and an awe-struck Sumire reached her right hand behind her, trying reaching out for the cockpit door but all she could catch was air.
“M. come here. M…” Sumire’s voice trailed off.
The door opened for a second time and M. stepped into the cockpit. This time, a bulky looking camera hanged around her neck, swinging from side to side. M.’s eyes widened in amazement, just like a child who was ever fascinated with the moving people inside that big box – that box we call a television.
“Wow. Sumi…ah!” M. was not exclaiming in amazement but rather in shock. Sumire’s heart banged violently against her ribcage, she turned back to see that M. had been flunked to a corner of the cockpit.
“No…No… NO! WHAT’S HAPPENING?” Sumire yelled and yanked her joystick forward. The small aeroplane had hit turbulence, out of the blue, everything started rocking.
And all of a sudden everything went dark.
M. writhed uncomfortably in the corner of the cockpit, groaning in pain. Her head hurt and she felt as if she had just suffered a concussion Sumire turned her head frantically, hoping to see spots of light or anything, just anything at all. But outside it was pitch black, perhaps she had not realised how fast night had descended but no, that was impossible. It was as if they had indeed been sucked into a black hole. Were they spinning into the never-ending darkness? Sumire had no idea. Her biggest logical guess was they had flown into a cloud, probably a big one. As we observe this scene from an imaginary camera above the cockpit, we are able to sense the thoughts and emotions of Sumire and M. However, we are just onlookers, unable to touch them or help them. We are only able to watch on helplessly and pray for them.
M.’s soft whimpers went unnoticed. The violent rocking of the plane scared Sumire so badly she has mumbling incoherent prayers to herself. That scene was sadly shocking for a usually clear-headed strong woman, who never feared anything, perhaps up until now, she feared for her own life. Sumire threw off her helmet and kneeled on the floor, if was rather apparent that a wave of nausea was overwhelming her. Any moment now, the plane would spin out of control and drop thousands of feet into the merciless sea below, Sumire was sure of it.
The shaking and fear went as fast as it came. Sumire gulped and unstrapped herself from the seat. For a moment there, she seemed to have forgotten about poor M.’s plight. Sumire took the semiconscious M. into her arms and calmed her down, whispering words of assurance into her ears. Everything was fine, at least for now. Sumire let M. curl in a corner to calm her nerves while she steadied herself and sat back in her pilot’s seat, still trying to make sense out of everything that had just happened.
Sumire turned her head to the right at such an angle that her face was hidden in the dark shadows making us unable to see her face. However, we desired to see her face and look at the expression she had, because now, the atmosphere in the cockpit was so dead, we wondered if Sumire was actually feeling anything. The imaginary camera, as if sensing our desire, tilts towards the right and moves in on Sumire’s face. Finally at a particular angle we are able to see her face much more clearly. Fear was etched into every crease on her face, and she had on an awkward expression like a cross between apprehension and disbelief. We are again brought further away from Sumire to observe the whole cockpit.
Sumire had no idea where they were now.
Flash.
Sumire knew she had seen something in front of her outside in the cold darkness. It flashed pass so fast she wondered if she really caught sight of it.
Flash.
A second time, she knew she saw it. She just knew it. It was a soft yellow light from below that was spinning, announcing its existence briefly and then disappearing again. It must be a lighthouse!
Gradually, tiny specks of light started appearing far down below, blur specks of faint light. The darkness began to dissolve around Sumire as she stood up and gazed out of the window. There was definitely a city below them; the lights below looked exactly like the aerial view of a bustling city at night. Sumire’s fear melted away and the atmosphere in the cockpit lightened. She did not know why the plane was in such a chaotic state awhile ago but that was not important now. M. might have fainted from shock, as she lay there as hard as a rock. Sumire did not notice the slow dripping sound of a liquid substance, it was wet and warm. All that was on her mind was the fact that she was not going to die or disappear like all the other unfortunate people involved in the Bermuda incidents. They were still far away from civilisation below it’ll probably take another three-quarter hours before they could land. She sighed and sank down in the pilot’s seat again.
As we watch on, we wonder if Sumire was aware of the presence of the girl she had been on fifteen flights with. And when would she notice the soft dripping sound. It was getting steadily louder. Drip. Drip. Drip.
