Terror at 30,000 Feet

They were flying over Alaska, and even with the shades pulled down over most of the windows the first class cabin of light TG461 was filled with an eerie, brilliant white light. In seat 3-C Scott's biological clock said that it was two-o'clock in the morning, but the searing light and the unceasing chatter of the Thai businessman in seat 3-D prevented any chance of sleep.

"It's really a sort of celebration, rather than just a business trip," said seat 3-D. He put one hand on Scott's thigh, which made the American flinch, and whispered into his ear, "If it was just a business trip I'd have brought my secretary, instead of my wife." He giggled and winked and twitched his head in the direction of the matronly Thai woman sleeping in seat 3-E across the aisle.

Scott kept his gaze on the back of seat 2-C in front of him. He tried to signal the stewardess and order a drink, not because he wanted a drink, but because it would give him a break from the maddening prattle coming from 3-D. "I'm celebrating the signing of a new contract for my company. We closed the deal last Tuesday in Bangkok, and I'm going to Los Angeles to sign the papers with our American partners. It's a big contract, I can tell you, worth," he paused between each word for emphasis, "seventy, million, US, dollars."

Seat 3-D waited for a reaction from Scott, but Scott had his head out in the aisle, trying to find a stewardess.

Seat 3-D assumed that Scott was still listening and continued. "It's a theme park. You know, like Disneyland or Cape Kennedy. Well, it's really a housing development, but these days there is so much development in Thailand you need a hook, a gimmick. So what we've done is surround a water slide and a roller coaster with 200 condos and called it a theme park. You buy a condo, you get to ride on all the rides for free. And there's golf, too, of course. Nine holes."

Seat 3-D was not looking at Scott any more. In fact his gaze was set in the mid-distance, focused on nothing inside the plane. "This is the big one," he said, more to himself than to Scott. "This is the one I've worked for my whole life. The rest of them got theirs in the 80s and 90s. I was beginning to think I was too old, that I'd be stuck building gas stations and strip malls forever. But this is the one. Seventy million dollars. I guess that must seem like an awful lot of money to a young man like you."

Seat 3-D looked at seat 3-C, and was very surprised to find it empty. Scott had fled to the men's room, where he was sitting on the toilet pressing the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. When he opened his eyes again the bathroom was filled with a galaxy of exploding stars and comets. The show lasted a few seconds and then Scott took out his cell phone and punched one button. There was a rapid beeping, a short pause, and on the other end of the line the phone was picked up after the first ring.

"Schwartz," said a groggy voice.

"Keith. Scott."

"Yo, Dog, 'sup? Where are you?"

"In the toilet on a jumbo jet. I haven't slept in 48 hours and I got a meeting with Hal in Development four hours after I'm wheels down at LAX."

"Wow, Dude. Terror at 30,000 feet. So what can I do for you, Babe?"

"Listen, I want you to call Vicki and tell her to close down the Bangkok production office. We're gonna shoot this turkey in the Philippines after all."

"But Scottie, Baby, Buhbie, that will put us another two weeks behind schedule. You know that we lose Keanu in August, he's doing Iago at the Utah Shakespeare Festival, and Julia's agent says that if we stall her again she'll binge and put on 10 pounds. And you gotta know Bobby's gonna be really pissed off."

"Screw Bobby. He only wanted to go to Thailand to shoot the picture 'cuz he met a girl there on "Casualties of War". Tell him the studio's not spending seventy million dollars on his lame script just so he can have a reunion with an old girlfriend."

"Okay, okay, chill man. What made you change your mind, anyway?"

"I don't know. There's just something about that place. Like, I sent my driver out for Xanax and he comes back with Valium and a big, dopey grin on his face. Like Valium and a smile is going to do what ten years of therapy couldn't, right?"

"You sound way stressed, Dude."

"Yeah, Thailand is no place to relax."

"Why don't you come out to the Malibu house this weekend? Lazlo is casting for Roger Corman and it's gonna be wall-to-wall honeys. Weather report says there's a big snow storm coming up from Peru. Whattayasay, Dude? There's no place like home, Auntie Em."

"Roger that, Maverick."

"Sometimes the magic works."

"It's a dick thing."

"You da man."

"No, you da man."

Scott closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror over the sink. He had deep black circles under his eyes and his skin looked green. He was only 28 years old, but he looked far older. He thought that he couldn't face the cabin full of light and the businessman in seat 3-D, so he sat down on the toilet again. He leaned his head back against the wall and close his eyes.

In his mind Scott put himself in a happy place. The studio didn't have the phone number at the Malibu house. There was a girl named Kandi sitting on his lap. A week ago Kandi was graduating from high school somewhere in Idaho, but she'd always wanted to be a movie star, so now she was sitting on his lap wearing Ray-Bans and cross-trainers and nothing else. Somewhere over Canada Scott finally fell asleep, and he slept in the bathroom all the way to LA.

© Steve Rosse. All rights reserved by the author.

The author can be contacted at: shavethemonkeys@gmail.com

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If you liked this short story by Steve Rosse you can read more of his work by purchasing his books, 'Thai Vignettes' and 'Expat Days' online at BangkokBooks.com. Here's the direct links to each for easy purchase.

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