“I’m going there.”
“Okay. That’s great. You haven’t been there before?”
“I’ve never left Toronto. Well, I went to Kingston for a field trip and camping in Algonquin Park as a kid. My dad—” I winced. My father was the entire reason for this trip.
“Yeah? Your dad?”
Oh God, am I just going to word vomit my life?Except Zahir was a safe stranger—if ever such a thing existed. Better to have this conversation now than to screw it up later. Or was this practice? I took a deep breath. “My father—” I cleared my throat. “He was a traveling salesman. Would be gone for long stretches of time.”
Zahir nodded. “That must’ve been hard.”
I shrugged. “I was close to Mom. We did okay. Not a lot of money…but we did okay. She was protective, like. Always kept me close. Hence, never traveling. So, when Dad wanted to take me camping to Algonquin, I was so damn excited. What I didn’t realize at the time—because you rarely do—was that was to be the last time I’d see him.”
“Oh dear.” Zahir’s dark-brown eyes softened. “That must’ve been tough.”
The airline attendant stood before us, wearing a life vest. With rapt attention, I followed as she demonstrated various things that were obviously important. She showed us a pamphlet, and I made a note to study it. Probably should’ve done that first.
When the message repeated in French, I grabbed the paper and started reading it.
Zahir sat patiently, clearly not bothered that our conversation had come to a premature end.
Then the flight attendant removed the life vest, stowed all her gear away, and sat in a little seat and put her seat belt on.
The airplane stopped moving, and the engines roared.
Zahir offered his hand.
I gripped it.
As much as I wanted to continue with the story, that was impossible. I needed to focus on…whatever came next. Well, takeoff. I was going to have to survive the takeoff.
Airplane travel is the safest way to get anywhere.
Takeoff and landing are the most dangerous.
Ten minutes from now, it’ll all be over—one way or the other.
The plane gained speed as it barreled down the runway. As much as I wanted to look outside—to see whatever could be seen—I was too terrified.
Then we lifted off the ground.
I didn’t entirely understand the physics pushing me against the seat, but I felt relieved. Somehow grounded at a moment when that also felt impossible. I continued to grip Zahir’s hand as the engine continued to roar.
Conversation was impossible—without shouting. And I didn’t intend to shout. The details he asked for were far too personal. No,askedwas too strong of a word. He offered. I accepted. No obligation on my part. Nor on his.
As we leveled off, the seat belt sign went off.
“I keep mine on the entire time.” Still, Zahir held my hand. “Turbulence can be a sneaky bastard, and it’s better to just be belted in unless you’re going to the washroom.”
“May I get you gentlemen a drink? Champagne? Wine? Beer?” Liliana offered a lovely smile.
Just breathe.
“I think we’re going to stick to non-alcoholic,” Zahir eyed me.
I nodded frantically. If I were going to die, I wanted to do it with a clear head.
“I’ll have a tomato juice.” Zahir squeezed my hand.
