The scene in front of Sarah was pure chaos. She leaned forward in the seat, placing her head in her lap and covering it with her arms. The flight attendant had instructed the passengers to take this position in the event of an emergency, and this certainly felt like an emergency.
Thus far she had managed to stay out of the way and not bring any attention to herself. Through her brothers’ fits, her father’s schemes, and her mother’s…mothering, she had kept to the background. Only doing or saying what was necessary to get through any given day (she had found, over the years, that very little was necessary). She preferred not being noticed. It was bad enough witnessing her family’s almost daily meltdowns. She had no desire to be a part of them.
She closed her eyes tightly, thinking back to earlier in the day. She had been the first one packed and ready to leave at the agreed upon time. She sat and waited as her brothers took garden hose showers and masturbated to reality TV. She had held her breath as she sat squished between them on the long ride to the airport. She hid in the bathroom while her father verbally assaulted several airport employees so they wouldn’t have to wait in line. She had endured it all with the hope that she might find some peace and quiet on this trip. She should have known better.
She could hear her mother’s gentle voice trying to explain the situation to bystanders. “He doesn’t know any better, and the toy keeps him calm,” she pleaded. “You know, 9-11, the terrorists…and…troops. The troops. Bless them all.”
Her brother John hadn’t stopped laughing since the screaming began. She could still hear his cackling behind her. She slowly raised her head and turned to look at him. His entire face gleaned as his eyes seemed even wetter than usual. He lifted the front of his “Ass Man” t-shirt to dry himself. His stomach spilled out, revealing what looked to be part of a slim jim sticking straight from his belly button. David eyed it, grabbed it, and shoved it into his mouth all in the time it took John to wipe his face and lower the shirt again. Sarah really hoped that it was, in fact, a slim jim.
She looked to the aisle, scanning the rows of seats until she faced the front of the aircraft. It was at that moment she locked eyes with her mother.
Shit.
“Sarah! Oh Sarah, come! We have to leave the plane!” Janet exclaimed, almost a little too gleefully. Sarah knew her mother didn’t like flying, but surely she wasn’t actually happy about all of this.
She grabbed the nearly full Jack and coke from the hand of the old man sitting beside her and swallowed it back. He gave her a look somewhere between anger and confusion. She climbed over him to get to the aisle and used his face as support when she nearly fell. Not today, old man. Not today.
As soon as she stepped through the plane’s door, she saw John and David in a heated argument. John was shouting and pushing David’s breasts together. “David’s a scared little girl! A scared big boobied girl!” He attempted to motorboat them. David responded by shoving him against the wall. The entire jet bridge shook. A scrawny airport security officer looked on, terrified.
“HEY!” Sarah shouted. The boys, stunned to hear such an outburst from their normally reserved sister, froze in place. She walked straight to John and used two fingers to poke him in his eyes. He yelped and cowered back, defeated. Out of the corner of her eye she saw David draw the toy gun that he had somehow managed to hold on to. She easily pried it from his weak grip and whipped him across the face. He cried out in pain even though it was made of cheap plastic. She hit him again. Again. Again. She thought she heard someone clap.
She dropped the gun and walked towards the gate. She quickened her pace. She was almost running. She forced herself to stop when she came upon a Red Lobster. “This will have to do,” she told herself. She ignored the hostess and sat herself at the bar. “Three shots of Jameson,” she yelled to the bartender, trying to compose herself. She downed them in quick succession and let out a long, deep breath.
“Come here often?” she heard from her right side. When she looked she saw her father sitting three stools down. There were already four empty beer bottles in front of him. “How did you get out of there so quickly?” she asked. He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Easy,” he explained. “I never got on the plane.”
He never got on? She tried to remember seeing him on the plane, but couldn’t place him there.
“Why…why…” Mike lifted a hand to silence her before she could finish. He moved to the stool on her right and put his arm around her. He slowly leaned into her ear and whispered “Because I fucking hate all of you.”
He dropped his arm and allowed space between them. He asked the bartender for their checks. He had an oddly peaceful look on his face.
By this point, Janet, John, and David were standing at the entrance to the restaurant. Mike rose from his seat and gripped Sarah’s shoulder. His fingers sunk into her skin with surprising strength. She let out a gasp. “After you,” he hissed.
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