Flight (29 page)

“Oh.”

Kent takes a few steps towards them.

She watches.

He stops. Then says to them, “Go wait in the truck.”

Lynette takes the onion ring that she was just about to chew out of her mouth. “We're not going on the plane then, Daddy?”

Kent shakes his head. “No honey. Not today.”

Jeremy's mouth is stuffed. He's licking the grease from his fingers.

“Go on,” Kent says.

“Mommy's coming?” Lynette says.

Kent gives Emily a look over his shoulder, then focuses back on his daughter. “Yes, sweetheart; Mommy's coming.”

Emily watches the children leave.

Kent comes back.

She looks at him.

“Let's go,” he says.

She doesn't move.

He holds out his hand. “Come
on
.”

Still she doesn't move.

He stares right into her. “When you decide to give up this foolishness, I'll be waiting in the truck.” His eyes linger on her a moment longer, then he turns and walks away, his strides older, more of an effort to lift his feet. The accident, she thinks. Kinks in his armour. A man after all. Just a man.

A sound of engines to her right.

She looks out onto the tarmac. The baton-man is guiding the plane into a wide circle towards the runway. No other planes in sight.

A voice behind her then. The Air Canada attendant. “Too late now,” she says.

Emily turns away from the window and looks up at the woman. It takes everything inside her to stay seated, not to stand up and go outside to him. She stares harder into the woman's eyes.

“What?”

Emily says nothing.

The woman sits beside her.
-

A long silence.

“Is there something I can do?” the woman says finally.

“Let me just sit here for a minute?”

“Okay.”

Emily's tears are dripping onto her own hands.

The Air Canada attendant hands over a tissue.

“Thank you.” She dabs at her eyes. Blows her nose. Dabs at her eyes again because the tears won't stop. After a long time, she says, “All of this waiting, and the farthest I could get was the airport.” Laughter then; tears are running down her face, yet she's laughing.

The Air Canada attendant stares at her.

Emily stops. Breathes. Breathes again. “What good is running away if I have to keep looking over my shoulder? Or through the window above the door? That's not freedom.”

The thin woman just stares at her.

“Perhaps I was never
meant
to go. Do you think?”

The woman doesn't say anything.

Emily dries her eyes for the last time. Puts the tissue in her pocket.

Another moment passes.

Emily starts to get to her feet.

The Air Canada employee helps her.

They walk a little ways, then stop in time to watch the plane speed off down the runway and slip up into the sky.

“That's my favourite part,” Emily says.

“Take-off?”

Emily nods.

Neither speaks for a moment. Then the woman says, “It's coming down, for me.”

Emily stays watching for a long time. Then she leaves the security gate and goes toward the waiting truck. Walks through the sliding doors.

THE END

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To my first readers: Richard Hynes, Lori MacLean, Trona Balkissoon, and Gerri Hynes, thank you so much.

Gil Adamson, thank you for reading and offering such valuable editorial direction. Thanks also for your guidance and friendship. I am truly indebted.

Joel Hynes, your good word on my behalf was very much appreciated, as was all your sound advice.

Ed Kavanagh, your honesty made this book better.

Annamarie Beckel, thanks for giving the manuscript a thorough read. Your helpful comments and insights undoubtedly shaped this novel.

The Humber School for Writers, thank you. Especially, Michael Helm.

Wherever you are, Paul Quarrington, thanks for the wings and Guinness and shoptalk.

A special thanks to: Eileen Morrow at The Ontario Association of Interval and Transition Houses for the taking the time to talk to me about domestic violence.

Thanks a million, Paul Rowe, Sherry White, Brian O'Dea, Dawson Oake, and especially my mom, June.

To Donna and Janine and the whole crowd at Creative Book Publishing, thank you for taking a chance on a first-time writer, and for believing in this book.

And finally to my love, Michelle. It's only possible because of you.

The second youngest of eight children, Darren Hynes was born in Fogo Island, Newfoundland, but grew up in Labrador City. He has a BFA (Theatre) from Sir Wilfred Grenfell College, Memorial University of Newfoundland, and a Post-Graduate Certificate in Creative Writing from the Humber School for Writers in Toronto. Darren lives in Toronto and is currently at work on his second novel.