Read Crash Position Page 14

FOURTEEN

  A month later, the thrill of my new niche role was wearing off, and I was back with the usual crew.

  “Why don’t you act like a woman should and do what I say the first time?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  In the dimly lit cabin, I paused for a brief moment, in the hope that he was joking. I hoped that this was twisted sense of humour. The moment delivered no relief. The art of never saying no was something I began perfecting early in my flying career. Never mind that the meals and drinks had already been served and that my pig of a friend and his companion on the aisle had already been offered drinks during the service. Never mind that the crew had been running flat out for eight hours and wouldn’t mind a chance to scull down a cold cup of tea themselves. Never mind that these two men had paid for an economy seat, and expected first class service. Never mind they received the friendliest and most patient of smiles in the sky, yet insisted on returning with insults and sexism. I still couldn’t break the illusion of servitude. I could not say ‘no.’

  I was used to passengers hissing to get my attention, or tugging impatiently at my uniform. I once had an impatient woman put her rubbish in my apron pocket as I collected trays from the passengers around her. But nothing felt like a foot to the face like the blatant chauvinism we copped on particular routes. No cross-cultural awareness training could prepare the soul, for this too familiar attitude. There was no misunderstood intention here, nothing lost in translation. It was misogyny from another century at forty thousand feet that the company endorsed, and did so with pride. Their ‘never say no’ mantra was something that set the airline apart from other global carriers, and appeared to make even the common economy chauvinist feel powerful and important. It meant value for money and a sense of status for anyone who needed the psychological pick up.

  I bit my tongue and returned to the galley. I had made the shameful mistake of not adding the sugar cubes to the side of the coffee saucers. I sighed and closed my eyes. I was tired. I leant my head on the shelve edge above and tried to talk myself through the next few hours. I heard a noise that stole me away from my meditation. I squinted and could make out the figure of Cam sitting in the dark corner on his jump seat by the door. He was looking straight down at the floor. I dropped a sugar cube on the floor, picked it up look at it and motioned toward the bin. I stopped, and placed it on the saucer. I felt a little better. I opened the galley curtain and slinked my discreetly down the cabin and placed down the saucers on the tray table. Naturally there was no thankyou.

  Back in the galley, I moved over to Cam and sat down next to him on the other jump seat.

  He put his head up, and looked at me.

  “How are you going there Mr. Cameron.”

  “He feigned a smile that immediately sunk way as he returned his head to the floor.

  “Yeh alright, I suppose.” He lied. Something was certainly wrong with him. He had been vague and distant the entire trip. He had an air of melancholy about him, that none of the others in our self-interested group seemed to notice.

  The night before in Bangkok had been too eventful for a crew expected to operate an aircraft the next night. We knew that there would be no drug testers on shift before our duty, due to the public holiday so we were free to indulge as we pleased. The smell of lemon grass and smoke, punctuated by sewage and traffic fumes reminded me of where I was. This was the Bangkok signature scent. Every port had a smell about it that I stored in the library of scents in the back of my head. I held out at the back of the group as we walked through the market area. It was colourful and busy. Vendors enthusiastically greeted us and made us laugh with their witty sales pitches. I would have preferred to have explored the markets alone, but was busted by the crew in the lobby as I tried to sneak out. One must be polite, and social, Simon had pulled me aside to say. At the front of our group stood Tanya and Simon with a local named Kavi. He looked youthful and I guessed he was about 30, but could have been older. He was well dressed in designer clothes and spoke a casual street style of English that was handy for dealing with travellers. He used expressions like “Yeh, whatever,” and “it’s crazy man.” It made him sound less foreign and more trustworthy. He was one of Tanya’s contacts in Bangkok, ready to supply the crew with whatever they wanted to smuggle to their next port. He was also a handy person to have around when it came to getting into Bangkok’s most exclusive venues. Sometimes it wasn’t enough to be white with money. It took a little something extra, that a connected person like Kavi could provide to skip the queues and get a cordoned off area at the clubs for our private parties. Cam puffed on a cigarette, walking alongside me as we dawdled behind. Like me, it was obvious that he was not happy to be there. When he wasn’t smoking, he had his arms crossed and responded to questions with one-word answers. The group stopped by a food stand that poured out chilli scented smoke.

  “Ok, gather round. I don’t want nobody to see, yeh..” Said Kavi.

  Maria grabbed my arm to bring me into the circle. I grabbed Cam’s arm and brought him in. I later regretted it. The middle aged man at the food stand watched us as we positioned ourselves.

  “What about him?” Said Simon, pointing rudely and unashamedly at the middle aged man.

  “Oh don’t worry. He’s a cool guy. It’s the police I don’t like. You know. They’re crazy.” Said Kavi, reaching into his pocket.

  “Ok, before you go in, I got a little gift for you: a little thankyou for your business. A sample for you.” He retrieved a tiny bag with a white powder that wasn’t icing sugar.

  “So we will go into the club, very soon. It’s only a block away. But we should do this now.” His grin was huge. He was enjoying himself.

  Simon took the bag and took his sniff. He passed it to Tanya. She shook her head and snatched it out of Simon’s and and passed it down the circle. Each took their snort of the Kavi’s proud new work. The two blonde girls who had been giggling with each other the whole trip took their turn. “Oh I can feel it already!” Said one.

  “Oh, bullshit you can!” Said the other blonde.

  “Yeh, you’re right. I’m lying”

  They broke out in laughter.

  Next was Cam. Who reached out an arm while the other stayed crossed. He looked at the bag. He was unimpressed.

  “Have some my friend.” Said Kavi.

  “Yeh, have some, honey.” Said one of the blondes.

  He shook his head.

  “No, fuck it. I don’t want any.”

  I was about to take the bag from his hand, when Tanya interrupted the transfer.

  “Have some Cameron! Take it! Don’t insult our friend!”

  The mood changed instantly. The two blondes stopped giggling and their faces turned solemn. Everyone stood at attention. Tanya was exerting her authority.

  “You will like it. I promise, I promise.” Said Kavi, who was the only one smiling.

  Cam threw down his half smoked cigarette and opened the bag. He snorted away and handed the bag over to me. All eyes were still on Cam, so my snort was half assed and lacked enthusiasm. I passed it along to Maria. Kavi was staring at Cam, who was still sulking and seemed bitter to have been scolded in front of the other crew.

  “My friend, you look so sad.“ Kavi said.

  Cam did not respond. His arms were still crossed. The drug evidently had not yet taken effect.

  “What’s your name?” Said Kavi.

  “Answer him!” Barked Tanya.

  Cam sighed. “You can call me Cameron, or Cam.”

  Kavi’s face lit up. His smile grew wider. He wanted to laugh.

  “You know what is this word in Thai. This “Cam.” Said Kavi.

  “No.”

  “It’s you know like, ahh…” he grinned, “it’s like a naughty word.” He giggled. He had sparked the intrigue of the group who were pivoting their gaze between cam and Kavi, their heads twisting back and forth waiting to find out.

  “Its like, ahh..down there,” he said pointing to his groin.
r />   The group burst out laughing. The mood was back to where it had been.

  “Well Cam, looks like you need a new nickname,” said Simon, with a grin of satisfaction, as he started making obscene suggestions for the new name.

  Cam didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. His mind was elsewhere.

  “So…, are we ready?” Said Kavi, stowing away his magic powder.

  Tanya nodded and we continued on past the stalls and out of the market to a back alley where we would find our exclusive club. From outside, the thumping music told me that this night would be messy.

  Back in the galley, it was clear that Cam was affected by the come-down from the wild night before, together with fatigue and whatever it was that had been bothering him the whole trip so far.

  “Hey Cam boy. What’s troubling you?” I asked.

  “Well, Lizard…” He stopped, bit his lip, and closed his eyes.

  “It’s alright, tell me. I can keep a secret from these guys you know.”

  “It’s not that. I couldn’t care if they knew. It’s… It’s all out of control.”

  “What is?”

  “Everything.”

  “Oh come on…”

  “I came out.”

  “Came out of where?… Oh..” I said, his meaning suddenly hitting me.

  “Yep, and it didn’t go so well.”

  “You mean, your family? They didn’t know?”

  “Nope. It’s been the elephant in the room for a while now. Friggin’ Babar.”

  “Oh damn, I’m sorry, Cam.”

  “Yeh, thanks. They say mothers always know. But it was my Dad who lost it of course.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I feel like an idiot. I watched this video on youtube where this guy calls his Dad and tells him he’s gay and he’s all cool with it. Doesn’t freak out at all. So, stupidly I thought that might be how it could go for me. I guess I was inspired to finally do it.” He shook his head in a gesture of remorseful disbelief.

  “So, I called home a few days ago, and spoke to my Dad, and it got completely out of control.”

  “Oh.” I said, unsure of what I could say to make him feel better, but I knew he wanted to talk, so I let him go without interrupting.

  “So, I told him that there was something I wanted to tell him for a while, and that I was sick of hiding things…and I just told him: I’m gay. Then he doesn’t say anything. Just goes silent. I know he’s still on the phone, so I wait about half a minute, and then I start apologising. I know I shouldn’t apologise, but I just felt I had to.” He breathed in deeply. “Then he lost it. ‘What do you mean your gay? So you’re a fag are you? My son’s a fag!’ he just kept going on and on.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Cam.” I felt I should offer some kind of conciliatory remark.

  “And then I kinda lost it too. I just went off the deep end, and probably made it worse. I said ‘yes I’m a fag!, I’m a fucking faggot! Your son’s a fag. How do you feel, Dad?!’ ” He was shaking his head again.

  “Now I don’t know what to do. I haven’t spoken to him since. My mum tried to call me, but I haven’t spoken to her either. I don’t know what to say or what to do. It’s all out of control. This job. These fucking people here at this airline. You know who I’m talking about. Everything!”

  “Look just take it one day at a time, and everything will fall into place.” It was the best I could do. I didn’t have the wise answers needed to solve his problems and I felt terrible for him.

  “We’ll see, hey. We’ll see. Anyway, thanks for listening.”

  “You’re welcome. Anytime, Cam. Anytime.”

  He stood up and wiped his eyes.

  “You know, we should hang out some time back at the base. You know how isolating it can be there. It would be good for both of us.” I said.

  He smiled. “Yeh, we should try that some time.”

  He disappeared through the galley curtain out into the dark cabin. I pulled out the magazine I had been sitting on and flicked through the gossip pages. Images of celebrities eating ice cream, food shopping and sunbaking on the beach took my mind away for a while.

  The screaming must have been heard by everyone on the plane, from the people in first class down to those crammed in next to the galley at the tail end. From where I was standing, directly adjacent Cam, I had a perfect view of it all.

  The seat belt sign had gone on for landing, and it was time to check that the passengers had complied with the simple and reasonable request to put away tray tables, stow bags and pack up electronics. We had been generous in giving the passengers an extra minute or so, as we were a little sluggish to begin our check, rubbing our eyes with fatigue. As I walked down the aisle, keeping sync with Cam on the other aisle, our heads twisting left then right, over and over, Cam came to a stop. Then the voices got louder.

  “You’ve been asked to put it away.”

  “I will put it away when I’m ready,” said the man in his seat, laptop computer still out, with table folded down.

  “No, you have to do it now.” Cam was irritated. I knew he was exhausted. He didn’t need anyone to push his buttons at this point in the flight.

  “You listen to me, young man. I will do it when I am ready and if I am ready.”

  “NO NOW!”

  “You go away!” The man dismissively waved his hand as if swatting away an imaginary fly.

  I had paused my final check. Cam needed some back up, so I called over to the man.

  “Please sir, it has to go away now. It’s for everyone’s safety.” I hoped he might respond to a woman better than a man. I was given the flight swat too.

  “You are not in control! I have control!” Yelled Cam.

  Smack! Cam slapped the laptop shut. He picked it up. The man looked up at him.

  He swung it back as if it was a baseball bat.

  Smack! It hit the man across the face.

  Smack! He hit him again.

  He drew it back again. Smack!

  A mist of blood erupted into the air.

  Smack!

  “I have control you hear me!!!” Cam screamed at him.

  Passengers screamed.

  Smack!

  “Cam! No! Stop!” I said.

  Smack!

  “I have control.”

  Two men appeared, one middle aged one probably in his mid twenties; both strong looking pulled him away. The bloodied laptop fell to the ground.

  Cam was hysterically crying now and had fallen to his knees. Laptop man was mumbling, his face covered in blood. His head fell back against the headrest. The woman next to him, her face sprayed with blood, was finally registering what was happening and began to scream. It turned out to be his wife.

  People were standing up from their seats trying to see the source of the commotion. Tanya had entered the cabin.

  “What’s happening here?”

  “Fuck you Tanya! That’s what’s happening!” Cam’s eyes were red, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “Cameron!” She said.

  “Yeh, fuck you! And when we get off. I’m gonna make sure that you go down too!”

  “Shut..Up!!!” She said.

  “You’re finished Tanya! Fiiiinisshhhed!” He was laughing like a mad man.

  Maria, ran up from the back of the cabin, with the handcuffs.

  “Here, put them on.” She said to the older man, passing over the shiny cuffs that no one had ever expected to use on a crew member.

  “I’m so sorry Cameron. You’re not well.” Maria said as she bent down to Cam’s eye level. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She stood up and turned to the man, in his seat bloodied and battered.

  “Oh my God What has happened to you?!” The other crew from the back ran up with the first aid kit, ordering passengers to sit down.

  “Ah thanks honey,” said Maria as she snatched the first aid kit, “now, you keep still!” She went to work, wiping away blood and applying bandages. Tanya was sta
ring at Cam, fury scrawled across her face. Furious that Cam had ruined her smooth flight. Furious that Cam had threatened to destroy her. Furious at his sheer audacity. The two men slapped on the handcuffs and dragged him to an empty seat for landing. He was calmer now.

  Needless to say, Middle Eastern prisons are not nice places, especially for foreigners. I knew of two other crew who had found there way behind bars in our host city. In a galley gossip session I learnt that a young woman about my age had been involved in a car accident that was not her fault and had to remain locked up until the trial date. The other party in the accident, a local, was free. The judge taking the pre-trial hearing had not taken kindly to a foreigner “destroying the harmony” of his city. The company declined to offer any advice or legal help. Clean hands make for clean PR. The other was a man from Canada who had written a bad cheque. Even if it was written for a small amount, bouncing a cheque, even accidently could see you locked away with murderers and terror suspects.

  The entrance to the prison looked like all the other modern buildings in the city. The glass and concrete facility, fronted by a lush green lawn that was must have wasted tons of water a year to battle the desert elements, gave the appearance of a university library. The reception was similarly sleek and architecturally inspired. The sheen and glamour of the place slowly faded the deeper into the building I went until I found Cam behind the glass in the visitor room. He looked worse than when I last saw him being escorted from the plane by the local authorities. He forced out a smile which quickly melted away. He was pale and beaten down. His eyes were tired and he looked older. He was fading away.

  We only had minutes to talk.

  “I’m not gonna ask what’s it like in here, because I know it can’t be that nice.” I said.

  “But I just want you to know that we’re thinking about you.”

  “Bullshit, Lizzard!” He said. “You might be. But I know that no one else is. I’m fine with that. You can believe me. I really am.”

  “Well, uh, Maria was going to come with me. She had the day off, But, uhh, she, uhh, had her nail appointment or something like that.”

  He nodded his head, and looked down at his hands resting in front of him.

  “Do your parents know what happened?”

  “No.”

  “Has anyone else come to see you?”

  “No.”

  “I know it’s a long shot. But have you heard anything from Tanya?”

  He exhaled and shook his head, still looking at his hands.

  “Well, I might try to see if she can put in a good word for you. Since she has flown so much with you, she might be taken seriously as a character witness. She owes you that much.”

  “She won’t. Not if it puts her in a negative light. In fact I want to take her down with me, but I don’t think anyone will believe me, if I tell them the things she does.”

  “I know. It sounds all so…incredible.”

  “And I think it would only hurt my cause. Like I’m trying to shift the blame. It’s all about personal responsibility here.”

  “Damn her. Cam. Damn her.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh and by the way. I know we’ve all fantasised about hitting a passenger over the head with a computer, but hey...” I smiled. He smiled back.

  “I’m sure you’re the subject of galley gossip around the world. There are different versions of the incident appearing all over the net. You know how inaccurate aviation reporting is. But anyway, you’re becoming quite the folk legend already.”

  On the bus back to the compound, I sat with rage pulsing through my system. I blamed Tanya for what had happened. She knew he was vulnerable, but cared more about “insulting her friend” than looking out for Cam’s welfare. I blamed her for his dramatic come-down on the plane. And now she acted like nothing had ever happened. She would not even defend him. She should have been in the prison, eating shit, and staring at a concrete wall 23 hours a day.