The plane seemed to just drop out of the sky.
Straight down. The seatbelt tightened around Josh's midsection and his
juice skittered across the tray. He grabbed the edges of his seat
and clamped his eyes shut. Twenty-seven thousand feet up, the pilot
had said a few minutes ago. A long way down. And then he heard
a voice.
"First time on a plane, son?"
He opened his eyes slowly. He was still in the airplane,
still flying home to Manchester. An older man in the next seat
was smiling at him.
"We hit an air pocket. Dropped a few feet. Not enough
to even show up on the altimeter. Nothin' to worry about. This
your first time in a plane?"
"Huh? Oh, no. I fly lots. Flew this route just the other day."
"Well, then. You know there's nothing to worry
about. That's good. You visiting New Hampshire?"
"No. No, I mean, I live there. I live in Exeter. You ever
hear of it?"
"I live in Madbury. We think of you as one of the big cities."
"Yeah. I've been to Madbury. I think. It's near
Durham, isn't it?"
"Right you are. What were you doing in Detroit?
Visiting relatives?"
"No. I went out to interview at a school. I'll be going
there next year." Zowee. Lights flashed and cymbals crashed in his
head. Fireworks? He'd just thought he'd try it out. Oh, yes. I'm a
student at the Michigan School of Automotive Technology. Just see what
it felt like. He hadn't expected explosions.
"Oh. Where are you going to go?"
Big time. Let's try again. "I'll be studying at the
Michigan School of Automotive Technology. Maybe you've heard of it?"
"No. No, I haven't. But I know there are some
good schools out there. Is it connected with one of the car companies?"
"Uh, no. I mean, yes. They, uh, we have a working
agreement with the Ford Motor Company. Sort of an understanding,
if you know what I mean. It's very good for both the school and
the company." Allenson, you are in high gear. Lay it on!
"Well, that's very impressive. How did you manage to
get accepted there? You must be a very bright student."
"Well, one of my teachers recommended me." Keep
it coming!
"Ah. You must be in an automotive class already. It
seems to have paid off."
"No. Actually, my English teacher recommended me. I'm
a writer first, and a mechanic second. It's a funny thing, but my
story about working on cars written for English class is going to set
me up for a career in cars. Who would have imagined?" Who
would have imagined that this would sound so good, so sensible.
"The world is a strange place. You're a very lucky
boy. Some kids would be afraid to go to school so far from home.
What do your parents think about you going away?"
Oh, no. It's time to shut up. Josh was afraid of
tripping himself up, if he fabricated any more of his life. Maybe he could
say he was an orphan and this was the chance to put his life
back together. Or that his parents had encouraged him. Or that
they didn't know. He had run away from home and. . . . Or maybe
the truth.
"My mother encouraged me. She's never been very far
from home. And my teacher. She's like a second mother to me.
Thinks she can run my life."
"What does your father think?"
"He's dead." Josh let his chin drop and stared at the
seat back in front of him. Stupid. How had he let this guy box him
in like this? He didn't want to talk about his dead father. That
was ancient history.
"I'm sorry to hear that. It sounds as if you are a son
he could be very proud of. And you should be proud of that."
Josh stared out the window. He felt rude, cutting the guy
off like that. But Josh had been fantasizing a new life, one without
a history. That's what he'd liked best about Detroit, he realized,
that it would be a fresh start. No one would know that he was a
poor little boy without a father. No one would know about the ups
and downs, the yo-yo years of high school. No pity, no
expectations, just Josh, with a clean slate under his arm. He turned again in
his seat but his seatmate was engrossed in a magazine. Josh closed
his eyes and tried to imagine that all he'd said about life in
Detroit could become true.
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