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Disneyland Hostage
by Eric Wilson
from the series
Tom and Liz Austen
Have you ever been in a plane that's about to crash?
Pulling my seat belt tighter, I read the airline's safety instructions one more time. Then I wiped my sweating palms and looked out the window at the people standing around, totally relaxed.
The plane hadn't even left the ground, and I was already prepared to meet my doom.
The woman in the next seat squeezed my hand. "Just relax, Liz. Don't you love the colour scheme inside this plane?"
That's my Aunt Melody for you. Always seeing the good side while others look for the grim angles. Like the notice that said USE SEAT CUSHION FOR FLOTATION.
"You know what that means, Aunt Melody? When the plane crashes in the Pacific, we'll have to swim for shore holding the seat cushion. I bet old Jaws is already sharpening his teeth, waiting for us to drop in for dinner."
Aunt Melody laughed. "We won't be flying over the Pacific, Liz."
"Sure we will, when they have to dump the fuel before our emergency landing."
"Calm down, Liz. You've flown before."
"I know, but I still hate it. Why can't we get off this death trap and take the train?"
"After what happened to Tom on The Canadian, I'm surprised you think trains aren't dangerous."
There's no way I can win an argument with her, so I just sat back and listened to the sweat splash from my forehead. Beside me, Aunt Melody calmly returned to reading Variety, which is the bible of people in show biz. Not that she's a star, or even on the tube, but she does sing with an opera company in Minneapolis. She'll never be a Big Name, she says, but using her voice makes her really happy and I think that's great.
After inviting me to Minneapolis to visit her and see a performance, she was now treating me to a holiday at Disneyland. The thought of being in California had been giving me goosebumps, I was so excited, but at the moment I could only think of surviving Flight 101 from Minneapolis to Los Angeles.
Suddenly, it began.
There was a dull thump as the big door swung closed, followed by a terrible whistling roar as the engines revved up. I'm too young to die! I kept thinking.
The flight attendants enjoyed some kind of sick joke by demonstrating the use of emergency oxygen masks, then the plane was hurtling down the runway. With an amazing thrust of power we angled straight up into the sky, and for a minute I thought the other passengers would come tumbling back toward me. But after a few heart-pounding minutes the plane levelled off.
"Thank goodness that's over!" I exclaimed.
"That's right. Now there's only the landing left."
"Thanks a lot. I'd completely forgotten."
Way below I could see tiny farm houses and the sparkle of miniature lakes and toy cars on a six-lane sliver of road. As I stared at them a hand touched my arm.
I turned and looked up at a perfect man, a vision of golden hair and deep blue eyes. It took me a few seconds to realize he was speaking to me.
"Pardon?" I stammered. "What did you say?"
"Aren't you Lisa Hewitt, from Richmond?"
"No," I admitted, wishing desperately that I was. "My name is Liz Austen, and I'm from Winnipeg." He looked puzzled, and I added stupidly, "That's in Canada."
"Yes, I know." He shook his golden head. "The next time I see Lisa, I'll tell her she's got a double! You've got the same pretty dark hair and eyes."
He was turning away when Aunt Melody saved the day. "Won't you sit down?" she said, glancing at the empty seat beside her. "We'd enjoy talking to you."
The Vision settled down, and I had a chance to look him over more carefully. There were a couple of tiny scars near his right eye, but nobody's perfect, and I couldn't believe our luck. I was trying to think of a good conversational opening when Aunt Melody jumped right in.
"I don't believe we've had the honour...?"
"What?" the Vision said.
"We haven't been introduced. My name is Melody Symons."
"And I'm Kingsley Fortune. I can tell you're from Canada, Ms. Symons, because you've got such a nice turn of phrase."
"Why, thank you. Please call me Melody."
"Call me Liz," I added. "Have..."
But Aunt Melody cut me off with her own question, and I was left with my jaw flapping. It took me a few moments to stop seeing green, but then I admitted to myself that Kingsley was perhaps a shade too old for me. And if Aunt Melody could somehow make an impression, then maybe we'd see something of him in Los Angeles. What a thought!
Trying to give Aunt Melody some help, I broke into their conversation. "My aunt's been all over the world, Kingsley, and now she's an opera star."
He looked pretty impressed, but Aunt Melody raised her hand. "Not a star at all. Just one of the toilers in the trenches."
(Copyright by Eric Wilson)
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