“What’s your greatest regret?”
I jolted awake as something jabbed me in the shoulder. I turned to face the flight attendant standing in the aisle, leaning precariously over the two empty seats to my right. Her unnaturally bony finger was still extended just inches from me, as if threatening to poke again. She smiled a smile so large, I worried the top and bottom halves of her head might completely disconnect. It may have just been the Jack Daniels talking, but I swear her mouth had far too many teeth.
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes with my knuckles. “I’m sorry, what?”
“In your life, sir.” Her mouth barely moved as she spoke again. “What’s your greatest regret in your entire life?”
“Is that… is that a standard question?”
She frowned. Finally, I thought.
“Sir,” she continued. “I have many passengers to attend to. Could you please just answer the question and we can both carry on with our day?”
I raised myself enough in my seat to glance around the nearly empty cabin, then back to the flight attendant. If this was their idea of witty in-flight banter, it’s no wonder they couldn’t fill the plane - even with their dirt-cheap fares.
“My greatest regret…” I said, scratching the back of my head. I looked down to my knees, which were pressed uncomfortably into the seat in front of me. “I wish I had taken a taxi.”
She raised her eyebrows and smiled again, this time without opening her mouth. “Very well, sir. Coming right up!”
As if on cue, a baby started crying just a few rows ahead as the flight attendant wheeled her cart toward the back of the aircraft. As the mother frantically tried to shush her child, I searched through my backpack for headphones. We were both unsuccessful. Sighing, I turned to my left and lifted the window shade. The sun had begun to rise, casting a bloody glow across the entire vista. Sparse, cragged peaks of the Rocky Mountains penetrated the clouds below.
A man exited the bathroom at the front of the plane and took the first seat across the aisle from where I sat. The cabin lights were still dimmed, but even in the darkness he looked familiar. He was tall and handsome, despite his receding hairline, and probably also in his mid-40s. He was wearing a CU Boulder sweatshirt. My alma mater.
In my periphery, I watched as he turned to face me. “So, the baby finally started crying, huh?” he said softly, with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be a real flight without it.”
I let out a forced, monosyllabic laugh and reached for a SkyMall magazine, hoping that if I focused my attention on something else the man would take the hint and leave me alone. Flipping through the pages, I saw countless items - mailboxes, strollers, car windshield repair kits - but nothing that I could ever imagine purchasing from a catalog at 33,000 feet.
The man spoke again. “Can you imagine being yanked out of nothingness and thrown into this hellhole of an existence?”
I jerked my head to face him. Was everyone on this flight insane?
“The baby, I mean.” He gestured toward the front of the plane, toward the screaming child. “Can you really blame him?”
The man took a sip of his beverage and shrugged his shoulders. As he looked in my direction once again, he furrowed his brow and pointed a finger at me.
“Wait a minute,” he began, his voice betraying his surprise. “Mike?”
The light from the rising sun had slowly begun to fill the cabin, and just as the man spoke my name, I finally got a clear look at his face.
“Gabe?”
He burst into an uproar of laughter as he stood from his seat. “Mind if I…?” he trailed off, motioning toward the other aisle seat - the one just two spaces to my right. Before I could answer, he had crossed the aisle and made himself comfortable. He shook his head back and forth with disbelief, grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s been so long!” He was practically shouting. “How the hell have you been?”
The plane violently lurched from side to side with turbulence, but the fasten seatbelts light remained unlit.
“Why are you here?” Before I could even realize that the words had left my mouth, Gabe let out another booming laugh.
“Why am I here? I’m here because of you!” He reached across the empty seat between us and slapped me on the shoulder. “Jesus, man. Is that all you have to say? It’s been, what, twenty-two years?”
“Twenty-three years,” I whispered back.
“What was that? Speak up,” he replied. There was an unmistakable anger in his voice now. A wildness in his eyes. “You look me in the eyes and speak to me like a man.”
“Twenty-three years,” I repeated, now meeting his gaze.
“That’s right! Twenty-three years.” He was suddenly jovial again. “Eighteenth of September, ninety-nine, if I’m remembering correctly. Beautiful day for some college football.”
My eyes darted across the cabin with fear. Near the front of the Economy section, the curtain that separated us from the First Class passengers was propped open ever-so-slightly by a few long, bony fingers. The flight attendant was peeking from behind, barely visible if not for her giant mouth full of blindingly white teeth. I didn’t remember seeing her return from the back of the plane.
“You remember tailgating that day?” Gabe continued reminiscing. “Who am I kidding, of course you don’t. You were probably nine beers deep by kickoff!”
“Please,” I choked out. “Just tell me. What do you want?” The words barely came out. A painful dryness crept up my throat and across my tongue. My stomach churned.
“You sound thirsty.” As he spoke, he reached overhead and pressed the button to call for a flight attendant. Almost immediately, she reappeared, this time approaching from behind our seats.
“Need something?” she asked, looking right at me and ignoring Gabe completely.
“Can I… Can I just have a ginger ale?”
The flight attendant puffed out her bottom lip in a look of sarcastic pity. “I’m sorry, sir. We only have salt water with parsley. May I get you one?”
Gabe raised his cup in my direction and pointed at it with his other hand. “It’s really good,” he said.
I shook my head, and she left with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Anyway,” Gabe said, drumming his fingers on the seatback tray in front of him. “Where were we?”
“Tailgating…” I said.
“The tailgate! That’s right.” I was growing tired of his fake laughter. “We couldn’t find tickets. At least, none that we could afford. That didn’t stop us, though. Man, what a great time!”
Movement up ahead caught my eye. The mother was standing in the aisle, holding her screaming baby. The cries had become louder. The child might as well have been sitting between us. I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against my ears, but neither the wails nor Gabe’s voice grew any quieter.
“We had so much fun in college, man. Why didn’t we stay in touch?” He stroked his chin and squinted his eyes, as if to ponder the question he already knew the answer to. Finally, he snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s right! I remember now.”
I waited, but he said nothing. I opened my eyes and turned to face him. He was staring at me, also waiting.
“Say it,” he said.
“Gabe, please…”
“Say it!” He banged his fists against the tray table and it snapped off its hinges, falling to the floor by his feet.
“Because I killed you.”
A soft bell rang throughout the cabin. “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Please remain seated as we make our descent to Denver International Airport. Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their upright and locked positions. It’s been a pleasure flying with you today. Thank you for flying Elament Airlines. We know you have many options, and we appreciate you making the right choice.” A soft, static hum filled the air as the flight attendant paused. “You always make the right choice, don’t you?”
Gabe fastened his seatbelt and stared forward with a smile. “I offered to call us a cab, but you didn’t want to split the fare. You said you were good to drive. My car was just a block away, you said.”
I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing emerged but a soft whimper.
“Did you ever make it to the party that night? I wasn’t sure. The last thing I remember is you jumping out of the car and running.”
“I didn’t know what to do. I was scared.”
“Of course! You were scared. And who wouldn’t have been?” He said. “I mean, I wasn’t scared, but that’s only because I was losing blood too quickly to think straight. But it was probably too late for me anyway, wasn’t it? At least, that’s what you told yourself.”
“I’m sorry…”
“It was definitely too late for them.” He waved his hand toward the mother and child in the aisle. Had they moved closer?
“At least I was able to brace for impact. They didn’t suffer. You splattered them from behind against a wrought-iron fence. They didn’t feel a thing. She was just out checking her mail with her newborn, and then it was lights out.” He reached over and put his hand on my knee. “Not a bad way to go, all things considered.”
Gabe sat mostly in silence for a few minutes as I wept into my hands. “Go ahead and cry,” he said. “That must have been really hard for you.”
After regaining my composure, I repeated my question from earlier. “Why are you here?”
“Because of you. Like I said.”
I fetched a pill from my bag and threw it in my mouth. I let out a cough as I felt it stick in my dry throat. Gabe offered me his drink, and I took a sip just large enough to dislodge it. The drink was bitter and grainy.
“You always were frugal,” he said. “Elament Airlines. What even is that? Had you ever heard of them before this trip? Be honest.”
I shook my head.
“You got kids?” he asked.
“Two. A girl and a boy.” I glanced at the woman and her baby. They were both silent now, and both staring at me. They were now only two rows ahead. “Olivia and Jacob.”
He smiled and reached over to pat my knee again. “Anna loved those names. I always knew she would be a great mom. Best girlfriend I ever had.” He paused for a beat. “I bet it was nice for her, having you around.”
“Sir,” the flight attendant spoke from behind. “You need to buckle your seatbelt.”
I did as I was told, fumbling with the belt as I felt my pill kicking in.
“How long did you wait before making a move on her? Six months? Less?”
“What do you want?” I begged. “What next? Do I turn myself in?”
Gabe chuckled. “That won’t be necessary. I’m here now. We can pretend it never happened, because it didn’t. You don’t have to live with it anymore.”
Then, he said the last thing I wanted to hear. “I just want to stay in touch.”
I turned to face him, and I could tell he recognized the fear in my expression. “Relax, buddy. Not every day. Let’s just catch up from time to time.” Beads of sweat poured down my face.
He asked me if I was living in Denver these days. I nodded. “I’m in Aurora, so we’re close. I’ll give you my number. You got a piece of paper?”
I struggled to retrieve the copy of SkyMall, then flipped it open to search for a blank section large enough for Gabe to write on. Seeing the stroller listing once again, blurry visions of a winding canyon road flashed in my eyes. I threw the catalog to the floor and pulled an airport parking receipt from my pocket instead, silently handing it to him while refusing to look him in the eye.
He quickly jotted down his number and returned the receipt to me. I shoved it in my pocket, fully prepared to burn it at my earliest opportunity.
Seeing the exhaustion in my face, he spoke one last time. “Get some rest, buddy. You need it. We’ll talk soon.” Unable to keep myself upright any longer, I laid my head against the window and drifted into a brief but deep sleep.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated.” A familiar voice filled the air. There was an innocence to it that hadn’t been present during the previous announcement. “We will begin deplaning in a matter of minutes.” I opened my eyes and looked out the window to see that our plane was parked at the gate. The sun had fully risen, basking the runways in a pleasant yellow glow. Relief blanketed me as I turned to my right to see that I was the only person seated in my row. The aisles were empty. No babies were crying.
I booted up my phone and immediately dialed Anna’s number. “The subscriber you have dialed is not in service. Goodbye.”
Fuck, I thought. Did I forget to pay our phone bill? It was probably for the best that we couldn’t speak yet. She would undoubtedly ask me how my flight was, and I was in no mood to lie.
As I returned my phone to my pocket, I felt a slip of paper. My heart began to race. Closing my eyes, I slid the receipt into my lap. Several minutes passed before I had the courage to look at it. Scrawled hastily on the back in blue ink was a Denver area phone number and a name. His name.
Fuck it. I opened my phone once again. I needed to get this over with - to confirm that I had lost my mind, but everything else was okay. As I dialed the number, my phone read “Calling Gabriel Weinberg.”
The phone rang six times before the answering machine picked up. It was a woman’s voice. One I knew all too well.
“You have reached Gabriel, Anna, Olivia, and Jacob. We can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message after the beep.” Two young children in the background excitedly shouted the word “beep!”
My phone fell to the floor, landing on an open copy of SkyMall. My breathing grew frantic. Anger welled within my chest as I held the parking receipt with both hands, glaring at the inscription. I jumped as the flight attendant called out to me from the aisle.
“Sir, is that a parking receipt? You had quite a bit of whiskey at the beginning of the flight.” I looked up to see her frowning at me.
“Might I suggest a taxi?”