Fly Like An Eagle

The sound of a snap that seemed to rush backward and something hovering in my periphery caused me to look up from my book. I was greeted by three oxygen masks, and suddenly the extra popping in my ears made sense. The whole affaire seemed suspiciously void of urgency; as if someone had let them loose as a joke. The bright yellow masks bounced around on curly cords like party hats dangling from the ceiling. Only, nobody was impressed with the joke and awkward silence left no room for laughter. I grabbed a mask and calmly untangled the elastic band from the cup and put it on.

After I got myself sorted out I glanced at my neighbor to the left, he was breathing deeply as if trying extra hard to stay calm. I smiled at him, and his smile told me he was alright. Then we both glanced at the crew who seemed tranquil. I looked behind me, concerned about potential panickers, and hoping that they had a hand to hold. As airline seats disrupt the view more than two rows back I contented myself to re-examine my own oxygen mask, which was inflating. I’ve heard the speech enough to know that inflation is not to be expected. Another quick look around revealed that my mask was the only special one. I decided that I was probably okay and entertained myself by squeezing out the oxygen and watching it refill. Then, wishing I had a hand to hold, I pulled out a letter I carry in my purse and read it.

Meanwhile a flight attendant had completed a check of everyone in the cabin, so I could only assume that all was well. As she was taking her seat the pilot confirmed this with a much anticipated announcement that everything was okay. This announcement was later followed by the news that the internal pressurizer could not keep up with the rapid change in altitude, thus the masks had dropped, just as they should. He informed us that oxygen masks were no longer necessary as he had decended to 9,000 feet where the air contains plenty of oxygen. Apparently it is unacceptable to fly for any significant duration at 9,000 feet so we went back to Saint Louis where another plane was waiting to whisk as off to Boston.

After the last announcement people tentatively took off their masks and the gentle rumble of conversation banished the awkward silence. I again looked behind me, and my neighbor said “Well, now we have a story to tell.” To which I confessed my long held desire for the masks to fall. Upon overhearing this, the other woman sitting behind me looked visibly horrified. I felt no remorse. Check. One more thing off my list.

As we were boarding the next plane, it was clear that this small danger brought everyone together in a pseudo incipient community. People were a little extra chatty; rehashing the event, making jokes, and sharing feelings. During the next safety speech everyone clapped when the flight attendant brought out the oxygen mask. At cruising altitude the beverage cart came through and more than the typical amount of alcohol was poured complements of Southwest.