Typical Day
Kent Flyright boards the red eye, gobbling up jellybeans like his life depends on it. The sugar keeps him awake. That and the double cappuccino he got in the airport Starbucks five minutes ago. While most of the passengers can snooze their way to their destination, Kent has to be alert at all times. The last air marshal to fall asleep on the job got himself taped and put on YouTube as a cautionary tale. Oops. Kent's career depends on keeping his eyes open.
Kent takes his seat at the back of the plane on the aisle. He's always on the aisle—easy up, easy down. The rear view gives him a clear view of everything going on in the plane without others noticing him.
Sometimes Kent lucks out and gets to spread his feet out, taking up the seat next to him because no one else booked it. At six feet, two inches, Kent can use the extra leg room. Other times, though, he is stuck next to a passenger. Today, Kent is excited to see an empty seat next to him...but not for long.
A bleach-blonde, forty-something woman bonks Kent on the head as she plops her oversized carry-on above him. She apologizes for the hit and introduces herself as Dot, a school teacher from Paramus, New Jersey, as she squeezes into the window seat, crushing Kent's legs and invading bits of his personal space with the wings of her pink and white floral ensemble.
Kent gives Dot a polite smile, saving the stink eye for the passing flight attendant who smirks. Having flown with Kent hundreds of times, she knows he'd rather suck on a hairball than spend an eight-hour flight this close to anyone, never mind someone wearing this much rose-scented perfume. Still, it's par for the course and Kent knows it. He hunkers down, trying to breathe through his mouth to avoid gagging on the heavy scent. It's going to be a long flight.
Kent eyes the crochet needles Dot pulls out of her bottomless bag, along with the balls of yarn attached to the world's ugliest afghan.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry but you'll have to put that in your purse under your seat until we take off," says the flight attendant.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I wasn't even sure we could take these things on the plane, but I'm so glad they let me." Dot turns to Kent, "I get so nervous on planes ever since, well, you know..." She looks around and whispers, "Nine-eleven."
Kent nods sympathetically, all the while looking for clues that this could be a ruse. When you're a U.S. Air Marshall, you have to suspect everyone. It's the ones people normally don't suspect who could be an undercover assassin or hijacker. Even mothers with babies are not off the list of those who could be a threat.
This is Kent's plane to protect, and he's going to make sure everyone on board is one hundred percent safe. If anything should go wrong, it'll be on him.
The airline stewardess instructs everyone that they'll be taking off soon. Then the captain gets on the intercom and says they have the go ahead, and they're off.
The plane shudders and shakes as it barrels down the runway. Dot grabs Kent's arm and clings to it. He remarks that she has a particularly strong grip for a teacher from Paramus.
Dot ignores him and squeezes her eyes shut. "Are you used to this? I don't think I'd ever get used to this. Is it over yet? I'm going to shut my eyes and you tell me when we're up in the air. Okay? Okay?"
"Okay," says Kent.
"Okay, you'll tell me? Or okay, we're up in the air?"
"Okay, I'll tell you," he replies.
A minute or so later he tells her, "Okay."
"Okay, I can open my eyes?" she asks.
"Yup. We're up in the air."
Dot opens her eyes and looks out the plane window.
"Whew. So we are." She remarks.
In the front of the plane, there's a ruckus brewing. Apparently one of the passengers is getting out of his seat before the seatbelt sign is off. The flight attendant is arguing with him. Immediately, Kent's antenna goes up. Could this be a threat? He watches and listens intently.
After about half a minute, it becomes evident that it is not a threat. The man just wanted to go to the bathroom. Kent relaxes—but only slightly. It's a long way to Seattle.
After the seatbelt sign has been turned off, the airline stewardess offers everyone drinks and pretzels, but nothing else. You can pay for a meal if you're hungry, but Kent's not hungry enough to fork over his credit card. He opts for a Coke; Dot asks for a glass of prune juice.
"For my digestion," she explains. "I have diverticulitis."
"That sounds terrible." Kent sips his Coke slowly and goes back to eyeing everyone on the plane.
As Dot prattles on about her diverticulitis, her ulcerated colon, and whatever else comes to her mind, Kent flips through the on-flight movie listing. The choices are disaster pics and a medical drama about how a flight filled with Ebola patients turn into vampires. Not exactly reassuring fare for any of the nervous nellies on this plane.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kent sees a man on his laptop computer eyeing the other passengers nervously. Kent feels his pulse jump. Could he be a threat? What is he looking up? He gets up on the pretense of stretching and checks it out.
Nope, not a threat. The man is playing online poker.
The rest of the flight goes by fairly unremarkably. Dot ends up taking a snooze and drooling on Kent's shoulder. Most of the passengers fall asleep at one time or another—often the case with these red eye flights. Good thing Kent has his big bag of jellybeans and lots of strong coffee.
He flips through his book, With a Vengence, half-reading but always attentive to what's going down on the plane. It's boring and uneventful, nothing like the book, which has an air marshal saving the day. Kent used to have dreams about saving a plane, capturing a bad guy, and being a hero. Now he just wants to get through the flight without dozing off—that's the real struggle.
When they finally land, Kent's workday is done. He disembarks, winking at the flight attendant, who invites him to, "Fly again soon."
"Tomorrow morning soon enough for you?" he says, half-joking.
"Better get some good sleep tonight then. Sounds like a long day tomorrow for you."
"For you and me both," he says and walks off to the airport shuttle. It will take him to his motel, which is just a few minutes from the airport. He needs a shower and a nap.