Descent
Ryan Turner descended his small airplane through early evening storm clouds, approaching the long-lost hometown that his family abruptly abandoned twenty years ago.
Just as the quaint airstrip came into view through his rainy, cockpit windshield, a jolt rocked the plane. Alarm bells blared as the instruments threatened his time had come.
For an instant, the events leading up to the family relocation flashed through his mind.
The plane bucked and shuddered, then plunged. His instruments spun, needles danced erratically and panic surged as Ryan fought to regain control.
As a teenager, he didn’t want to leave, but in time he understood it was probably for the best, especially for his parents and siblings.
Invoking all his experience, skill and determination, Ryan managed to pull out of the nosedive before slumping back in his seat. With his heart hammering against his ribs, his gaze turned to the runway lights that now seemed impossibly close.
He missed his two old friends. One in particular.
The wheels touched down on the airstrip, and he taxied the plane to a stop. He sat there, catching his breath, as the worst of the storm slinked away, leaving behind an air replete with reducing rain and the ghosts of decades past. He stepped out of the plane and relief washed over him.
Jeff Spectre approached from the building and teased a greeting. “Captain Turner, are you in town for a love affair, or just stirring up trouble, as usual?”
Ryan chuckled. “Long time, no see, Jeff.” They shook hands, renewing their high school camaraderie. Jeff was one of the few who understood why he left and why he stayed away. He was the only one who knew why he was returning.
“You have any problems up there?”
Ryan grabbed his overnight bag. “I hit a microburst.”
“Whoa! You really wanted to be here to come through all that.”
“The storm came earlier than I anticipated. And the timing was good for this weekend.”
“Well, you always had a knack for averting the worst.”
They started walking towards the building. Ryan commented, “Man, I don’t think this place has changed one bit.”
“It has fewer flights, compared to then. And you’re probably still the youngest pilot who ever used this place.” Jeff leaned closer. “By the way, Abby’s inside.”
“What!” Ryan was panicked again – but a different kind. “What did you tell her?”
Jeff chuckled. “I told her you were coming because she got divorced.”
“Christ almighty, Jeff, that was only for your ears.”
Abby was the only one inside. “Hey there old guy.” Her words resonated with a nostalgic warmth.
Ryan had already composed himself. “Damn, girl, did you forget to age, or what?”
“You’re too kind. I’ve been through a century. And that was before the graduation you didn’t attend.”
“Yea, that was a time. I’m glad it worked out…”
Jeff interjected. “You mean you’re glad no one went to jail?” He chuckled. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Ryan.”
“I thought you were taking me to the hotel?”
“Abby will drop you off.” Jeff started walking away. “It probably helped that your dad was friends with the Mayor. And don’t forget, no one got hurt.”
Abby was amused by what Ryan didn’t seem to know. “Back then, when we were the three musketeers, it seemed you had everything figured out.”
Ryan smiled. “I was the one who was supposed to be surprising you.”
Abby’s eyes softened. “Well, I can assure you, I am surprised.”
At dinner, Ryan and Abby delved into the twists and turns of their respective journeys.
As the clock ticked away, they both laughed, reminiscing about the adventures of their high school days. Ryan couldn’t help but bring up his recent call to Jeff to reconnect with his past, when he learned about her divorce, resulting in a descending dance with near demise.
Abby playfully remarked. “It wouldn’t be like you to come back quietly. And descending was never your style.”
WANT MORE?
Subscribe to LIMINAL STORIES (free) for more short stories and flash fiction.