1

The bassline vibrated the walls of the hallway. She was leaving the bathroom, adjusting the hem of her shirt self-consciously. Had she forgotten a zipper? How much had she had to drink?

Why was it so bright?

She had to shoulder her way through the crowd. People gave her dirty looks. They weren’t dressed for the club. They wore uniforms, or joggers with hoodies, or shorts with ugly patterned shirts. But beyond them, she could see the oval doorway that led to the wide-open space of the dance floor.

They were talking about her, their voices barely audible above the noise. It would feel so good, to make it to that high, bright space and have room to move.

And to be with her, the woman dancing with her eyes shut.

She was in a dream, she knew that. But she wanted so badly to be back on the dance floor. No reality could be more important than that. She was pushing more frantically now. But the harder she pushed, the more they pushed back. Someone was shouting in her face. She craned her head to find the exit, to be anywhere but in this bright, narrow hallway.

She opened her eyes.

“Ma’am!” A wild-eyed woman was practically in her lap. She tried to kick but hit something hard, and pain exploded in her shin.

“Ms. Diaz!”

Her name?

The woman was wearing a uniform. A cop? A nurse?

She looked up and saw two circles dancing in and out of focus in an oddly low and curving ceiling. To her left, a portal, beyond it, blue.

She was on an airplane.

There were two other flight attendants standing in the aisle. And two men, one Black, one white. Big men.

She was on an airplane. And there was a problem. She was the problem.

She closed her eyes and held up her hands. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

“Ma’am, there is a team of emergency responders waiting for us at the airport. They want to know, have you taken any drugs or medications?”

She began to answer. Opened her mouth. Shut it. Tried again.

“What’s my name?”

The flight attendant glanced back at her colleagues.

“Your name is Janice. Janice Diaz. According to your boarding pass.”

“How did I get here?”

“Just like everyone else, ma’am. You boarded in Seattle.”

“And where are we landing?”

“LIH. Lihue Airport. Hawaii.”

Janice Diaz leaned back. “That sounds nice.”


Copyright © 2023 by John Teschner