D. Wearmouth - First Activation

At thirty-six thousand feet high and travelling six hundred miles per hour, our Friday morning flight from Manchester to New York, was making good progress over the Atlantic Ocean. I had been looking forward to this trip for months with my brother, Jack, who was snoring in the aisle seat.

We were due into JFK at two-thirty, and I couldnt wait to get through the airport and into New York. The cabin crew had just delivered our snack, which was some sort of fancy pizza pocket. I washed it down with a small plastic cup of lukewarm coffee, and then stretched out. We had a free seat in the middle of our row, now covered with redundant iPads, magazines, and water bottles.

I grabbed the free magazine from inside the pouch of the reclined seat in front. It had a fantastic Statue of Liberty picture on the front cover, but inside, there was nothing to pique my interest. Who buys the plastic plane, neck pillow, or branded teddy? In New York, there would be far better things for my hard-earned cash to be spent on.

Nature called, so I edged past Jack and made my way up the aisle towards the vacant bathroom. As I squeezed into the cubicle and locked the door, I decided on a childish plan, and smiled at myself in the mirror. Id make Jack jump by increasing the volume on his iPod. After two solitary hours, I wanted conversation, and knew he would be eager to talk about the trip and which bar we would hit first.

I splashed my face with water, and then opened the door to find an irritated lady eyeing me as though I had stolen her handbag. I gave her a wry grin and received the crack of a smile in return, as we awkwardly nudged past each other.

Half way down the aisle towards our seats, I felt the plane drop and was thrown off balance into the closest headrest. A sudden jolt of violent turbulence ran through the plane, triggering a ripple of curses from my fellow passengers. The headrest belonged to a surly looking, middle-aged man with a baldhead and white moustache. I shrugged apologetically at the man who gave me a curt nod in reply.

Sorry, mate, I said, then walked the short distance back to our row and slid into my seat.

A Stewards calm voice transmitted through the loudspeaker instructing passengers to return to their seats and buckle up or words to that effect.

the fuck was that? Jack had been jolted awake.

What do you think it was? Ill give you two guesses.

He gave me a dismissive look and continued to rearrange himself in his seat. At least now that he was awake, we could talk about the delights that awaited us upon arrival in America.

So what are you looking forward to the most? A trip up to the top of the Empire State building? A cruise on the Bay to get a few decent photos of the Statue of Liberty? Times Square?

Whats in Times Square?

Massive electric billboards and Im not exactly sure but its famous and weve both heard of it, so well give it a go.

Central Park. Thats where I want to go. Ive seen it in

Collective gasps and the general chatter of raised voices filled the cabin after a series of four more jolts hit the plane in rhythmic succession

Jacks leg began twitching up and down; I could tell he was starting to get nervous. He wasnt a keen flyer, and any more turbulence would only add to his stress.

Dont worry, its only natural, just relax.

Closing his eyes, he laughed, Relax? Theres nothing natural about flying through the air at hundreds of miles an hour in a piece of metal.

Before I could reassure Jack any further, another safety announcement sounded through the cabin.

Time seemed to pass in super slow motion, as I sat in my seat waiting to be rocked around again. Nothing happened. The seatbelt light flicked off after ten minutes and was followed by a collective exhalation and the clicking sound of seatbelts being unfastened.

You sure we can take these off now? I motioned to our seatbelts with a grin. After the double warning from the stewardess, I thought they would have made us keep them on for the rest of the trip.

Jack smiled and nodded as we unbuckled our belts, They do love their health and safety, dont they?

I turned to look through the cabin and saw the middle-aged man whose headrest I had clutched earlier, stand and approach our row.

For fucks sake, I mouthed to Jack.

I looked up as he got closer, hoping to brush away any confrontation before it occurred, Sorry about grabbing your headrest, mate. If I didnt, I might have fallen into your lap!

Oh, forget about it. You seemed to need it a lot more than me. My wife asked me to come and see you, she said I was a bit grumpy when you apologised.

Its fine, no worries.

Whats a couple of young guys like you doing in New York? Business or pleasure?

I couldnt believe this man was actually starting a conversation with us. Who did that? Still, it was nice to be described as young. It was happening less often to us both, now that we were in our mid-thirties, although Jack would deny it.

Pleasure, Jack answered. We take a weekend every May to cut loose and enjoy ourselves. Were planning to see the sights, have plenty of beer, and maybe do a food challenge if we can find one. Our friends, Dave and Andy, arrived yesterday, so theyll have something lined up for us no doubt. Weve done something like this every year since leaving the army, and its now a bit of an institution.

If that turbulence is an indication of the weather in New York, you might not be able to see any sights. I live there, and even in the rain, youll love it! My wife, Linda, and I, are just returning from a vacation in England. Im Bernie.

Im Harry, and thats Jack. Why are you flying from Manchester?

Linda loves researching her family tree, so we decided to visit the places her ancestors lived. Its taken me to places I never thought Id visit.

Where did you go?

A couple of small villages in Yorkshire. Dont ask me to remember the names of them, but I loved the local pubs.

As long as you had a good break, I replied. Id love to have a drive around America, but its a case of finding the time to do it. Cruising on route sixty-six, stopping in motels, drinking coffee at a diner, you know, The classic American road trip.

Well, our trip was great, but its always nice to get back home, Bernie said.

I nodded.

Bernie continued to chat enthusiastically about some of the more obscure attractions of New York and Jack took some notes. Over Bernies shoulder, I could see America on the flight screen at the front of the cabin. We were less than an hour away.

This is your Captain speaking. Unfortunately, we have had communication problems with JFK, so we havent been able to confirm a landing slot. We will be entering a holding pattern shortly and as soon as we get confirmation, I will advise you on an estimated arrival time.

What does he mean communication problems? Dont they have more than one way of speaking to the airport? Weve been delayed, but hes just not telling us. Im going to speak to that god damn pilot, Bernie said.

I wouldnt do that if I were you, Bernie, Air Traffic Control are probably asleep, Jack shouted along the aisle, as Bernie headed towards the cockpit door.

Figuring this could provide some entertainment, I hopped over Jack into the aisle. He threw his head back and stared at the air conditioning in silence.

As Bernie approached the front of the plane, a male steward stood in his way, Can I help you, sir?

I want to talk to the pilot, Bernie replied as he tried to edge past.

You cant do that, sir.

The steward put his arm up and calmly blocked Bernies access. Bernie wasnt giving up, he pushed forward, trying to force past the stewards arm.

Sir, please go back to your seat.