Tomboy Island

“Two flights away from retirement.”

Those five words immediately let him know there was trouble. Adjusting the backrest of the co-pilot seat, the young man groaned. Nothing he did now would make the chair feel comfortable and there was a long flight ahead of them.

“Did you have to say that?” he asked the main pilot. “That’s what we younglings call a ‘death flag’.”

The older man next to him, Marvin Vandire, let out a deep laugh. In his pressed, white uniform he looked all around proper. A white man in his late sixties, he had been in active flight duty longer than most, a fact that only recently had started to show. It was no wonder then that he was going to retire soon.

“Enjoy the time with me that you have,” the older pilot said. “Next time we sit in a cockpit together, you’ll be in this seat, Alex.”

“You mean like every other time?” he asked. “Or are you starting to get forgetful?”

“There’s nothing quite the last time you’ll be a pilot in learning,” Marvin promised. A voice from the speakers took his attention for a moment. “Fuel tanks showing green. All systems ready and on standby,” said in a casual voice. The standard protocols were basically part of his muscle memory.

Relaxing a little bit, the co-pilot looked around. The cockpit was like that of most private planes of medium size. One of the reasons why Marvin had remained in active duty for so long, besides a love for the air, was their employer.

A patch with the acronym S.o.O.W. was sewn into the chest piece of both of their uniform. The letters stood for ‘Society of Olympic Women’. It was a UN-sponsored organization, focused on providing additional opportunities for women around the globe. Sometimes, he wondered if someone from a rather backwards country had named it. There was a reason they kept the extra o in there.

Unflattering acronym aside, the S.o.O.W. was a good employer for the two of them. Marvin had worked for them for decades and was only now being replaced. Alex was that replacement. He liked this workplace. Sure, sometimes being one of the few men around was like walking on eggshells, but most of the time all the athletes he was ferrying around either ignored him or just treated him like a normal human being.

‘I wonder if Jane will invite me out for a drink after I get my license? Been a while since we went out… Sofia should be around too… not sure if we should bring Selana though, that’s always asking for trouble.’

“Roger that,” Marvin finished up and grabbed the control stick. “Seriously though, you can’t tell me you’re not excited.”

“I am very excited,” Alex assured. “Which is exactly why I don’t want to crashland. I’ve got a whole life ahead of me.”

“A life in the air,” Marvin swooned, as the machine slowly rolled forward. “In this wonderful plane. Guess you never thought you’d have something like this to yourself?”

“Definitely not.” Alex checked the instruments around him one more time. Once they were on the airstrip, it was either takeoff or a fine and Alex did not care for giving his employer a reason to fire him just when he was about to get a new contract.

Like the position he currently held, the promotion was guaranteed to him by the stipend contract he had signed after the first year of flight school. He had impressed back then with his sheer physical ability. As an olympic organization, the S.o.O.W. had been biased towards a pilot that had a proper athletic history themselves. They also would have preferred a woman, but affirmative action did not provide everything. Therefore, Alex got the position. He still had the bulk from back then too.

As he thought back on his academy years, the plane was cleared for lift-off. The weather conditions were optimal, although the flight would be long. They were going all the way from France to Florida with 15 passengers on board. 12 of the world’s greatest female athletes, the S.o.O.W.s gym and PR managers, and a sports reporter that had managed to get herself in to make a documentary.

As a man in his mid-twenties, Alex couldn’t help but think about them wantonly for a moment. All of them were in the prime of their life, all of them were at the peak of physical fitness, and none of them looked anything short of gorgeous.

The thought was quickly chased away. Not for a presence of shame whatsoever. Alex socialized with the athletes regularly. They, like him, were constantly on the move and he was their way to move in most cases. Consequently, they spent time in the same hotels and Alex certainly had a previous experience or two with bored, nubile athletes.

That being said, he had a job to do right now. He was not just a good pilot, he was one of the best. He was certain of that much. His entire life had been leading up to it. After all, he had a family to impress. Alex came from money - old and powerful money. So old and powerful that Alex wasn’t entirely sure what his parents were doing to earn their wealth to this day. Stock trading, doubtlessly, but one did not have a family estate with an English-style mansion at the heart of it by trading stocks.

If he had less siblings, Alex may have been told. As the youngest of seven, however, and with rather traditional parents, his chance of seeing any of that wealth were extremely slim. He remembered the day his father had broken the news to him… and the heavy expectations placed on his shoulders.

“You’re meant to be great, son, so go and excel.”

Alex shook off the memories and focused on the sky ahead. They were high above the ground now and still gaining altitude. “All of the problems down there are turning smaller and smaller, aren’t they?” Marvin asked.

“Yeah,” his co-pilot answered and took a deep breath. This was their little ritual.

Skillfully, Marvin tilted the plane, balancing out the north-east winds of the day. Alex checked the instruments. “Reaching recommended altitude in 15… 14… 13…” The countdown progressed and Marvin slowly tipped the plane. The pressure stabilized and they were on smooth sailing. “Auto-pilot engaged.”

“A smooth start, a bit too smooth for my last proper flight,” Marvin complained.

“Can you stop collecting death flags?” Alex requested.

Marvin showed the younger man a smile. He was definitely doing it just to tease him. “Anything you are going to do in Miami?”

“Enjoy the hot weather?”

“Besides that. It’s a big city. They probably have a shop related to that weird hobby of yours.”

“Wilderness survival is not a weird hobby, it’s a wise investment of my time, especially with all the jinxes you are putting in our way today.”

“Jinxes!” Marvin laughed. “So you do know that word.”

Alex gave the pilot a confused side-eye. “Why wouldn’t I know that word?”

“You youngsters always forget words and replace them with something else. ‘Jinxes’ become ‘death flags’, ‘coloured people’ become ‘people of colour’, ‘kitchen appliances’ become ‘strong and independent women’...”

“Marvin!” Alex warned his teacher, even if there was no seriousness to his tone.

Marvin just laughed loudly.

The flight continued and the smalltalk died down. Soft music was put on, quiet enough not to distract but loud enough to break the monotony of engine buzzing. Minutes turned to hours. Below them was the atlantic. Endless amounts of water, curved by the shape of the earth, and the sky above, with only the occasional message on the air traffic frequencies to keep them company.

Alex was entranced by it all. He had always been. His mind remained focused the entire flight. Marvin did not quite have that energy of youth anymore and had his co-pilot hand him the thermos with coffee every hour or so.

“Hey, want to see Bermuda?” Marvin suddenly asked.

“That’d take us like 20 minutes off-route.”

“We do have the fuel for it.”

“...We do have the fuel for it,” Alex agreed, “but it is not our fuel, plus the weather there seems to be bad.”

Marvin did not have to check on the data, it was already open on his terminal. “Just some minor turbulence, been dealing with that for over fourty years.” He tilted the plane northwards.

“As your co-pilot, I formally protest,” Alex stated. This time, he was fully serious. “It’s not our fuel, it’s not our time, and it’s unnecessarily dangerous.”

“What are they going to do, fire me?” Marvin just dismissed with a wave. “It’ll be fun.”

Pressing his lips together, Alex suppressed further comment. By seniority, Marvin had the right to make the call. By sentimentality, Alex did not have it in him to deny the old man the wish. The plan was already in motion and a kerfuffle in the cockpit was worse than a detour.

To Marvin’s credit, he did handle the turbulences masterfully. The old pilot was looking wide awake, dealing with the incoming weather data like only someone who had been flying since before modern instruments could. “There she is!” he called out when the island came into view to the north.

“There she is,” Alex agreed in a dry tone and checked their altitude. They had dropped quite a bit. “Now, turn around, please?”

Marvin smirked and seemingly wanted to disagree, but a check on the fuel convinced him otherwise. “Can’t blame an old man for some fun on his last flight.” With that said, he turned southwards.

“Why aren’t we going back up?” Alex asked. They were less than halfway up where they should be and slowly dropping further.

“Turbulence. Should pass in a few kilometres.” Marvin stated. “Been through these before, don’t worry about it.”

Alex did worry about it. The co-pilot chair was suddenly uncomfortable again. Marvin’s smile slowly dropped, his eyes dashing to the pressure measurements over and over again. “I’m going to make a distress call, just in case,” Alex stated. Marvin just nodded.

The red phone was not something Alex liked to grab, but it was better to be safe than sorry. It was weird to hold a phone with a cord these days. Even weirder was it to only hear the static crackling of interference.

“I’m not getting throu-”

Alex was interrupted mid-sentence by an impossibly intense gust hitting them from the side. The safety belts kept them seated as all but the most essential instruments shut down. “Shit, shit, shit!” Marvin cussed for the first time in the three years Alex had worked under him. “Me and my big fucking mouth!”

The old pilot ripped the control stick back in an attempt to gain altitude. It was direly necessary, as the sideway gust was gradually turning the plane to the side. It was also the mistake that doomed them.

Women screamed in the back. Even hardened athletes would scream when the entire word was turned upside down. The turbulence they had been flying under rammed into the bottom of the plane, moving the private machine of steel and science like it was a leaf in the wind. Alex had never heard of anything like it. Had they drifted into a forming hurricane?

A question unanswered. Marvin was slamming emergency measures, trying desperately to regain control of the plane. It was futile. There was a terrible rattle, then a sharp, shredding sound. Through the glass panes of the cockpit, Alex could see the left wing of their plane tumble through the air. The sky was a beautiful blue. None of this made sense.

The nose of the plane tilted towards the water.

“I’m sorry,” Marvin muttered.

Alex bit back the ‘I told you so.’ “It’s been an honour.”

The intensity of the impact made Alex pass out.