Page 44 of The Woman in 3B
Anissa and I walked back outside and waited a few minutes while Jimmy and another man pulled Anissa’s plane out of the hangar. I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the corrugated metal siding and silently watched while two men tugged the small plane into position.
“You look nervous,” Anissa observed.
“I’ve never been in a plane that small,” I was embarrassed to admit.
“You’ve never been in a personal plane before? I find that hard to believe.” Her lips pursed into a pleased smile. “No handsome young pilot has offered to show you his cockpit?”
I wrinkled my nose at her word choice. “Firstly, that’s gross. And secondly, we call it a flight deck now.”
“How progressive of you,” she teased. “Don’t worry; I’m good at this. I got my pilot’s license pretty quickly—not as quickly as you became a flight attendant,” she qualified, “but when I wasn’t flying commercially for work, I was in this plane with my instructor, and then eventually doing solo flights.”
“It’s really impressive,” I said, meaning it.
Anissa shrugged off the compliment. “The plane does all the hard work.” She handed me the clipboard she’d brought from her car. “Time to earn your keep, co-pilot.”
I let out a nervous breath, but I was determined not to disappoint. “What do we do first?” I asked.
“Preflight checks start before we even get to the plane. Is it sitting level or is it leaning to one side? Is there any obvious damage? Then, we get in the plane.”
“We don’t have to, like, check out the prop or look at the engine?” I wondered aloud.
Anissa’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re really cute—taking this so seriously.”
“I’d like to not crash,” I said.
“Get in the cockpit, Alice,” she deadpanned.
“Flight deck,” I corrected.
I gingerly climbed into the passenger hatch while Anissa perched in the captain’s seat. When I closed the door behind me, the airplane walls seemed to constrict. I was used to the confined quarters of commercial flying, but even that couldn’t prepare me for the narrow space within Anissa’s plane. The interior smelled like new leather and plastic. It made me wonder how much use the plane’s previous owners had gotten out of the aircraft.
“So, the first thing I do is make sure we’re legal,” Anissa began. “I’ve got to double check I have all my FAA required documents like my registration, air worthiness certificate, manuals and weight and balance information. Once we’re legal, I remove the control lock.”
She popped off a metal contraption from the yoke that looked suspiciously like a bent wire clothes hanger.
“I make sure all my gauges are at zero before I hit the master switch.” She clicked a large orangish-red button to her left and the whole plane began to whine. My pulse involuntarily quickened; it didn’t sound very encouraging. “I check the fuel gauge and make sure I’ve got enough gas.”
“How far can this go on one tank?” I asked.
“It depends on who or what I’m carrying. You’re just a little skinny thing,” she smiled, “so we’d probably make it over 600 miles.”
“Gotta check my flaps next.” She flipped another switch in the center of the control panel. She seemed to be talking to herself instead of me, but I didn’t dare interrupt. I didn’t want her to lose her place or forget a crucial step. “Make sure my flaps go down, good. And then master switch off.”
The humming sound stopped when she flipped the orange-red button again.
“Okay,nowMs. Worrier, now we’re going to pre-flight the exterior of the plane.” She opened the hatch on her side of the plane and climbed back out, so I did the same.
I stood beside Anissa while we regarded her aircraft. I observed her out of the corner of my eye. She looked casually stunning in her white t-shirt and ripped boyfriend jeans, but there was a lightness to her body and a nearly tangible energy vibrating from her form. If I’d ever wondered, this was definitely her happy place.
“You’re going to be my hands,” she told me. “I want you to run your hands along the body and the tail and make sure the rivets are in place and that there’s no cracks or other damage.”
I did as she instructed; I flattened my hands on the exterior of the plane and ran my palms along the white, shiny surface. It felt a little awkward, like I was feeling up her plane.
“Like this?” I asked.
“You’re doing wonderfully,” she approved.
I glanced over my shoulder to see her watching me, although the mirrored lenses of her aviator glasses obscured half of her face.
