I - II
“Desidera qualcosa da bere, signore?”
Guardo l’hostess che mi fissa sorridente e mi chiedo come le persone possano solo pensare di mangiare o bere qualcosa quando si trovano inscatolate a trentamila metri da terra in un aereo.
Faccio segno di no con la testa fissando l’assistente di volo e rimango ipnotizzato dall’arzigogolata acconciatura che è riuscita a farsi in testa per andare a fare il suo lavoro.
L’hostess passa oltre con il suo sorriso stampato in viso.
Sospiro e provo a riconcentrarmi sul libro che sto leggendo. Da quando l’aereo è decollato, circa un’ora fa, avrò letto trecento volte la stessa frase.
Non c’è niente da fare: volare mi terrorizza.
Mi volto alla mia destra dove siede un’anziana signora. Il viso è solcato da tante rughe e gli occhi azzurri risaltano in quel campo arato. Anche lei mi sorride e, riconoscendo nel mio sguardo il terrore autentico, dopo qualche secondo mi dice:
“Ha paura?”
Chance half smile
"Let's say you are not exactly peaceful."
The plane takes a vacuum, splashing me in the stomach and throat with his hand instinctively try to grab a hold before me invisible.
The old lady takes my hand unexpectedly.
"Do not worry," she says.
grateful I smile at her and she continues:
"Besides, if the plane falls, die instantly and do not notice anything."
I leave the shooting hand with a smile on his face that I die and I reflect that she is easy to say: I have thirty years, you at least a hundred.
I turn on the opposite side: there are a couple and a gentleman in his fifties. Sembrano così beati e tranquilli e mi ritrovo a invidiarli, perché io non ho mai fatto un volo in aereo sereno in quel modo. Torno a chiedermi come si possa essere rilassati in quell’inferno volante.
Il signore distinto in giacca e cravatta si gira verso me, poi come ricordandosi improvvisamente qualcosa di importante si volta di scatto e tira giù lo scuro del finestrino.
E’ stato un attimo, ma ho notato qualcosa di strano. Non ho fatto in tempo a distinguere cosa fosse, ma fuori dall’aereo c’era qualcosa.
Torno a voltarmi verso destra, ma anche da quella parte lo scuro del finestrino è abbassato. Faccio un rapido controllo intorno a me, ma non c’è un solo finestrino aperto da cui possa vedere out.
I'm getting paranoid or was there really something strange?
I turn my gaze back to the centuries-old lady next to me and, pointing with his head on the window, I ask if we can pull up the dark to look outside. The old
placid smiles at me and said:
"Better not. It does no good to those who see where we are afraid of flying. "
This then ... well I'll know better what to do when ...
not finish the thought. This time there is a small air pocket. The plane lost altitude rapidly. I hold the strong arms of his chair and I think we're falling and I just have to scream like the rest of the plane.
E 'in That's when I realize that, even if we're falling straight down, no one is uttering a sound or a scream of terror. I do not know how, but I can look around and I am amazed: not only are all in complete silence as if they were seeing a challenging film to the cinema, but is printed on the faces of passengers a beatific smile.
When I recover from the surprise, I realize that the plane is no longer falling and is again fully stabilized.
For the umpteenth time I watch the old lady. If
standing there watching me smiling, as if nothing had happened.
"But ..." he stammered, "she was not afraid?"
"What?" she said in amazement.
I do not know what to say. After a moment of silence, I say:
"The vacuum ... what the hell was that ... the plane was falling peak ..."
"Oh, she does ... you get used to that ..." She did not answer and
remain silent. I'm tempted to grab the lapels and scream against wearing it to fly I do not ever get used. And just now the plane was actually falling.
"For me it was so early that very soon ... will smile, too."
I look at her with dazed expression on his face, but what he's talking about? At that moment I realize
that the hostess was standing near me ... and guess what '... has a smile on his face.
He hands me his hand and says,
"Well, it's up to you."
"What?"
"It 's your turn," says the flight attendant a bit' impatiently, but without losing his smile.
"I do not understand, I ..."
not end a sentence that I find myself surprised by syringe stuck in his arm. The hostess had to keep it hidden in his hand behind his back.
The old lady smiles at me and says,
"Oh, do not worry ... it is the practice."
I feel that the serum is injected into my vena.
“Che cosa…”
Di nuovo non termino la frase. Giro la testa verso il signore distinto che sorridente mi fa un cenno con il capo e apre il finestrino giusto in tempo perché io possa realizzare cos’era quella cosa strana che avevo intravisto poco prima.
Perdo i sensi sentendo le labbra che si distendono in un sorriso.
Fuori dall’aereo quello strano animale, simile a un fagiano volante, continua a sbattere le ali ritmicamente come a dare propulsione all’apparecchio.
[continua...]
