I’m Going Straight to Hell
To read this sordid fictional saga from the beginning, please click here.
“I can’t put you on this flight.” The airline shrew, Satan’s stoolie, said it with flippance. Like the snow wasn’t blowing a screen of white outside. Like every flight would make it out that day. In fact, she even emphasized her point. “All the flights are going. They are. You’ll be fine leaving at 4:30.”
“We’ll never make 4:30.” The wife, she was always a pessimist. Her whole life, she fought the demon of negativity, battled it with an iron will, pretended to be positive, so perky that everyone thought that’s exactly what she was.
Until she encountered the worst situations.
Her husband knew the real, the dark, her.
In ten minutes, they were through checking bags. Through immigration. Through customs. Even through the enticements of duty-free. They were standing in front of the gate for the flight they were supposed to be on.
It was still there. Still boarding.
“We should try to get on that flight.” She threw it out there, casual-like. Somehow, her negative inner twin knew it would be the last flight that left that cursed day.
And, so it was.
“I can book you on the 11:35am to Boston tomorrow.” The same smolder of hell-fire behind those shrew-ish eyes. “You’ll be in Milwaukee by tomorrow night.”
The exhausted couple booked themselves into an airport motel. Rode the shuttle. Ran with all their luggage through knee-deep snow and howling wind. They drank. Oh, how they drank, until they heard Satan’s cackle mixing with the wind outside. “You won’t make the 11:35. I’ll see to it.”
Ladies and gentlemen, Air Canada flight blah-blah-blah to Boston has been cancelled. The devil touched the landing equipment, and the plane is broken, and because the bowels of hell are involved, we can’t fix it.
“That’s what I get for saying we wouldn’t leave yesterday. I’m sorry, Dear. Me and my negative mind. It jinxed us. I’m so stupid. I’m badbadbadbadbad.”
“Stop crying, Sweetheart. Really. Stop it. People are looking at us. STOP. NOW.”
“Hello, Sir. I can book you and your wife on the 5:55pm to Boston, ending in Chicago the following morning. No flights to Milwaukee, though.”
“We’ll rent a car and drive.”
“Why can’t we just freaking rent a car and drive from here? Really” Why can’t we?”
“I already told you to stop crying. STOP.”
“But, we’ll be like that movie. Like John Candy and Steve Martin.”
“Don’t even bring that movie up. Just stop talking.”
“But – “
“We’re NOT renting a car, and that’s the end of it.”
Ladies and gentlemen, the 5:55 Air Canada flight to Boston has been delayed until 8:55pm. Thank you for your patience.
“I TOLD you we should’ve driven.”
“How was I – “
“Don’t talk to me anymore.”
Welcome to Boston! We are so sorry for the awful time you’re having, and we’ve booked you on a whole new itinerary in the morning, all the way to Milwaukee. Aren’t we the greatest? Here’s a bunch of vouchers for everything, and thank you for flying Air Canada.
“Sweetheart, please stop crying and just go to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning. We have great flights and everything.”
“You should try to call and check us in.”
“Why?”
“Just do it. You’ll see.”
Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled. Flames shot from cracks in the earth, and Satanic cackles shot like evil fireworks into the night sky.
“Sir, you and your wife are not booked on any of these flights. Good luck getting to Milwaukee tomorrow.”
“But, wait! WAIT!” She waved two crumpled coupons in her husband’s face. “We got these in Montreal. American Airlines from Boston to Chicago. PRIORITY. 8:35am. Maybe they’re still good. Maybe our luck is turning……….”
To read the first installment of this fictional saga, 
