Fearless by Rafael Yglesias Read Free Book Online

Bubble was excited, although she couldn’t imagine by what, since he faced the back of the seat in front of him, a dull sight made less interesting by its empty pocket. Both the plastic card which illustrated emergency procedures and the airline magazine had long ago been taken out. Bubble had used the card as a sword until he swiped her across the cheek. Carla retaliated with confiscation. Then he tore up the magazine until there were so many bits of paper all over the place that Lisa, in passing, embarrassed Carla by asking if she could throw the magazine away for her. Both removals provoked fits, two of three quarrels that were resolved only when Bubble passed out shortly after takeoff. He had been tired, poor baby. His strong will degenerated into petulance when his body was exhausted; otherwise he was demanding, not whiny; charming and manipulative, not sulky and a complainer.
    While they came down toward the airport his post-nap energy was comforting. She needed encouragement because after first seeing the runway and enjoying a moment of complete relief, Carla lost some of that hope at the additional sighting of the fire trucks and ambulances waiting for them. And her fear came back completely when the jet, which had seemed to be going smoothly as it went lower and lower, suddenly rocked back and forth. It swayed so far to the right that Bubble’s head went below the seat level and then jerked him back with such violence that she had to restrain him with all her might to prevent his skull from colliding with the curved window frame.
    This isn’t safe .
    She decided the aisle seat was better because of the cleared space on both sides. “Come on, Bubble, we’re going to move.” She fumbled between his back and her lap to release the seat belt with one hand, while she clutched her baby with the other.
    When she made the short hop over to the aisle seat, Bubble resisted. Only his lower half came with her. He had hooked the pouch with both hands and clung to it, stretching the elastic band to the limit.
    “You’re going to break it!” Carla shouted, ridiculously she knew. You sound like Mama , she mocked herself.
    The bottom of her seat hummed, her feet rumbled.
    “Jesus!” she yelled, frightened by the noise and vibration, and worse, panicked at their vulnerability. She was unbuckled and Bubble was stretched out as if he were a diver frozen in midair.
    A loud mechanical whine overwhelmed her shout and even the noise of the engines. What was happening? It sounded as if her part of the plane were coming apart.
    Carla yanked hard and Bubble lost his grip on the pouch. They were flung back into the aisle seat. His head struck her chin and she was stunned.
    For a moment she made no move and watched the passengers. It was surprising that they all faced forward, ignoring her area. No one seemed to care about the noise she had just heard. Also it confused her that the sound was gone and the trembling had been stilled yet there hadn’t been any result.
    Bubble was complaining. “Mommy hurt me,” he said. He tried to reach around to touch the back of his head, but his arms were too short.
    “Sorry,” she whispered and kissed his black head of hair. She glanced out the window. They were almost down. The earth scared her: huge and clumsy and gray like a whale, the runway filled her porthole. It seemed in the way.
    She hurried, fastening her seat belt. She opened her legs wide until Bubble slipped down onto the cushion and then squeezed them together, wedging her baby between her thighs. He squirmed and complained. She put her arms over his shoulders and crossed them in front, imitating the secure style of Bubble’s car seat. She was proud of her invention.
    The engines were quiet. They must have touched the ground, she assumed. Everything felt smooth and the sound was gentle.
    Bubble bumped his head back and then forward, rocking his body to gain momentum to break her grip while making noises of protest.
    Carla glanced