Projects in the drawer

Jake looked out the window of the airplane. He saw a vast white field of snow and ice all around for miles and miles on the horizon, no signs of humankind. 

The strong air turbulence shook his thoughts of surviving in such a hostile environment, felt for almost 20 straight minutes. 

The contortion and the pressure felt inside made him think the fuselage was going to be torn apart. Chances of coming out alive in such a crash were not the best bet. What were the odds? Not good indeed. 

If one survived the crash, for sure wouldn’t survive the negative temperature down on the ground. But the pilot pulled it out of the air pocket to safety. From the cockpit, he assured everybody that the worst had already passed. They would land soon. The lively chitchat resumed among the passengers.

Soon they were in range and landed in Iqaluit. Jake noticed at the end of the runway a huge hill and thought to himself, 

“If the brakes don’t work, the huge hill will help stop them, for sure.” 

The passengers gathered their things and disembarked from the aircraft. New passengers were boarding. Jake was confused. His destination was Frobisher Bay. He didn’t know where the heck he was. 

He looked around and saw some people still seated, waiting for the aircraft to depart again. He asked the flight attendant if he that was Frobisher Bay. 

“Yes, this is it. Frobisher Bay has changed its name to Iqaluit. You’d better step out fast before we take off again. This isn’t a direct flight. Next stop will be in Pangnirtung.”

Jake grabbed his things and rushed to the door. The airplane was moving already. 

“Wait a minute! This is my stop,” like he was talking to a bus driver, pushed aside the boarding passengers, excused himself, jumped out of the plane. 

The plane took off afterwards. Jake stood in the middle of the windy tarmac ramp, alone and freezing, staggered with the landscape. The temperature was -40 Celsius.

“That was close,” he mumbled. “Now what?” 

What if nobody was waiting for him? He walked toward the airport building. 

City slicker, Durango leather cowboy boots, pointed toes, dressed in style for the nightlife of Montreal, not sure if they checked his baggage out. 

At the baggage claim area he spotted his lonely suitcase right away, going around in loops in the baggage carrousel. He grabbed it and headed out, hoping to see some friendly face waiting for him outside the airport. 

Out in the parking lot, he met a man and a woman standing beside a car. They waved at him. 

“Jake, over here!” 

He grinned and walked in their direction. He recognized the woman. She was the person who interviewed him for the job, back in Montreal. After all, things were looking good.