Beth's Rough Flight

It wasn't as if Bethany had never flown on an aircraft before. After all, she'd gone to Des Moines in her uncle's Beechcraft when she was twelve. That was a long ways from the city of McCook, Nebraska, where she grew up.

This, of course, was quite a larger aircraft, and she was going quite a bit farther than Iowa. She was going, in fact, all the way to France! And all by herself! Of course, it wasn't like she was a twelve year old. She'd graduated from Jason Danbury high school last year and now worked at Gorman's Feed and Supply as a store clerk.

It was still only the second time she'd been out of Nebraska, though, and she was more than slightly nervous about it. She had prepared, of course, by researching what people wore on long haul aircraft, and was dressed appropriately in loose linen drawstring pants, a loose blouse, and an over-sized shawl/wrap, just as the web sites had recommended.

She had all the things in her bag they recommended, including extra water, Tylenol, anti-nausea pills, snacks, lip balm, hand moisturizer, her eBook reader, paperbacks (in case it ran out of batteries), headphones (in case the ones on the plane didn't work or were poor quality), a sweater with a hood, in case it got cold, and assorted other sensible things.

Beth was, and was proud to consider herself to be, a sensible and modest girl. She didn't take chances or risks, and was always very careful about what she did or said. Going to Paris was probably the most adventurous thing she'd ever contemplated in her life, even if she only agreed because Natalie kept badgering her to do it.

Natalie was the French exchange student who had stayed with her neighbor, Mrs. Frost, last year at high school and who she'd gotten quite close to. She was going to spend two weeks at Natalie's house and Natalie would show her Paris!

The first aircraft wasn't very large, and had flown to Denver, which she thought was odd, since Denver was west when she wanted to go east. But apparently the connections were better there, and cheaper, and she got on a gigantic airline there headed east for Detroit.

The first part of the trip was exciting, and she stared out the window often, having made sure to get a window seat in the rear of the aircraft. The rear of the aircraft was considered the safest in a crash. She had compromised, however, since the middle rear was safer than a window seat. But she definitely wanted to see the world from so high up!

She saw very little of Detroit as she switched planes again, which, she was just as grateful for. From all she had heard the place was practically a third world hellhole full of crime, gangs, fire, and abandoned buildings. It was also full of black people, who were largely responsible for all that violence and fire.

There were no black people in McCook, but she had seen them on television. And they always seemed to be pictured in police mug shots as being wanted for murder or something else horrible! When she saw them live (on TV) they were usually angry, yelling, shaking their fists and throwing things.

She wandered around the airport to stretch her legs, and also got to refresh herself in a real bathroom, not those tiny ones in the plane. She washed her face and brushed her shoulder length blonde hair out, and even washed her glasses before slipping them back onto her nose.

She got on the new airplane and headed to the rear window seat, then reached up to the overhead bin to slide her bag in. Beth was not a tall girl, however, and the bag, which was made to exactly fit the overhead bins in aircraft bulged a little and was hard to push in.

She started as she realized there was someone beside her and jerked her head around to see a very large black man standing just beside her, watching her, or more precisely, looking down at how her cotton blouse pressed in firmly across her ample chest as she stretched up and out.

“Let me help you with that, baby,” he said.

He moved forward, pressing into her from behind, reached up, and shoved the bag into place.

Bethany gasped, her heart suddenly thumping, and scurried forward across the two seats to reach her window seat.

“Tha-thank you!” she gulped, turning to look at him, eyes wide.

He wasn't looking back, however, but pushing his own bag into the bin, and right next to him was another large black man! Both of them looked horribly dangerous looking, like every wanted poster she'd ever seen!

And then they slid into the two seats next to her!

The one next to her was very large, barely fitting into the middle seat, and his thigh was pressing, inadvertently, she was sure, against hers! Beth quickly tilted her knees inward to towards the bulkhead, her pulse racing, and looked studiously out the window, feeling a great sense of anxiety.

The flight was going to last twelve hours! She would be squished in here that whole time!

The plane taxied and took off, and she focused on the view out the window as they headed across a great river, then up higher into the clouds. The two black men talked to themselves, in English, though she often couldn't quite understand what they were saying.

One of them seemed angry, though, about something, and she felt a sudden fear they'd get into a fight right there! That didn't happen, however, and as the flight continued she began to relax. She watched a movie on the screen on the back of the seat before her, and they did the same.

She could hear them talking from time to time over the sound of the movie in her headset, but had no idea what they were saying. When the movie ended she put on her glasses and began to read from her eBook reader. But then the stewardess came by to serve dinner, which she found rather plain but at least hot and somewhat nourishing.

“So how's the chicken?”

Beth was startled and looked up at the man next to her. He was a head taller, after all.

“Uhm, it's okay,” she said. “I don't usually eat chicken, but it seems... capably done.”

“Capably done?” he said with a broad grin that revealed white teeth. “That's not exactly great praise.”

Beth smiled. “Well, it's not really a great meal.”

“Yeah, the steak ain't much, either. But at least it'll keep me from turning cannibal during the flight.”

Beth was startled again by the comment, but was afraid to respond in case whatever she said might be considered racist!

“Big guy like me needs a lot more food than a little bitty girl like you,” he said.

“I guess so,” she said.

“You seem to be in pretty good shape, though,” he said.

Beth gulped and gave him a tight lipped smile. She'd heard Black men were all crazed sex maniacs who lusted after white women! And they were all supposed to have enormous penises too! She recalled him looking at her chest at the start of the flight, and drew her shawl in a bit in hopes of discretely covering herself.

Her breasts were, much to her dismay, her most noticeable feature. They had been for some years. It was frustrating and sometimes embarrassing. It wasn't like they were all that big, for heaven’s sakes, though admittedly pretty good sized for a girl who wasn't fat! She was a slender girl, which made them seem larger than they would otherwise.

Certainly boys had been fascinated with them since they'd appeared on her chest, and every date required she push the boy's hands off her breasts, sometimes repeatedly. It was quite exasperating!

“You go to the gym?” he asked.

“Uh, well, no,” she said. “I work at a feed and supply store and I'm always carrying and moving stuff around.”

“What's a feed and supply store?” he asked.

“Uhm, well, like it sounds,” she said.

“Like a grocery store?”

“Well, dry goods, and food for animals, for livestock, you know.”

He stared at her. “Where you from, baby?”

She flushed. “Nebraska.”

“Oh really?” he said.

He held out an enormous black hand.

“I'm Jefferson Washington,” he said. “You can call me Jeff.”

Well, of course there was nothing to be done but take it or be rude, and Beth's manners had been drummed into her since she could speak. She took his hand, seeing her small white hand completely enveloped in his.

“My name is Bethany Rawlings,” she replied.

“Never met nobody from Nebraska before,” he said, squeezing her hand.

Beth gulped, feeling her anxiety rising with his eyes on her and his hand holding hers for too long. But then he released her hand and she pulled it back in relief.

“I'm from Detroit,” he said.

She wondered if he was in a gang!

“Are you uhm, going to Paris as a tourist?” she asked.

“Naw, on business. People like me don't go sitting around on yachts on the Riviera, you know.”

She laughed lightly. “Well, I don't think I will be either.”

“You should be,” he said with a grin. “I bet you'd look real nice in an itty bitty little thong bikini.”

Beth felt her face heat but forced herself to laugh lightly.

“Of course, a lot of them pretty girls don't even wear tops down there,” he said. “You think you could prance around topless like that, you being from Nebraska?”

“Certainly not!” she gulped, blushing anew. “I mean, I'm not saying their culture is wrong or anything, but that's not how things are in Nebraska.”

He laughed. “No, I bet it ain't.”

“I'm going to meet a French friend of mine,” she felt the urge to volunteer. “She was an exchange student. She thought we were awfully conservative.”

Quaint, actually, she thought.

“I bet she didn't try to sunbathe topless,” he said.

“Well, no, but she did say they did that at the beaches in France, though not all the time.”

“Maybe you can see if she can loosen you up then, Bethany. Try out their beaches.”

Beth felt her mind squirming at the direction of the conversation, not wanting this huge Black man thinking about her in a bikini or worse!