patchwork cloud.
Mr. Dardennes began speaking while walking towards the back of the plane. "Hello everyone, and thank you for coming." He stopped at the last chair, turning to look at us. "We are very excited about the testing that will be conducted over the next three days. We will be arriving at our destination in no time at all. Mr. Nischa will be with you in just a moment with refreshments. I will answer all of your questions when we touch down, and the test will begin soon after landing." He turned and walked into a room at the back of the plane, closing the door behind him.
I leaned over and whispered in Tony's ear, "Was that the bathroom he just went into?" I was giggling. It struck me as funny that someone would do a welcome speech and then make a grand exit into a toilet.
Tony whispered back, "No, I think it's an office. The bathroom's up front." He twisted around and pointed to a door we walked by when we came in.
"Ahhhh." I'm so friggin' sophisticated sometimes I can't stand myself.
Spike raised his eyebrows at me a couple times. "Nice, eh?" He was sitting across from Tony and diagonal from me.
I smiled back. "Yeah, not bad." Especially since I was going to look at Spike for the entire trip.
Chase was running his hands back and forth on the leather armrests, of course not saying anything.
"I could get used to this," said Finn, grinning from across the aisle.
Becky was sitting next to him, smiling her head off; nothing unusual there.
Jared was sitting across the aisle from me, an arm's length away, next to Chase. He looked thoughtful. He'd been really quiet ever since we left the warehouse – and Samantha. He wasn't the most talkative guy anyway, but this was too much. When Jared was acting weird, it made everything else feel a little off. Maybe in another time and another place, he could have been a pretty influential leader. He had some sort of extra special charisma – like Martin Luther King or Bugs Bunny or something.
My thoughts were interrupted by the guy we now knew as Mr. Nischa, the bodyguard/secretary/flight attendant. He was walking down the center aisle, carrying a tray of amber-colored drinks – one for each of us, plus one extra. After we each took one of the tiny shot glasses – which were heavy crystal and not plastic – he took the last one and stood in front of us, holding it up and clearing his throat. He began speaking in a scratchy voice, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Mr. Nischa. Congratulations on being selected for this very important study. In my country, we celebrate honors with a toast and a special drink. It is mildly alcoholic, but don't worry, it will not affect you in that way. It is traditional to say 'Skal' and then drink it in one, quick swallow." He raised his glass at us, waiting for us to do the same.
I looked around and saw everyone complying, so I did the same, hesitantly. Why was this guy all of a sudden being so friendly? Why wasn't Mr. Dardennes doing the toast with us? Alarm bells were ringing faintly in the back of my mind. Tony looked sideways at me from the neighboring seat, probably picking up my nervous vibe. He elbowed me gently, probably telling me to settle down and drink up.
Mr. Nischa gestured his drink towards us. "Skal!" he said, and then quickly put the shot glass to his lips and threw it back, drinking the amber liquid in one gulp.
Everyone else around me was responding in kind. I lifted my glass and said a weak 'Skal' along with the rest of them; they were decidedly more enthusiastic than I was about the whole thing. In my peripheral vision I saw glasses being tipped back and then set back down on tables. My hand was frozen in place, the glass not quite touching my lips yet.
Tony's hand whacked me on the arm. "Ouch, Tone, watch it!" I turned to give him my bitchy look, but what I saw shocked me
Mr. Dardennes began speaking while walking towards the back of the plane. "Hello everyone, and thank you for coming." He stopped at the last chair, turning to look at us. "We are very excited about the testing that will be conducted over the next three days. We will be arriving at our destination in no time at all. Mr. Nischa will be with you in just a moment with refreshments. I will answer all of your questions when we touch down, and the test will begin soon after landing." He turned and walked into a room at the back of the plane, closing the door behind him.
I leaned over and whispered in Tony's ear, "Was that the bathroom he just went into?" I was giggling. It struck me as funny that someone would do a welcome speech and then make a grand exit into a toilet.
Tony whispered back, "No, I think it's an office. The bathroom's up front." He twisted around and pointed to a door we walked by when we came in.
"Ahhhh." I'm so friggin' sophisticated sometimes I can't stand myself.
Spike raised his eyebrows at me a couple times. "Nice, eh?" He was sitting across from Tony and diagonal from me.
I smiled back. "Yeah, not bad." Especially since I was going to look at Spike for the entire trip.
Chase was running his hands back and forth on the leather armrests, of course not saying anything.
"I could get used to this," said Finn, grinning from across the aisle.
Becky was sitting next to him, smiling her head off; nothing unusual there.
Jared was sitting across the aisle from me, an arm's length away, next to Chase. He looked thoughtful. He'd been really quiet ever since we left the warehouse – and Samantha. He wasn't the most talkative guy anyway, but this was too much. When Jared was acting weird, it made everything else feel a little off. Maybe in another time and another place, he could have been a pretty influential leader. He had some sort of extra special charisma – like Martin Luther King or Bugs Bunny or something.
My thoughts were interrupted by the guy we now knew as Mr. Nischa, the bodyguard/secretary/flight attendant. He was walking down the center aisle, carrying a tray of amber-colored drinks – one for each of us, plus one extra. After we each took one of the tiny shot glasses – which were heavy crystal and not plastic – he took the last one and stood in front of us, holding it up and clearing his throat. He began speaking in a scratchy voice, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Mr. Nischa. Congratulations on being selected for this very important study. In my country, we celebrate honors with a toast and a special drink. It is mildly alcoholic, but don't worry, it will not affect you in that way. It is traditional to say 'Skal' and then drink it in one, quick swallow." He raised his glass at us, waiting for us to do the same.
I looked around and saw everyone complying, so I did the same, hesitantly. Why was this guy all of a sudden being so friendly? Why wasn't Mr. Dardennes doing the toast with us? Alarm bells were ringing faintly in the back of my mind. Tony looked sideways at me from the neighboring seat, probably picking up my nervous vibe. He elbowed me gently, probably telling me to settle down and drink up.
Mr. Nischa gestured his drink towards us. "Skal!" he said, and then quickly put the shot glass to his lips and threw it back, drinking the amber liquid in one gulp.
Everyone else around me was responding in kind. I lifted my glass and said a weak 'Skal' along with the rest of them; they were decidedly more enthusiastic than I was about the whole thing. In my peripheral vision I saw glasses being tipped back and then set back down on tables. My hand was frozen in place, the glass not quite touching my lips yet.
Tony's hand whacked me on the arm. "Ouch, Tone, watch it!" I turned to give him my bitchy look, but what I saw shocked me
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