Friday, January 5, 2007
Flight into Danger
As I sit here on the terrace of my pied a terre in Toronto basking in the 13 C sunshine, I can't help but feel a shiver of supernatural dread. Not since Gina Lolobrigida brought her collection of costume jewelery to the Home Shopping Network has there been such a sustained period of warmth in this chilly land. I remember when I was a boy growing up in northern Quebec, snow drifts so high that kids were constantly getting lost in them. Every spring when the snow melted there would always be at least two or three children who had gone missing that winter found thawing by the side of the road. We called them kidsicles. This ,combined with all the dog poo poking it's way out of the snow, made for quite an odeur in la belle province. So in honour of our warming world I would like to present you with a story set in the tropics. It's actually the missing section of my autobiography 'Buddy Babylon' but it was not included in the book because my editor felt that the revelations contained therein would have shaken the geopolitcal moorings of the world. Now enough time has passed and I feel the world can handle what I have to say. I will release it chapter by chapter like an old time stripper. So here goes. Chapter One. This is me removing my long gloves.
Flight Into Danger
"Could you please bring your seat back up," said the gaily accented French-Canadian airline steward on Air Canada Flight 765 to Vancouver, the first stop on my journey to the Philippines.
"I'm sorry, I'm very nervous," I said in French. "This is my first time on a plane."
"Don't worry, I'll be here to hold your hand if things get rough," he said, squeezing my crotch. I felt safer already.
"My name is Gaetan Dugas. What's yours?"
"It's Cole. Buddy Cole."
"Are you from Quebec?"
"Yes I am."
"I'm from Quebec City, the capital of all Quebec," he said in a high tone.
"Well, I'm from St. Hubert sur la Lac, the capital of all Pork."
"Gotta go, I got a show to do," he said switching back to English. Then he went to the front of the cabin and started gesticulating with his hands while someone off-screen did a narration on a microphone. It was something to do with belts, masks dropping from the ceiling, and floatation devices. It seemed to be about S&M which totally turned me off so I ignored the demonstration. I would rather die than put on a leather mask.
All of a sudden the plane began to move. My heart leapt to my throat. Soon we were hurtling down the runway like a supermodel sprinting towards a multi-million dollar endorsement deal. The plane kissed the air and the sky lifted us up into her bosom. Delicious.
After we were airborne for a while, Gaetan returned. "Coffee, tea or me?" he said and laughed. I just looked at him. "Perhaps a cocktail?" he said stressing the word "cock".
"I'll have a double vodka mar ... tini," I said, holding my fingers together close to his crotch in the universal symbol of a tiny dick. "Straight up and very dry." He didn't acknowledge my slight, and like a true professional, walked away with an air of authority. I settled in with a good book, "All About Rhoda" by Peggy Hertz from Scholastic Press. It's my favorite book. I have probably read this book a hundred times. It's gotten me through so many dark days. I guess it's Rhoda's spirit, or maybe it's just Peggy's prose. Whatever. I cling to it like a drowning man clings to a dolphin.
I felt something stir in my pocket. It was Cornygirl wanting to look out the window. She had never been on a plane before. Gaetan returned with the martini and noticed the turmoil in my pocket.
"Looks like you got ants in your pants," he said. My patience with Gaetan was close to zero.
"Mind your own beeswax." I snapped. He walked off looking hurt.
I took Cornygirl out of my pocket and held her up to the window. I could tell she was thrilled by the vista. I don't know what I would do without her. She was my best friend. Well, of course, there was Marco, but they didn't like each other, which made my life unbearable. I thought about Marco and I, both of us tucked inside our silvery birds, flying in the sky towards modelling assignations in radically different corners of the world. I missed him, and Kate and even my family whom I hadn't thought about for a long time. I wondered what was going on back at the farm. After all I'd seen, I wondered if I could ever go home again.
The martini hit me with double force because of the altitude and the quaalude Carma Norma had given me and I fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed that I was going down a tropical river on a raft. I was wearing nothing but a pair of Juicy Mango Jeans and camouflage face paint. The shore was lined with paparazzi snapping pictures of me and shouting "Fabulous!" and "Give us a smile, Buddy!" I sensed that I was journeying towards something evil, or worse. The raft began to move faster and faster and soon we were engulfed in rapids. The paparrazzi had disappeared and I realized that we were going over a waterfall. Then, just as the raft sailed over the lip of the falls and shot out into the abyss, I woke up in a sweat. Well, a glow.
The cabin was dark and everybody seemed to be asleep. I needed to relieve myself, so I hopped over my seatmates legs, and made my way down the aisle. I found the washroom and opened the door only to discover Gaetan bent over the sink, being ushered into the mile high club by what appeared to be the pilot. Gaetan saw me in the mirror and beckoned me in. I shook my head no and closed the door quietly. I wanted to know who was flying the plane. I put my ear to the cockpit door. I could hear nothing, so I gingerly opened it. The pilot's seat was empty and the co-pilot was asleep in his chair with an opened bag of chips on his lap.
Who was driving this thing, I thought. I debated over whether to wake the guy, not wanting to intrude, but also not wanting to die. I figured the plane had to be on auto-pilot or something. That's how most people drift through their lives. Why not planes? I decided to shelve my fears and return to my seat but just as I was turning to go, I saw a sight more horrifying than the ballet feet in Natas's apartment. A big plane was coming directly for us!
Without thinking, I hopped into the pilot's seat and began pressing buttons. The first button I pressed turned on the stereo and the joyous sounds of "You're the One That I Want" filled the cabin. But even the combination of John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John wasn't enough to stop the oncoming plane. It continued on it's deadly course towards us. The second button misted my face with Evian water. Leave it to a gay pilot. The plane was almost upon us. It obviously wasn't about buttons. I suddenly espied what looked like a steering wheel. I grabbed it and pushed it forward. Our plane went into a steep dive, and the other plane narrowly flew over us, so close I could actually see the face of the person at the wheel. It was Marco Nagy. He looked terrified. I realized he was in the exact same situation as I. He recognized me and blew me a kiss, and away we went, two silver birds almost crashing in the night.
I had saved everyone's lives. But now we were plunging to the ground. I looked over at the co-pilot for help but he was still dead to the world. It was up to me. I gradually eased the wheel back up and pulled us out of our dive. When I had the plane steady, I switched the auto-pilot back on and returned to my seat. I decided not to wake the co-pilot. He was obviously useless. I passed Gaetan coming out of the washroom. He looked like the cat who'd eaten the canary.
"That was the best orgasm I ever had. It felt like we were going to crash."
"Not this time," I replied mysteriously.
The captain stumbled out. He saw me and made a pathetic attempt to straighten up.
"Well, Steward Dugas, that toilet seems to be working pretty well now."
I thought about telling them what had happened, but then I thought, fuck it. I didn’t need the paperwork. Besides, my bladder was about to burst. I pushed my way past them and then had the most satisfying piss of my life.
end of chapter one
Be sure to tune in next week for chapter two 'Pushing The Manila Envelope'. If this has whetted your appetite for my tales please feel free to hop on over to E-Bay or Amazon or Alibis or any of the other fine internet chains to purchase your own copy of 'Buddy Babylon' from Bantam Doubleday Dell.