She had brought him another crossword puzzle. It seemed like she did this at distinct intervals, but time was hard to measure when the light rose and fell outside the plane’s windows every few moments.
They were passing through a dark time now, so Honey dialed up his tiny airplane light to better see the puzzle. He had gotten very good at these things…since…since he had started doing them. This little masterpiece was almost completed. Penciled across the board were names of dog breeds, forests, constellations, atoms….
What was distinctly absent was the mention of anything having to do with humans.
He was at the last question. It was written in the second person, the only one to be phrased this way:
32. Why are you here?
This one was easy. It was in every one of the puzzles.
Honey used a different writing utensil because the question was different. He inked in the answer, then reached above him and chimed for The Stewardess.
Since Honey was the only one on the plane, The Stewardess was able to come to him quickly. She gracefully sashayed over to him, then inquired with a smile,
“You finish already, honey?”
The Stewardess tilted her head to the side.
“You’re so smart, honey.”
“Why, thank you very much, that’s sweet.”
“Now, what can I get for you? A soda? Some peanuts? A blowjob?”
Honey smiled warmly.
“A blowjob would be great.”
Sometimes Honey wished he could sleep more. That’s why he had requested the blowjob—it often made him slumber afterwards.
He figured that alcohol would do the trick also, but he wasn’t allowed to drink on the plane anymore. He had for a while…since he was old enough, anyway. But something bad had happened. Something…he just remembered hitting things, hitting the walls of the plane, hitting the ceilings. That didn’t achieve anything, and when he summoned The Stewardess to apologize, she had not come. She hadn’t been there for a while, and it was just him on the plane. That was punishment enough. When she had sashayed back, informing him that alcohol was now banned from the flight, he almost broke down with gratitude at her presence.
Honey snuggled back into his seat. He liked his seat. It was in the first-class section and was long and broad, which he guessed meant he was important. He supposed that since everything was relative and he didn’t know anyone but The Stewardess, his importance was difficult to prove. He was more important than The Stewardess, anyway; she was the one who served him. But she was the one who lit his life, the one who pinned him down, the one that made time matter.
He wondered if she felt the same way about him. He had wondered this before…many times, he had wondered. He wanted to ask her, or at least engage her on a more personal level.
But he was afraid of rejection. His options were few, and he didn’t want to frig this up, his only personal relationship.
He did enjoy the blowjobs. He supposed that it was part of her job, though, as opposed to a favor. But perhaps she was going the extra mile for him, the one she called Honey. Maybe he would ask her sometime soon.
The cavernous interior of the plane stretched backwards into the darkness.
The Stewardess leaned up from Honey’s lap, patting her lips with a tissue from her breast pocket. Honey’s body ticked slowly back in his seat as his muscles unfolded with calm.
He always enjoyed the act of the blowjob more than the orgasm. The orgasm was nice, but it meant that it was over, and The Stewardess would soon be gone.
He squirmed upwards in his seat as The Stewardess rose, licking his lips and clearing his throat.
“How was that for you, honey?”
“Perfect as always.”
“That’s good to hear. Do you need anything else while I’m here?”
“Well…haha…I just had a question to ask you…um, these blowjobs…which I really enjoy…are they just part of your job, or…or do you give them to me because of something else?”
The Stewardess smiled the way she smiled.
“It’s the policy of DeaBird airlines to make sure ALL our passengers are taken care of, and get just what they need.”
Honey’s face fell, then he picked it up and smiled. He didn’t want to mess up what little he had. The Stewardess saw, though. She smiled and chucked him lightly under the chin.
“Don’t worry, honey. You’ll always be my favorite.”
Honey felt something different in his heart. He grinned up at The Stewardess bashfully.
The Stewardess smiled and sashayed away, closing the curtain to the empty aisle behind her.
Honey only had three different types of dreams, and enjoyed only one of them.
The first type confused him. He was in a place that was frighteningly foreign, with ceilings so high he felt like he would be sucked upward until there was no air left.
There were forms around him wrapped in green and gold, far too many of them, clustering in front of him and asking him things he didn’t know and then rushing away. Confusion made his skull dissolve and parts of his mind whisper off to the high places.
The second type of dream was of the inside of the plane. These dreams were identical to his waking life and made him confused. He usually woke up from them to the same seatback in front of him. In a way, they were just a continuation of him being awake. These were his most common dream, and happened nearly every time he drifted off.
The third type happened rarely, but they were a joy. They were of the Stewardess. Sometimes she was giving him blowjobs, but she was nude, and Honey stroked her silk hair and the soft, drifting curves of her back and kissed the back of her head.
She was always naked in these dreams, but they were only occasionally sexual. Sometimes she would be purring sweet nothings into his chest as he wrapped her up in his arms. Sometimes she would just be seated beside him, legs crossed at the knee, doing a puzzle, just another passenger.
It was from one of these dreams that he awoke. It was dark outside for the moment, so he dialed on the light. The Fasten Seatbelt indicator was on; he had never remembered it being off.
He rang for the Stewardess. She came towards him, sashaying the way she sashayed, and leaned pleasantly close as she inquired what he wanted.
“I would love a blowjob…but…” Honey faltered.
“What is it, honey? At DeaBird airlines, we strive to give our passengers the flying experience they deserve.”
“…could you undress beforehand?”
The Stewardess leaned away. She was smiling, but there was something in her eyes he hadn’t seen since he had beaten the plane while drunk.
“I’m afraid that airline policy requires the staff to keep up to a code of dress at all times. Now, would you still like that blowjob?”
Honey nodded while averting his eyes. He put his seat into the reclined position as The Stewardess efficiently unzipped him.
The light was different when Honey awoke. It wasn’t dark or light, but a dark maroon, like the blood that had oozed out of his finger once when he had cut himself on the crossword.
He attempted to see what was going on outside, but, being seated above the wing, he could only see straight outwards.
The light made him anxious, an emotion he had only before felt in the Stewardess’ presence. To calm himself, he slipped the crossword out from the seatback in front of him. The maroon light from the window dyed the paper in his lap. He was on the last question, so he placed the pencil on his knee and uncapped his pen. It was the easy one—
32. Why are you here?
It struck him for the first time that he didn’t know how he knew the answer. He leaned into the puzzle and carefully lettered:
The Red Button.
He heard a rumbling from outside the plane, and the maroon light clotted to a darker color. He stretched upwards and tapped The Stewardess’ button to see if she knew anything about the change in flying conditions.
He waited for several moments, and she didn’t come. He reached up to press the button again, and only then noticed that the Fasten Seatbelt indicator was off.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and rose, his back cracking horribly. His legs were weak, and could barely propel him up the blank aisle to the curtain that sequestered The Stewardess’ part of the plane.
He opened the curtain. The Stewardess had disappeared, and he knew in a moment that she would never be back. He was struck dumb, and it was only a passing observation that there was no door to where the cockpit should be, only a blank, white wall.
There was another red in the Stewardess’ part of the plane, a bright red blinking: the button. He realized that it was emitting a low chime, something he’d never heard in the plane before.
He approached the button, which was positioned on a small metal desk in the middle of the room, the only button. He pressed it firmly.
He heard something opening on the bottom the plane, then the floor jerked upwards, as though something had been dropped from below.
Not knowing anything else to do, he slowly walked back to his seat and sat.