Wings air Down (manxman)

Never give up

Here is another chapter of the series.  I wanted to dedicate this chapter to another great author, Audrey Snead (AMS1971). He writes amazingly well and is definitely worth discovering.

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December 23, 16:30  (4:30 pm)

“John, I have something to say to you?”

“What?” He is actually relaxed as he sips his wine across from me at the table.

“This is not working out!” I just blurt.

John just stares at me. He is one of the most leveled persons I know. Finally, he just asks.

“What is not working out? Us? You? Me?”

“Everything,” God I have a way with words. “I mean here, Canada. I want to go back to Italy, to Rome where I come from.”

“Are you sure? I mean you always say how you were glad to have left the place. How it always reminded you of the family that kicked you out at 16.”

“Yes, but I have come to terms with it. I have grown up and I think that it is time for me to return home.”

“I see." He sips his wine. "How about if we go there for a vacation or something.”

I just shake my head.

“What about your job here? You have a nice job and based on what I hear about Europe, it does not seem they are doing very well. I assume Italy is probably worst.”

“I thought about it and is something I will have to face once I get there. On a plus I do speak Italian, English and French, there are not too many Italians that can claim that.”

“So you made up your mind it seems.”

“Pretty much.”

“What about us? We have been living together for the last three years. Did you put it in the equation?”

“Yes, but what can I say? I mean I love you but I also feel that I just left because I wanted to run away and I feel incomplete. I need to do this!”

He sips his wine again looking at me, studying me. Then adds.

“Ok, if that is what you want so be it. When are you planning to make the move?”

“I don’t know, I have not figured out the details yet. I have to give a notice to work, get my ticket. Maybe a month or two at most.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, I told you so!” I am getting nervous, “and if you love me as well you should try to understand.”

“I am trying to understand," he answers altered. He takes a deep breath, then adds calmly, "is just that…you never mentioned it. You seemed happy here.”

“You know I am skeptical about happiness, I mean what you define as happy.”

“We had this discussion many times. I know you don’t believe in happiness, but still you never gave me any indications of what you felt. I am just afraid that you are taking a rushed decision.”

“Well, rest assured it is not a rushed decision. I have been mulling it for a while. I just did not say anything since I did not want anybody to interfere. I had to sort things on my own.”

“And now you have and you want to go through with it.”

“Yes.”

“I see. And this is nothing to di with us, our relationship.”

“Nothing!”

“And if there was a way for us to stay together?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that... assume you did not have this urge to go back, would you stay with me.”

“With all my heart. I love you John!”

“And I love you Marco, and I cannot imagine my life without you.”

“What are you saying?” I am actually afraid he may do something stupid.

“If you need to go to Italy, we will go to Italy!”

“What do you mean we?” Even if I am asking, I know exactly what he means.

“I can take a sabbatical year at work. I have had the condo for 5 years now. I can sell it for a profit. So I sell and we go. We can find a job there and if we like it we stay and if we don’t we can come back.”

I thought he was going to do something stupid and his plan seem crazy alright. “You would move with me? Leave everything behind?”

“Except for material possessions, I don’t have anything keeping me here, so yeah, I love you. We may not be married but there is no doubt in my mind that we are a family. My feeling for you are just as strong as if we were married, and if you need to go back, then we go back! One way or another, I will be there for you!”

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I have to admit that even if his job brings him far most of the time, John is always ready to jump for me, ready to be there when I need him. From far or close, he has always been this steady rock on which I could lie on. I wonder what he is doing right now. Is he actually here like I seem to think? I keep on thinking he is coming for me, but how can he? He does not have the means nor would he know how to get here. I want so much to believe and yet everything seems to be pointing otherwise.

I look at my tunnel. I have been digging at about 45 degrees upward from the door. By now I am actually stepping outside the airplane on a platform of sorts I dug in the snow and ice. Which means that I have been digging for about 2 meters. I make a quick calculation taking into account the 45 degrees. That makes at least 1.5 m upward, and I am still not out. Maybe I should have dug at a steeper angle, but then I was afraid that we could not climb out.

I rewrap my makeshift bandage over my hand. The blood has almost soaked it through. At the beginning I was just using my spoon as a small shovel. The rough edge of the metal started scraping my hands raw until they started bleeding and I wrapped them in pieces of cloth. My face is also hurting from the constant pelleting of ice and snow. I am digging above my head and the chunks of ice and whatever else I dig trough seem to find constantly a way to hit me in the face. After hours of constant bombardment my face is stinging and I am sure it is scraped and scratched by now. My muscles are also hurting: they did not have any rest nor food, to that add the beating I received during the panic attack last night. I chew  on a piece of ice as my stomach grumbles, my only nourishment for today. I wonder how long I can resist this way. Maybe the captain was right and this was a bad idea. I should have just sit at my place.

I think of John again. Again I have the feeling that he is somewhere out there and coming for me. He would never give up! I must not give up, for him, for Beatrice, for myself, and for everybody else on this plane.

As I start hitting at the snow again I hear a noise. I stop and listen. It seem something like a propeller, a helicopter or a plane. I wait to hear noises from the cabin behind me. But nobody seems to notice the sound. Maybe I should tell them. No it cannot be. In the front there is a big hole and if there really was a plane or a helicopter out there they would hear it and there would be some sort of commotion. No, all this thinking of John and rescue, it must be my imagination; so I keep on digging a few millimeters further with my survival weapon.

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