You won't have time to feel the pain
My tragedy started on an airplane.
it was January 28, 1959, and I was on an all first-class, Boeing 707 flight from Shreveport to Helena, when the stewardess, a tall, tanned blonde with blood-red lips and candy blue eyes, burst out of the cockpit and screamed that the Captain was suicidal and going to crash the plane!
Fur hat woman sitting next to me passed out. Everyone else screamed and threw their tea cups and plates and silverware.
Then the plane dipped down and to the left.
Hats, purses, gold necklaces and cloth napkins flew past me overhead and bounced off the bulkhead wall. Fur hat woman woke up for a moment and asked me if I was an angel? I patted her hand and unbuckled my belt.
“Not me. But I can only hope one’s coming.”
I sat on the floor and slid down to the cockpit door. We leveled out for a moment and I was able to get into the cockpit. The Captain was huddled in the corner, weeping. He was a short, fat, ugly man with a kind face.
“Captain? My name is F. Jason Schmidt. I’m a psychiatrist.”
“It won’t hurt. Your body will be crushed instantly. You won’t have time to feel the pain…”
He sobbed loudly as I knelt by him. “It won’t hurt me. I don’t have family. But you have to think about your passengers. They have families, friends, loved ones.”
“I had a loved one. She left me.”
“What was her name?” I glanced out the window. The ground was rushing up on us, a twisted rope of mountains.
“Evangeline.”
“Why did she leave you?”
“She said she could do better.”
“Maybe she could, but the question you have to ask yourself is, do you want to let her?”
He thought about it for a moment. I could see the outline of buildings and homes and driveways and swimming pools.
“I can save us, but you have to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“Help me get revenge on her?”
“Of course! Now hurry!”
The short fat ugly Captain jumped up and pulled us out of the dive. The passengers cheered as we landed at the airport in Denver. And we all stood in silent respect as the paramedics offloaded the stewardess' body. She’d broken her neck in 5 places. Her head rolled around the gurney like a water balloon. We talked about her in the cab ride to the Brown Palace hotel.
“What was her name, Captain?”
“Celeste.”
“Shame what happened.”
“Is it really, though?” He couldn’t help giggling.
“Why would you say that?”
“She was good friends with Evangeline. She hated me, always told Ev she could do better, should do better.”
“Sounds like your revenge has already started. How does it feel?”
“Is it supposed to feel good? It feels really good…”
The Captain wanted to show his appreciation, so he took me to the Buckhorn Exchange for a thank you steak and baked potato. Our dining room was all copper and ivory.
We also had drinks, Rum and Coca Cola for me and Tom Collins for him. He was a surprisingly fast drunk, considering his size, and it made him talkative. Which, I have to admit, interested me, because of the suicidal ideation and the intense joy he experienced at the death of the stewardess.
“She should’ve been in her seat. Safety first, doctor, that’s the only rule.”
“You were having a crisis. She tried to warn the passengers.”
“She also warned Ev against me!” he slammed his drink down on the table and spilled it all over the white tablecloth. The waitress rushed over and the Captain snapped his fingers. “One more, honey!”
He watched her walk away and he looked like a fat hungry dog.
“She hated me. Sometimes it feels like everyone hates me.”
“It was good with Evangeline at first, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, yes, but almost dying brought everything into focus. Things she said that I thought were sweet? Condescending and arrogant. Things she did that told me she loved me? Now I know that she did them out of obligation.”
The waitress brought him another drink and cleared our plates.
“I thought our love was real. It was just a lie, a worthless lie.”
“Perhaps the best revenge is moving on with your life.”
“That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? All the books and all the bullshit is about letting the pain go, accepting the truth, blah blah blah, nothing lasts forever…” He lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings over his head. “I’m not buying it. She swore to me that we would love each other forever, right up to the day she walked out the door!”
The waitress brought the check and I made a move for my wallet, but the Captain said no.
“I got this. let me get this.”
“It’s not necessary. Really.”
“I think it is. I need your help with one more thing.”
“What is it?”
“When Evangeline left me she went to New York to be a star.”
“Nothing wrong with chasing your dreams.”
He slapped the table with the palm of his hand and pointed his tiny rat finger at me. “The monster who broke my heart caught her dream! She was cast in the touring company of a Broadway Musical. Bells Are Ringing.”
“I hear it’s very good.”
“I’m sure it’s dog shit. I hate musicals. But it’s here in Denver, tonight. She’s here, right now, and you promised to help me get even.”
“I’m starting to think your little episode on the plane was just a trick to land in Denver.”
“You can think whatever you want. Will you help me?”
“That depends. Is your plan to go heckle her? Throw tomatoes?”
He opened his coat and showed me the 6-shooter in the holster under his right arm…
