Pilot Error

On a plane, there’s a lot that could go wrong. Did you know that it only takes seven mistakes in a row to make a plane crash? Well, neither did I. At least before I found out that I would have to move from my home in Bathsheba, Barbados to my new home in San Diego, California. Which happens to be 13 hours and 58 minutes away.

So now I’m here sitting in a plane waiting, worrying, and panicking. I watch the flight attendant go over the safety video that I’ve watched almost a hundred times before I even got to the airport. “Isn’t this fun Camilo?” I turn to the person next to me. Mrs. Yasiel, the woman who would be taking me to my new family in America.

“I don’t know if I would say that.” I look around anxiously and she holds my hand. “I mean I’m going to a new country to live with people I’ve never met before,” I pause and let the worst-case scenario play through my head. “Oh my god, they could be serial killers or Satanists. I think I’m going to faint.” I put the back of my hand over my eyes.

“Camilo I’ve met them. I think you’ll like them.” She smiles at me and I can tell that she’s hiding something which just makes me even more stressed. “They’ve been looking to adopt a kid for a long time, and when I told them about you they decided that they wanted you.”

“They,” I pause and mull it over, “they want me?” I look at my hands, the burns are still there and they don’t look like they’ll be leaving anytime soon. I can feel panic surging through my body. My chest starts to tighten and I feel my breathing hitch before stopping. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful or like a baby, so I force myself to calm down.

When I’m calm I feel a wave of exhaustion wash over me. I sigh and slowly lean back into my chair. I’m happy that the sleeping pills I took before getting on the plane are finally taking effect. Almost immediately after this thought, I pass out.

I wake up around the tenth hour of being on the airplane, my head foggy from just waking up. I slowly sit up and look over at Mrs. Yasiel who is currently immersed in the book she had in her small red purse thing. After a moment of disoriented thinking, I decided to follow her example and pull my own book out of my carry on. I start reading and find myself stuck in the story for the rest of the plane ride. Damn it. I have to pee, but Mrs. Yasiel is blocking my direction. I fight back a groan. The first thing I do in America won’t be looking for Tom Brady or Leonardo Dicaprio. It’s gonna be looking for a fucking bathroom because I can feel my insides slowly beginning to drown in god damn pee.

Getting off the plane after almost 14 hours had to the best thing about America. “Camilo do you have everything?” I look at Mrs. Yasiel and slowly nod. I feel my heart pounding in my chest and against my ribs again. She seems to see my distress and wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me to her side. “Camilo, I know how your feeling my parents adopted me from Kazakhstan and they lived in Scotland! I had to learn a whole new language and way of life, but that’s how I met my husband, Carter Yasiel.” She sends me a soft smile and I just stare at her. Does this lady think that learning her tragic backstory is gonna ME feel better! Because it doesn’t. Moreover, I JUST NEED TO FUCKING PEE LADY, AND THERE’S NO GOD DAMN TOILETS THIS SIDE OF SECURITY!!! She seems to realize that it didn’t make me feel any better and slowly, her smile drops. “Well… after customs, you’ll meet them and figure out what I mean.”

I sigh and think of the average American family. I’ve read stories where it was a mom, a dad, a few kids, and some pets. A mom is extremely caring and worrisome for everyone in the family, she is the one who cooks and cleans. A dad is a strong man who you’re supposed to rely on and toss around a ball with, and I think siblings are supposed to annoy the shit outta you, but they still protect you... I think. Pets are for comfort and to help you relax after a long day. I feel a small smile creeping its way across my lips and I can’t help but be slightly excited for this new life with what I can only assume will be my new amazing parents. What if my mom is that Beyoncé lady? Ew... does that mean she’s gonna shake her butt everywhere? What if my dad is that Tom Brady guy! That would be so amazing.

By now, I can feel my very being slowly filling up and I felt like if I even coughed, or exhaled, I would pee everywhere. So Exiting the large gate was the best thing that ever happened to me. I look around excitedly, looking for all the tall towers called skyscrapers, for all the rich people with butlers and body guards, for all the kids saying things like “lit” and “roasted” but all I see is people milling about, the occasional business man sprinting across my field of vision to catch what I can only assume is a connecting flight. I look over to Mrs. Yasiel.

“Are those the bathrooms? I ask. She nods and I almost cry with happiness as I sprint to the bathroom.

As I wash my hands, I tried to ignore the billion other people in there with me. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked thin and tired. No, I look like shit. I sigh. Will they even want me? I wonder. I inhale then exhale, feeling oddly light and free after the last few hours of torment. Well, I’m in America now. I decide, I’ll find somewhere to live. Everyone is rich here, maybe it’ll be like a book. I can be a servant in exchange for stay in a rich person’s house. Maybe someone like those Kardashian people or whatever. I exit the bathroom, relocating Mrs. Yasiel. She nods at me with a kind smile and hustles me forward. I look around and spot many people who could possibly be my new family. A tall man with a suit who was accompanied by a lady in a heavy stripped dress that looked like she had swallowed a planet. I think she is pregnant.

“Is that them?” I inquire quietly as I slightly tilt my head in the couple’s direction. Mrs. Yasiel shakes her head and points to a woman with short brown hair. She’s alone and I can’t help but feel disappointed. That’s it....? No Beyoncé or..... or Tom Brady?

“Anika!” I jump a bit surprised by the volume of her voice. The woman looks up and a look of jubilation spreads across her face as she quickly rushes over, looking thrilled. The way my parents did when they gave me away.

“Hello Mrs. Yasiel how was your flight.

“It was very nice!” Mrs. Yasiel replies, stepping aside to reveal my guilty ass hiding behind her.

“Oh! You must be Camilo!” She exclaims. Her tone makes me feel panicked and I couldn’t decide whether I should run or just stare her down. I feel the panic rush through my body, this is it she’s going to send me back to Barbados. It’s obvious that I’m not what she wanted. “We’ve been waiting forever!” Wait does that mean she likes me. A second thought came to mind right after the first. “We”? Fuck, she’s a psycho isn’t she. But… Does she want to keep me? “Oh, Nsia is in the bathroom. So it’s just me.” Nsia… I like that name. It has a nice ring to it. Kinda reminds me of a fancy noodle. That’s when I hear heels clicking behind me.

I turn and see a woman I could imagine taking over the world with ease and the suit she wore helped push the idea that she was powerful into anyone that would doubt her. She smiles at me.

“Are you Camilo?” I nod and try to stay calm. “I’m Nsia, I assume you’ve already met my wife Anika?” I freeze at that. Married? so she’s not psycho. SHES GAY!? These two women were married!? That was illegal, at least it had been in Barbados. Nonetheless, it had still been pounded into me from my parents and pastors alike that it was wrong to be homosexual. It was punishable by life in prison, but if these two could be so open it must be legal here. Come to think of it, I had seen one same-sex couple, but they had been from Ireland. Oh my god. I think. I’m gonna get freaking arrested before I even leave the airport. What am I gonna do!?