Prompt Images
She looked out the plane window and sighed. She could barely see anything other than the wing and some clouds. Sitting in the stupid middle seat, Natasha had to crane all the way forward to look over her stupid brother who got to sit in the stupid window seat so he could lean his stupid head against the stupid wall and get some stupid sleep. At 5 years old, Damon was the baby of the family, and Mom had warned that if he was too cranky when they got to Orlando, they wouldn’t go to Universal that day. He was always inches away from ruining it for everyone.
She turned to her other side. “Michael, can I sit in the aisle for a little bit, please?” she asked—with manners, mind you—tired of being trapped on both sides.
“But you’re smaller,” he said, “and I need to stretch my legs.” Michael, age 11, topped out at mayyyybe 4-foot-6 with shoes on. His legs didn’t even touch the floor.
She sighed again, this time crossing her arms and saying, “not fair” aloud, as if anybody cared.
Middle child, middle seat. Why was she always the sucker?
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so Natasha unfastened her seatbelt, even though the icon above her was lit up, indicating that what she was doing was highly illegal, dangerous, and would probably result in the entire plane crashing and everyone dying. But she didn’t care. She was trapped between her two selfish, idiot brothers AGAIN, and she wasn’t going to sit here the whole time, oppressed and miserable, while they got to do whatever they wanted. This was about freedom.
She stood up in that little teeny space between her seat and the one in front of her. The person in front of her had reclined their seat, so she faced backwards and bent her skinny body at the waist, resting her hands on her own headrest. It was pretty uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the point.
“What the heck are you doing, Tash?” Michael asked his sister, incredulous. Standing? While the “fasten seatbelts” sign is still on? Was she trying to get them thrown off the plane?
“I’m stretching MY legs,” she said, throwing his reasoning back in his face.
“You can’t do that,” Michael contested, shaking his head.
“Oh yeah?”
“Tash, you have to sit down. See?” He pointed to the illuminated icon as the morally righteous arbiter of all things on this plane. If she wouldn’t abide by this very clear instruction, what next? Would she start SMOKING?
“This is a protest,” she said.
Michael wasn’t having it. Nope. Not today. Not when they would land in Orlando in just two more hours. Not when their parents had warned them 50 times that the whole entire vacation hinged on the kids behaving themselves.
The stakes were high. Like, EXTREMELY high.
Universal. Harry Potter World. Disney. Maybe even a water park if they kept their snotty noses clean. How could she risk it all at a time like this? Was she mad?
Michael put down his iPad. It was time to get serious. “Tash, if Mom and Dad see you, you’re going to ruin this for us.”
“You have to stand for something in this world, Michael,” she said. “And I stand for not sitting in the middle seat this whole flight while you and Damon get exactly what you want.”
Michael, ever the clever big bro, thought he might have a solution. “Why don’t you switch seats with Damon, then?”
“He’s asleep!”
“So, wake him up!”
“Why won’t you just switch with me, Mike?”
“Because I’m older!”
“And I’m older than Damon, so how did he get the window?”
“I don’t know, Tash. Why don’t you wake him up and ask him?” Michael said.
“Why won’t you just be the mature one and switch with me?” Tasha asked, appealing to Michael’s status as the eldest and wisest of the kids.
Just then, the plane started to shake a bit. Tasha held onto the seatback and remained standing. The intercom beeped and the captain’s voice filled the cabin.
“Folks, it looks like we’re entering a little bit of turbulence, so at this time, I’m going to remind you to keep your seatbelt fastened. Should be out of this chop in just a few minutes.”
Michael’s eyes widened. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. Now the CAPTAIN was getting involved? The authority literally does not get any higher than that on this plane. He couldn’t believe his sister was willing to ruin this trip, not just for their family, but for every passenger on this plane.
“Tash,” he pleaded. “You’re being INSANE.”
Tasha started tap dancing in her tiny crevasse, just to make Michael even more nervous. She knew she had him on the ropes.
“You know what will make me stop, don’t you?”
Michael put his face in his hands. He could not believe what was happening right now.
“FINE,” he said, exasperated. “After the turbulence, we can switch seats.”
But Tasha knew better. She knew that as soon as that seatbelt sign was no longer illuminated, she’d lose all leverage. This was not her first negotiation.
“Nope. NOW,” she said.
Michael said nothing. He stared daggers at his younger sister, furious at her for forcing this trade, furious at himself for being outsmarted. He unbuckled his seatbelt, looked on all sides for flight attendants (would they yell at him or save him, he had no idea), and traded seats with his sister, their skinny bodies navigating the tiny space between seats.
Natasha climbed into the aisle seat, buckled her seatbelt, wiggled her butt and put both fists in the air in celebration.
But Michael was no sucker. And if he was going to break the law and unbuckle his seatbelt against direct orders, he was going all-in.
“Damon,” he said, nudging his brother.
Damon’s eyes opened, confused. “Are we there yet?”
“No, but you have to move to the middle seat,” Michael said.
“Why?” asked Damon.
“Because I’m the big brother and I say so.”
“That’s not fair!” Damon said.
“And if you don’t move, I’ll tell Mom and Dad, and we won’t be able to go to Universal today, and it’ll be all your fault.”
Damon looked defeated, like the time he dropped his stuffed lion in the mud on the way to show-and-tell. He slid over to the middle seat, slamming down the armrest.
Michael sat down and fastened his seatbelt, happy enough with this outcome. He looked out the plane window and sighed.
RELATED
