I glance around, lost.
I don't understand a damn thing in this whole pile of gauges and dials on the instrument panel. I only recognize the altitude indicator and the airspeed one. I'm relieved to see they're showing the same numbers, steady. That means one thing: the autopilot is doing its job.
I prick up my ears and listen carefully. The engine on the right purrs nice and even. The left one sounds just as steady. But for how long? Probably until the fuel runs out! After that...
So much for my dreams. Marriage in Malaysia? Ha! I should be grateful if I make it down in one piece!
My life is over. I'm a dead man who's still breathing, still moving.
It's clear: I'm just as dead as Jean-Louis lying here on the floor.
"Ah, you poor bastard," I whisper. "You ruined me. You ruined all of us! You had to eat and talk at the same time, didn't you, you door-sized idiot? Say it! Say it already, you motherfucker! Talk! Come on, get up off the floor and tell me one more time that I'm 'totally safe' with you! That's how you bragged! Get up, you miserable drunk, and explain to me how safe flying is!"
I sit down next to Jean-Louis. I'm finished... I'm done...
Hold on!
Hold on a second, Tiberiu! Isn't the autopilot smart enough to land by itself? It's... automatic. It's supposed to be smart, right?
If it knows how to keep the plane in the air, it might know other stuff too. Maybe this has happened before. Maybe other pilots have died mid-flight.
My ass! Those guys had co-pilots. I glare at the Frenchman and whisper, exasperated, "You filthy bastard, wake up! Don't do this to me!"
I know for a fact there's that maneuver with the weird name... Heimlich! Himlesh... what the hell? I forgot the name, but I've seen it on TV. It's worth trying.
I grab Jean-Louis fast and start doing chest compressions. I think that's how you do it. I once watched a documentary with several resuscitation methods, but maybe I didn't pay enough attention. After long minutes of work, nothing happens, and I'm drenched in sweat.
I give up on that and start mouth-to-mouth. Nothing! And on top of that, the Frenchman's mouth stinks. I think I'm giving up.
I press on his chest again with both hands clasped, like I saw in that movie. Then I hear a dry crack and I freeze.
"Goddamn it!"
I feel like crying. Fuck this flying bullshit!
I would cry if I weren't so scared. I'm so scared I don't even know what to do anymore. I grab the poor bastard by the shoulders and shake him, desperate.
"Get up, Mister 'I'm the best pilot with the biggest dick'! Who gives a shit if it hangs to your knees if you're dead? Come back! Please, Jean-Louis, wake up!"
Should I try mouth-to-mouth again? No way. His mouth reeks. And on top of that, he's a man.
God, how much I hate the pilot. I'd beat him till he breaks if he weren't already dead.
"You know what, Jean-Louis? Know that I'm glad your whore ditched you. I'm thrilled, you bastard! Because of you, you're taking us all down with you! Why didn't you leave me to live my quiet life on my beach? Why, why, you cursed prick? Why did you have to show up exactly when I was happiest, devil? Why do I have to die too? Why? I'm young, you motherfucker!"
The tears burst out of nowhere and I don't even bother stopping them. I'm bawling like a woman. Man, what a cruel life... I don't know if these are tears of fear or spite, but the crying cools me down and it helps. I calm down a little.
I look down at the tortured body and the sight of death puts this deep calm in me. Yes. Calm. Quiet. I start to feel like I did when I swallowed Ana's pills.
Exactly like that, but without taking anything. Death's the best pill for depression.
"Very well. If I have to die... I'll die," I whisper calmly and sink into the seat. "Well, even a stupid ending is still an ending. This is how Tiberiu's life ends."
I look at the poor Frenchman with pity. I don't have a candle for him, but maybe I should still say something... a couple of words.
"O Creator," I whisper, "have mercy on Your servant, Jean-Louis, who today is leaving... uh... for that place where there is no sorrow, no sighing. Send him to a place of light, uh... with greenery and... what the motherfucking hell is it again? Forgive me, Lord, but I don't remember anymore. Amen!"
I cross myself over the dead man. I close his eyes one by one and press a little harder so they stay shut.
"Well, don't take it the wrong way, man. I've got nothing against you, Jean-Louis. Rest in peace! Me, I forgive you. I hope the Good Lord forgives you too. The poor bastards over there will probably forgive you as well--the ones sitting and talking calmly, with no idea their time's up."
I snort with laughter. It's nervous, shaky laughter. And suddenly I realize I'm the only one to blame. Me, not the pilot.
Yesterday I swore I wouldn't drink anymore, and a few minutes ago I asked for something to drink. God's mills grind slow but sure. Case closed.
But what did the others do? I think about the faces those two will make when I tell them the big news. The nervous giggles hit me again. I just can't help it. I have to, ha, ha, ha... tell them! Ha, ha! The biggest news of all!
Yeah, you should see their faces. Real happy. They'll look thrilled--eyes rolling back in their heads. They'll look at each other first and then the laughing starts. All three of us will laugh until we crash into the Pacific! What a great joke!
"Ha, ha, ha! You laugh too, Jean-Louis! Come on, laugh, you onion-eating motherfucker! Hee, hee... what a great joke you played on us!"
I hold my belly and laugh until I feel sick, then I start crying. My jaw hurts. Hee, hee, my jaw hurts so bad! I slap myself a few times and manage to calm down.
Stop! Enough with the joke. I wipe the tears off my cheek and massage my jaw. I hope I look more or less normal again, because I don't want to look like a lunatic when I go over there and tell them the Big News.
No, I shouldn't be harsh with them. I'll be delicate... sensitive, careful. I'll tell them slowly, little by little, I'll prepare them. I'll be gentle like a priest. Damn it, it doesn't help anyone if I scare them.
"Still, I don't know a damn word of German," I whisper as I open the door. "I only know about ten words. Eh... it's nothing! I'll explain with gestures!"