Julie Clark - The Last Flight

Danielle steps into the room and runs her fingers across the back of one of the chairs. “I’d just seen the video of you at the A’s event, and even though Mr. Cook never said anything to me about it, his sudden trip to Oakland made me believe he had seen it too. I was hoping to record a conversation about their plans to find you, to give you an idea of where and how they’d be looking. I had no idea I’d end up with something so much better.”

“It was an incredibly brave and stupid thing to do.”

Danielle grins. “That’s exactly what my mom said.” She checks her watch. “We’d better finish. Time’s almost up.”

I close the drawer with a quiet click and follow Danielle into the living room, where we pack the last of my things.

Petra enters the room just as I’m zipping my bag closed. “Ready?” she asks us.

I give the room one last look. The thick rugs, the expensive furniture, all of it meaningless to me now, and I smile at them both. “Ready,” I say.

Epilogue

John F. Kennedy Airport, New York

Tuesday, February 22

The Day of the Crash

I hunch down on the ground next to the Jetway, picking up the scattered items from Claire’s purse, my only view the shoes of the people in line around me, and shove it all back inside, save my prepaid phone. That I hold up to my ear.

My plan is simple. First, I’ll ease sideways, as if I need to lean against the wall for balance. Then, I’ll turn away from the straggling line of travelers, obedient and forward-facing. After that, it will be a simple matter of walking with purpose in a new direction.

I’m just about to speak into the silent phone, to launch into another fake conversation—maybe something urgent, requiring a little space, a little privacy, when someone says, “Ma’am, are you okay?”

The voice comes from above me, behind the crowd of travelers that block my view. Another gate agent materializes, and I slowly rise to a stand, my knees popping. “I dropped my purse,” I explain, pulling it back onto my shoulder, feeling the slight tremor of a closing door. A missed opportunity.

“Since you’re scanned onto the flight, I’m going to need you to stay in line,” the gate agent says.

I reclaim my spot in front of the women who were complaining about the wait, the slope of the Jetway pulling me forward. Somewhere, Claire is already in the air, flying toward California, and I feel a stab of guilt. Not for the lies I told, but perhaps I should have at least warned her to be careful.

As the line to board the plane inches forward, I wonder if I’d met Claire under different circumstances whether we might have been friends. It feels wrong to be the last person to speak to her before she disappears, to be the only person in the world who knows what happened to her and still not know anything of substance about her. Who she loves. What matters to her, or what she believes in when she needs to believe in something. The specifics of the circumstances that have narrowed down to this single, outrageous option.

We have one thing in common. Each of us is desperate enough to take the risk. To turn our backs on who the world demands we be. It isn’t just what has been done to each of us—by Dex, by Claire’s husband—it’s a system that tells women we are unreliable, and then expendable. That our truths don’t matter when set side by side with a man’s.

I try to clear my mind. To focus on what will come next for me. Liz will worry when I don’t call as promised, but it has to be this way. When Castro arrives on her doorstep, Liz needs to be able to say with confidence that I returned to do the right thing.

Perhaps a few months from now, Liz might get a small package in the mail. A Christmas ornament—with no card, no return address—from the ripe vineyards of Italy or the crowded streets of Mumbai. And she’ll know that I’m sorry. That I’m happy. That I’ve finally forgiven myself.

As soon as I board, I’m going to ask to have my aisle seat changed to a window. I want to view the world—its wide vista expanding in a graceful arc below me—and imagine myself in it. My true self, the person Liz showed me I can be.

I hope that when the plane takes off, we’ll fly straight into the sun, the light so bright it will burn away the last vestiges of everything and everyone I’m leaving behind. That it will carry me forward, higher than I’ve ever been, above the fear and the lies, tearing away a page filled with mistakes, the fragments scattering behind me like confetti.

And in its place, I’ll create a new life built from the scraps of memory—some true, some the wished-for imaginings of a little girl who never found her place—constructed with luck and wide beams of gratitude holding it all together.

Maybe someday I’ll dream of my life in Berkeley. Not the one I lived, with its dark corners and deceitful shadows, but the one I conjured up years ago, in a narrow bed above a dusty church in San Francisco. I’ll visit again the light-dappled trails of Strawberry Canyon, high above the old stadium, with its view of a city skyline that seems to rise straight out of the bay. In my mind I’ll walk along campus paths that wind among the redwoods, smell the damp bark and moss soft beneath my feet, listen to the stream tumble and jump across the rocks.

Ahead of me, the line starts moving again, space opening up between people, allowing me to breathe easier. Whatever was wrong has been fixed, and I can feel everyone around me relax, anticipating the vacation that waits for them on the other side of the four-hour flight south.

As I make my way down the Jetway, I feel as if I’m shedding my old self, piece by piece, growing lighter the closer I get to the plane. Pretty soon, I might not weigh anything at all. A laugh bubbles up, light and crisp, carrying none of the debris it usually does. In this moment, I have all I ever wanted. And for the first time, for the only time, it’s enough. I hitch Claire’s purse tighter over my shoulder and touch the outside of the airplane as I step over the threshold, for luck, and don’t look back.

Reading Group Guide

1. What do Claire and Eva have in common? In what ways are they different?

2. How do you feel about Eva’s decision to manipulate Claire?

3. Put yourself in Claire’s shoes. How would it feel knowing that you’ve traded your life for someone else’s? Would you feel guilty or fortunate? Why?

4. Describe the obstacles Claire faces once she escapes from Rory. Were there any difficulties that surprised you?

5. Compare Claire’s relationships with other women in the book like Eva, Danielle, Petra, and Kelly. Are any of these women similar? In what way?

6. Discuss Eva’s childhood. How does it affect how she behaves as an adult?

7. Identify some of the triggers Claire faces as a result of Rory’s abuse. How do you think she can overcome them?

8. Claire makes the difficult decision to go public with her story, knowing full well that she may be met with criticism and disbelief. Why did she make this decision? Would you have handled the situation differently?

9. Liz is the only person Eva allows to get close to her. Describe their friendship. Why is it important to Eva? What does it mean to her?

10. Eva faces several huge difficulties in her life. Do you think her drug dealing is justified, given her circumstances?

11. Characterize Eva’s relationship with Dex. Why does she feel betrayed when she learns the truth about him?

12. How did you feel after reading Eva’s final chapter? Do you think there was anything different she could have done?