John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

Turning into position for takeoff, the pilots shoved the throttles forward. The jet picked up speed and raced over the rubber-scarred concrete until it lifted off midway down the runway and climbed into the air at a forty-five degree angle. The emotions of the four passengers were mixed as the plane streaked upward on the way to its assigned cruising altitude of forty thousand feet. They were on their way across the Mediterranean to the Eternal City, and the ancient chapel was waiting.

The flight attendant remained seated in the back of the cabin across from Ariella as the plane continued to climb and everyone’s ears popped in the changing pressure. She was the same height as Ariella, but slightly frail looking, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Her name was Sarah, and Ariella quickly learned that she was from Abilene, Texas. They talked about Texas, chicken-fried steak, and tubing down the Guadalupe River north of San Antonio in the summer.

“What got you interested in flying?” Ariella asked.

“Daddy’s a pilot. For the past few years he’s been working as Jeb Carlton’s chief pilot. That’s how I got this job. I used to work for an airline, but the people nowadays have become so rude and demanding that I quit after a few years.”

“It must be a lot of fun flying all over the world.”

“I usually fly the local runs around the country, but a few nights ago, I had a really powerful dream about Jerusalem and decided to ask for this trip.”

Ariella’s eyes widened and she let out an unconscious gasp.

Sarah immediately picked up on her reaction. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

Ariella forced herself to smile while casting a sideways glance at John. “No, my ears just popped. What was in your dream?”

“Well, like I said, I was dreaming about Jerusalem, but then I was standing out in the desert, and I definitely had a feeling that something was about to happen. I saw a storm coming and then the wind started to blow and I heard a voice telling me I was chosen. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just curious. I know a lot of people who’ve been having strange dreams lately.”

Sarah’s eyes became vacant as she thought back to the dream. “Yes, it was strange. I kept thinking about it all the next day and when I heard that one of the company jets was flying to Israel, I jumped at the chance to come.”

Ariella noticed that the girl’s movements were almost trance-like as she twirled her hair in her fingers and turned to stare out the window at the sun glinting off the blue sea below.

Ariella leaned close to John. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, this is really weird. I think we need to have a little talk with Leo about her.”

“I agree. This is just too much of a coincidence. There’s a connection here somewhere.”

The jet leveled out and the noise from the engines fell from full power to cruise as Sarah unbuckled her seatbelt and walked forward to begin preparing lunch for her guests.

John reached across the aisle and tapped Leo on the shoulder. “Can we have a word with you, Father?”

“In a minute, John. I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“But this is really important, Leo.”

“So is this.” Leo watched Alon from the corner of his eye and tried to keep a straight face as he showed John the four kings he was holding in his hand.

“Ok,” John said, “but we really need to talk when you’re through.”

Up in the front of the cabin, Sarah was quietly humming to herself as she pulled some food trays from the freezer compartment. She reached up to grab some napkins when she caught the first whiff of something burning. She stepped back and looked at the oven, but then remembered she hadn’t started cooking yet. She froze. An in-flight fire was a flight crew’s worst nightmare.

Within seconds, a misty, red-tinged smoke began to drift through the cabin. Sarah let the trays fall from her hands and jerked open the cockpit door to alert the pilots. She was horrified to see that the cockpit was also filling with smoke, a reddish smoke that was punctuated by the acrid smell of sulfur. A piercing alarm began to sound as a series of red lights flashed on the instrument panel in front of the pilots.

While the mystified crew was trying to process the flood of conflicting information from their instruments, the starboard engine suddenly flamed out and stopped. Confused by this sudden series of events, the copilot called air-traffic control and declared an emergency, while the captain performed a one hundred eighty degree turn back toward the airport.

The plane was still over the Mediterranean with nowhere to land, but the crew had no choice except to descend in a controlled emergency dive. The pilots donned full facemasks, while small yellow oxygen masks fell from the ceiling in the passenger compartment and dangled in front of the five souls who were now beginning to gasp for air.

John and Ariella grabbed two masks and placed them over their faces, breathing in the fresh air while staring into each other’s eyes, wondering if their future together would be only a brief dream before the jet slammed into the sea below. Leo’s winning poker hand was scattered on the floor as he and Alon slipped their masks over their heads and tightened their seatbelts. Without warning, the second engine flamed-out, leaving the jet totally without power. The multimillion-dollar jet had just turned into a heavy glider and plummeted toward the water below.

The captain fought for control of the aircraft and shouted for Sarah to prepare the passengers for a water landing. Inching her way back into the cabin, Sarah strapped herself into a seat and held an oxygen mask to her face. She looked around the cabin and lifted her mask just long enough to instruct her passengers on how to brace themselves for a crash landing.

Alon noticed the absence of sound from the engines. “Both engines are out!”

“Airplanes can still land without power from the engines,” Sarah said.

“They just can’t choose their landing site,” Alon replied, flashing Sarah a soldier’s smile that he and his comrades had adopted in the past when faced with overwhelming odds.

Time was now running out for the jet as it neared the surface of the water twenty miles off the coast.

“Put on your life jackets,” Sarah shouted to her passengers. “They’re stowed under your seats. Remember not to inflate them until you’ve exited the aircraft. If you inflate them too soon, you’ll bob to the ceiling as the plane begins to sink, and you won’t be able to get out. When we get close to the water, I’ll call for you to assume crash positions.”

The smoke in the cabin had become intense and was interfering with the pilot’s ability to see out of the cockpit. They were attempting to level out when the blue of the Mediterranean Sea loomed in front of their windows and the jet slammed into a wave. The right wing submerged first, ripping it away as the plane began to cartwheel over the sea, tearing the main cabin open and scattering pieces of the aircraft along the path of destruction. The jet flipped two more times before finally coming to a stop and taking another wave over the top of the fuselage. Sea water rushed in and what was left of the main cabin quickly began to sink.

Moshe ran into the villa, shouting and gesturing like a crazy man as he ran up the stairs and heaved himself into Lev’s room.

Standing in front of his bathroom mirror wearing only khaki shorts, Lev was busy trimming his beard with a pair of scissors. In the mirror, he saw the reflection of Moshe standing in the doorway, tears streaming down his face.

“We just got a call from Nava,” Moshe blurted. “She heard over her radio that the jet just crashed into the Mediterranean.”