The Finnish Fiasco, Chapter Three
Permission was finally granted for Jumpy to move to Finland. This happened because the distant cousin was informed that if Jumpy did not arrive in Finland, then neither would the sizable monthly checks that he was due to receive in exchange for his guardianship.
Mrs. Thompson had planned to fly with Celia to Finland, to make sure she arrived safely, but a week before the departure date, she had an attack of dropsy. Celia wasn’t sure what exactly dropsy was, but she did know that it made Mrs. Thompson look puffy and tired. The dropsy doctor said that Under No Circumstances was Mrs. Thompson allowed to fly. A new plan was needed.
The family attorney was notified. A few days later he telephoned and Celia answered. She was standing at the kitchen sink looking out the window at the yellow-leaved gingko tree when the phone rang. “You are one lucky little lady,” the attorney said. “I found an airline that lets children fly without an adult. They have specially trained flight attendants to keep an eye on you.”
“Okay,” Celia said, although she didn’t see what difference it made. She was an experienced traveler and didn’t need anyone to keep an eye on her. “I can still take Jumpy, right?”
“Yes, indeedy, that’s all settled. Tell Mrs. T. to call me when she betters up, and we can go over the nitty-gritty.”
“Do they have gingko trees in Finland?” Celia asked, as she watched the yellow leaves fall. She was going to miss this tree.
“You are one strange little girl, you know that?” The attorney laughed and hung up without answering her question.
Although Celia had hoped that it would never arrive, eventually, and much too quickly, the day of departure did arrive. She sat on the edge of her bed as she waited for the taxi that would take her to the airport. She looked at the familiar surroundings and wondered if she would ever see them again. The mockingbird tapped her beak against the window, as if saying goodbye in Morse code. The crack in the ceiling, the blue bedspread, the empty hangers in the closet—Celia tried to memorize everything. Her suitcase was packed and downstairs, by the front door. A yellow taxi pulled up in front of the house and the driver honked twice. Celia took one final look around, then went downstairs.
Jumpy did not like being put into her travel crate. She braced her hind legs and yowled in protest. With Mrs. Thompson’s help, Celia managed to push her in and latch the door. “It’s only for a few hours,” Celia said. “I’ll be right next to you, and after takeoff you can sit on my lap.” Jumpy twitched her tail angrily, and refused to look at Celia.
At the airport, Mrs. Thompson hugged Celia, her cloudy old eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Promise to write and tell me everything,” she said for the umpteenth time.
“I promise,” Celia said. She was not crying, because she was not the kind of girl who cried. Her mother always said that crying was a waste of time. Plus, it makes one’s face puffy.
“Last call for Irascible Air, flight 1313 to Helsinki,” the flight attendant at the gate said. She glanced at Celia, who was the only remaining passenger in the waiting area. With a long red fingernail she flicked an imaginary speck of lint from her sleeve. “Little girl,” she said, “if you are planning to go to Finland you must board at once.”
“Where is the person who is supposed to take care of her during the flight?” Mrs. Thompson asked.
The flight attendant frowned. “We take care of all our passengers. Is there something special that this child requires?”
“No,” said Mrs. Thompson. “But I was told that someone would be keeping an eye on her, just in case.”
“Fine, I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Thompson said, anxiously. “This seems highly irregular.”
The flight attendant glanced at her watch. “There’s no more time. Are you coming or not?”
“I’ll be okay, don’t worry,” Celia said. She hugged Mrs. Thompson one last time, hoisted her backpack over her shoulder, picked up the crate containing Jumpy, and headed down the jetway. She did not look back, because her father always said that looking back only depresses people. Jumpy did not look back either.
The jetway reminded Celia of a rodent cage, the kind with connecting tubes for a hamster to scurry through. If a giant bloodshot eye had appeared at one of the small round windows she would not have been surprised.
“Welcome to Irascible Air,” a male flight attendant said. Celia admired his crisp navy uniform. She appreciated grown-ups who dressed nicely. She herself did not dress nicely, but that was because she was only nine. Her clothes were always getting ripped, or chocolate stained, or covered with cat hair.
The attendant looked at her boarding pass. “Ah, you are the unaccompanied minor we will be keeping an eye on. You look like a well-behaved child.” He frowned and gave her a suspicious look. “Are you a well-behaved child?”
“I think so,” Celia said. She remembered the time she had gotten in trouble for writing on the kitchen wall with a red crayon, but she had been much younger.
“I certainly hope so,” the attendant said. “We don’t like troublemakers on Irascible Air. You have the window seat, 12 C. Your pet must go underneath the seat directly in front of you.
“Thank you,” Celia said. The elderly couple in seats 12 A and 12 B stood in the aisle to let Celia and Jumpy get to 12 C.
“You’re traveling with your cat?” asked the old lady, peering into Jumpy’s crate. “What a lovely feline. I’m Penny Pendergast and this is my husband, Percy.”
“I’m moving to Finland to live with a distant cousin,” Celia said. “Jumpy is my only real family now because my parents recently died in a plane crash.” Celia was speaking in a loud voice because it was noisy with the slamming of bins and the chatter of the passengers.
When the conversation around her suddenly stopped, Celia realized that perhaps bringing up the manner of her parents’ demise was not the best idea. People stared at her. Someone started to cry. A middle aged woman sitting across the aisle pressed one hand to her chest. “Oh dear, I think I’m having an anxiety attack!”
The male flight attendant stalked to Celia’s seat. “You are alarming the passengers! Stop making up silly stories!”
“But I’m not,” Celia protested. She started to say that her parents really did die in a plane crash in Africa, but decided that it was probably best to remain silent.
Penny took her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “How fortunate that your cat was not on that ill-fated flight. She must be a comfort to you.”
“Yes, she is,” Celia said. “I’m glad you believe me,” she added in a whisper. “I would never make up a story like that.”
The old people must have been worn out by their travels. They fell asleep while the flight attendants were explaining what to do in the unlikely event of a water landing. They didn’t even wake up during take-off. The pilot turned off the seat belt sign and the flight attendants began pushing the refreshment carts down the aisle.
Jumpy stuck a paw through a ventilation hole in her crate and batted Celia’s leg. “I haven’t forgotten you, Jumpy. I’ll let you out soon.” She unwrapped the blue blanket that was in the seat pocket in front of her. “This will be perfect for you to hide under.”
“Excuse me, sir,” the female flight attendant said loudly to the old man. “Would you care for a beverage?”
“Heels down!” the old man yelled, still fast asleep. “Chin up! Look to the far side of the fence!” He mumbled something else and began snoring again. The flight attendant rolled her eyes. She didn’t bother trying to wake the old lady.
“What would you like to drink?” she asked Celia, as she adjusted the silver wings pinned to her lapel.
“Root beer, please,” Celia said. She wasn’t normally a soda drinker, because water was so much healthier for a person. But she figured that since she was sort of on vacation, she would have a root beer. Her father had always said that when a person is on vacation the normal rules need not apply.
“We only serve coffee or water,” the flight attendant said. “Which will it be?”
“Water, please.”
“For your meal, you may choose a smoked reindeer sandwich or marinated reindeer salad with a side of pickled radishes. Which will it be?” The flight attendant tapped a fingernail impatiently against the cart while she waited for Celia to answer.
“Do you have any cheese and crackers?” Celia had never eaten reindeer and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“Did I say we have cheese and crackers, or did I say we have reindeer sandwiches and reindeer salads? I think you know perfectly well what I said.” The flight attendant looked angry.
“Just water then, please.” Celia was glad that the Pendergasts separated her from this hostile flight attendant.
After she drank her water, Celia opened the door to the crate. Jumpy climbed into her lap, snuggled down and began purring. Her purr was quite loud but nobody would notice over the engine noise and Percy’s snoring. Celia draped the blanket over her cat, careful to leave breathing space.
She hadn’t intended to, but Celia dozed off. She dreamed about Istanbul, a beautiful old city in Turkey, where she had vacationed with her parents. Her favorite thing in Istanbul had been the call to prayer, which was a singing kind of chant that the mosques broadcast over loudspeakers five times a day. It was lovely and unlike anything she had ever heard. The Piper family was not religious, but her mother had always said that just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the beauty found in it.
Penny Pendergast gently shook Celia’s arm. “Wake up,” she said. “We’re going to be landing soon. You should put your cat back in the crate.
Celia blinked, and tried to remember where she was. At that moment, the female flight attendant appeared, checking to make sure everyone was properly buckled in.
“Is your seat belt fastened?” she asked, looking at Celia’s lap. She noticed the big lump made by Jumpy, who was still under the blanket.
“What’s under that blanket?” she demanded. Jumpy had just shifted her position slightly, so that she could lick an itchy spot on her tail.
Celia didn’t know what to say, so she said what people often say when they don’t know what to say, which is: “What do you mean?”
The flight attendant reached over and grabbed the blanket, intending to yank it off. However, she also grabbed part of Jumpy’s tail, which Jumpy did not appreciate. She sank her sharp claws through the thin blanket and into the flight attendant’s hand. She may have also accidentally bitten a finger.
“YAHHHH!” the flight attendant screeched. When she saw the blood dripping from her hand she screeched even more loudly. “I’ve been attacked!” She rushed off to get a bandage and some disinfectant.
Celia quickly put Jumpy back in the crate. She had barely clicked the door shut when the male flight attendant appeared. “What just happened?” he asked.
“I’m very sorry,” Celia said, “my cat scratched your colleague.”
“It was a natural reaction,” Penny said. “That foolish woman grabbed the cat’s tail. One should never grab the tail of a cat.”
“Pets are required to remain in their crates for the duration of the flight,” the attendant said. “Why was the cat not in the crate?”
“I just took her out for a little while,” Celia said in a small voice. She wondered if she was going to get in a lot of trouble or just a little trouble. She had a Bad Feeling.
“You broke the rules!” said the attendant, waggling a finger in her face. “And now we have an injury.”
“Good heavens, sir,” said Percy, who had finally been awakened by all the ruckus. “It’s just a cat scratch. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”
“Yes, you certainly are,” Penny said. “Run along now, and stop harassing this girl.” She spoke with surprising authority.
The attendant glared. “This doesn’t concern either of you. I suggest you MYOB, which in case you don’t know means: ‘Mind Your Own Business.’ He looked at Celia. “The authorities will escort you and your cat into the terminal for an Incident Interrogation. Your cat will need to be tested for contagious diseases and possibly confiscated. ” Jumpy snarled, but the attendant had already moved down the aisle.
