Row 8, Seat D

A middle seat and a lesson I almost missed

 First class has nerve.

A thin curtain across the aisle, like it’s doing something. I’m in row 8, seat D. One layer between first class and me. I don’t give it another thought. Not worth it at 6 AM.

I settle into the assigned middle seat, AirPods in, scrolling for something to check out. Sleep or distraction. Either works. The window seat is empty. That’s all I need to see.

Mr. Patagonia takes the aisle. Tall, quiet, looks like he hikes on purpose. He doesn’t speak. I don’t either. We understand each other. No small talk.

The flight is about to close. Window seat still open. I move.

I lean over and let him know I’m taking the window so he can stretch out. He thanks me like it meant something. We’re good.

I turn off the air. Rest my head on the window. For a moment, I’m comfortable. That’s rare on a plane.

Then he coughs.

One cough. I pause. Trying to read it.

I shift. Close my eyes. Almost there.

“Excuse me.”

A man in all black, hooded up, out of breath. He points to the seat and says, Row 8. Seat F.

I smiled and said, “Welcome to row 8.”

He grabs the headrest, catching his breath, and says he missed his flight out of Fresno and ran through the airport to make this one. He didn’t think he’d make it home to his wife.

That’s all I needed. I let it go. I’m glad he made it.

I slide back into the middle seat.

Mr. Patagonia coughs.

Then Mr. Track Suit coughs.

I sit still between them.

Polysporin in my nostrils. A mask in my purse. And here I am.

And that’s when it stops being about the seat.

It’s about what I read before I left the house.

My Upper Room meditation that morning spoke about protection. Things are happening around me, but not touching me. Taming the Tongue said the same. Stay covered.

I read it. I agreed with it.

So I look up.

You see this, right? I’m in the middle of two coughers. I came prepared. I read the Word. Why am I sitting in this?

And the answer comes back:

Why are you worried about them?

Why don’t you have on your mask?

I had no response.

I had what I needed. I just wasn’t using it.

I reach into my purse, pull out my mask, and put it on.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Flight AA 1673 is ready for takeoff.”

#032623