Issue 06
flash creative non-fiction
“Marriage as a Downed Aircraft”
by Carole Besharah
“Drive In” by Hugh Findlay
Manufactured in Kapuskasing, Ontario, the Matrimony-1 took its inaugural flight on February 22, 2003. Forty-two people were in attendance to witness the takeoff ceremony. The menu featured roasted carrot soup, maple chicken, and a dessert of puff pastry swans, necks intertwined into a heart, swimming in a berry purée.
The male pilot, age 32, was worried that his squabbling parents would cause a disturbance during the soirée. The female pilot, age 29, was preoccupied with spending time with every guest. Some witnesses say pink bloomed brighter on his checks as the evening wore on, while a glint of concern shone in her eyes. No photographs of the celebration remain, for the album and negatives of that evening have been lost or destroyed—an investigation yielded no answers.
The crash of the aircraft occurred on October 6, 2005, just before 19:00 EST. That evening, the pilots were en route to their hangar. As luck would have it, the two regular child passengers were not aboard the Matrimony-1 at that time. The eldest would nonetheless
suffer emotional repercussions for years to come. The youngest would grow up without any memory of the time before the crash. Records disclosed the Matrimony-1 had a mere 957 days logged at the time of its destruction.
That night, in the cockpit, an indicator light had been flashing a stall warning for some time. Its glowing crimson pulsations went unnoticed by the pilots—they were too engrossed in playing their never-ending rendition of the blame game. She was too demanding of his attention, didn’t work hard enough at losing those lingering baby pounds. He was too closed off, spent more time working out in the evenings than helping with the kids and the chores.
The female pilot was the first to observe that the Matrimony-1 was falling in a dangerous nosedive. She hollered a distress call after realizing that they were about to reach irreversible break-up speed. A brief verbal exchanged between the two pilots ensued. There is no evidence of the male pilot reaching for the controls or radioing for help.
During the tense final minutes, it became clear that they could not get back on course. The sound of heartbreak resounded following the impact. Both pilots survived but suffered significant injuries.
After the crash, friends and family claimed that red flags had been ignored from the beginning of their steady downward trajectory. Forensics was able to pinpoint those telltale signs when interpreting the aerial mapping of the pilots’ short-lived partnership. While there was public speculation that fire had engulfed the engine at the time of the crash, forensic evidence rejected this opinion. The spark had burned out prior to their final swan dive. The main contributing factor of the crash was conclusive: irreconcilable differences.
A cockpit voice recorder (CVR) team completed a transcript of the conversation between the two pilots that occurred moments before the wreck. It was translated from French for the purposes of this report.
Legend
CAM = Cockpit area microphone voice or sound source FC = Voice identified as female captain MC = Voice identified as male captain EST = Eastern Standard Time * = Unintelligible remark --- = Silence [ ] = Editorial insertion
18:51:11 EST CAM-FC I can’t live like this anymore. I just can’t.
18:51:15 EST CAM [Sound of sniffling, crying.]
18:51:14 EST CAM-FC I just can’t.
18:51:18 EST CAM [Sound of sniffling, crying.]
18:51:43 EST CAM [Sounds of rustling. As on a chair.]
18:52:22 EST CAM-FC Don’t you have anything to say? Don’t you see this isn’t working?
18:52:28 EST CAM ---
18:52:53 EST CAM [Sounds of blowing of nose.]
18:53:01 EST CAM-FC You never say what you feel. You just sit there. Staring. Not fucking blinking. Like you’re in a fucking trance.
18:53:07 EST CAM-FC Just say something!
18:53:11 EST CAM ---
18:53:18 EST CAM [Sound deep intake of breath.]
18:53:21 EST CAM-FC Do you even love me?
18:53:25 EST CAM-MC ---
18:53:30 EST CAM-FC [Shouts.] Do. You. Love. Me.
18:53:34 EST CAM-MC No. No, I don’t.
18:53:44 EST CAM ---
18:53:53 EST CAM-FC Have you ever loved me?
18:54:00 EST CAM-MC *
18:54:06 EST CAM-FC [Shouts.] What? WHAT?!
18:54:12 EST CAM-MC No. But that doesn’t matter. We have to stay together. For the kids.
18:54:25 EST CAM-FC For the KIDS? How is that good for the kids? Seeing their parents in a loveless marriage?
18:54:31 EST CAM-MC It worked for my parents. They don’t love each other and they stay together, and—
18:54:35 EST CAM-FC [Shouts.] And look how happy they are! I don’t want that for the kids. I don’t want that for me.
18:54:48 EST CAM-MC *
18:54:53 EST CAM-FC It’s over. We’re over. Ugh. We can’t be together anymore.
18:55:01 EST CAM-MC But I—
18:55:03 EST CAM-FC I want you to go. I need to be alone.
18:55:11 EST CAM-MC C’mon. I—
18:55:14 EST CAM-FC [Shouts.] ALONE! I can’t. I need you to leave. Please. Just. Leave.
18:55:29 EST CAM [Sounds of shuffling and rustling.]
18:55:41 EST CAM [Sounds of a cockpit door slamming.]
18:55:43 EST CAM-FC No, no, no, no, no—
18:55:48 EST CAM [Sound of destruction. End of recording.] *
Carole Besharah is a Canadian writer who studied arts at the University of Guelph and writing at both Algonquin College and the University of Toronto. Her works have appeared or are forthcoming in Under the Gum Tree, The Globe and Mail, In/Words Magazine, and elsewhere. Carole lives at the foothills of the Laurentian Mountains in Gatineau, Quebec. Find her on Instagram at @caro_besharah.
Hugh Findlay’s writing and photography have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies in print and online. He is in the third trimester of life. Find him on Instagram and Twitter at @hughmanfindlay.