The Way to Jeddah - Pt. II

Faraj saw the landscape in his window disappear as the massive Saudia jet banked to the left and hugged the coastline of the rolling hills of Rancho Palos Verdes. All he could see was the infinite blue palette that was the Pacific Ocean and it took him back again to the ports of Jeddah. He had always been fascinated by the size of the cargo ships when he saw them up close but was equally as fascinated by how small the ocean made them look once they had departed. The same was true of this airborne ship he now rode. What had a few hours ago seemed to him an enormous flying metal tube bearing 400 people with room to spare was now barely a blip on the radar over the largest body of water on the earth. He suddenly felt very small.

As the plane leveled out, Faraj took out the bottle of medication recommended by several friends as the best way to travel: unconscious. He popped a couple pills and hoped he would sleep for at least half of the 15-hour trip to his home. By the time the lights of Las Vegas were visible, he was fading fast.

Six and a half miles below, on the desolate plains of western Nebraska, Jonah waited with anticipation as the flashing lights came closer into view. With the help of his smartphone, he knew whenever the big jets were about to fly overhead and never missed the opportunity to watch them, even at night. He would try and guess the type of plane first and where it was going, then he would check his phone for the answer. The more exotic the airline and final destination, the better. He was excited tonight as a massive Boeing 777 was headed right towards him. There wasn’t much to do in Sidney, Nebraska and this was the only way to indulge his love of aviation. From the icon on the app, he knew it was a 777 but he didn’t know the airline yet nor where it was headed. His first guess: “It’s gotta be out of LAX; probably a United 777-200 heading to JFK or Boston at this time of night.” He checked his phone. “Holy shit!” he said out loud, even though he was alone in the pasture behind his house. “Saudia Airlines 777-300 headed to Jeddah! Big sonofabitch!” This was a rare treat. Usually those big planes on international routes didn’t fly over Nebraska. It was as if they were too good be seen flying over this part of the state, he thought. But tonight, for whatever reason, there she was, a flickering giant in the sky. He could see the distinct triangular pattern of the white lights underneath the plane. It wasn’t long after he could see the lights that he heard the unique rumble of those enormous General Electric engines, the biggest in the world.

This activity had recently become a sort of church service for Jonah. His wife didn’t even ask anymore when he would put on his coat, grab his binoculars, and head outside late in the evening. After the death of his daughter, who had suffered for several years in her battle with leukemia, his faith had slowly worn away and was now nothing more than a tattered garment where a regal robe used to be. He no longer desired to believe in a man-made construct in which a loving god intervened for some but not for others. Those biblical stories he had once read to his daughter now seemed laughably foolish. It had never occurred to him that, according to his long-held sacred beliefs, the world was populated from the womb of one woman; the only men available to procreate being her husband and her two sons. This was one of many such stories that, in the light of new ways of thinking, he actually regretted sharing with his innocent, naive little girl those many years ago.

What he couldn’t shake, though, was his love of certain religious rituals: the Catholic Mass, the Sacred Liturgy of the Eastern Orthodoxy, the history of Judaism, and the mesmerizing musical drone of Islamic worship. He had, however, walked through that forbidden doorway and knew that once he had passed through the door, there was no going back. Those rituals and the comfort and hope they brought was nothing but a pleasant memory; just like the images of his little girl, filed away for future reference but of little use now.

Jonah took a quick look on his phone to confirm the location of Jeddah. He knew it was in the Middle East but wasn’t sure exactly where. “Ah, the west coast of Saudi Arabia. Wouldn’t have guessed that.” he thought to himself. The exotic allure of Jeddah now resonated sharply inside his mind. He could picture the sandy landscape, dotted with mosques, minarets, weathered old men drinking tea, and dusty shops with Persian rugs hanging on the walls. What he wouldn’t give to be on that plane. He thought of all the passengers floating miles above him and wondered if there were any looking down on him at that moment. He wondered if any of them new how lucky they were to be headed to such a unique and, in his mind, mysterious destination.

At that moment, in seat 28L, Faraj was jolted from his Ambien-induced coma by the harsh voice of the captain on the intercom. Irritated but not yet completely coherent, he used his sleeve to wipe the drool that had started to run down the side of his face, checking to see if anyone noticed. He looked out the window and saw a tiny group of city lights surrounded by boundless darkness. In his stupor, he again thought of the ships he used to watch and wondered if anyone among those lights was watching his ship pass by in the night.

As the rumble of the engines began to dissipate, Jonah sat in his lawn chair, completely alone and surrounded by dark silence. As he prepared to dismiss his church service and let the hopelessness of his new life return, he watched the flickering lights of the large ship disappear into the clouds and dreamed of being a pilgrim…on the way to Jeddah.