The cabin lights began to flicker and everything became alive. The squeal of the engines consumed all thought. He saw the ailerons on the wing move, and the flames were out.
The pilots had control.
“Thank you Jesus,” said Bono gratefully. The man beside Bono stared at him.
Was this a miracle? thought Bono.
God was with him.
>“This is your Captain speaking. Please put on your life vests, and take off your shoes if you haven’t done so already, and give them to the air hostesses. I'm going to make an emergency landing... <
“You have to take off your glasses, sir. I’ll make sure you get them back,” said the terrified hostess before him. She had trouble standing in the isle. Her cheeks had trails where her foundation was washed away by streaming tears. Her skin below had a soft, beautiful shine.
He looked into her eyes and handed her his tangerine glasses in their mock turtle shell case. “Its okay,” his eyes said to her.
“Do I really have to take off my boots?“ They were Edun’s. They were a part of him.
She shook her head, yes, took his shoes, and proceeded down the aisle.
He sat their for a moment, shoeless, sunglassless, naked. He forgot to give her his special edition U2 iPod.
He turned back toward the isle. She was dealing with other passengers. A woman was irate she had to give up her new Manolo Blahnik pumps.
He could see how much tension was in the air. The flight attendants were all beyond stressed. Bono tucked his iPod away.
He took a moment and sucked air into his diaphragm. He had breath control few people had ever had. He knew what he had to do.
He undid his safety belt and stood up in the cabin.
He looked around at the passengers. Children. Men. Women. Sons. Daughters.
He began to sing.
"The heart is a bloom," the first word was lost in the volume of the room, but he compensated. "Shoots up through the stony ground."
"There's no room. No space to rent in this town. C'mon people. "
People quieted. He expected the flight attendants to raise hell, but they were just as happy to hear him sing, as was everyone else. He smiled.
And, for some reason, this was calming to the other passengers around him. They all knew the song, and to hear Bono sing the catchiest lyrics ever sung, while their lives were in the precipice of death, was soothing.
"You're out of luck, and the reason that you had to care. The plane is stuck And you're not moving anywhere"
A teenage girl laughed and felt awkward.
"You thought you'd found a friend, are you listening?" "To take you out of this place, it's a horrible place."
"Someone you could lend a hand," he held the hand of and an older woman. "In return for grace,"
"Okay, you all know this." He raised his hand into the air, still holding on to the woman who griped tight enough for Bono to lose circulation. He was alright with that. "Sing along ma'am"
"I don't know the words," she said. Bono knew she felt foolish.
"Yes you do"
He opened his mouth and the chorus of the plane sang out with him, "It's a beautiful day."
He was ready.
He was good.
He was Bono.