Carbon Footprint II

It was human nature to be curious. Many geniuses were emboldened by such a desire that it fueled an entire century with world-changing innovation and discovery. Alas, humans fell off after that age of enlightenment. Most of them now use that desire to fuel their sad lives. To gossip regarding matters not in their purview.

Half a dozen passengers crowded the lavatory of the economy class cabin. The onlookers merely gazed with interest as panicked shouts amid a bolstering cry of an old woman echoed across the cabin.

"Get out of the way, people!" A large man in a blue vest, a flight attendant, waded through the crowd of on-lookers and bystanders. "Allison, get the first-aid kit in the galley. Call Ms. Mary, now!"

"Dante, she's bleeding!" Another flight attendant yelled for the man to hurry as she placed pillows under the pregnant woman's head to make her more comfortable. More comfortable in an airplane lavatory, that is.

Another attendant motioned for the crowd to back off, using forceful means when necessary.

Amidst the commotion, a handsome young man with a striking blue eyes scavenged the trays within the confines of the galley as his stomach rumbled.

"God, how hard is it to find some food in here?" Irwin, now angry and hungry, barely restrained himself to not rip apart the drawers.

Suddenly, the curtain hanging over the galley entrance whizz open, revealing the form of Allison Monroe. 

"I need- Oh, my god!" Allison yelled, stepping back in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh... Looking for you, actually?" Irwin gave a half-smirk, embarrassed at his glutton-like ramblings earlier. "What-what are you doing here?"

"I-I'm a stewardess? Also looking for the first-aid kit." She moved past Irwin and went towards the emergency supply kit. As she headed back to where she came from, Allison gazed back and asked, "You're not, by chance, a doctor, are you?"

"Not by a long shot." Irwin shook his head. "Hey, before you leave... do you have any chips?"

Allison opened a lower drawer, revealing the long-awaited nourishment, and left the galley.

●●●Lavatory●●●

"Miss, you gotta push!" The flight attendant, Dante, ordered. His elbows spreading the blanket covered legs of the pregnant woman. "How do you say push in your language?"

A brown-skinned middle-aged woman, now bereft of tears, helped in the delivery. "Dorong bayinya!"

"O-okay. Miss, Dorong bayinya! Dorong bayinya!" Dante ordered the woman, wishing to God he took his father's offer in his insurance firm.

"I'm back! I have the kit!" Yelled Allison, running towards them as fast as her 3-inch heels could take. "What do I do?"

"Grab the alcohol and some gloves. I want you to disinfect them, just in case the baby needs to be pulled out." Dante instructed over the loud praying of the mother of the pregnant woman.

"Please, lord God! Help sayangku! She's so young." The mother cried and prayed.

Over the next five minutes, heart aching screams resounded around the plane as the multiple flight attendants helped push the baby out of the mother's womb. Thankfully, the pilots quickly called dispatch and assisted with the labor.

As the sound of natal cries filled the air, sighs of relief and joyous clapping resounded around the plane.

At 01:48 a.m., Baby Guntur Hasan Ip-ting was born. The mother, who identified herself as 'Salma, held his daughter to her lap and comforted her in a language none of them could understand. But, as the crowd cooed over Baby Guntur, the soft sobbing turned quieter by the second. 

In a panic, Dante alerted Miss Mary as he desperately pushed two fingers into the baby's chest.

"Shit! What do we do?" Allison whispered hysterically.

Miss Mary quickly came towards them and saw the state of the infant. She immediately contacted the medical personnel on the other end of the line. 

"You need to land immediately!" The medical personnel on the other end of the line suggested futilely. "If not, then try to remove anything blocking his passageway."

The trio subtly moved their rescue operation towards the other end of the Economy Class cabin, away from the sight of the fainting mother and worried grandmother.

Dante held the baby in his bulky arms while Miss Mary tried to find any bulk on the baby's throat. Finding none, the medical personnel suggested back blows and abdominal thrusts, to no avail.

As the minutes pass, the baby's skin began to turn blue.

"I saw this thing in a movie where they, like, put a straw in the throat. Will that work?" Allison hastily grabbed a paper straw from a nearby tray and gazed at the more experienced flight attendants, tears dropping from her eyes.

"Will that work?" Miss Mary asked the medical personnel. "Answer!"

"I-it's not recommended for a baby-"

Dante shook his head and interrupted, "We don't have any choice. We need to do it! Now!"

Allison immediately handed Miss Mary a Swiss army knife. The latter went to work as she brought her shaking hands towards the baby's throat and, surprisingly, made a small incision along the cricothyroid membrane. Blood seeped out of the wound, but the trio continued on with their work.

Dante noted that the paper straw would get wet before they could work, so he had them replaced by a plastic straw. In a matter of seconds, with the help of the medical personnel, the trio successfully performed cricothyrotomy on baby Guntur.

For a moment, the trio held their breaths as they waited for the effects on the blue-hued baby. Seconds ticked by, but the baby neither breathed out nor cried. The hues turned blue to purple before Dante felt the small body cooling down.

The infant's twinkling eyes, once full of life, were now bereft of existence.

"No, no, no, no," Dante resumed resuscitation, pumping air into the clearly dead baby, before Miss Mary gently touched his heaving shoulder. "Please, please, not again."

"Dante, stop. You'll just hurt yourself." Miss Mary pleaded softly, sorrow in her eyes. She motioned for Allison to take the infant corpse from Dante as she rubbed his back.

"Why don't you clean the baby in First Class?" Allison nodded at the request as she went downstairs into first-class

●●●First-Class Cabin●●● 

A few hours into the flight, Irwin gazed at his dust-stained fingers as he threw the last of his bag of chips. Although his leather belt hurt his bulging belly, he still had a smile plastered on his face.

Ever since he reincarnated on this world, his tongue had the most pleasant experience in the entirety of its life. Sure, it was nice to taste beef so soft that it melted in his mouth, birds so small that it was illegal to eat, or even that lemon sorbet made and exported in Greece, but, once in a while, it was to be reminded where he came from.

He wasn't born with a silver spoon. His palate, slowly growing more variety, still enjoyed the simpler things in life.

His poverty-porn musing struck out of his mind by the sound of sobbing. Although silent as the moonless night, his enhanced senses still perceived the ruckus back to the galley. A familiar tone reached his ears, one that roused pity within.

He reached the galley, swatting away the cloth and revealing Allison's sobbing form. SHe was hunched down beside a high chair where one was more focused on not falling down rather than one's drink.

Her eyesore for a uniform was now stained with dry blood, created an even more ghastly sight. She hurriedly drank a bubbling clear liquor down until it's empty.

Irwin removed his blazer, cleaning his finger with the inside cloth, and sat next to her. A small smile graced her lips as she noticed him, something Irwin wouldn't miss.

"Red looks good on you," He began with regret, scrunching his face soon after. "Sorry. Did something happen?"

Allison hung her head, scoffing at the question. "A lot happened. The baby... it died."

"I'm sorry." He consoled, placing his hands on her drinking hand. "Maybe you should talk about it. Also, maybe stop drinking on the job."

She tried to resist, but found herself submitting to the might of alcohol and solicitude. With a sigh, she let go of the empty glass and turned hatefully towards Irwin. "What do you care? You just wanna get in my pants."

"Skirts. You wear... lovely, and totally not awful colored, skirts." Once again regretting his choice of jokes. "What I meant was-"

"You're an awful person!" Allison gave a quivering smile, a tear slinking away from her left eye. "But I like my job... most of the time, so I'll stop."

Before he could redirect the conversation to a lighter tune, Irwin couldn't help but ask, "Did someone inform the mother of the death?"

"She has. She's crying..."

'So other people know of his death,' Irwin surmised, having a bad feeling about this matter. 'If the baby's soul hasn't left the body yet, it could immerse itself from the excess extreme emotions let out by the people. It could interfere with the journey to the afterlife or even create a ghost. At least, that's the theory.'

He gave a weary sigh, thanking his lucky stars most of the books he focused on were Lady Anastasia's tomes. He had gained a deeper understanding of the afterlife and the undead in this world. But soon, warm, vodka-smelling lips brought him out of his reverie as Allison lunged at him with ill intent.

"W-what are you doing?" He asked, surprised at her straight-forwardness.

"Sorry, I just thought- you were staring at me." She said, flushed from excitement. "You don't want to?"

He smiled. "It wouldn't hurt, I guess."

Irwin grabbed his companion's hand and led her to one of the unoccupied cabin away from all the hubbub and high-end escorts. As he patted the seat next to him, he felt a chill envelop his whole body, but the sudden warm embrace of a distraught Allison pervaded his every sense.

"Are you sure about this?" He whispered into her collars as his lips touched her warm skin.

"I need this... please." She whispered back, shaking from the harrowing ordeal.

Soon, the chill was all but forgotten.