A condition of uncoordinated flight when the aircraft moves towards the inside of a turn; to move sideways towards the inside of a turning maneuver as a result of excessive bank.
To correct a slip, the pilot should decrease the bank, or increase rudder pressure on the same side as the deflected ball in the turn coordinator. Slips are often used in aircraft with no flaps to increase the rate of descent without increasing the airspeed.
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December 3rd, 2100Z (0500LCL + 1 Day)
Location: Isabela, Negros Occidental, Philippines
I wake up way before my own alarm clock did; an hour earlier than my usual morning call for days like this wherein I am needed for work. However, for some reasons, I still wake up from such a dream. And weirdly, I've somehow brought the feelings of heaviness from my heart straight-out to this reality.
I didn't freak out this time upon finding that I am in a completely different place right now. I guess, having to remember different places and events from our travels for the past two days and my time from my dreams somehow make me quite immune in finding myself in strange locations and even situations. For one, I am completely at ease when I wake up and stare at the ceiling to gain my bearing, and even trust my instinct and memory of last night.
Elian kidnapped me; bringing me out to his adventure from Cebu all the way across the strait and to Negros Occidental. Surprisingly, I was forced to meet with his mother's relatives all due to my intention to buy some delicacies such as piaya and biscocho. Last night, we shared the dinner table with his maternal grandparents, and his aunt, and his cousin, and his cousin-in-law, and his cousin's son.
It was quite chaotic that I've been a mute, unable to answer the questions they threw at me because I couldn't understand what they were talking about. And Elian told them something to stop the questions, and everything was then directed to him instead. The only part of the conversation that I managed to remember in the frenzy was:
"Miga mo?" his grandmother asked, looking at me that made me understand that the question definitely involved me at all.
I raised an eyebrow, and turned to Elian, finding him staring at me for a second and answered with finality, "Waay."
"Pa, Elian," his cousin, that same man that I've mentioned from ago to somehow resemble him, added with a knowing smirk. "Waay pa."
At least, that was how I understood it. Because, even trying to digest the foods served had been quite difficult; no matter how delicious they all are.
I place a hand on my stomach, trying to feel if I am bloated. Thankfully, I am not, that I manage to breathe out a relieved smile.
Remembering last night about how hospitable his family had been, I can't help thinking that there is really some ulterior motive behind their actions. I've been prepared a guest room at once among who knows how many rooms are there in this house. With how dark it had been yesterday, I wasn't able to have a good grasp; but I know that the house is quite huge for such a rather large number of occupants. Not to mention the given generations present. To add, it may appear like those old Spanish colonial houses, but the interior had been already converted to something modern that the entire house is, surprisingly, centralized air conditioned.
I didn't doubt it at all that Elian will be from a family who could let him afford a career in the aviation industry, but one that definitely also gave him the opportunity to enter Ateneo de Manila University; despite all the perks of being a varsity player and a smart student. So, yes, I'll not be surprised if they own a huge part of Isabela, Negros Occidental at all.
I close my eyes and roll to one side of the bed, wielding myself to sleep for the next few minutes before finally being awakened by my alarm for today. For some reasons, as well, this reality feels much more like a dream right now; with what had transpired for me to be here under the roof of Elian's family. And call me insane for even considering how my own dreams are starting to be more familiar to me that I am wishing to consider that, at least, as my own reality.
True, I may not want the idea of living during the American regime with the threat of the Japanese occupation; but that dream gives me some realization that my love had been requited. And it is definitely strange to hear that even if it is just some dreamscape, knowing that such a man as César exists in that world, I can't help but love him, too.
And all again, isn't it a sad thought? Knowing that he is too perfect to even breathe life and at the same time unattainable? Like the cruel reality between the realm of dreams and the waking world is a reflection that the worlds we create beyond our sleeps are often quite better? And yes, of course, it will all be because of our desires, our aspirations, and our hopes turned to it. If only life is easy to deal with that way. Unfortunately, it isn't.
A few minutes of silence follow, except for the soft hum of the air conditioning unit itself and the crowing of the rooster which is like the clash of city and province life. I open my eyes, give up in trying to return back to sleep, and take the room's ventilation remote from the bedside table, closing then the vents of the air condition in the room. Now that we're really in the province, it will be a good call, definitely, to feel and smell some fresh air. Hence, I move out of the bed and draw out the curtains to the sides.
It is still quite too early, and given the month, it is still dark outside. However, squinting a little through the horizon, one can hint that it is starting to lighten as well compared to the darkness of midnight. But thanks to the street lights leading to the house, and the perimeter's fence lights, I can somehow hint that we're really in the middle of nowhere; not really like in the field of nowhere, but in the middle of a field of plantations itself.
"Hmm?" I blink as I stop for a moment from opening the sliding windows and squint my eyes to see if I am seeing right.
It is still too early and dark but it appears like Elian had already come from somewhere. He is visibly recognizable under the outdoor lights as he comes through the gates wearing a shirt and some jersey shorts, as if he returns home from some morning jog, I think. Did he always have the time to be so physically active? Did he even have the time for other things? And now, it is weird to imagine that he can do all of it; making me wonder as well how César managed to do that as a college student—a varsity student of not just one but four different sports and still be an honor student considering a course definitely not just some lazy dealings under the sun.
Kaya siguro walang panahon si Elian sa mga babae... I tell myself. Or baka talaga totoo ang mga sabi-sabi na mas trip niya ang mga lalaki...
Looking on and waiting for him to return back in the house before I completely open the windows, I am surprised that he instantly receives a basketball thrown at his direction. Whoever did so is by the front steps of the house, obscured from the view; until a few seconds later, his cousin draws closer to him and they converse about something. I do not need to be a detective to understand that his cousin is inviting him for some game. They then laugh before Elian returns the ball, surely declining the offer, and enters in the house. As his cousin follows after him, I am then assured that both of them had retreated back in.
Opening the windows after them leaving, I allow the December breeze to flow in the room, almost equating the earlier temperature. I then take my phone, cancel my alarm for today, and decide to finally prepare for the day ahead.
* * *
Elian's relatives had been quite too generous and hospitable than expected. Last night, after showing me to the room, his cousin's wife brought to me some clothes to change—some night clothes and some smart casual attires to match for when we leave. Surprisingly, they've been all brand new with tags from famous, if not luxurious, but still expensive labels. And it isn't just one choice for the other; but three sets one can choose from.
For some reasons, I don't know if these clothes are something that his cousin's wife had been keeping to be worn or received that she didn't want to, or the extent of my delusional mind is that it is all done under Elian's orders. But, seriously, there is no chance that the likes of First Officer Elian Basa will dare ask for clothes to be bought for my convenience—though he should be after compromising with me that we'll stop by a store for me to buy some change of overnight clothes.
I wasn't able to use the night clothes. For some reasons, my exhaustion knocks me out at once that I've fallen asleep then enter the realms of my beautiful dreamscape. Hence, I fell asleep still wearing the clothes I've been wearing yesterday; as if I mind at all. However, I am desperate for a change of clothes that I can't disregard choosing one of the possible choices among the set there is.
After fixing myself up and the bed, closing the windows once more and ensuring that I didn't leave anything behind, I head downstairs at once to at least help for the breakfast preparation. I hate being considered a guest, especially when my relation to Elian had been nothing at all but just mere colleagues.
Doing so, I then meet his maternal grandparents, his maternal aunt and his cousin's wife at the kitchen; definitely cooking today's breakfast. They are conversing in a different dialect the same from that of yesterday that I don't know if I am intruding; but failing to hear Elian's name is some assurance to me that they aren't talking about him—and me, I guess—right now. The first one who've noticed me had been his grandfather, who then gently taps Elian's cousin's wife to address me. They, apparently, stop on what they are talking about and what they are doing for a moment to turn at me with beaming smiles and a greeting that I can otherwise consider to be of 'good morning'.
"Good morning po," I greet in return with a nod.
Before I can say that I want to help them with the breakfast preparations, the youngest of them immediately leaves what she is doing and ushers me out of the kitchen, almost dragging me to the dining as she speaks with a light chuckle in her voice, "Bisita ka namin dito, (Y/N), kaya wala ka dapat ibang gawin kung hindi ang maging bisita."
I already learn yesterday that compared to Elian's grandparents and aunt, his cousin's family are quite fluent with Tagalog for me to be able to converse with them. It just so happens that during the family dinner yesterday it prompted them not to because of Elian. But it is too presumptuous of me to ask what it is about that I decide not to do so and just let my curiosity over the matter continue on.
"Medyo nakakahiya na nga ang ituring na bisita. Lalo na naging biglaan lang din na nahatak ako ni Elian dito," I reply.
She giggles before letting me sit on one of the chairs at the dining room. "Medyo weird nga rin noong tumawag si Elian kahapon at sinabi na may kasama siya." She presses a finger against her lips and lowers her voice when she adds, "Secret lang natin ito but grabe... ang demanding niya kahapon."
I blink and my ears perk to whatever secret this is to be shared with me.
"Tumawag siya para talaga sabihin na kasama ka niya, and since wala ka raw dalang damit, sinabihan niya kaagad kami na bumili ng damit na magugustuhan mo. Basta ang sinabi niya lang is almost same ng size ko, at mukhang magaling din naman manghula para talaga maging fit sa iyo 'yong damit. Not to mention na bagay din talaga sa iyo. As in, kung alam mo lang kung saan ang pinakamalapit na mall dito... Tapos video call pa para lang may decision siya kung sa tingin niya ba magugustuhan mo."
"T-Teka lang... Seryoso ba 'yon? I mean... siya 'yong..."
She nods with a knowing smirk. "Hindi lang 'yon. Since alam namin na bibisita siya, so may mga nakahanda na kaming mga pasalubong na ibibigay sa kanya. Kaso sabi niya, dagdagan pa raw. Bilhan din daw siya ng biscocho, barquillos at napoleones. 'Yon pa naman si Elian ay mahilig lamang sa piaya."
Wait... Don't tell me na... talaga ngang si Elian ang lahat ng may pakana nito?
I mean, from the clothes all the way to the delicacies... He made a compromised with me, and in the end, he settled all of it? To the point that I didn't even know when he contacted his relatives for those additional requirements? I doubt that ever since deciding to visit them, he already knew that I'll be with him. In short, he made the last-minute additions when he was sure that we were together. Don't tell me that he did settle everything when I was asleep during the ride?
I flush, making me insecure at once about what is really going on behind that strange mind of his. And what is with all of these actions thrown towards me? Is he really planning on making a statement to everyone that there is something going on between us—when there is really nothing—that led for him to accept this promotional shoot?
My eyes then catch a huge stack of paper bags by one of the chairs, and one of the items that is peeking through it is quite familiar to me, causing me to ask, pointing out at those things, "Uhm, don't tell me... iyon 'yong mga pinabili niya na pasalubong?"
"Ah, yes!" the woman remarks with a chuckle before taking the topmost package—a crispy piaya not just familiar to me, but strangely and weirdly too similar to what I recently just saw—and hands it to me. "Favorite ni Elian. Dinadayo pa talaga namin 'yan sa Bacolod dahil 'yan 'yong original crispy piaya talaga."
The label reads: "Bailon Foods Specialties", with an additional note underneath: "Formerly Varmont Refreshment".
I didn't know what is weirder: the fact that this is the same one that I remember that Capt. Conde had given us a few months ago, or that it is Elian's favorite just as the same as it was César's back in my dreams, or the ultimate notion that the brand might be of different names, but this is the exact version here in my reality of César's favorite indeed.
My mind is processing too many things; all of those at once that I almost act like a robot when I am called by his relatives for a few questions over breakfast and all. And when we bid our goodbyes and my thanks to their hospitality, being back inside the car with Elian for the drive. I can't help stealing glances at him.
What is really going on in that strange head of yours, Elian?
Or rather, looking away from him and then to the view outside, I can't help pondering a much more intriguing question:
What is really going on with me to see that my reality and dreams are starting to overlap?
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A/N: Vote, comment and share! Whatever you do means a lot to me, and I am really wishing for some feedback! Currently logging the last few hours remaining before reaching the 200 hours mark that is included as part of my contract with my flying school, and a part of it is an actual instrument simulated flight to RPLI (Laoag). Didn't have much pictures of flight these past few hours, especially with Laoag due to the instrument flying itself that took much of my mouth and ears with all the reportings than usual. But, either way, I found IR much easier than RNAV (Radio Navigation) itself. A few tidbits of my recent flights after IR include a remaining 2 and a half hours of Visual Flight Rules (and still be logged as IR flight). But... here's Vigan Airport and our aircraft last Monday during our CR break after our trip from Laoag. 😅🫠 (Hello kay capt na init na init kahit 8000' na kami kanina kaya nagbubukas pa ng bintana, at naghihintay makabalik ako para siya naman ang mag-CR break ng 'di kami nagpapatay ng makina, at 'yong nagtatanggal ng headset para mag-airpods at kumakanta at bumibirit na akala mo 'di ko naririnig, at nagsesenyas-senyas lang kami na para kaming pipi sa mga needed altitudes and aircraft configurations...)
A few list of notes to share!
1. "Miga mo?" "Waay pa". Thanks to a friend that I manage to input Hiligaynon (Ilonggo) on this one. The two means "Girlfriend mo?" "Hindi pa". Let's be honest, Elian might be definitely edgy about that "pa".
2. As mentioned from Chapter 12 - Lift, Bailon Foods Specialties and Varmont Refreshment are one and the same, with the latter being the one known during the years before that of World War II. And as I've previously mentioned, too, I am not actually a fun of piaya since I actually don't like the after-taste of the muscovado sugar.
By the way, will be updating the chapters, Creating the world of AH and Timeline of AH's creation, whenever I am able to update it. Flight schedules had been too random that during chapter uploads, recently, I am occupied with flight briefings for the following day or had been partying around here in La Union... 👀
Chapter title: Slip. Slip is another aviation jargon; but almost has the same meaning as that of commonly known of. In aviation, it is an uncoordinated flight wherein there is an excessive rate of turn and bank, which, given it is "uncoordinated", puts pressure in the plane's airframe and gives the pilot and passengers the feeling of their queasy insides turn to that direction; which shouldn't be at all in a coordinated turn. Anyhow, choosing it as a chapter title is all because of overflowing similarities that the Reader figures out between Elian and César, when the story began where they are very different from one another except for their physical aspects.
Follow me on twitter @23meraki for more updates and trivia. ;)
#CFBArtificialHorizon