Free Lucky T by Kate Brian

Wouldn't that inspire all pilots to do whatever they could to make those first five minutes as heart-attack free as possible?
    It didn't help, of course, that they had stuck her in aisle 13. Planes shouldn't even have an aisle 13. But since they clearly had to have one, then there should be some rule on the books that all owed superstitious people to automatically switch seats with someone else. As it was, no one Carrie had asked had wanted to move. Now all she needed was for a flight attendant to kil a stowaway ladybug and Carrie would officially flip out.
    Finally the plane seemed to level out and Carrie loosened her grip on the rabbit's foot and looked down at her notebook again. She had been working on a game plan for finding her T-shirt. Unfortunately, she didn't have much to go on. She still had the receipt number for the original package Celia had sent out to Help India, and she had compiled a list of women's shelters from the Web. Unfortunately, the list was about a mile long. So Carrie's course of action upon reaching Calcutta would be to go to the Help India headquarters and find out if they gave to specific shelters. Maybe she could narrow the list down a bit from there.
    "I can't believe you're coming to India to find a shirt," Dor-mean said with a sneer.
    "I can't believe how much food is stuck in your braces," Carrie replied.
    "Shut up," Dor-mean spat.
    "No, you shut up," Carrie replied.
    "Listen, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into," Dor-mean said with an unappealing snort. "It's not like we're staying at some Hilton where everybody speaks English and waits on you hand and foot."
    "I know," Carrie said. "I'm not expecting a four-star hotel." Maybe two, two and a half, she thought.
    "That's surprising. I'm amazed that you didn't wuss out the minute you realized you'd actually have to work on this trip."
    Carrie was offended to the core. "Hey, I'm up to whatever anyone asks me to do. So don't you worry about it, okay?"
    "Whatever you say," Dor-mean said, eyeing her.
    "Well, it's not like we're not going to have any free time. They're not going to have us toiling away twenty-four/seven, right?" Carrie said.
    "Do you mind? I'm trying to read," Dor-mean huffed, and buried her nose in another Let's-Go-India-like tour book.
    "Fine," Carrie said, sitting back in her seat, thinking about how everyone at home was at the pool soaking up harmful UV rays. "As long as I have a little time to get some kind of tan, I'll be okay."
    Dor-mean snorted again into her hand. "Um, I don't think you'll be getting a tan," she said.
    "Why not? Aren't we going to be outside working all the time?"
    "Yeah, but it's monsoon- season in Calcutta," Dormean said in her usual know-it-al tone of voice. "There's not gonna be much sun, Jockstrap." Then she placed the headphones on her Discman over her ears and hit play. The volume was cranked up so loud, Carrie could hear every word.
    "The PhAAAAAAAAntom of the Op-er-a is there! Inside your mind!"
    Carrie tucked her rabbit's foot into her pocket and opened the guidebook she had purchased at the London airport. As her wretched neighbor closed her eyes with a blissful smile, Carrie propped her tiny pillow between her head and the wall. She turned the book to the section on Calcutta ("recently renamed Kolkata," it read at the top) and curled up in as tight a ball as possible. At least she hadn't thought about the fact that she was on a plane for the past five minutes. If she could just read for a while until she fell asleep, she would be out for a few hours. And if she was lucky, she would miss three shows'
    worth of music and maybe a few turbulence pockets as wel . Then when she woke up, she would be that much closer to her destination. That much closer to her lucky T.
    And once you get your T-shirt back, everything will be fine, Carrie thought as Dor-mean started to whisper- sing along to the song. Good things will start happening again and you'll be the lucky Carrie you once