Akbar shifted from kneeling just inside the door beside Terry until he sat in the doorway, his feet out in the wind and dangling over empty space.
Krista moved in to stand close behind him. MHA Smokies jumped in pairs, one from sitting and one from standing. On some planes sticks could be three or four in a row rushing out the door, but the old DC-3 simply didn’t lend itself to that between the low door and the tail section not far past the door.
Just like always she nudged her boots against Akbar’s butt as if she was going to kick him out early. He kept his hands braced on the inside edge of the doorway, but he barked out, “Don’t even!” as he did every time. Part of their jump ritual, it brought good luck.
Terry stuck his head around the corner of the doorway and looked out past Akbar.
