Surviving Flight 1432

by Bob Brill

Part 1 appears
in this issue.

conclusion

The captain appeared in the doorway of the cockpit. “What’s going on here?”

“A bit of panic has broken out, Sir. Several passengers have left the plane. Also Miss Travers, the new flight attendant.”

“I see. Security has alerted me that some woman has been stirring up trouble out in the boarding area. I’ll quiet them down.” He returned to the cockpit and closed the door. A moment later his voice was heard over the loudspeaker system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Jenkins speaking. Welcome aboard Flight 1432 flying non-stop to St. Louis. There have been some rumors to the effect that the plane is not safe. I assure you that this aircraft has been thoroughly checked and is ready for flight. Anyone who does not wish to travel with us today is free to leave. Please remember that there is a one hundred dollar penalty for changing your reservation, but don’t let that stop you if you have any qualms about flying with us today. We’re expecting beautiful weather all the way to St. Louis. Our flying time today will be three hours and fifty minutes. The weather in St. Louis is a balmy 76 degrees. Sit back, relax and enjoy the flight and thank you for choosing Sky America Airlines.”

Then the captain ordered the flight attendants to open the door in case any more passengers decided to leave.

When Oscar left the plane he was right behind Curtis and Aunt Ginger. He held her bag out to her, saying, “Don’t try to reboard. You’ll be better off waiting for another flight.”

“Thank you for your help,” she said, taking the bag from him, “but we’re going right back on that plane.” She turned and dragged Curtis behind her. Once more the sound of the child’s screaming filled the air.

The boarding agent stepped into the doorway and blocked their attempt to board. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’ve been instructed to prevent you from reboarding the plane. The screaming has upset the passengers. Some of them have left the plane.”

Oscar took the distraught woman by the arm and led her to a seat. “Look what you’ve done,” she cried at Curtis who had ceased his screaming. “You’ve made us miss the flight.”

“I assure you, madam,” said Oscar, “it’s all for the best.”

The young man clutching his backpack to his chest approached Oscar and said, “I hope you know what you were talking about.”

“I don’t,” replied Oscar. “It’s just a hunch, but I acted on it and so apparently did you. Actually I hope I’m wrong about this.”

Laura Battaglia and Violet stood staring at Oscar and the little knot of people clustered at the gate. Laura’s heart was beating rapidly. She squeezed Violet’s hand. “Violet,” she said, “he’s back. He came back.”

As soon as the elderly couple returned to the boarding area, they set down their carry-on luggage. The old man drew his wife close and they embraced.

“Oh sweet stars above,” said Laura. “Look how many came off the plane.”

The flight attendant who had jumped ship walked up to Oscar in tears. “You,” she cried. “What made me listen to you? I’m going to lose my job.”

“Maybe,” said Oscar, “you just saved your life. In any case, your life lies before you, full of endless possibilities. You’ll get another job, maybe even a better one.”

The girl stared at Oscar with open wonder, the tears still streaming down her face. “Who are you? You’ve totally changed my life.”

“Good luck. Please excuse me. I have to do something now that is going to change my own life. “He turned in Laura’s direction and greeted her with a broad radiant smile. He came striding quickly to her side. “You convinced me,” he said. “Well, not exactly you alone. I couldn’t stand the screaming and then I thought maybe the kid was onto something, you know, like you, precognition of disaster. But the real reason I came back is I had to see you again.”

Laura flung her arms around him. He welcomed her into his arms. “I’m so glad you came back,” she said through her tears. In the background they could hear Aunt Ginger still scolding Curtis, who kept his peace, ignoring his aunt and content with his victory.

No more passengers came off the plane. Looking through the large windows, Laura noticed that the plane was backing away from the terminal. She said a silent prayer for the safety of the auraless souls aboard.

At that moment a young man ran into the boarding area with a carry-on in each hand. He was out of breath and stopped to lean against a pillar. “I’m too late, aren’t I?”

“Not at all,” replied Oscar over Laura’s shoulder. “You’re just in time to join the party.”

“Flight 1432, I mean. It’s left, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, it’s gone on to its destiny.”

“Oh hell. Oh damn.”

Laura turned to him. “You have just saved your life. That’s what all of us here have done, one way or another. So sit down and join us. What’s your name?”

“My name is Tyler. What’s going on here?”

Laura made a quick count. “Ten people, Tyler. Ten people who did not take Flight 1432. Seven of them were actually on the plane and got off. Ten people whose lives have taken a turning. And you’re one of them.”

An hour later nine of the ten refugees from Flight 1432 were seated in the same boarding area, having established standby status for Flight 1485, the next available flight for St. Louis. They were waiting rather wearily to learn which of them, if any, would be taking that flight. None of them had been able to retrieve their checked luggage. They were assured that their bags would be waiting for them in St. Louis when they arrived, with the unspoken proviso that the plane carrying their luggage would make it to St. Louis in one piece.

The one missing refugee, Carol Travers, the flight attendant who had deserted her post, booked a flight for Hawaii, using her free travel privilege while she could still do so. She had friends in Maui and there she planned to get drunk and try to sort out her options for going on with her life. Having plenty of time before her flight, she inquired where the others had gone and stopped in at the gate where they were waiting. She wanted to say a few words to Oscar, who had assumed in her mind a mythic significance as an agent of fate.

She looked at Oscar and said, “I don’t know whether to thank you or punch you in the nose. I’m all mixed up about this. I suppose I wasn’t really cut out for a career in flying, but it still grabs me and it’s hard to let it go.”

Oscar replied, “You have a lot of vitality. Just be glad you’re alive. Take your time thinking it through. If you do most of your thinking with your heart you’ll make the right choices. I wish you a happy and successful life.”

One of the airport people-movers pulled up and four security guards climbed out and approached them. “There she is,” said one of them. It was the guard Laura had first encountered when she attempted to ground the flight. “Laura Battaglia?” a second one inquired.

“Oh my God,” cried Laura. “The plane has crashed, hasn’t it?”

“Please come with us,” the guard replied.

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“This is not the place to discuss it. Please step into the cart.”

“Not till you tell me what happened.”

Oscar rose and approached the guard. “If the plane has crashed, everyone in this group has a right to know. We all gave up our seats on that plane because we believed it to be unsafe.”

“Then you’d all better come with us.”

“Then it’s true,” said Laura. “The plane went down.”

“Yes,” said the guard. “It’s true.”

The color drained from Carol Travers’ face and she fainted. One of the guards caught her as she fell.

The old couple hugged each other, then carefully lowered themselves to their knees to pray.

Laura burst into tears and Oscar put his arms around her and held her close to his chest.

Aunt Ginger looked at Curtis in amazement, then picked him up, held him tight, and asked for his forgiveness.

Tyler went up to Violet and said, “Do you mind if I hug you? I just need to hug somebody right now.”

“Me too,” she replied and put her arms around him.

The young man who left the plane with his backpack in his arms just sat there, too stunned to move. He kept saying over and over to himself, “Oh my God. Oh my God.” That was as close to praying as he ever came.

The ten survivors were escorted into a comfortable conference room where they were cut off from the busy anxious emanations of the airport with its announcements and bustle, people running for planes, the mingled aroma of boredom and anxiety arising from the hundreds of people who were neither at home nor at their destinations, but crossing through this nexus from every point of the compass. Here in the conference room a subterranean serenity prevailed.

Two men in suits entered the room and took seats at one end of the long conference table. One was dapper, with slicked-back dark hair covering the beginning of a bald spot, an immaculately clean suit, freshly shined shoes. He looked unharried, comfortable, as though he got up each morning confident that he could handle his workload for the day. He introduced himself as Chief of Security.

The other man said nothing. He was for the moment an enigma. The flesh of his face sagged below his eyes, around his jowls, and beneath his chin, giving him a tired look that was belied by his erect posture and alert expression. He could have been anything from a ventriloquist to an executioner.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the security chief began. “Coffee and doughnuts will be served as soon as the cart arrives. I don’t plan to detain you for long. I know that you have had a trying day so far and I’ve been informed that you are on standby status for a flight. I beg you not to be anxious on that account. I have asked the staff of that flight to give you preferential treatment in your absence and to hold the flight till you can be returned to the gate. There may not be room for all of you on that flight, but we will make a special effort to see that all of you reach your destinations as soon as possible.”

The ten survivors visibly relaxed. Not till that moment did any of them realize how tense they had been, uncertain as they were of how the security staff would treat them. The door opened and a secretary entered with the coffee cart.

“This is not about terrorism,” continued the security chief. “At least at this point we don’t think so. What happened was that about half an hour into the flight a private plane which was off course collided with Flight 1432. So far it looks like an accident, but if this was the work of terrorists, they were not aboard Flight 1432 but were operating the small craft.

“You are not going to be interrogated. From what we know so far it would absurd to think that any of you were trying to sabotage the plane. On the contrary, Ms. Battaglia tried to have the flight grounded and failing that managed to convince others of you to abandon the flight. I congratulate you all on surviving this experience. That includes you, Miss Travers. Although you were derelict in your duty, clearly events have shown that you made a wise decision.”

Coffee and doughnuts were quietly distributed.

“After you have finished your refreshments, the guards will drive you back to your gate to await your flight. In the meantime, if I might have a word with you in private, Ms. Battaglia? I’d like you to meet the gentleman on my left.”

When Laura showed up at the gate, she was smiling, especially with her eyes, and she glided with a dancer’s grace up to Oscar.

“What did he say to you?” asked Oscar. “And who was that guy with the bags under his eyes?”

“The president of Sky America Airlines. He offered me a job as official psychic in charge of predicting plane crashes. I can hardly believe it. They’ve been researching the idea for some time, but so far without success.”

“That’s wonderful news. They should have success now that they’ve got the right person to guide them.”

In a little while Laura and Oscar, seated side by side, held hands as the plane taxied down the runway for takeoff. “I trust,” said Oscar, “that everyone aboard this plane has bright sparkling auras?”

“The best,” replied Laura. “Except for two that I’ve noticed. In any large group of people you’ll come across a few who are dying.” The plane gathered speed and took to the air. “What I’m concerned about now,” she continued, “is that with my suitcase lost I have nothing to wear to the wedding.”

“You’re going to St. Louis for a wedding?”

“Yes.”

“So am I. It wouldn’t by any chance by the Hafner-Schmidt wedding?”

“Oh, but it is. Mary Hafner is an old friend of mine.”

“Then we would have met anyway, even if we had come on separate flights. I’m an old friend of Joe Schmidt. We can enjoy being the worst-dressed guests at the wedding.”

“I’d like to dance with you at the wedding,” said Laura.

“Do you tango?”

“Not really well.”

“I’ll teach you. I’m a tango instructor. Did I tell you I grew up in Argentina? I came to the U.S. because there are too many tango teachers in Argentina. Here I’m in great demand.”

“It seems like suddenly I’m in demand too. I’m still trying to grasp the idea of being offered a job with the airline. If they could put a psychic or two in every airport, well, the expense might put them right out of business. But it would certainly help a lot of unemployed psychics. I know quite a few. And it might even save some lives and some airplanes and garner them some good publicity. Hey, it might even pay off for them.”

Across the aisle Tyler and Violet were kissing. “Look at those two kids,” said Laura. “They know they’ve been spared and they’re going right for the important stuff.”

“I feel the same way,” said Oscar. “Let’s waste no more time on idle chitchat.” He leaned closer.

Laura looked into his face and whispered, “Good idea, Oscar.” She leaned toward him. They reached out for each other and were soon doing the tango with their lips.

to Challenge 371...