One Way Flight to Venice

“I can do this,” I heard him mutter. His white knuckles were firmly intertwined with the metal handle of the suitcase. He was a short, stout man with fiery red patches of straw on his speckled head. His emerald eyes were buried beneath pools of pain, exhaustion and agony. I had watched him empty his savings account. He had rolled the small wad of green paper and slid it into the tattered pocket of his vest. “Please, wait for us!” he tried to call, his vocal chords constricted by the ragged, staggered breathing. The suitcase hung in his calloused hand, swinging back and forth slightly. “Thank you,” he gasped, his thick Irish accent not masked by his shortness of breath.
“Mr. O’Boyle, the plane should be taking off in a few moments. Please escort your daughter to your seats,” the flight attendant told him. I looked up at the flight attendant, he was wearing pressed navy blue slacks which hung from his waist, a pressed white collared shirt and a yellow tie, the colors of the airline. “Oh, and watch your step,” he called after us. We were halfway down the corridor that connected to the plane.
“Excuse us,” my father pleaded, pushing his way gently though the isle which was full of women holding children and unruly kids. “This is us,” he muttered, swinging into three seats. There was a woman in the window seat, she was engrossed in a book, there were extravagant pictures of elaborate dishes of food on the cover. “Hello, I’m Patrick O’Boyle, this is my daughter Erin,” I heard him introduce. I smiled to the young woman and settled into the middle seat, between her and my father, for the long flight to Italy.
“Hello,” she greeted, her voice warm and soothing, like the voice of a princess in a move. “I’m Natalie, as you can probably tell, I’m a culinary student at Oberlin College,” she responded, shaking my father’s hand. “What’s got you flying to Italy at this time of night?” The subject had finally come out. A touchy subject for both my father and me. I focused on the book in my hands, willing the tears in my eyes not to fall. Slowly they began to trickle down my cheeks, staining the skin. I glanced at my father, his eyes were focused on a fixed spot in front of him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Natalie said.
“No, it’s alright,” my father dismissed her withdrawal of the question, his voice attempting to stay strong. “We’re going back to my wife’s hometown for her funeral.” The pain in my father’s voice caused the woman’s face to scrunch up in discomfort and sympathy, like she had just seen a homeless child sitting on the street.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for choosing us for your long flight to Venice, Italy. Our expected air time is ten hours and forty-five minutes. Please be aware of all the necessary precautions, including the warning lights above all of your seats as we are expecting a bit of turbulence…” when the pilot’s smooth voice echoed over the heads of all the passengers I thought of him more as a slick mob boss than a commercial flight pilot.
“There was no sign-” a voice interrupted the pilot. The indifference between the two people controlling the plane sent up a red flag in the minds of passengers throughout the plane.
“Please enjoy your flight and Merry Christmas,” he said, the click of the system indicated that the message from the front of the plane was complete. The lights dimmed and the flash of a film began as the clicks of a projector could be heard echoing off of the metal shell of the container.
“Is this your first time on a plane?” the woman’s delicate voice sang. I was so enthralled with the movie I couldn’t care less what was going on around me.
“It is. It’s a whole new experience for me,” he responded in his thick Irish tongue. “When I immigrated to America right before we entered this war, I was poor and I traveled over on a boat,” he shrugged. The woman was so entertained by my father’s story that she put the cookbook she was reading down on her lap.
“Luckily for you, these flights have improved greatly. These films are new, they weren’t here the last time I flew,”
“You fly a lot?”
“I’m trying to help rebuild the culinary institute in Venice. I’m afraid the combat from the war took a heavy toll of the country of cooking,” she said, a slight laugh coming off of her lips. The jazzy swing in the film had me tapping my foot to the beat. A calm silence fell over our triplet of seats. About forty five minutes into the flight I was watching my father, his eyes were sunken and full of pain. He had not lived an easy life, this latest tragedy did not help.
“Go back to sleep sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing my head slightly. He stood and shuffled out of the row into the narrow aisle. I allowed my eyes to drift closed, the soothing sound of the jazz music filling my ears and lulling me to sleep. “…it was in the sink,” I could hear my father saying in a hushed, yet strained voice.
“What do you think we should do?” Natalie asked, her voice just flowing out of her mouth. “There’s a flight attendant we could tell,” she said, I shifted in my seat, showing them that I was awake. My father had the preconceived notion that I was still a small child. Granted, I still am only 11 but he treats me like an infant. “Excuse me, sir?” she called, finding the nearest flight attendant a man. “This man has some information that he’d like to share,” the same flight attendant that had let us on the plane was back, his uniform still pressed and creased.
“What can I do for you?” the man asked. He had a rather feminine voice, high pitched and well spoken. My father stood up and walked towards the small kitchenette, Natalie had gone back to reading her cookbook, leaving me all by myself. I stood up and followed my father. “You can’t joke about this sir, this is a serious matter. I have no evidence that what you are telling me is true, but we are taught to take the passengers word. Where did you find it?” I was standing behind a metal card, ice and cups were scattered all over the top of the cart. I could not see my father, just the calm movements of the steward. When their shadows disappeared I followed, my curiosity raging.
“Just through there,” my father’s thick voice stuttered. The steward nodded and opened the door, peeking his head into the small bathroom. Within moments he retreated, his face pale and his eyes the size of saucers. I scurried back to my seat as my father and the steward turned towards my hiding place. My father was shortly following me and walking towards the cockpit. It was a small plane, I could see from the back, where the bathrooms are to the front, where the cockpit is. There were maybe 50 passengers on the plane, not many people therefore it was a small plane.
“Captain, there’s a man out here who’d like to speak with you,” the steward said through the thin metal door that kept the pilots hidden. There was no response, at least, none that I could hear. “Well, I’m afraid that we’re going to have to come back, our pilot seems to be ignoring us,” the steward said. “I’m Todd, by the way,” he added, following my father back to the seats.
“I’m Patrick O’ Boyle, this is my daughter Erin,” he introduced. I smiled politely at this man, he seemed friendly. “Erin, sweetie listen to me. I need you to stick with Natalie if I’m not with you, alright?” I nodded, looking back at the brunette behind me.
“Daddy, what’s going on?” I asked, he was acting strangely. I watched as my father’s eyes looked from my blue eyes to the floor and back again. There was something wrong, something bad.
“Sweetie, somebody did something that is not very good. I promise you that you will be fine, alright. No matter what, just stay with Natalie,” he said, his eyes leaving mine and looking at Natalie’s with the mention of her name. “I’m going to go talk to some people and then I’ll be back.” I watched my father walk away. The next minutes hours he was here and there, often times his back gesturing towards the bathrooms. “Do you think I can talk to some of the passengers, I noticed a few things on it that I could identify people with?” he asked, Todd nodded and my father walked back towards the back of the plane. On his way back there something caught his eye, a ripped piece of paper was crumpled up on the floor by the bathroom door. He leaned down and picked it up, opening it a recipe for apple crumb cake on the page.
“Excuse me,” the pilot muttered, walking out of one of the bathrooms in the back of the plane. My father must have given him a questioning glance because he responded. “Everyone needs a break, right?” My father nodded, shrugging off the odd occurrence and turning back towards the triplet of seats where Natalie and I were waiting for time to pass. The film had ended, most of the other passengers were asleep and unaware of the so called ‘dangerous’ situation that we were encountering.
“Patrick, you’re back that quickly?” Natalie asked, more as a question than a statement, her voice came out nervous and unaware. “Did you figure it out?” My father’s blue eyes were blank, like steel, cold and unreadable. “What?”
“I found this,” he said, holding up the paper in front of her, “right outside the door to the bathroom. How did it get there?” my father interrogated. Natalie and I had been playing tic-tack-toe on an napkin.
“Are you asking me if I did this?” she asked, contempt filling her sweet voice. “How dare you!” she hissed. “I’m on your side here. I’m the one babysitting while you are gallivanting around here like one of the Hardy Boys,” her tone had switched from friendly and caring to defensive and malicious.
“Alright, alright!” my father breathed. “Fine, I apologize. I just did not expect to see that sitting there and when I did I became suspicious and angry,” he admitted, turning back around and heading back to the back of the plane. Every time that he went back there he would reemerge with something different. The first time he came out and was holding a patch the writing was entirely German. “Excuse me?” he asked a woman who looked to be in her mid thirties. She looked up at him with a puzzled look on her face. “Can you identify this?” he questioned.
“Entschuldigung Sie bitte?” she said, my father’s eyes widened. He couldn’t understand what she was saying, she probably couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“Is this yours?” he asked her again, he now knew that it was most likely hers, but she couldn’t identify it and she couldn’t communicate with him. “Thank you, have a good night,” he said as he turned to walk away. The German woman looked after him, a confused look on his face.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seat,” the pilot’s voice rang out. “We’re experiencing some of the mentioned turbulence. Please remain in your seats until further notice,” the pilot finished. Todd and Natalie were sitting with me, we had reverted to hangman, tic-tack-toe hand grown tiresome.
“What was that about?” Natalie asked Todd. He shrugged and stood up when my father came back.
“All I know is that the dispute you heard earlier, over the PA system, between the pilot and the co-pilot is rare. Normally they don’t argue. But for now I should head back to my station,” he said turning to walk away. I had watched my father scoot around the plane for the last three quarters of an hour and there was still no details on the ‘horrible situation’.
“Daddy, did you find the bad guy?” I asked, my head drifting backwards, leaning against the seat, my eyes lulling shut for the second time.
“Just get some sleep Erin,” he said, kissing the top of my head. Just as the pilot said there was enough turbulence to shake the plane. The plane shook and rattled in the air, tossing and turning. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, walking towards the back of the plane. Todd was standing at the bathroom door where he and my father had been earlier. “What are you doing?” my father asked him. He jumped slightly at the sound of my father’s voice. “What are you doing?” he repeated.
“I was just making sure that nothing was going awry, after that last batch of turbulence I wasn’t sure.” My father nodded and walked into the bathroom where they had been talking. “What? What’s wrong?” Todd stuttered when my father came out of the bathroom.
“We have 10 minutes,” my father stammered, the panic could be seen on his face from a mile away. “We need to alert the pilot and figure out how to land,” my father said, walking quickly back towards us. “We’re in trouble,” he muttered, following Todd up towards the cockpit for the second time. They were both breathing shallowly, they had worry and panic in their eyes. “The bomb was held together with a navy lanyard,” he mentioned.
“The pilot was a WWII Naval Pilot,” Todd mentioned as they finally hit the door of the cockpit. “Do you think he’s behind it?” My father shrugged and knocked on the cockpit.
“Sir, please open the door, we have important information for you,” he said, pounding on the cockpit door. The pilot’s voice could be heard from behind the door.
“What, that there’s a bomb on the plane?” he asked, a sadistic satanic voice. “Yeah, I noticed,” he continued. “Unfortunately, there’s nowhere we can land. I’m afraid we’re stuck up here.” The tension that was building between the pilot and my father was thicker than blood. Natalie was still in the seat with me but her attention was at the front of the plane.
“You see, that doesn’t work for me,” Todd said, pulling a kitchen knife from the kitchenette area and beginning to pick the small lock on the door. When the door finally swung open the pilot could be seen with a sadistic smile on him face. “Why’d you do it?”
“Let’s see, when I was discharged from the military I thought my days flying were over. That’s when I concocted this brilliant plan. I could fly again and get back at the people who had me discharged,” he sneered.
“And your idea of that is to kill innocent people?!” my father burst. The pilot shrugged. “Please, just land the plane. My daughter’s on board,” he pleaded.
“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid I cannot do that,” he said. Todd and my father both rolled their eyes, jointly they overtook the pilot. The headline in the newspaper the next day would read Pilot overtaken by Irish Immigrant and Rebellious Homosexual. The pilot and Todd were fighting which would allow my dad to land the plane.
“I’ll be right back Erin,” Natalie said from next to me. I nodded and she walked towards the back of the plane. What’s going on? I thought to myself. Natalie came racing out of the back. “Patrick, we only have a minute and a half!” Natalie screamed towards the front of the plane. We could hear a struggle and soon enough the plane was diving forward.
“Land the plane and we won’t tell the police we know who caused this whole incident,” Todd bargained, the pilot mulled it over. “Alright, we don’t have all day!” he pushed. The pilot took the seat and made a steep dive.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have an emergency. When we land please find the nearest exit and immediately make your way off the plane. Once you’re off the plane get as far away as possible! I repeat, we have an emergency situation!” my father’s voice echoed out of the PA system. Passengers were panicking and awaking in fear. Frantic mutterings could be heard from every direction.
“No matter what, just stay with Natalie,” that’s what my father had told me. Natalie was on my right side, looking around in sheer panic. She grabbed my hand and held on tightly. She wasn’t going to let go. She was looking at her watch every other second. The plane jolted forward as the it landed in a deserted field. There was no telling what country we were in, we were lucky to land somewhere besides the water. “Stay with me, alright Erin?” I nodded, looking up at the young college student with a smile. Passengers began to file off of the plane in everything but an orderly manner. Everyone was off the plane, the timer was still ticking and the anxiety was running high. The German woman came running by. Her loud voice reaching the ears of many.
“Wir haben einen Bombenalarm!” she was chanting. Not understanding a word of what she was saying, most people ignored her. My mind was in one place. I could not find my father and I had no idea what was going on inside the plane. Before I could comprehend another thought the plane exploded.
“Daddy!” I shouted, tears instantly springing to my eyes. Natalie kneeled down to my height and held me close, not worried that my tears were staining her sweater. There was snow lightly falling, giving the area an eerie glow, a mix of fire and ice. “Daddy,” I cried weakly. “Daddy.”
“Erin!” a voice called, I looked up, wiping tears away from my cobalt eyes. “Erin!” the voice called again. I knew that voice. That was the voice of my father. I couldn’t see him, the flames from the explosion were blinding, the smoke was thick and made it hard to breathe and see. “Erin, thank God you’re alright!” he sighed, pulling me tightly into his arms. “Thank you,” he told Natalie.
“Where is he?” Natalie asked, referencing the man who caused a horrible night.
“He and Todd were still in the plane when I left. I don’t know what happened to them,” he said. Just as the words finished coming out of his mouth Todd limped towards us.
“We don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he said, sitting down on the icy ground, his pressed uniform wrinkled and charred. “He died in the fire.” I felt like I should feel sad about a mans death, but somehow I didn’t, he was a bad person who wanted most us all to be dead. “This is a new way of celebrating Christmas.”