Flight 1079: The Timer On The Bulkhead, Page 2

lived for this; yes, his friends in flight. Each one so different from the next. Many of them troubled in some way, and most of them with no idea where to turn. Krenshaw had been piloting flight 1079, from New York to L.A. and back, twice a week for thirteen years, always spending three of the six hours of each flight in the cabin. He was known for his interaction with his distressed passengers and made it his duty to get inside their heads, not to pry, but to help in ways that others couldn’t. There was something built into this man that everyone found intriguing. Who knows? Maybe it was because they were eight miles high with no place to run but for some strange reason he captured everyone’s attention.

  “Captain, could you come here, please?” asked the flight attendant.

  He walked to the back of the plane and the two of them disappeared behind the black curtain that separated the passengers from the food trays, drinks, and other airplane stuff.

  They were gone for quite some time. Many of the passengers were glancing in that direction curiously, but nobody questioned his whereabouts, except for a teenage girl seated near the back.

  “Does anyone know where the Captain is?” she asked.

  “He’s still back dare wit dat stewardess broad,” said Steven. “Dey’s probably foolin around, if ya know what I mean.”

  “Why would you even think that Bonker, or whatever your name is?” said the girl.

  “It’s Bumper not Bonker. Get it right,” he said. “Listen to me, little lady. I wasn’t born yestaday. When two adults disappear behind closed doors, or in dis case behind a closed curtain, deys probably knockin off a piece.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” the fat man jeered. “Here comes the Captain now.”

  “OK. So maybe it was a quickie,” Steven said, watching the captain walk out.

  The stewardess poked her head through the curtain, “Hello, everyone, I’m Janine, and I am very sorry for not giving the routine take-off oration that I know you all luuvv to hear. Don’t worry, I promise that I will make it up to you,” she said as she again disappeared behind the curtain.

  “I apologize, folks. Janine did forget a very important part of this flight,” said the Captain.” Now, it is my obligation to give everyone of legal drinking age a free cocktail, including you, Steven. I know you’re only eighteen, but I think we can make an exception tonight.”

  “Whatchu up to, man? Why is it your obligation to give all of us a free drink?”

  “I guess obligation was a wrong choice of words,” said Krenshaw. ”Let me say it this way. It would be my pleasure, to offer all of you a drink….because I want to. Also keep in mind, it is almost the start of a new year for all of us, so drink up and enjoy.”

  Janine emerged from behind the drape, strutting like an Atlantic City Show Girl to a bluesy cover version of Steve Miller’s ‘Fly Like an Eagle,’ playing at full volume over the plane’s high fidelity sound system. She was pushing an overloaded refreshment cart and offering up each passenger his or her drink of choice. Most of the crowd seemed to be enjoying the festivities except for an elderly couple sitting in 10A and 10B.

  “Turn that crap down, Krenshaw. My wife is trying to catch some shuteye.”

  “Don’t turn it down,” said a woman that was seated behind the couple. “Captain, do you think you can make this old timer understand that we’re trying to have some fun?”

  “Did you hear that?” Krenshaw said, “They just want to have fun, and that’s why I’m here. This can be a special night for everyone if we all relax and let it happen.”

  “Special night, my frickin ass,” the old man said loud enough to be heard over the music. “I’ve seen these so called sky high parties time after time. There are always a few witless passengers that over-do it. Mark my words, by the end of the flight someone will get into a fight because they got puked on, or for trying to screw another man’s wife or maybe for no damn reason whatsoever, but it always happens. Then the police will be at the gate. They’ll cart off whomever they feel needs to be carted off and if you look at them the wrong way, it could be you. By the way, the name’s Monroe, and sleeping beauty here is Beatrice my lovely bride. Been together for thirty-seven wonderful years.”

  “Aren’t you over exaggerating about the fights and police?” said the captain.

  “Hell no Mac, I’ve been on enough of your flights to know when trouble is coming our way. That’s when I sit back and watch from outside your little circle. Everyone go right ahead and submit to his nonsense. You’ll all see that I was right when it’s over. Then I can say, I told you so.”

  “Lighten up, Monroe,” said the woman, now standing in the aisle, “we understand, and we expect an ‘I told you so’ if something goes wrong, but for now we are all going to live for the moment. Life is short so enjoy it while you can.”

  Monroe’s forehead wrinkled as he stared at the intoxicated woman. He watched the pink liquid rapidly disappear from the tall glass she was holding. Her flushed cheeks caved in as she sucked the last few drops through the chewed up end of the straw.

  “Don’t worry, lady,” Monroe said, “my wife and I enjoy life, but we enjoy it on the ground, in the right places and I must say, with the right people.”

  Monroe and Beatrice were regulars on Krenshaw’s flights. Twice a month they flew to LA to visit their daughter Elena, who had been diagnosed with stage four cancer. The doctor had given her only six months to live, but she’s been beating the odds for the past year and a half. The captain met Elena last year on the New Year’s flight, and took a special liking to the three of them after hearing her story.

  Krenshaw bent down and whispered in Monroe’s ear. “Listen to me, my friend. We have known each other for almost two years now, and you have always been a cranky old son of a bitch. Why don’t you try to have a good time up here, for a change? You should smile once in a while. It’s good for you, it’s good for your wife and most of all, it’s good for Elena. Like I told her when I met her last year, she is going to outlive you if you don’t change your attitude, or maybe even if you do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean, Mac?”

  “It means, take my advice and enjoy the rest of the party,” Krenshaw said.

  The captain didn’t want to get harsh with Monroe, but he had to, and he knew that talking about Elena touched a soft spot in the old man’s heart. Monroe turned away, slipped his arm around Beatrice and softly kissed her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at her husband. “I love you,” she said.

  A tender smile appeared on Monroe’s face “I love you too, baby,”

  Krenshaw noticed that the young girl seated in the back had been staring at him.

  “Janine,” he said, “Grab me a few snacks and some juice please.” As he got closer to the girl he could see that she was crying. He offered her the juice.

  “Are you OK, dear?” he said.

  “I don’t know sir,” the girl responded. “I just want all of this to be over.”

  “What do you mean? You want all of what to be over?”

  “Look at me Captain,” she said, “what do you see?”

  “I see a very beautiful young girl, with a bright future ahead of her.”

  “Look again. Do you know how old I am?”

  “You look to be about sixteen years old,” he said, “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Isabel and I’m fifteen. I’m also pregnant, and I feel like don’t have anything to live for anymore.”

  “What are you taking about? If you’re pregnant, then you have a lot to live for.”

  “Not really. The father is twenty seven years old, and when he found out I was carrying his baby, he disappeared.”

  “Did you tell the police?”

  “No,” she said, “I don’t want him to get in trouble. He never hurt me. In fact, he always treated me very well. I just want him to be a good daddy. I guess he got scared. I don’t blame him, I’m scared too.”

  “Where are you going now? Do you have family in LA?”

  “N
o, but his family lives there. Maybe they can help me find him and talk some sense into him. They don’t even know I’m coming. In fact they don’t know I’m pregnant, unless he told them,” she said. “Oh yeah, captain, one more thing. It’s a boy.”

  He reached behind the curtain, grabbed a small pack of tissues and handed it to her. “Come on Isabel. Wipe those tears and go with Janine. I want you in the cockpit with Frank, my co-pilot. Maybe he can teach you how to land this thing.”

  A smile appeared on the girl’s pert lips. “Thank you, Captain,” she said.

  “Janine, take Isabel to the front, please. Get her something good to eat and make her feel comfortable. Stay with her for a while, and tell Frank that I will be there very shortly.

  Janine took Isabel’s hand. “Will do, captain,” she said.

  “One more thing, Janine,” the captain added. “Call LA International and have a car waiting for Isabel. We are going to do whatever we can to find her baby’s daddy.”

  “Cap’n, why-d-ya do whatchu do?” Steven asked.

  “I’m not really sure. I guess it’s because I’ve had such a difficult life, and I like it when I see others