Chapter 15

[seymoure]

Chapter 15

“I Wish I Was Somewhere Else”

Earl Monday had been a pilot for a third of his adult life. He had flown to almost every major airport in the world.

When he got on Flight 481 he was almost bored. This was a long flight from New York to London. He looked forward to the end of the flight, as it would lead to his having a three day vacation in one of his favorite cities. He had no idea what was ahead.

His crew was the best, and there was no single thing that stood out.

He had gotten into this business because of a childhood wish. When he was a kid he was constantly thinking “I wish I was somewhere else.”

He joined the Navy to travel, and then he joined the force's flight school. He went straight from jump jets to passenger planes. He went everywhere he could, and was always looking for somewhere he had never been.

Now that desire was waning just a bit. He had been so many places, seen so much, that now one place seemed not that different than somewhere else he had been.

They say you hit middle age when you cannot meet someone who doesn’t remind you of someone. Earl had reached the point where no place he went didn’t remind him of someplace he had been. He was okay with that. He began to feel that he had reached the point he had always wanted to reach as a boy. There were no big mysteries out there, there was nothing major he felt he was missing.

That was a reassuring place to be.

As he strapped himself in the felt a true sense of fulfillment.

He didn’t know what was coming.

That’s probably best.

When they hit the 15 minutes in flight, the changes began to happen.

The control panels went wild. Nothing responded to anyone in the cockpit. The airship reacted like it had entered a hurricane, flipping, dropping, and whipping around wildly. The radio was useless. Earl didn’t panic, he was too well trained for that. But
there was little he could do.

Then the “things” appeared in the cockpit.

You could call them “ghosts” or “spirits” or whatever you wanted to and Earl would not argue the point.

The things screamed in his face, and were intangible enough for the pilot’s fist to pass through them. The only thing he noticed was that his hand got icy cold.

His heart came into his throat. He knew he was about to die and the only thing he could think of was why? None of this made sense.

They plane flew into a black cloud and all the lights (including those of the panels) went out. A second later, Earl and the crew went to sleep.

When they woke up the radio was buzzing.

He looked around and everyone else seemed to be just coming out of it like he was. He picked up the radio.

“Flight 481! You’ve dropped off of radar! Flight 481! Respond.” Was the controller in New York.

Earl picked up the mike and said, “This is 481, we had a bit of trouble here, but we seem to be okay now.”

“481, we’re picking you up, but you are 200 miles to the south. Is this Earl?” The controller asked.

“Yeah, and we’re getting back on our path. I have no explanation about the reason for the variation. Just chalk it up to . . . gremlins.”

“Okay Earl, as long as you guys are alright. We’ll keep the words UFO out of the report.”

There was an uneasy laugh between the two men.

Everyone proceeded to get back into the rythym of work. It seemed no one wanted to talk about it, and within hours it seemed almost forgotten.

When the wheels hit the tarmac, Earl drew a deep breath.

For once he did not wish to be elsewhere.

© 2005 by C. Wayne Owens