Final Boarding of Flight 702

Frank leaned against the cement column and closed his eyes as he replayed the dream. Actually, it wasn’t so much a dream as something, well, more. Dreams are blurry, disconnected and bizarre. This was vivid and concrete as if he had witnessed it in real life.

It started exactly where he was now, waiting at gate A12 and watching the mechanics on the tarmac as they checked over the plane. The dream was detailed right down to the zig-zag sweater of the old lady that sat nearby and the clock that read 5:36 PM.  He saw himself boarding the plane, the flight attendant stowing his bag and then sitting down in the aisle seat 13B next to the woman studying the safety card.  He saw himself glance at the 3 empty seats across the aisle as the plane taxied and took off. He felt a strange sense of peace within as something below him cracked, then the whoosh of air, the smell of fuel and the sound of screams as the masks dropped. Then a spark, a flash of light followed by a deafening blast and intense heat as all the life was removed from his body. Then he woke and threw up all over the bed.

Frank knew. It wasn’t a dream. It was a premonition.

Frank opened his eyes and watched as the gate attendant clicked on the microphone. “Attention passengers of flight 702. We apologize for the delay. There was a small concern during the last fight and the mechanics just want to check it out. It is nothing to worry about. We will be boarding the flight just as soon as possible. Thank you.”

Frank popped two more Tums into his mouth as he glanced around at the other passengers. It was the typical assortment – a retired couple in floral shirts, college students with their bulging backpacks, an old woman reading a romance novel, a young couple trying to amuse their baby to keep it from crying – all of them trying to ease the tension as they waited to board the long metal coffin.

Frank glanced at the clock. 5:14 PM. The aroma of burnt coffee and the sound of a vacuum drifted nearby. He looked outside. It was drizzling again – not enough to cause a delay but it gave the air that moist smell like an old abandoned boat house. Frank stared at the reflection of himself in the window. The lean, middle-aged man with thinning brown hair, bulging belly and awkward-fitting brown suit looked less like himself and more like a ghost of someone who wasn’t fully there.

All day Frank had dwelled on the vision. Was it just some fantasy dream created by his subconscious or was it truly an omen? And if it was real, what was he supposed to do about it? Was it some predetermined destiny that could not be changed or was he really supposed to stop it and if so, how? Or maybe it was part of some bigger purpose and trying to stop it was the wrong thing to do? As tragic as it was, maybe his role was to make sure it happened exactly as he had seen? How would he know? And most importantly, why him? Why was he chosen? He had never completed anything in his entire life, why in heaven’s name would he be selected for something like this?

There was a man yelling at the counter attendant about the delay. He looked familiar. Frank had seen him on previous flights. He was furious. No he couldn’t wait. He had a presentation. There had to be another flight leaving sooner. The gate attendant was scouring the computer for him. Consider yourself lucky, Frank thought. If this flight does crash, you could make millions writing a book on how you miraculously missed it.

The word lucky stuck in his mind? What did that word really mean? Was Frank lucky? After all, he had flown hundreds, maybe even thousands of flights for work over the past decade without any real problems. Oh sure there was turbulence and even some diverted flights due to bad weather, but never nothing like the horrible crashes he’s seen on the news. And what were the odds that he would actually be on the next flight that crashed? Could Frank really be that… lucky?

“You make your own luck!” Frank’s Dad used to tell him. Easy for him to say. Frank Sr. had been a financial adviser all his life and a great one too. He had been born with the talent to use numbers like magic to help people manage their businesses, and really, their lives better. He also had an amazing charm that could gain people’s trust at the first smile. And it didn’t hurt that he was six foot four with broad shoulders and naturally tan skin. CEO’s and millionaires would wait weeks just for an hour of his time. Big firms offered him large salaries and corner offices to join but he always said no. He already had everything he wanted. Frank Sr. was truly lucky.

At home, however, Frank Sr. was a different person. The dark side of his charm and drive came out in the form of endless perfection and discipline. He was like a military sergeant constantly driving his troops. He was critical, demanding and impossible to please. He expected great things from Frank Jr. No, strike that, he expected miracles from Frank Jr. “You’ll be carrying on the family name!” he would say. Failure once was acceptable, but constant failure was a sign of weakness and that was unforgivable.

But no matter how hard Frank tried, he couldn’t be the wunderkind that his Dad expected. He would work for hours on numbers and math just to try to see that smile, but in the end he just didn’t have the talent his father had. It was like signing his name with his weak hand. He could do it, but never better than mediocre. There was no perfection, no flair and certainly no magic. The more he failed, the deeper his father’s frown would get. By the time Frank reached high school, his father had all but given up and barely made any time for him anymore.

As soon as he could after graduation, Frank moved out and onto campus at the state University. He worked odd jobs to pay the rent while he tried to find his calling. You know, that one field of study that came so effortless that he could prove to his Dad that he could be good at something. He tried everything from pre-med to computer programming to journalism to even law enforcement, but his grades never rose above inadequate. All around him were students with soaring talents all finding success and opportunity while he continued his odd jobs. So after 5 years with no passion, no major and certainly no degree, he was done. One day he just walked off campus and never came back.

Five years later, Frank found himself driving trucks loaded with toothpaste, deodorant and other commodities across the country. Driving truck certainly wasn’t his calling per se. The sloppiness of the steering wheel and the struggle with the clutch made it hard to maneuver the big rig, but he did okay. The timetables were often tight and the pay wasn’t that great, but he liked the hum of the tires on the highway. He could drive for hours with the radio off in complete silence. It was like meditation. Best of all, there was no one to impress, no one to judge or no one to disappoint. True it wasn’t the great path of life like his father intended, but heck, the world could always use more toothpaste, right?  He was content and maybe even happy and that was enough. That is, until she got pregnant.

Her name was Julie and Frank hardly knew her. When he first met her, she had on jeans and a sweatshirt and was carrying a load of 2^nd grade math books out to her car. She was slightly taller than him, slender with short dark hair, brown eyes and a strong chin. He was in Memphis and had missed his turnoff. He was back-tracking through a residential neighborhood when his semi hit her car. It was the third accident he had in three months. The company was sure to fire him now, so he begged her not to call it in. He said he would pay to get her car fixed himself. He was almost crying. She asked him if he was all right. She had caring eyes like an angel and after years on the road alone in his thoughts he just broke open.

They stood there in the middle of the street for over an hour while he poured out on his Dad, his failures and his life. She talked about her past a little bit too, how she was a teacher and had a lot of friends but still somehow felt lonely. Perhaps she was exaggerating just to make him feel better, but he didn’t care. She was comforting and treated him like an equal which was something he had never felt before. They ended up going back to her apartment.

They talked on the phone quite a bit after that. He stopped in Memphis every chance he got. Then twelve weeks later she called to say she was pregnant. He wasn’t ready, but he knew he needed to do the right thing, so he married her. It was a simple ceremony that included her mom and dad, a few of her friends and of course, his parents. Frank Sr. frowned when he saw the bulge in Julie’s belly, but remained silent as Frank vowed to make it work.

But now with a new wife and child, Frank had to stand up and be the breadwinner. He couldn’t hide behind a steering wheel anymore. He had to be the hero and provide the best he possibly could for his family and that meant he needed something more stable and closer to home. So he turned to the only option he knew.

Frank Sr. refused at first, saying Frank’s incompetence would ruin his reputation. But Frank’s mom, Margaret, persuaded him to give Frank a chance. So Frank moved his new family into a starter house a few blocks away and began his job as administrative assistant. Frank Sr. grumbled as they shuffled things around in the outer office to make room for Frank’s desk. The office had been specifically designed to create an aura of prestige for his clients. There was a plush waiting area with chairs and TVs tuned to various news and investment channels, a large rack containing the day’s current business and finance newspapers, a counter with free coffee and snacks, and cubicles with computers and phones for clients to stay connected while they waited. Now everything seemed scrunched together and out of place like a garage sale.

Working for his Dad wasn’t easy and wearing a suit made Frank feel trapped in a cocoon. Between answering phones, preparing documents, and scrambling to get his Dad’s clients a lite mocha latte from Starbucks, the office was a constant frenzy – nothing like the peace and quiet of driving a truck. Frank tried to chit-chat with the clients while they waited for the big man but he knew nothing about financing and even less about sports or politics or anything else they cared about. When his Dad emerged from the master office to retrieve the next client, he would glance at Frank as if hoping something finally clicked and Frank would snap into that wunderkind he always expected. Frank waited for that moment too, wanting it to happen even more than his father did.

Home life was better. Hannah turned two and Frank was really enjoying being a father. He loved how Hannah would look at him like he was a superhero. When they played horsey or tea party together she would laugh and carry-on like no one else in the world mattered. Frank wondered if being a father was the one thing he would finally be good at. After all, he could certainly do a better job than his own father. Yes, it made perfect sense. After struggling for years he finally found his one true talent in life.

Frank Sr. didn’t see it that way of course. “You’re too easy on her,” he would say when they visited for birthdays and special occasions. “You’re the father. She needs discipline and order, not a playmate.” Frank would disagree, but never out loud. Just wait until she grows up, he would say to himself. You’ll see. Maybe she won’t be a wunderkind but she’ll be happy and have friends.

But of course his father never would. It was at work on a Wednesday about a year later when Frank heard yelling in the Master office. He ran in to see his father lying on the floor while the president of the First National Bank was frantically performing CPR. The president yelled to call an ambulance but Frank just stood in shock. He had never seen his father in a weak position and depending on the actions of someone else for survival. He looked like a complete stranger lying there helpless. The ambulance arrived but it was too late and just like that his father was gone.

Frank sobbed uncontrollably for days and didn’t know why. Was it because he never got the chance to prove to his father that he was truly good at something? Or maybe it was the release of no longer having to live under his eye anymore. Or maybe it was because Frank had always imagined his father on his deathbed and before dying he would look at Frank and finally admit he was sorry for all the mistakes he had made.

Frank wasn’t the only one affected by his Dad’s sudden death. Friends, business associates and certainly all his clients were shocked. Hundreds of people including top executives, government officials and even local celebrities showed up for the funeral. Many were surprised to learn that Frank was the big man’s son. Apparently his Dad never told anyone. The one person taking it quite well, believe it or not, was Margaret. Oh Frank could tell she was sincerely sad. After all, for all his overbearingness, she did truly love him. But she also seemed strangely invigorated, like an old work horse suddenly set free with absolutely no idea what to do.

At the funeral everyone had been cordial and nice, offering Frank and his mother their condolences and sympathy. But after a month the calls started filtering in as people wondered what was going to happen with their portfolios. Ironically, Frank Sr. had never done much planning in the event of his own death. Oh sure, he drafted a quick will after Frank was born, but it didn’t mention what should happen to his business, instead everything was left to Margaret.

Poor, sweet Margaret. She had met Frank Sr. in college. She came from rural Illinois and wanted to be a journalist so she could travel the world, but then she married Frank and dedicated her life to him instead. They had been married almost 40 years and all that time she remained the loyal, subordinate wife. Only now as a widow was she finally able to bloom into the person she deserved to be. Her eyes were weary and tired but her heart was still young and restless. She had no knowledge of finance and certainly no desire to run a business. Instead, since her husband had left her with a comfortable retirement, she decided it was finally time to see the world. “The business is yours if you want it,” she said to Frank. He objected, but Margaret shushed him. “I always knew you would find your place in this world. Now take it and be happy,” she said. Then she and her best friend Carol left for Paris.

It took another two weeks before Frank could step back into the office again. It was eerily dark and quiet when he entered. The TV’s were covered with a thin layer of dust and the newspapers were yellowed and curling. Frank left the lights off as if afraid he might get caught doing something wrong. He slowly walked past his desk and into the master office. It was cold and looked foreign to him as if he had never seen it before. Everything was his now – The desk, the bookshelves, the files, even the wilting plants. He owned it all and he was free to do whatever he wanted, but he had no idea what that was.

He eyed the spot on the carpet where his dad had died. It was just a plain spot now, no different than any other spot. In fact, the only evidence that anything significant had happened was the papers scattered on the floor that Frank Sr. had been holding and the chairs that were thrust aside when the paramedics came. Everything else was still in its proper place. The room was silent with no motion at all except for the red light flashing on the phone indicating the dozens of messages.

Frank slowly cleaned up the mess before stepping over to the tall-back leather chair behind the desk. Even as a kid he had never even dared touch that chair. It was his dad’s chair and sitting in it seemed like a mortal sin. But now, not only was he expected to sit in it, but somehow he was expected to take his dad’s place. He was expected to run the business with the same prowess his dad had without so much as an accounting degree. He stood there staring at the impression in the leather that his father’s body had created over the years. Finally he got up the courage and sat down. It was colder and more rigid than he expected and the contour felt awkward underneath his smaller frame. Still, he sat motionless and stared at the flashing light for a long time before finally picking up the phone.

Frank was determined to keep his dad’s business going, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy. He hired his Dad’s friend Mason Anderson to do the advising work at least until Frank could complete night school and get certified. Mason was a financial adviser from McDermotte & Co and an old friend of Frank Sr. He was tall, charming and knew his way around a prospectus. He was quickly able to get all of Frank’s portfolios back on track.

While Mason met with the clients in the master office, Frank stayed in the outer office and did general office tasks, not unlike before his father died. But this time it was different. This time it was his business and he was determined to run it with the same gusto his father had. Most days he would arrive at 5 in the morning, work all day and then go to school at night many time not coming home until after 10 PM. He had taken on a full load at school to get done faster. Julie complained about him being gone all day, but he said it would only be for a year and then everything would be great.

The hardest part was Hannah. The only time Frank saw her now was on weekends and even then he had to spend most of the time studying. He felt guilty about his promise to be the best father ever. Every time she saw him it was like she didn’t know who he was anymore. That superhero Dad look that she had was gone. Frank told himself it was only a temporary setback. When schooling was over, everything would be right again. He would have a great family with a great business and be home every night in plenty of time to and play with her.

But it wasn’t great. The business wasn’t the same. Oh, Mason was good, but he wasn’t like the big man. He didn’t have that magic touch to make people feel like they were in the presence of royalty. Frank tried to compensate by increasing his own charms. He started reading up on sports, politics and business to try to relate to his clients better, but the words always stumbled out of his mouth like bricks. He just couldn’t say things with wisdom and insight the way his father had. Over the next few months, clients slowly migrated to other more respected firms. They apologized profusely for leaving and wanted to stay loyal to big man’s business, but in the end they said it was about confidence in whether Frank could deliver the same results and they just didn’t feel it.

Eventually the clients dwindled down and Frank even struggled to pay Mason’s salary along with his own especially with how expensive school was. Mason mentioned perhaps it was better if he went back to his own company. He had been willing to try this for Frank Sr’s sake, but maybe it was time that Frank Jr. faced the facts.

Frank called his mother who was touring through India. “Your father would be proud for how hard you’ve been trying,” his mother said. Frank disagreed. His father had never been impressed with trying; only succeeding. Still, he appreciated the kind words anyway. “Maybe it is time for a change,” she said. “You can’t keep up this pace and it’s clearly not making you happy.” Frank agreed. Why did he ever think his Dad’s death had changed him somehow? He was still no different. He was still unable to complete anything he started.

So nine months to the day after his Dad died, Frank turned off the lights and closed the door to the business for last time. He had a liquidation company come in and sell all the assets and put the cash into his mother’s travel account. The only thing he kept was his father’s chair. He didn’t know why. He had only sat in it that one time. Still he couldn’t part with it so he brought it home and stuck it in his basement. Frank also quit school as well. He couldn’t afford it anymore and besides, he wasn’t doing very well anyway. But now with a wife, a child and another one on the way, once again he was searching for the right thing to do.

Mason had felt bad, especially since his company had taken almost all of the clients, so he found a manager in Auditing that was willing to take a chance on Frank. The manager offered Frank an entry-level position. The pay was okay but it required a lot of travel to companies around the country to audit books. Frank didn’t mind the travel, but unlike driving a truck where he could spend hours alone, this required Frank to be around clients all day. His new boss told him that as the face of the company, he needed to be outgoing and friendly in order to maintain a high client rating. Although Frank knew that every wimpy handshake would be grueling torture, it wasn’t much different than his dad’s business, so at 35 with no degree and no other options, Frank took it.

After he closed the business, he looked forward to being that superhero again. Hannah, at 4, was perhaps a little old now, but Lindsay was due in two months and he really wanted to do it right this time. It would be hard but he was determined to find a way to make it work.

Walking out the door Monday morning for the first trip, Frank felt like he was abandoning his kids at an orphanage. He wanted so bad to run back inside, but of course he couldn’t. He had responsibilities. Money was tight and Julie’s hard pregnancy made it difficult for her to do any teaching. It was all on Frank’s shoulders now. Besides, things had changed with Julie. In the beginning she was great at helping Frank with his depressive moods, but since the kids came along she was more critical. Now she insisted he stop moping. He was a father now and didn’t have the luxury to wallow in his own self-pity anymore. And it had become even more unbearable when her mother moved in to help out while Julie was on bed-rest. So in a way Frank was relieved for the travel. Perhaps it was the break they needed until things smoothed over.

Frank stared out the window as four maintenance crew members stood idle while one person inspected the plane. It started drizzling again and a wave of moldy air drifted through the terminal. Frank overheard the college kids whispering that this was the same type of plane that crashed outside London two years ago killing all 200 people. More incredible though was the woman who had rushed off the plane at the last second yelling nonsense about some vision she had that the plane was going to crash. Weird huh, they said. Anyone getting that feeling? They all laughed.

A sharp spasm shot through Frank’s stomach as if he was about to vomit again. He leaned forward to relieve the pressure but it didn’t help. He had read about that London crash. He had read how the friends and relatives sobbed helplessly as they placed mounds of flowers at the crash site. He had read how everyone on the flight had been leading happy, meaningful lives and how tragic their deaths were. Frank wondered if that were really true. Couldn’t there have been one person on that plane that hadn’t been leading a happy life? Just one person who received no flowers and maybe even made the world a better place by being in that crash?

“Are you all right? You don’t look so good.” the old woman wearing the zig-zag sweater asked. Frank glanced over. She had a kind, grandma-looking face – the type that would make home-made cookies and lemonade whenever she had visitors.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He said as he turned away so she wouldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You should take a load off. We may be stuck here a while.”

“No thanks.” Frank responded as he popped three more Tums into his mouth.

Frank would have liked to sit down, but that would deviate from the dream. Besides, his stomach would get worse if he sat, walked or did anything except stand perfectly still. He had a low tolerance for pain and on any other day he would have just stayed home, but not today. He had hoped his last day on Earth would be easy. There were things he wanted to enjoy one last time like a warm piece of apple pie and a cup of coffee, but his stomach would have none of that. Instead, the best he could do was try to ignore the pain and focus his attention elsewhere. He eyed the couple trying to entertain the baby, but it only brought back images of Lindsay and Hannah.

The old woman stared at Frank as if waiting for him to say something else and when he didn’t, she went back to reading her detective novel. Frank rarely talked to other people when he traveled. He had learned early on that he wasn’t one of those people who could casually chit-chat. The few times he tried to talk about his job or his life or even the weather, he would eventually say something morbid or inappropriate and the conversation would quickly sour. It was that way at his Dad’s office and was still that way now. Eventually he figured it was just easier to say nothing at all.

He hadn’t always felt that way though. In the early years at the firm, he tried to be the person they wanted – outgoing and charming – just like his father. It seemed so easy for Frank Sr. He had that magnetic energy that seemed to attract people. But Frank’s magnetism only pushed them away. He never knew when to say something funny or insightful or to just say nothing at all. He always felt awkward and embarrassed like a boy forced to dress nice at a wedding. Every minute in front of these people was torture. But with the bills coming in, Frank had to swallow his fear and be the man they wanted him to be. So he would put on his warehouse suit and walk into their plush offices and try his best to not be himself.

Sometimes he would get frustrated as other, younger auditors would get promoted past him. These kids right out of college that he would train in would quickly become his boss while he struggled to maintain adequate client scores. After a while, though, he accepted it. Everyone else seemed to have some magic ingredient to life while Frank sat like a spectator in the audience wondering how they did it. What was that trick that allowed someone to face their fear without being afraid? He asked people to help. He asked them to show him what it took to be that fearless warrior and they would to help for a while. But eventually they said either you have it or you don’t. And if you don’t, you’ll never get it. Frank seemed destined to be stuck forever. That is until he found something that finally worked.

Alcohol.

Ah, yes. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Maybe it was because his father never drank. Frank himself always shied away from drinking because it was usually coupled with some dreadful social activity. But it was a celebration for Markus, who had just been promoted to manager, that Frank discovered the power of alcohol. Frank hated it but felt obligated to go since Markus was now his new boss. Markus was 24, single and still set in his college ways. He took them to the Irish Pub and kept buying everyone shots. Frank declined at first but obliged after Markus frowned at him.

The first four shots were awful and left a burning sensation in his throat. After the fifth, Frank blurted out that he was about to throw up. That’s when something amazing happened. They all laughed. Yes, they truly laughed at something he said. And it wasn’t a pained laugh either like when he said something awkward. It was a sincere laugh. Frank had actually said something funny. Frank smiled, had a couple more drinks and blurted out something else and they laughed again. It was amazing. They were actually enjoying his company like he was one of team. Even Markus said “It’s about time you loosened up, pal.” It was then that everything clicked.

Frank got it now. He always thought that happy hours and client dinners were just a way to indulge at the company’s expense. Frank had never bothered with any of that. He had always been focused just on the work. He would get there first thing Monday morning, greet them nervously and then dive right in saying as little as possible. He never realized what a fool he had been. After all, clients already hated auditors. They were never happy to see him and especially not first thing on a Monday morning. But now he understood that those night-time rituals were a part of doing business.

So he changed his routine. He flew in on Monday afternoon and met his clients over dinner while sharing a couple of bottles of wine. That way everyone, including Frank, would be more relaxed. Then when Tuesday morning came and he showed up at work, everyone was more social and pleasant. Heck, people even started to like him. It was amazing. He felt like he had finally found that superpower that everyone else had and more importantly his client reviews started to rise.

The new routine helped at home too. Sure, he would get home later at night on Fridays but now he could spend all weekend with Hannah and Lindsay and even see Hannah off to school on Mondays before he left. Still, the week-long separation bothered him. With every trip he took it seemed longer for Hannah to warm up to him again. Sometimes she didn’t seem to recognize him at all when she got up on Saturdays – clinging to Mom when he tried to give her a hug. Frank started to feel like the villain trying to steal his own daughter just for some affection.

The marriage had been deteriorating since he started traveling, although he wasn’t sure if that was the reason. Julie constantly complained about feeling like a single parent, working full time and raising two kids while he was gone so much. And even when he was there he seemed to just get in the way. She ran the home like a military base to keep things orderly. Even Frank felt like a buck private and she commanded him on cleaning, chores, and how to be the father he was supposed to be. Once Frank replied that he was supposed to be an equal parent too but she just snapped back saying he could have equal say when he did equal work. Frank said maybe he’d get a job that didn’t require so much travel so he could be home more but she just laughed and said ‘Oh yeah, like what?’

Since things were really going well now at work, Frank wondered if the same fix could help at home too. So he tried having a drink or two in the afternoon before he got home and amazingly enough it seemed to help. He started to feel more relaxed, more confident and more tolerant of his wife’s rules. He complied without the muttering and even smiled whenever she gave him something to do. Things started changing. His wife seemed to relax more. His kids laughed more at his antics. Heck, even his mother-in-law seemed more pleasant. Frank couldn’t believe he hadn’t done this years ago. Alcohol was the magic that finally helped him let go of his fears and unlock the person he wanted to be. He finally had the life he had always thought he could have.

But after a few months, things started to change. While on his trips, the confidence he needed took longer to induce and was quicker to wear off. He started drinking before everyone arrived for dinner just to be ready when they got there. He also switched from wine to mixed drinks to hard liquor just to sustain that same high longer. In the morning he would get so jittery and nervous that he needed a belt just to calm himself down before starting the rigorous day of schmoozing. And as his client reviews started slipping, he would drink more just to try to keep them up.

Home life had also changed. Julie’s smiles and bits of laughter had morphed into heckling and sarcasm. Her berating would get so bad that Frank had to escape to the garage with a few beers for a while just to calm down. But even that didn’t help. The second he came up, she was digging into him again about some chore not done right, spending too much money on booze or some other thing he failed miserably at.

But the worst part was the kids. They didn’t seem to notice him at all anymore. Hannah hardly looked up from watching TV or coloring when he came in the room and all Lindsay did was cry when he tried to hold her. They never giggled or laughed when he made funny faces anymore. He wondered what Julie was telling them while he was away. Was she poisoning his own kids against him? After dinner they would always ask mommy to help with bath and bedtime, so Frank would tinker in the garage and drink until everyone else went to bed. He couldn’t understand how he had lost the life he had. What went wrong and more importantly, how could he get it back?

Then the comptroller at Whitney & Hudson caught some mistakes Frank made on the annual compliance report, mistakes that would have cost the company thousands. He was furious as he smelled the alcohol on Frank’s breath. He told Frank to get the hell out of the building and picked up the phone to call Frank’s boss. Frank begged him not to do it. He promised he would work off the clock to ensure everything was fixed. The comptroller cautiously agreed and Frank worked all night to fix the report in time. It was a close call and a sign for Frank that perhaps drinking was not the fix he thought it was.

On the flight home, Frank asked for black coffee instead of his usual beer. It was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t drank on the plane. The caffeine calmed his jitters but it didn’t stop his mind from racing. He was trying hard to avoid this moment but he couldn’t. He had to admit that although alcohol helped in the beginning, it was now causing more problems that it had solved. But what was he supposed to do? He had finally found something that made him the person he wanted to be. If he gave it up now, he would just go back to the way he was before and that seemed even worse. How about if he just throttled it back to a manageable level? Would that work? No, frank told himself. He knew what he had to do. He had to give it up.

But Frank’s next assignment was the annual audit of one of the casino accounts in Los Vegas. The casino put him up in a strip-side suite with complementary drinks. Frank couldn’t resist and vowed to quit drinking after this assignment. As he drank his bottomless margarita at the bar, he surveyed the main casino. It was exciting and loud like a Wall Street trading pit. There were some open machines by the bar so he decided to give it a try.

Within an hour he had won two grand and by the end of the week he was up over twenty. He celebrated with a $500 bottle of champagne and bought expensive collectible dolls for the girls and a pearl necklace for his wife claiming he got a bonus from work. The girls were so ecstatic, hugging him over and over again. Julie complained that they should have used the money for better things, but said thanks and even gave him an appreciative smile. It was amazing. He felt like the superhero again.

Frank wanted nothing more than to maintain that feeling, so he wrote up a memo to corporate about how with the risky nature of the casino business, a monthly audit was warranted. They agreed and he flew out again the next month looking to capture that same euphoria.

The second time he wasn’t so lucky and went home empty handed. After that he started trying other things like roulette, black jack and poker. The free drinks gave him the confidence to make bigger bets at higher odds – anything to get back that delirious feeling again. A few times he did win big and it felt awesome. He would haul his chips back to his hotel room and open a bottle of champagne as his counted his loot. But the winnings would only offset the money he lost and soon enough even that was gone again.

During his fifth trip when he had drained the last of their savings account, he finally admitted to himself that this wasn’t working. He had to stop. He had to accept that he would never be that lucky again. But he couldn’t just stop now; he had to get his money back. But how? He decided to dip into his credit cards to win the money back. But when the cards were maxed, he had to cover up the losses somehow. So before he went home, he opened up some new secret credit cards and maxed out the cash advances to put the money back into savings. It was just temporary until he could figure out what to do.

The next month was hell. He was nervous and jumpy all the time, knowing that at any minute Julie would check the bank records or get a statement in the mail and discover his failure and really let him have it. At home he would avoid her as much as possible – working in the yard or tinkering on projects in the garage. Avoiding her also met avoiding the kids though, which made him feel bad. But he vowed to make it up to them after all this was over. He would maybe take a week off and do something fun.

Halfway through the month while flying to Houston, he finally decided on a plan. If he took a hundred grand out of his 401k, that would certainly be enough to win back the money, pay off the credit cards and savings and heck, maybe even enough for something extra. But wait. That’s what got him in trouble in the first place. No, he only wanted to win just enough to pay everything back and then he was done. If he could do that, he would stop the gambling and drinking, work hard to get a promotion and put the money back into the 401k. This time he knew it would work.

But it didn’t. And after two more months, with the savings gone, the 401k gone and all the cards maxed, he was over $500,000 in debt with nothing left. He kept trying to hide the problem by juggling balances on the credit cards but when the collection calls started, his wife found out. She told him she was done. The depressive moods she could accept and even the drinking she could tolerate, but this was the last straw. He begged her to give him another chance but she said no. She took his daughters and left. The last thing he saw was their beautiful faces staring out the window at him as they drove away.

The firm found out as well and pulled him off the casino account and even investigated whether he stole funds to support his addiction. Luckily he was clean, but lying on corporate memos was a serious offense and he had to grovel to keep his job. His boss allowed him to stay on but only if he got clean and joined a support group. Frank obeyed and attended weekly and even daily gambling and alcoholic meetings. He also called a debt service company and created a plan to pay all the money back over the next 25 years.

At first it was easy to quit. In fact, Frank thought it was ironic how that the very thing that caused him to lose his family was so easy to give up after they left. After all, he had no reason to drink anymore. People in group said he was in denial, but he wasn’t. He just didn’t have to pretend anymore. All his life he tried to be what others expected him to be and now he was free to accept who he really was. He used to think that being alone meant being lonely and miserable, but he actually liked being alone. He liked coming home to a quiet house.

But it wasn’t always that easy and Frank did relapse a few times. The hardest part was at night around nine O’clock when he knew Julie would be putting his daughters to bed without him. He missed the giggling and the hugs. Heck, he even missed the bickering and name-calling between them. But most of all he missed the smell of bubble bath and toothpaste.  He would turn on the TV to distract his mind but eventually he would come across a show where a father would be playing with his kids would it would trigger the feelings of remorse and guilt. Being a father was supposed to be the one thing he was good at and the worst part was how he had ruined his kids. Ruined the very ones he had sworn to love and protect.

Eventually he would start drinking just to kill the pain. Then in a drunken stupor, he would call and plead on their answering machine to please come home. No one ever answered or called back. Once after a three-day binge he showed up at their apartment building begging for some way to win back their love while the cops carried him away to jail. Soon after that her lawyer arrived to say they had moved somewhere anonymous and gave him an online account to deposit the support checks into. He also gave Frank a letter from his wife saying his behavior was upsetting their daughters and it was best if he didn’t try to see them anymore. He knew she was right. No matter how much he wanted to be the hero again, that part of him was gone. So he did the right thing and vowed to stay away.

So here he was now four years later. Every day he carried his life like a scar on his face. Every day he saw in his mind the person he wanted to be – the successful, suave entrepreneur like his father had been, with happy clients and a great home life. Every day this image haunted him and he wondered why he didn’t have the tools in his head to make this image come true?  Why can’t the image in his head just match the skills he had to achieve it? Instead all he saw was a chasm between him as his happy life without no hope of finding the way across.

He had long since stopped the drinking and late-night crying fits.  Now he just lived every day in a constant state of dreariness and exhaustion hardly ever saying a word to anyone. He was still working his lousy auditing job, barely making rent, and still had no contact with his kids. He wondered if they ever thought of him or even missed him. He had no idea what they looked like now, what their interests were, what they cared about. They were out of his life. He could die today and they would never know.

Actually, that last part wasn’t true. If he died, they would know once the check came. The life insurance policy he had on himself was worth three million. Somehow through the years of drinking and gambling he had managed to keep making those payments and now it was his Hail Mary. If he died now, there would be enough money to pay off his debts and set his family up for the life they deserved, a life he couldn’t give them while he was alive. It was as if this was his last chance to prove to his father that he was finally worth something to somebody, even it was just a pile of money. And most of all, he could finally be the hero to his kids again.

But as nice as that thought was, Frank could never bring himself to do anything – you know – to make it happen. Suicide was out of the question since he wasn’t sure whether the policy would pay out if he did that. Oh sure he thought of staging an accident like driving off a cliff or pretending to clean a gun while it went off, but he never had the guts to do it. If he learned anything in his life whether at college or watching his father die or even his marriage, he learned that he just didn’t have what it took to follow through with anything. He would always fail. Period. His only hope was for fate to step in and do the dirty work for him.

Then he had the dream. The dream had been a wake-up call.

Frank smiled at the pun.

By some divine glimpse into the future, he saw his way out. Whether it was meant to be an omen or just some amazing overlap in time, he finally got the chance he needed. No guns, no crime, no blame. All he had to do was board the plane and take his seat like he had done hundreds of times before. If he could get himself to go through with that, the rest would take care of itself.

All day Frank was anxious, not knowing what to do while he waited. He thought of going to see Hannah and Lindsay one last time. He knew where they lived. He’d found out about a year ago when he called his medical insurance to verify coverage for a stomach specialist he was seeing. His kids were still covered under his plan and the lady on the phone gave him the address by mistake. They were only an hour away, He could go there now and see them and still make it back in time for the flight. God, he wanted to see them so much. He wanted to see how much they had grown. He wanted to hold them and kiss them and smell them one last time.

But he knew better. What would happen if they saw him after all these years only to learn later he died in a plane crash? Frank couldn’t stand to think of the trauma it would cause. No. It was better this way – letting them think it was a true accident.

Instead Frank packed his bag like he had done a thousand times before. He did it anyway even though he knew he wouldn’t need any of it. He thought about taking some special things. There were some home-made birthday cards that his girls had sent him on his birthday one year. They were on his fridge so he could see them every day. He wanted to take them so he could hold them while sitting in his seat waiting for the final seconds. But he knew he couldn’t. Any deviation from the dream might cause the whole thing to go wrong and he couldn’t have that.

Besides, how much better would it be for his daughters to find them after he’s gone? They would enter his apartment just like he had done at his father’s business all those years ago. They would enter and look around with wide eyes. Then they would see the cards on the refrigerator and they would know how important they were to him. In fact, he made sure there were plenty of pictures of them around the apartment. He even had a couple of pictures of Julie there just to show that he had no hard feelings, that he understood that she was only trying to provide the best for her kids.

He finished putting away the dishes and cleaning the apartment to make it spotless for his family and his mother and whoever else entered. He wanted them to know that he led an orderly simple life on the outside even though his insides were a complete mess. He put on his best suit and tie, held the birthday cards to his chest one more time and then exited the door without looking back.

Frank arrived at the airport several hours early and went to one of the nameless concourse restaurants. He found a spot at a window counter looking out over the tarmac. The smell of burnt grease lingered in the air as the restaurant bustled with the noise of televisions, clanking dishes and people stampeding in and out like a subway entrance. He pushed aside the tall chair so he could stand and ordered up four whisky shots and lined them up in a row on the table. Frank had been proud of himself for not touching a drink in two years but that didn’t matter now. If he was actually going to go through with this, he needed to deaden all emotions inside and this was the only way he knew how. A businessman sat down in the chair next to him and ate a BLT while skimming the Wall Street Journal. Frank played with his drinks, aligning them in different shapes while he gazed out the window as the airplanes routinely came and went. After a few minutes, the man glanced at his watch, got up and left without saying a word. The waitress stopped by to clear the man’s dishes and frowned when she saw Frank hadn’t touched his drinks yet.

As Frank sat there gathering up the courage to devour his drinks, he glanced over at the table next to him. Sitting in the chairs staring out the window were two girls. They were about the same age Frank’s daughters were the last time he’d seen them. They were bouncing and giggling as they watched each plane take off or land. It was as if they had never seen anything so amazing before. They reminded Frank of how his own daughters would burst out with excitement when he did something like a simple juggling trick. He missed those times terribly.  

“Are my daughters bothering you?” The lady sitting at the table asked. She was younger, thirties maybe, with shorter black hair and dressed in loose jeans and a sweatshirt. She smiled lightly which deepened the wrinkles around her eyes.

“Oh, no no,” Frank replied.

“Courtney, Caitlyn! Please turn around and be quiet!” She said and then glanced at Frank out of embarrassment. She looked weary, like she could never get enough sleep. “They’re just so excited, you know.”

“I can see that,” Frank said. He didn’t want to look at them but they just reminded him so much of his own.

“My husband, uh, their father, was deployed over two years ago. He’s finally coming home and we’re flying down so we can be there when he lands.”

“Two years… that’s a long time.”

“I know, I just hope he recognizes them.” She said with a smile. She took a sip of her coffee.

“I haven’t seen my daughters in a while either.” Frank said.

“Oh my God, why?” she asked.

Frank paused. “I’m not supposed to. I ruined their lives.” This was usually the point where the conversation soured and people would break away.

“Really? Seems to me not seeing them is ruining their lives.” She said

Just then the girls shrieked at a 747 taking off. “Girls, keep it down!” she said. “And can you please just turn around and finish your cheese and crackers?” The girls ignored her and continued gaping out the window.

Frank watched the 747 climb gracefully into the air as the girls’ voices – beautiful like music – filled his head with the memories of Hannah and Lindsay. He had no idea what they looked like or sounded like now. He could only picture them as he last saw them staring out the car window as they drove away. He tried to take in a deep breath but his stomach would let him.

“You know,” she said as she eyed the drinks in front of him. “Funny thing about kids, they don’t care about the past. They only care about the now. Like with us, sure it’s been hard, but once he’s back I know it’ll be like he never left.”

Frank said nothing as he watched the rain coating the windows. He could do it. He could drive there right now. Forget the flight, forget the dream, just drive there and see them. Perhaps they would see that he was a changed man. Perhaps they would forgive him and invite him back into their lives. His stomach pinged again. Damn it, he had to stop letting his mind wonder. No matter what he wanted the ending to be, he knew what would happen.   They either wouldn’t be home or they wouldn’t recognize him or worse they still hadn’t forgiven him.

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” he finally said. “But for me, there only one thing left to do.”

“What’s that?” She asked.

Frank quickly downed all four shots. He breathed a moment. “For once I need to finish what I started. It’s the only way I can truly be the hero again,” he said and then walked away.

Frank had been waiting at the gate for about an hour as people slowly collected. He had been watching for any sign that the dream was just a dream and nothing more, but it was all playing out exactly as he had seen. He still struggled with whether he was truly meant to stop this tragedy instead of just following through with it. There was still time to tell someone. He could tell the gate attendant or the flight attendant or even the captain.

But then, he thought, what if he did? Would they believe him? Would they truly stop a plane based on some freak dream that some anonymous passenger claimed to have?

Frank already knew the answer. If he did say something, most likely security would come and haul him away while everyone else boarded the plane anyway. And then one of two things would happen. Either the flight would be fine and Frank would be arrested on some federal crime and fined with some new debt to pay. Or the flight would truly crash and the one person who needed to be on that plane would be sitting in a detention cell.

So no, Frank wouldn’t say anything. The vision was not a sign. It was a gift. It was a gift given to Frank to finally redeem himself for all his sins. This would be his final sacrifice and maybe, just maybe, his family, he friends, everyone, would finally appreciate him.

The mechanics had finished inspecting the plane and Frank watched as they left on an airport cart. Then the attendant came over the loud speaker again: “Attention passengers of flight 702, Thank you again for your patience. Everything has been cleared and we will begin boarding in just a moment.” Frank could hear the people let out a sigh of relief as the gate attendant opened the doors to the jet way and a rush of humid, wet air rushed in.

Frank waited for everyone else to board as if expecting something to happen, another sign perhaps? But nothing. Finally he walked up, sighed heavily and handed his boarding pass to the gate attendant.

“Have a good flight,” she said as she scanned the boarding pass and hand it back.

“Yes, and thank you,” Frank said. He stood and hesitated at the jaws of the tunnel. This was it. He had taken flight 702 dozens of times but this time would be his last. He swallowed hard and told himself it was the right thing to do as he walked down the dim passage.

Frank stepped into the fuselage as a flight attendant greeting him with a smile. She was in her forties with short dark hair and wrinkles around her mouth from years of smoking. He worked his way down the isle to seat 13B and spotted the woman in the seat next to his wearing the same brown V-neck sweater Frank had seen in his vision. She was studying the safety card from the seat pocket. It won’t help, Frank wanted to say, but didn’t.

Frank scanned the overhead bins for a spot for his worn-out bag. Normally as a premier gold member he would be one of the first ones to board the plane. He would then grab his newspaper, novel, and IPod and stow his carry-on in a empty bin before sitting down. But today wasn’t routine. He had to follow the dream perfectly and besides, this time there was nothing he needed.

“I can take that for you,” another flight attendant said. She was younger with long sandy hair in a ponytail, tan skin, and a crisp uniform. She took Frank’s bag and found a spot above row 10, again, exactly as Frank has foreseen.

Frank scanned the people as they readied themselves for what they thought would be a routine flight. Was there really nothing he could do? Or did he just convince himself of that? What if he was supposed to somehow stop the flight? Then maybe, just maybe the mechanics would find the problem and everyone would see how Frank had saved the day.  Then he would get a medal and a big reward and maybe he could still be the hero for his kids.

Frank shook his head and pushed the thought out of his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. He shouldn’t even be looking at these people. He should just sit down and not think about it. After all, if thoughts about even one other passenger crept into his head, he may not be strong enough to go through with it. He had to think about his daughters. This is not my fault, he said to himself. He wasn’t committing a crime. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just taking a flight like he’s done hundreds of times before.

The intercom crackled and a voice came over the speakers. It was a deep, warm voice that no doubt belonged to a handsome, distinguished gentleman.  “Attention passengers, this is Randall your captain speaking and we’d like to welcome you aboard flight 702. We’re truly sorry for the delay. An indicator light came on during the last flight and we just wanted to get it checked out. We assure you that there is nothing to worry about and we’ll do our best to get you to your destination as fast and as safely as possible. As soon everyone gets settled, we will be on your way. So sit back and relax and have a good flight.”

“Sir, if you could take your seat, we’ll be departing shortly,” the young flight attendant said.

“Okay,” Frank said. He turned toward the seat he would die in and hesitated as his stomach surged in pain again. It had been sour all day from the anxiety. He had read somewhere the best remedy for stomachache was eating flower petals. He would have liked to try that one day, but instead he sighed and accepted the pain. It was part of the burden he had chosen for himself.

He paused for a moment to let his stomachache subside and his eyes settled on an unfocused object as he thought about how he got to this very moment. There was no one to blame but himself. He had so many chances – his father’s teachings, his father’s business, a forgiving wife, amazing kids, a firm that took a chance on him – so many chances to stand up and make something of himself. But he wasted every single one of them. Instead he clung onto his faults as if they were a lifesaver in an ocean of freedom where all he had to do was let go and he would be free. Now here he was desperate for one final chance to redeem himself.

His stomach stabbed out again as Frank noticed the object his eyes had settled on. It was a woman in seat 13C.  She was sitting back with her eyes closed.

Frank’s breathing stopped.

In his dream. It was empty. Seat 13C was supposed to be empty. Up to this moment everything had matched exactly. But now this? This was different. What did it mean? Did it mean his dream was not fate? Did it mean that his pathetic life wasn’t about to end and they would land safely and nothing would change? Or did it mean nothing? Did it mean that everything would still happen as planned and this detail was unimportant?

Frank’s body forced him to take a breath with a harsh cough.

The women opened her eyes and looked at Frank. “Oh, so we meet again.”

Frank recognized her from the airport restaurant, but that recognition was in the back his mind as the front was filled with confusion that the seat was supposed to be empty. “You’re not supposed to be sitting there.” he said.

“What? I’m sorry, is this your seat?” she replied as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her boarding pass.

“No, no. I saw it, these seats were empty.” Frank said. All day long he had prepared for this moment. He struggled to get up the nerve to go through with it. Now his thoughts were scattered like shattering glass.

“You saw it?” she said. “Oh you must mean online. Yeah, we just booked it this morning. My husband was supposed to come home next week but he got on an earlier transport and so, here we are.”

Frank frowned as he tried to comprehend what she was saying. Then he noticed the seats next to her, seats 13D and 13E, which were also supposed to be empty, and saw Courtney and Caitlyn as they gazed out the window. Another pang surged through Frank’s chest as he grabbed the seat to steady himself. What were they doing here? Why hadn’t he seen them in his dream? He never would have accepted this fate if he known these children would be on the flight. How could he sit down peacefully now? He didn’t want to think about it. He had already decided his fate. He couldn’t live through another day. He had to think about his own daughters. Someone else’s were simply not his problem.

But then another image wrestled to the front of his mind. It was the image of the girls’ father sitting on a military transport somewhere over the ocean. No doubt he was a handsome man, weathered from two years in whatever hell he had lived through where the only thing keeping him going was the thought of holding his daughters once again. Frank could see him getting off the plane. Frank could see him expecting his daughters to rush into his arms but instead being greeted only by the news of the tragic crash. Frank could see him screaming out in anguish as he collapsed on the ground.

Frank’s knew the feeling well.

“Hey, are you okay?” the woman asked. “You don’t look so good.”

Frank realized now that this wasn’t going to be the end. If the plane did crash, that only meant that the agony would just be transferred to someone else and he would end up carrying Frank’s burden. It wasn’t right, but what could he do now? The only thing that would make this right was if they were not on the plane. Yes. If they got off the plane, then they would be saved and his vision would be right again.

“You need to get off the plane,” he blurted out.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Tell them… your kids are too scared or something, I don’t care, but you have to get off.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“Don’t you see? You’re not supposed to be here. I was sitting right here but your seats were empty. If you get off now, everything will be right.”

“I don’t get it?” the woman said. “You want me to get off the plane?”

“Yes, it’s just that, the plane… I mean, I had a dream,” Frank said. He was never good with words. Even his father told him that. “Uh, I can’t explain …. I have to do this. But you can’t be here, you have to get off.”

The flight attendant interrupted. “Sir, I need you to take your seat?”

“Yes, I am sitting down, thank you.” Frank said as he smiled weakly. “But this woman, she said her daughters are afraid of flying and they need to get off.”

The flight attendant looked at the woman “Oh? Is everything all right ma’am?”

“I’m not sure. This man is telling me I need to get off the plane.”

“Yes, yes, don’t you see?” Frank said as he tried to keep his voice down. “They can’t be here.”

“He said he had a dream,” the woman said.

“A dream?” the attendant said.

“That’s not important,” Frank said. “It’s just that I was sitting here and these seats were empty. If they stay, it won’t end right, the pain will just live on”

“Is there a situation here?” The older flight attendant stepped in.

“This man is saying that this woman and her kids need to deboard the plane,” the younger attendant said.

“Yes, yes, they can’t be here. I think they’re ill” Frank said.

“Really?” the older one said. “I would say it’s you that doesn’t look well, sir.”

“No, no, I am fine. I’m sitting here, see?” He said. His arms trembled as he motioned to his seat. “This is where I’m supposed to be. But these daughters, uh, children, they have to leave.”

“See? He keeps saying that.” The younger attendant said.

“Sir, you’re not making any sense,” the older attendant said as she frowned.

“I know how it sounds, but you have to believe me. If they stay, it won’t end right,

“Hold on just a minute,” the mother said. “In the restaurant, you said you needed to finish what you started. You did have a dream, didn’t you? What was it? Does something happen during the flight!?”

“No, it’s just a dream,” Frank said. Sweat formed on his forehead as he was trying to find some way to steer the conversation back to where he wanted.  “Look, it’s not about what happens to the plane. It’s just that you can’t be here. Otherwise your husband will just carry on the pain.”

“Wha-What’s that!?” the lady in the V-neck sweater suddenly spoke up. “Did he say something happens to the plane? I-I am not flying if something’s wrong with the plane!”

“Ma’am, nothing is the matter with the plane,” The attendant replied. “The mechanics inspected it. Everything is fine.

“But he said something happens!” The lady replied as her expression changed from concern to fear. “Oh my God, d-did you do something to the plane?!”

“No, it’s nothing like that!” Frank said. He looked at the V-neck sweater lady. He was surprised he hadn’t really noticed her before. She was younger than he expected. She had short brown hair and clear blue eyes. Her sweater was a little over-sized but Frank could still see the ring on her finger from underneath the sleeves. No doubt she had a family with kids – young kids that would be devastated when they learn their mother had died. He glanced around at everyone else, some watching the spectacle, others in their own worlds, and he started to see all their faces. They all had families. But no! He couldn’t think of that! He had to be strong. He had his own daughters to think of.

“Maybe we should have the mechanics check it over again just to be sure?” The younger attendant said.

“What? Why?” the elder attendant said. “Because of something a passenger says?”

“Well, I don’t care what you say,” The V-neck lady said as she stood up. “I am not sitting next to this man for three hours. I want a different seat.”

“Ma’am, please let us handle this,” the elder attendant said. She frowned and turned to Frank. “I’m sorry sir, but you’re going to have to come with us? “

“What? No,” Frank said and coughed harshly as his chest tightened. In his mind, he was trying to regain the vision of himself sitting peacefully waiting for the end, but the image that had driven him to this moment was already gone. Other images had taken up the space – the image of the girls glaring out the windows, the image of their father sobbing on the tarmac, the image of the V-neck lady twisting the ring on her finger, the image of all the other people getting settled on this full flight.  Even if he was able to somehow convince the mother and daughters to get off, he knew that other families would still be broken. This wasn’t the end, it was just the beginning.

“I’m sorry, but you are being a disruption to the other passengers. We have to insist that you deboard the craft until we figure this out,” the older attendant said “Cassie, get his carry-on, will you?”

“No, No. You don’t understand,” Frank protested and the elder attendant grabbed his arms and pulled him towards the main hatch. Frank resisted and tried to stay his ground.

Maybe he had misread the dream. Maybe the right thing to do is to stop this tragedy, not participate in it. Maybe his whole purpose in his life was to get to this point and save these people even though it meant his own miserable life would carry on. He should do it so others wouldn’t feel the pain he’s felt. He should do it to carry the load so others may be saved. But no. Frank shook his head. He is not a hero. He is just trying to do the right thing. But what is the right thing? He had no idea anymore.

“Come-on” The elder attendant said. “You are getting off this plane one way or another, you choose.”

Frank looked at everyone staring at him – the V-neck lady with her eyes narrowed, the mother who had an expression now more of pity and sorrow than fear, even the two girls stared at him with the same look his own daughters had the last time he saw them driving away.

“It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be peaceful.”  He sighed heavily as he allowed the attendant to guide him off the plane.

On the jet way, the gate attendant was waiting, apparently fully informed of the disruption as she guided him across the threshold. She grabbed the carry on from the attendant and led him slowly up the jet way.

Frank heard the hatch close and seal behind him, forever closing out the possibility of a certain fate. Somehow he knew the flight would land normally now and everyone would carry on with their lives, as Frank slumped his shoulders from the weight of his actions and walked back to the gate.

“Can I call someone for you?” she said as they entered the terminal and she closed the door behind them. Frank looked around expecting the police or airport security to be there, but no one was. He looked at her. She had that sad look of sympathy but it was distant, like a passerby watching a traffic accident. They had called no one. As long as he left peacefully, nothing would happen.

“No, I’m fine,” Frank said as he grabbed his carry-on from her, smiled slightly and turned around. He walked over to a seat and sat down. He watched as the gate attendant locked the door and walked away. The gate was empty now. People walked by. Somewhere in the distance a vacuum still buzzed and someone was running, probably late for their own flight. Life carried on normally for everyone except Frank.

What should he do now? He had no direction. He could not go back to his old life, not anymore, not after this chance at redemption. He just couldn’t.

Perhaps he could get on another plane. Just pick one, anyone, buy a ticket and go wherever it took him. For once let fate take control. After a life of trying to do the right thing, maybe he would see if for once the right thing would come to him instead.

The running footsteps got louder. It was more than one person running, perhaps two or three people running desperately. Two girls ran right up to gate A12, panting and wheezing. They looked out the window as the plane pulled back from the gate.

“Oh no! they’re already leaving!” One said.

A woman finally ran up, slower and panting even harder.

“Mom! We missed it! Can we call someone? Make them turn the plane around?”

The mom tried to answer but she was breathing too hard to speak.

Then Frank recognized her, the Mom. It was Julie. Then he looked at the girls and recognized Hannah and Lindsay. They were older with shorter hair, but they still had Julia’s eyes.

They looked around, looking for the attendant, someone, anyone. Frank stood up. It was Lindsay that saw him first.

“Daddy!” she yelled as she ran over and grabbed him hard.

Then Hannah saw him and ran over and hugged him too. Frank put his arms around them both, shocked and bewildered. A warmth entered into his body as he breathed in the scent of their hair, letting all pain and worry evaporate as he soaked in the moment.

Julie wandered over and stood there watching, just as bewildered.

“Wha…what are you doing here?” Frank said, looking at Julie while he hugged his girls.

“Hannah and Lindsay…” Julie said “They’ve been frantic all morning.  They both had a dream last night, the same dream. They said you got on that plane and died…”