J. T. Randolph
“So what takes you to Cleveland?”
Seat 17C looked up from his newspaper and into the eyes of 17B. “A meeting for my job. How about you?”
“I live there. I am coming back from my yearly reserve training.” He wore his military uniform. They listened to the drone of the engines for a moment. “What sort of work do you do?”
“I’m with a company that consults on business and HR issues.” C looked at the paper in his lap and did not continue.
“I work for an architectural firm,” B offered. “We’ve got a major contract in Philly and I’m supposed to head there next week.” He started to say more and then abruptly stopped.
C nodded and returned his gaze to the paper. A moment later he picked it up and began to turn the page.
“What sorts of requests do you get for business consulting?”
C inwardly sighed. “A variety. Developing business plans, increasing productivity and morale.” He shifted in his seat and looked out the window. He wondered when the beverage cart would be making its way by row 17.
“How long have you been with your company?”
C looked up and did not disguise his weariness. “Fifteen years.”
B nodded. “I’ve been with mine for over 20. They are a good organization, I’ve been fortunate.” B sat quietly for a moment. “Do you like what you do?”
C’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”
“That’s good. That’s important. So you wouldn’t change anything about your career if you could do it over?”
C looked up incredulously. “Listen, I’m really not in the mood for conversation.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” He hesitated, “I just don’t want to die not knowing the person next to me,” he added quietly. His eyes remained focused on the seat back in front of him.
C twisted in his seat and turned his shoulders to directly angle toward his row partner. “What did you say?”
B sighed. “When I went up to use the restroom, the flight attendants and the co-pilot were discussing something. They saw me and asked if I could help. Once the plane was in the air, someone called in to the airline and said there was a bomb on this plane. They had found it. I looked at it, but it is too complicated for me to disarm.” His voice had lost its inflection and was now flat. “It is to go off in another two minutes or so.”
C stared hard at him and then raised his head to look over the seats toward the front of the plane. He saw the attendants and a pilot in a knot all animatedly talking at once.
“They are taking the plane out over the lake so debris won’t cause damage on the ground,” B said.
C looked out the window toward the blue of the lake, miles below.
“As I said,” B continued. “I didn’t want to die not knowing something about the person I am going to die with. You got any kids?”
© Copyright 2009 J. T. Randolph