SHORT STORY: Fall Back
“Good evening, Mr. Conner.”
The gate agent took the boarding pass from the worn-out business passenger.
Frank Conner nodded and grunted, “You, too,” and laughed to himself. He heard comedian Brian Regan’s voice every time he said those words.
Frank just wanted to go home.
He took his boarding pass back and headed down the jetway. It was another full red-eye flight to Atlanta. He had been in Los Angeles for a week and the jet leg was already killing it. And to make matters worse, it was the end of Daylight Savings Time. He thought he’d be getting back tomorrow but it might be today or yesterday. “Fall forward,” he mumbled as he passed the first-class passengers. He always made sure to brush them with his carry luggage. “That’ll teach them and their smugness.”
He crammed his luggage in the overhead bin and sat down quickly. A few texts, a quick check of Twitter and then a quick glance at USA Today. The front-page story said that there was another security alert. Damn terrorists. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to hurt anyone else.
Frank just wanted to go home.
He stretched his legs as much as possible. The seat next to him was empty — he had, knock on cheap plastic, won the airplane lottery. He watched as every person boarded the plane. Big, small, tall, smelly, old — Frank sighed with relief when each one went past him. He powered down his phone and closed his eyes. Maybe, just maybe he’d get to sleep on this flight. The flight attendants began to ready the cabin for departure.
“Yes!” he thought with a smile. “I won!”
Then he saw him. The man entered the plane right as the door was closing. “Damn,” Frank thought, He knew darn well this guy was sitting next to him.
The man glared at Frank as he sat down. Frank didn’t want to profile, but there was something about this guy he didn’t like. He just had a pissed-off look on his face. He had a bad feeling.
“C’mon,” he thought, “Stop it.” Frank said hello but the man didn’t answer back. He just sat down with his bag and strapped himself in.
As the plane roared down the runway, Frank thought, “Oh well at least he’s quiet. I’ll be able to get some sleep.” His eyes closed as he drifted into another world.
The cabin was dark when Frank woke up. He looked out the window at the lights twinkling down below. The moon illuminated the plane’s wing. A red navigation light blinked on the wing. He blinked a couple of times and looked around the cabin. His row-mate was sleeping like most of the passengers in the cabin. The hum of the engines meant they were at cruising altitude. Frank looked at his watch.
It was 1:59 a.m. — one minute until Daylight Savings Time ended.
The man’s watch’s alarm went off, breaking the white noise of the cabin. The man’s eyes popped open and he immediately reached down to his bag. He grabbed a bottle out of the bag and lurched out of his seat. And then he headed toward the back of the plane.
Frank thought, “What’s he up to? Must have to pee. Or could he be… Nah. I am paranoid.” Still, Frank had a bad feeling about the man. He turned his head quickly and saw the man fiddling with the bottle.
“NO!” He popped out of his seat and ran toward the stranger.
A pressurized plane is like an inflated balloon. One simple prick of the skin and it will pop — or in this case, explode. When the bomb went off, Frank felt his lungs collapse and the roar of the atmosphere when the plane broke apart. And then he felt nothing else.
Flaming debris and passengers fell out of the sky.
Frank’s battered watch read 2 a.m. — when the clocks rolled back. It was the end of the Daylight Savings Time.
Frank opened his eyes with a start. He looked around the cabin and felt his body. He was still safe. He lurched forward and checked his watch.
1 a.m.
The clock had rolled back one hour. He looked around the cabin. Had he just dreamed what had just happened? If he had, it was a hell of a realistic nightmare. The man next to him snoozed quietly. If this man was indeed going to blow up the plane in an hour, how could he just sleep like this?
Frank sat in the darkness, alone, choked with doubt. He didn’t know what to do. He had to look in the bag. But how? How could he get to the bag without the man waking up? Sweat poured off his forehead. He could hear his heartbeat over the jet engines. His foot started to try to drag the bag over to him.
The man awoke and stared directly at Frank. Without a sound, he put his hands around Frank’s neck and began to choke him. Frank broke free of the man’s grasp and started to swing wildly at him. Screams filled the cabin, some of them from the man and some from Frank. His right hand grabbed the man’s eye socket and Frank started to gouge him as hard as he could. Flight attendants ran from the front and back of the cabin. Three Marines from the front to the plane began hitting both men. Then three minutes after it all began, Frank and the man were subdued.
Frank, facedown on the floor of the plane with a Marine on his back gasped, “Check……his…..backpack…….check……his………”
What if there was nothing? But there had to be something. Why had the man so violently attacked him?
“Shut up asshole,” the man pinning him down growled. The air marshal grabbed the bag carefully and found the bomb.
“OMIGOD,” one of the flight attendants gasped.
“Let him up,” the air marshall said. “He just saved our lives.”
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s headline read, “Passengers Prevent Terrorist Attack.” Frank smiled as he tucked the paper from the driveway under his arm . The door opened and Frank hugged his wife and kissed his children.
Daylight Savings Time had ended. And Frank was just glad to be home.