Writer: Timothy Dumont Jr.
Co-writer: Crystal Ferguson

Friday, June 18, 2010

119: Tears and Relations -Crystal-

"Hello, Mom?"

A person nearby was talking in to a cell.

"Mom, I love you, okay?" His voice broke.

"No, no, I'm okay. I'm just calling to tell you that I never meant to upset you and I'm sorry. I'll never forget all that you taught me." He went silent, tears along his cheeks.

"Could you tell Dad that I miss him? Tell him that I know he was rough, but I understand that he was just looking out for me. No, I'm fine. Just . . . tell him I love him too. Please put some flowers on Charlene's grave for me?"

Sounds of crying and panic had flooded across the passengers quickly and I'll admit, I was scared too. This isn't something that happens to you every day. This couldn't be happening. My life had been too short, and the only people I could call were either here or . . .

My Dad. I could call him. He wouldn't recognize me, but I wanted to tell him I loved him. Tell him that I've never forgotten him. Say goodbye.

I sat there staring at my cell phone trying to get the nerve to call when I felt a tug on my sleeve. Glancing down I saw a young boy. He looked to be about 5 and his eyes were filled with tears.


I kept silent and stared at the kid, seeing him put me on the verge of tears. Such a small child close to my age, losing his life so early.

"Lady? My Dad won't hear me! He's not listening!"

"Where is your daddy?"

The young boy pointed at a man who was embroiled in the panic, yelling about revolting against their captors. There was no way to get that guy listening.

"What did you need?"

"The bad men. They took the plane and I'm not gonna see my Mommy again.", he started crying loudly and fell to his knees, "I WANT MY MOMMY!"

Tears streamed down my face as I watched this child cry. A couple of seats away I heard people talking.

They were saying goodbye to their children. They could barely speak.

Slowly anger filled me, something I'm not accustomed to. I knelt down in front of the boy and patted his head.

"It's gonna be all right. Do you know your phone number?", I smiled.

"835-555-4930!", he said proudly.

I dialed the number and handed my phone to him. My Father would have to wait.

"Here, you tell your mother how much you love her, okay? Don't worry, I have a couple of friends who may be able to help."

"I'm sure we can come up with something."

I turned to see Ben walking up the aisle toward me, followed by Carl and Nick.

"So, what's the plan, boss?", I looked up at Ben.

"First, you stop calling me boss. Then we save these people."

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