“Yes, you may be right,” said John.
“I am right.”
John glanced at the fallen passenger. “How is she doing? Do you think she’ll be OK?”
“Yeah, I think so. She’s slowly coming around,” said G.R., having decided to keep his suspicions about the man’s passing to himself for a while.
“That’s a relief,” said John.
“Somebody’s going to have to go up front and tell Charles,” suggested G.R.
“That would be me. But first, help me drag this man out of the aisle; then see if you can get a blanket to cover him up. Liesel, would you please make sure that this woman gets taken care of?”
“Will do, Mr. Tacker,” replied Liesel.
The two men dragged Sonny’s body as far back in the cabin as possible. Then John slowly made his way to the cockpit, not sure of how Charles would react. It was a safe bet that it wouldn’t be good.
*
“Captain, would you mind if I went back for a short bathroom break?” asked Asa.
“By all means, Asa. I’ve got the airplane, go ahead,” said Charles.
While Asa made his way back, Charles heard someone calling their airplane’s christened name over the number two radio. It was a relay from the company.
“Is this Captain Pratt, over?” asked the radio operator from New York.
“Affirmative, this is Pratt, go ahead,” answered Charles, wondering why the operator did not use their flight number. He was well-aware that the company only did this when passing along covert messages and instructions.
“Captain, please confirm First Officer Asa Day is not in the cockpit, over,” said the operator.
“That is affirmative. Mr. Day is not here, over,” responded Charles with a furrowed brow, his curiosity clearly piqued.
“We have just received word from Pan Am operations that Mr. Day’s father has been killed in an automobile accident. He will be relieved when you land in London. He may then catch the first flight back to New York, over.”
A sick feeling permeated Charles’s body. Both Lars and Ed looked up and instantly felt sorrow. Everyone in the cockpit knew how close Asa and his dad were. Their relationship was everything to Asa. They all knew he would be devastated.
It took Charles a good long minute before he could speak. “New York, I do not want you to repeat that information over this frequency again. In addition, any aircraft on the frequency please refrain from repeating what you have just heard. We will deal with Mr. Day’s loss ourselves, over,” said Charles. He then turned his head, looked at the other two crew members and stated, “I will handle this.”
Both Ed and Lars nodded, but said nothing.
While the three crew members sat in silence, thinking about their own families, John entered the cockpit.
“Captain, I have some terrible news,” said John.
Charles spun around. “How in the world did you find out?”
“I was there, but I wasn’t aware that you’d already been informed.”
“What? You were where?” asked Charles.
“By the aft lav,” answered John.
The confused captain shook his head and said, “John, please start from the beginning.”
“I was about to enter one of the aft lavs,” said John, “and when I opened the door, a man with his pants and under-drawers down around his ankles fell to the floor. G.R. came over to see for himself and it appears as though the man is dead.”
“Dead! Someone has passed away on one of my flights? Are you certain? How did it happen?” asked Charles.
“Well, sir, both G.R. and I are reasonably sure he’s dead. I have no idea how this may have happened. G.R. thinks that it may have been a heart attack, but it could have been anything. I mean, he may have been ill when he came aboard. There is simply no way to know.”
Charles rubbed his palms over his face, realizing that his night had just become vastly more complicated. He held his hands over his eyes for a while, thinking about how best to handle the situation. “John,” he said finally, “sit in the right seat and back me up. You have the airplane. I’m going to call New York back.”
“Yes, sir,” responded John, silently speculating about what Charles meant by “calling New York back.” Did Charles call New York already to talk about me? Is he going to tell me that I’m fired now or will he keep me in suspense? He shook his head while adjusting his seat, unsure of how the night would end.
“New York Radio, New York Radio, this is Clipper Seven Seas enroute from New York to London calling on HF, six seven five eight, over,” said Charles into his microphone.
Through the static, sounding as if the party he was trying to contact was at the other end of a very long tube, Charles could just barely make out the voice of the New York operator.
“Clipper Seven Seas, this is New York, go ahead.”
“New York, we have a deceased passenger on board, cause of death unknown. It’s believed to be a heart attack. Request direction from the company regarding the continuation of the flight, over,” said Charles. Then turning back to face his navigator, he said, “Ed, go back there and gather all the information you can about this person, because sure as rain they’ll want to know.”
Ed was halfway to the cockpit door by the time Charles finished issuing the order.
While waiting for a reply from the company, Charles looked at John and said, “I hope this wasn’t your fault.”
John said nothing. He didn’t expect Charles to pin the blame on him quite so quickly. He turned his head to look out over the vast moonlit ocean, wondering what he would do. Getting fired from Pan Am seemed unconscionable. A few moments later, he felt his stomach start to churn. The old familiar feelings of self-pity and depression were back. John frowned because he knew that he was about to take another trip through hell. As desperation approached, he tried to think about something else. One of his favorite memories was the Thanksgiving Day game against Valley View.
Coach Nubani was forced to pull Paul Esslinger out of the game at halftime due to an injured knee. Paul was the best tight-end we had and I was afraid the game was over. I remember watching Coach look around, clearly anguishing over which second stringer he could use as a substitute. I wanted Mark Temprine, but I knew the Irish kid’s shenanigans at our last game against Tunkhannock meant he was finished for the season. The taciturn coach finally pointed at my pal, Bill Pratt. I saw a definite sign of surrender in the coach’s eyes before turning away in disgust. True, Bill was my best buddy, but come on, this was Valley View! I was so mad at Nubani. I figured we were doomed.
It’s funny. I remember watching that over-eager Bill Pratt jump from the bench and into the huddle, ready to do whatever I asked.
I threw the football to Bill three times, and doggone if he didn’t catch them all. But it was my third throw that won the game. I’m really glad Bill didn’t drop it. Clearly it was my superior abilities that helped make Bill, an otherwise lifer at being a second stringer, an instant celebrity. He owes me for that…at the very least for that. Well, I suppose that’s just the kind of guy I am. I can’t help it if I’m naturally kind and generous. Even to a bubble-headed ingrate who turned around a couple of years later and stole my girl away when I wasn’t looking. Even still, when Bill and I were buds and Lynn was on my arm, boy, those sure were the good old days. I really wish I could go back, but that’s not going to happen. Nope, unfortunately it’s not. It’s more like: here we go again.
While the pleasant memory played out, John managed a slight smile. Then, when the recollection passed, the small fire in his belly raged on. It never dawned on him to think about what he’d been given over the years. It seemed he could only focus on what had been taken away. John simply could not see that his anger about no longer being number one blinded him. His stubbornness left him practically incapable of seeing the good in anything.
The lonely John Tacker looked at the stars and thought of Liesel, the only dream he had left.
Fifteen
Asa returned to a different cockpit than the one he’d left. The mood was far more somber. With nowhere else to sit, Asa sat in Ed’s seat and asked, “What’s going on, fellas?”
Lars, the only other crew member not preoccupied, turned and whispered, “John found a dead man in one of the lavs. Charles is on the line with New York right now trying to figure out what they want us to do. And I’m guessing John is probably blaming himself for the guy’s death. I heard Charles mention something to that effect.”
“Gee, a guy takes a leak and suddenly the whole world falls apart,” said Asa jokingly.
Lars displayed a dour expression when he considered the truth behind Asa’s words. He knew Asa’s own world was about to fall apart and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
When Ed returned to the cockpit he had the dead man’s wallet in his hand. It was bulging with money. Looking at the wallet’s ID card, Ed announced, “The guy’s name is Albert Viscelli of Providence, Rhode Island.”
Hearing the news, Lars practically fell off his stool, calling out uncontrollably in a high-pitched voice, “Who?”
Surprised by the engineer’s reaction, Ed looked at him and said, “The guys name is Viscelli. Here, look at his ID card. Do you know him or something?”
Lars stared at the wallet with bulging eyes. He knew right away that he was likely responsible for Sonny’s demise. He had no idea that forcing a propeller to run away for a couple of minutes could scare someone to death. On one hand he was relieved that Sonny was off his back, but on the other hand he silently hoped no one would figure it out. He liked John Tacker, but had no intention of stirring a potential hornet’s nest, knowing full well that nothing good would come of it. He sat back in his seat in silence. He momentarily considered the fact that Sonny’s death might have just as easily been caused by something else. Then, after further consideration, the initial shock Lars had felt turned to fear once he realized that he was the most likely suspect. It was only a matter of time before they figured it out. Deep in thought, Lars didn’t realize that Ed was staring at him and awaiting a response.
“Well? Do you know him?” asked Ed a second time.
“I think we may have crossed paths,” replied Lars, determined to say as little as possible. He knew if he said the wrong thing, it could come back and bite him.
With an expression that suggested Lars hadn’t told him everything there was to tell, Ed handed the wallet to Charles.
Before the captain read the information over the radio, he said, “OK, men, look alive.” A moment later, after realizing just how foolish his ill-chosen words must have sounded, he corrected himself. “Uh, um, no pun intended there. I meant no disrespect. Now, uh, Ed, I need you to calculate our current position and then run a plot line to Keflavik, Iceland. I have a feeling we’re going to have to execute a diversion there. Lars, as soon as you have the information from Ed, I want you to plan a best speed and power setting to our new destination. Make sure you keep an eye on the fuel. I don’t want to land in Iceland with less than two hours of fuel. Have you got that, men?” Then, without waiting for or expecting a response, Charles shifted his attention to John. “John, get the latest Iceland weather. We’re probably too far north to raise weather ship Bravo, so try Iceland radio on HF. Pay particular attention to the wind. The weather can get mighty sporty up there this time of year. I’m also going to need you to be at your best. I’m going to trust that you will keep an eye on everything that goes on around here. Double check Ed’s work, keep an eye on Lars and his fuel numbers, and especially keep an eye on me. It’s late, we’re all tired and we are bound to make mistakes. This is your opportunity to shine.”
John nodded an affirmative, wondering if it was already too late--if the people back in New York were already typing up his letter of termination.
“Clipper Seven Seas, do you copy New York?”
“We have you three by two, New York. Go ahead,” responded Charles.
“Dispatch advises that you should divert to Keflavik,” stated the operator. “They will alert the station regarding your unexpected arrival. Plan minimum ground time, over.”
“Roger, New York, understand divert to Keflavik, B…I...K…F. I say again, diverting Bravo, India, Kilo, Foxtrot, over,” said Charles. Then he turned and announced loudly, “OK, men, we’re off to Iceland. Let’s stay on our toes.”
G.R. entered the cockpit just in time to hear Charles announce that they would be diverting. “Did I hear someone say we’re going to Iceland? Oh, goody. The Icelandic women are some of the most beautiful women in the world. What did I do to deserve this?” asked G.R. with a huge smile.
Everyone in the cockpit snickered under their breath, including Charles.
“Control your libido, G.R. I was told to expect minimum ground time,” announced Charles.
“Charles, all I need is a few minutes. I can see it now: A frozen young nymph, beautiful beyond compare, shivering on a windswept ramp; with G.R. there to provide whatever warmth is necessary,” proclaimed the feisty engineer.
His last comment brought an outburst of laughter from everyone within earshot. It was a welcome respite for Charles who knew the worst was yet to come. He pushed the flight attendant call button, summoning Kelly to the cockpit.
“Kelly, what’s the situation back there?” asked Charles, the moment he sensed her presence in the cockpit.
“Mr. Viscelli is lying on the floor in the aft cabin with a blanket over him,” said Kelly. “Some of the first class passengers are a little shaken up, but I think they will be all right. The older woman that passed out seems fine. We gave her a glass of water and she’s sitting comfortably in her seat. Sue is with her now. We’ve asked, but the only doctor we have on board is a veterinarian.”
“What old woman?” asked Charles, shooting a sharp glance at his copilot. “I didn’t know about that. All I was told was that a man had passed away in one of the aft lavs. Why wasn’t I informed?”
John wanted to say to his captain that he didn’t have a chance to tell him, but decided silence was his best option. He looked at Charles and Kelly with concern in his eyes, but remained quiet and emotionally absent.
“An older woman saw the man’s body and fainted,” said Kelly.
Charles threw his arms up in frustration before crying-out, “This flight is going to hell in a hand basket! I simply cannot have this! I cannot!”
Everyone remained silent, unsure of where Charles’s emotions would go next.
“Are there any other dead or unconscious passengers back there? Are we on fire? Did a wing fall off and you people just forgot to mention it?” exclaimed Charles, clearly annoyed and feeling a bit overwhelmed. “People are dropping like flies around here! First there was a call from New York…”
“Captain!” shouted Ed, cutting Charles off before he said something Ed knew the man would later regret.
Charles, startled by the interruption, looked with surprise at his navigator and asked, “What!?”
“Captain, didn’t you want to tell Kelly about our diversion plans?” asked Ed. “I don’t think she would be much interested in the call from company operations. And I’ll have those numbers for you in a second.”
It took a few moments before Charles realized that he’d almost informed one of his crew members about a death in his family with anger in his voice. He instantly felt ashamed for his lack of self control. “Ed, yes, thank you for getting me back on course there,” he said. Then, turning back toward the purser he added, “Kelly, we are going to land in Iceland to deplane our deceased passenger. As you know, we cannot declare a passenger deceased, only a medical doctor can do that. Technically, the man is still alive and we are diverting with the intention of getting him some medical attention. Is that clear?”
“Yes, captain,” responded Kelly.
“Please inform the passengers regarding our plans. We should only be on the ground for a short while. I’m estimating that we’ll land in London approximately three hours
after our scheduled arrival time.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Charles looked at John with squinting eyes and sneered, “How’s the weather in KEF?”
“Sorry, Charles, I’ll call them right now,” said John.
For the next twenty minutes everyone busily performed their assigned tasks. And while his crew did as they’d been ordered, Charles called Gander to inform them about the change in destination.
The moment Ed finished calculating their heading for Keflavik he handed the information, along with the estimated winds aloft, to Lars so that the flight engineer could make his computations. It took Lars a few minutes to plug Ed’s numbers into the various graphs and tables located in the aircraft performance manual.
While the others worked, G.R. lay comfortably on the upper bunk with his eyes open. He knew things would go smoother if he took over for Lars, but for a myriad of reasons he decided to let the junior engineer handle it. Nonetheless, he told himself to stay awake just in case his underling fouled things up.
“It is as you might have expected in Keflavik, Charles,” announced John.
“What do you have, John?”
“KEF weather is visual. Right now they have one thousand overcast with three miles visibility in blowing snow. The temperature is zero centigrade and the wind is out of the northwest. The latest observation indicates: three-five zero degrees at forty knots, with gusts to eighty knots,” said John. Then, after studying the weather for another few seconds, he added, “It looks rough.”
“Whew! That’s some wind,” observed Charles. “Like I said, it’s not unusual to see that kind of wind during the winter and early spring up there.”
“At least it’s practically down the runway,” noted John, referring to the fact that with the wind blowing down the runway, his captain wouldn’t have to fight a ferocious crosswind.
“Yes, that will help. Good thing the terrain around the airport is relatively flat,” said Charles. “I landed at the smaller airport once, the one just outside the city, and they were reporting high winds just like this. There are some mountains north of Reykjavik, out beyond the bay, and they gave me some of the worst turbulence I’ve ever experienced. I don’t imagine that will be a problem tonight. I suspect icing might be a concern for us though.”
Sojourners of the Sky Page 11
