Young Writers Society

Justine was more than excited about her life-long dream of going to France finally coming true. There was still one added surprise for Justine that Gerald didn’t mention to her as of yet. The tickets he had bought two months ago happened to be first class. This was a last minute decision Gerald had made, but he figured for an extra hundred dollars, it would be worth it. He wanted his daughter to have the best time that she could. Besides, Gerald had never flown first class.

Upon boarding the plane, Justine was ahead of Gerald and once they made their way through the shuttle and stepped onto the plane, Gerald handed the stewardess their tickets. Justine turned right to go into the coach section of the plane. Gerald went to stop her, but before he had the chance, the stewardess said “Uh, Ma’am! You are heading into the coach section. First class is this way.” The stewardess then stood back towards Gerald, pulled back the red curtain, and pointed right.

“Wait, what?” Justine said, and gave her father the look that he had been hoping for.

“That’s right sweetie, first class is located at the front of the plane.” Gerald said amusingly.

Justine’ jaw dropped and Gerald was afraid she may step on her chin.

“You failed to tell me this, because?” Justine asked her father.

“It’s the art of surprise.” Gerald simply stated.

“Well, how many more surprises do you have in store for this dream vacation of mine” she asked

“We will have to see. Let’s take our seats.” Gerald said, and let Justine pass him and journey into the realm of first class. As Gerald was turning to enter after his daughter, he caught the image of something very familiar out of the corner of his eye. It was the turban. He turned around, and there was Osama, sitting three rows back, right side, aisle seat. Osama was looming at Gerald with those dark, sinister eyes. Again, even though Gerald was standing up, Osama appeared to be the same height as he was, sitting down. Maybe it was the turban, Gerald thought, and found this was probably the answer. Osama then sneered at Gerald with eyes as black as oil, and with a Grinch like grin, and then muttered something under his breath, but was directed at Gerald none the less. “Have a nice flight.”

Justine wanted to sit by the window, which was fine by her father. Gerald had a slight fright of heights, and wanted the aisle seat anyway.

“I have never been so excited for anything in my life. I’m so glad I get to spent these ten days with you, dad.” Justine looked at her father and a tear rolled down her cheek. At that moment, looking at his daughter, he thought she looked very much like him. It made him want to shed a tear himself.

“I’m happy to be doing it with you Justine. And I want you to know, the whole situation with your mother, and what she did to you was so wrong and disgusting…and I would never do anything to hurt you the way your mother did. I love you, and you deserve better than that.”

Justine sniffled and wiped her eyes.

“I know that. I should have seen it coming. I mean, I heard things but I didn’t believe them. Who would?” Justine said hoarsely. “Let’s not talk about mom.”

“Good idea” Gerald said.

As they were sitting in first class, waiting to take off, Gerald’s mind wandered back to Osama and the way he was looking at him. What on God’s green earth was this man that was wearing a turban thinking? First he picks his nose right in public without any care, and then he flicks the piece of gold at me and hits my daughter’s book bag. And then he mutters to me “have a nice flight.” What kind of world do these people live in? He tried to push these thoughts into the back of his mind, but before he did, he thought how lucky he was to be sitting in first class.

“Hey, did you happen to notice that guy, you know, the one with the thing on his head that was picking his nose at the gate. He was sitting back in coach.” Gerald asked his daughter.

“No I didn’t notice. But I’d like to tell him what I personally think of him and what he did back at the gate.” Justine said no holds barred.

“Oh yeah, Mike Tyson? And what exactly would you say to him if you had the chance? All one hundred twenty pounds of you?”

“I would tell him that he is the most disgusting creep show I had ever met, and this is America, not the third world country he was born into. We have morals here.” Justine spoke in a loud tone. Gerald noticed her face turning red, and noticed she now looked like her mother.

“Maybe you should go back and flick some of your own gold on him. He may even ask you out on a date.” Gerald said, and noticed his daughters face grow even more red.

“I don’t dig for gold; I use a tissue, thank you! And I would not go out on a date with that freak if your life depended on it. Sorry Dad.” This made Gerald happy.

“Enjoy the flight. That’s what he said to me when we boarded the plane. Don’t you find that strange?” Gerald asked his daughter.

“Who said that? Osama?” she asked her father.

“Yes, Osama. Isn’t that strange?”

“When the hell did you talk to him? I find that even more strange.” she said.

“I didn’t talk to him. When we were boarding, you started to walk into coach, and my eye caught the thing he wears on his head. That turban. After the stewardess corrected you where first class was, I turned back to him and he said it under his breath, but I could read his lips clear as the sky. Have a nice flight. He was looking right at me with those dark eyes of his. He wanted me to see his lips moving.” Gerald told his daughter.

“Well, he just wants you to have a nice flight. Maybe he does have a few manners after all.” Justine said to her father sarcastically.

“Yeah, maybe” Gerald said, and almost immediately broke into a sweat. “I need a drink. Would you like anything, sweetie?” Gerald asked his daughter as he waved over the blonde stewardess that was walking down the aisle toward him.

“I just want a bottled water” Justine said. Gerald wanted some wine, hoping that would calm him. Possibly even make his drowsy.

“Can I help you, sir” the stewardess asked nicely.

“Yes, could my daughter get a bottled water, and myself a glass of chardonnay please” Gerald asked politely.

“I’m sorry, sir. We are not aloud to serve drinks until after the plane has taken off, and reached a safe altitude. Whenever we do reach that altitude, I will be sure to assist you” the stewardess spoke softly.

“Oh, alright. Thank you” Gerald said, and thought to himself “what the hell is first class for?”

Gerald and his daughter sat back in the comfortable first class seats as they waited to take off.

“This is your Captain speaking. My, what a wonderful day we have in Tampa, Florida. My Name is Captain Shilling, and I will be taking care of the flight today. Destination today will be to Paris, France! We will be traveling approximately 4,677.2 miles today and will be arriving at our destination at Paris - Le Bourget Airport in about 9 hours and 42 minutes. Today’s flight altitude will be on average of about 35,000-37,000 feet. Please keep your seat belts fastened until we notify you that we are at a safe altitude to take them off. Our flight attendants will now go over the departure procedure requirements, and answer any further questions you may have. I will be checking in with you regularly so sit back and get ready for takeoff and thank you for choosing Air France flight 764.”

Gerald and Justine watched over the flight attendants doing their procedure, neither really paying much attention.

“Did you bring any gum?” Gerald asked his daughter.

“Oh, yeah…I have some in my book bag.” She bent down and reached for the bag in between her legs, the bag which had the Taliban’s gold on it, and reached into the front zipper. She pulled out a thin pack of big red, and handed her dad a piece.

“Airplanes always make my ears pop while taking off and landing. Chewing gum seems to help.” Gerald said to his daughter.

“Weirdo” Justine said amusingly, but just moments later somebody was whining about their ears hurting, and it wasn’t Gerald.