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:short story SHE WALKED SLOWLY DOWN the aisle, her high heels sinking into the soft carpet. She must have done this scores of times, but each time she came to that spot a vague fear swelled up in her, causing the blood to drain from her face. It was a pretty face, with a shapely nose, wide smiling mouth and dreamy brown eyes. Men looked longingly at her while she served them, avoiding their bold stares. The first to come in was the man in the wheelchair, wearing a loose, flowing white robe. He looked fierce – bushy eyebrows, long, dirty, black beard, and a deep scowl. She glanced at his boarding pass, then at the seat number, and shuddered. It was that seat! He had with him a young, thin lad with dark skin, wearing a bright red shirt, chewing gum with a blank expression. "Cabin crew, arm the doors, please, and ready for take-off," came the captain's steady, friendly voice. They lifted off at a steep incline. When she brought in the trays she deliberately trailed 13 128 | www.hermagazine.co.nz behind her colleague, but found that she was the one who had to serve him. "Name?" he demanded. It was the first time someone had asked that. Regulations were clear. She didn't have to reply to that. But there was something menacing in his eyes which made her blurt out softly: "Monique". "Take this to the captain … now!" He caught her hand roughly, and pressed a crumpled piece of paper into it. The captain didn't change expression even when he read it. "Which seat?" he asked softly. "13," she replied. "Go back" he said, "and carry on as normal." Women screamed, children cried … passengers fell over each other in the scramble to get away from seat 13. He was standing now, supporting himself with one hand holding the seat in front of him, the other waving what looked much like a hand grenade. The thin boy remained seated, calmly chewing gum. Sacramento was alerted, and police shepherded the concerned ground staff to a private room for questioning. The inspector was fuming, firing off a gunfire of questions: "How did the grenade slip past the metal detector?" "Who …who is responsible?" "How can this ever happen?" The truth came out in broken pieces. The wheelchair had been too wide to go through the metal-detector arch. So the passenger passed without screening. "Why wasn't he frisked, eh … why …why?" Now an airliner with 50 passengers and five crew were in grave danger of being blown up in the sky! The departure area had been crowded to capacity, the flight was running late, and so the invalid had been waved on without being patted. The captain left the controls with the co-pilot while he walked towards the rear, saying in a strong voice, "Calm down, please. Calm down. Don't panic. Everything's under control." But the maniac was frothing at the mouth, screaming, "I'll blow you up! I'll blow you up"! The boy however sat there quietly, watching a movie on the small screen in front of him. The captain noticed that. He asked of the man, "What do you want?" "They've ruined my life! The dogs! Didn't give me a cent in compensation … I'll kill everybody". The captain radioed the man's seat number to ground control, and the police swiftly found out who he was, that he had become an invalid after suffering an unfortunate SEAT