The Hero in Seat 16A

“Greatness can blow in from anywhere…but only true heroes are aware enough to grab hold at the right moment.” I think Neil Armstrong said that, or Joan of Arc maybe. Whomever it was certainly had a point. Each one of us is capable enough to be a hero, but only a select few know when their name is called. In my case, the name was thrust upon me. In a moment not only life changing for me, but, at least as far as I can assume, a landmark event for any of those involved. Whereas their life is now chronicled as events happening before and after Mercury Airlines Flight 929 SLC to EWR, non-stop.

I don’t travel often but when I do, I aim to arrive at my gate at least two hours in advance. This is isn’t for safety or punctuality, but rather I enjoy the temporary life that exists at airports. That being said, I am quick to board, preferring to wait out my remaining ground minutes from my seat. On this Boeing 737, it was seat 16B. A middle seat regretfully, but a ticket bought in haste has little time to want. No matter, a cheerful olive skinned youth, and hair of obsidian and the placard ‘Paolo’ on his chest, greets me with a ketchup packet of hand sanitizer. He motions me towards coach. After the fact, I believe this to be a less a tactic in assisting the coach passengers but more a defense for the First Class passengers from us common riff-raff.

I traveled light, nothing to check or stow, so I rest easy in my seat. Thankfully legroom is in abundance, and I am able to stretch out my lengthy frame in this extra wide row. The parade of travelers sputter. The cabin is mostly populated. So far, my middle seat has retained only an aisle seat companion, 16C, but the window, 16A, remains empty. 16C is a nervous, and rough looking woman in her late 50s dressed in what can only be described as a large sheet of silken fabric of floral patterns, loosely wrapped around her upper body and stapled together. The pants were Olive green chinos. Her stout body announced its arrival into the seat with a proper thud. She elected to keep her equally colorful bag on her lap. Clutching it with the intensity of a life preserver Luckily for her, we are flying over land, so a sudden fiery crash is more likely than a water one, but I was not about to get involved in her business. She may have been wearing a wig.

Two more passengers emerge through the curtain and then empty space. Boarding had ended. The crackled voice through the speaker confirmed. To my luck, the window seat, 16A remained unoccupied. Lacking hesitation, - a proud trait - I unbuckle, lift my body up, shift to the left and rest back down in the sun warmed windowseat. Newly buckled, eye lids ajar, I settle in for five hours of pure comfort soaring above the world. Only fate had other plans.

“Good afternoon, I am Bonnie, I’ll be back here with y’all…” says a smile belonging to Flight Attendant Bonnie. Bonnie had an unbreakable smile that her colloquial charm patinated rather than tarnished. It matched intensity with the layered make-up masking an indecipherable history. Her hair was the color of a changing season, unsure if it’s coming in or going out.

“Are y’all aware you are seated in an exit row today? And that you may be called upon to assist in an emergency? Do you ya’ll feel comfortable lifting over 100 pounds above y’all’s head?” Bonnie asked, her smile never smudged.

16C was having none of this. The mere mention of emergency and that she would be asked to do anything other than panic sent her into a tail spin.

“Oh no, oh no, I can’t, I can’t lift 100 lbs, no, no no. Please don’t make me help, this is my first airplane trip twenty three years and I just…Oh I just know… I KNOW we are going to crash. I can feel it, my prayers have all but confirmed it…The Heavenly Father WILL protect us, but I cannot…no, no, no, not me, not me…” 16C trailed off into mumbled prayer.

Bonnie did her best to respond.

“Ok, well I can see about swapping you out another passenger but it is a full flight today. About what about you…Mr….Mr. Mann?

Awaiting my chance to answer Bonnie’s question, I was caught off guard by being addressed as ‘Mr. Mann’, as this was not my name. I open my mouth to correct her and -

“…Oh pardon me. MAJOR Mann…my apologies SIR, now surely we can count on you, a strong, handsome, and most certainly decorated Officer of the U-NIted States AR-my to help us little ol’ people out if we need savin’! I can just tell by looking at you, being a hero ain’t nothing new.” She winked almost automatically.

It was at this moment when I became aware of a few things. First off, Bonnie, wears the experience on her face, that is for sure, but she wears it like a majestic Elephant, crossing the sun burnt Savannah. So wise in her years. Secondly, she was holding the passenger manifest, and remembering now I had moved seats, she was now addressing me as Passenger 16A, this MAJOR MANN. And asking Major Mann, ME, to step up and be a hero today. A whiff of greatness just wafted through the air, if you can smell it, I could .

“Oh you have nothing to fear ladies…” swept up in the moment, I pronounced to whole cabin ” nor anyone on this flight…you can all feel safe for I, MAJOR MANN will protect you!” The cabin remained stunned as the expected applause never came. The eyes of everyone locked onto me was gratitude enough. For you see heroes require no ‘Thank You’s’ or rewards, no, heroes just do a thing because no one else has the heart or the stomach to do the thing.

Our take off and ascent were dull, though I was tasked with stowing 16C’s carry on, which from the weight and clanking appeared to be full of a mechanic’s garage worth of tools, but it was no sweat for Major Mann. It did give me time to think about the mistake in announcing myself as Major Mann, for surely someone on this flight knew the real Major Mann. Worst still, someone on the flight may the raise the alarm on my true identity, which would have spoiled the trip before it got going. No one had come forward to question my claim yet. I thought it best to keep a low profile, for both my identity’s sake. For that matter, what did happen to the real Major Mann?

My mind was eased to drift into future plans. Steps the non-Major Mann version of me would need to take once we landed. And the sequence of events that led me here. So impulsive in my decisions, but decisions that led me HERE, to the threshold of greatness. I knew my actions had to be blessed.

While cruising, I waited for the restroom and a fellow passenger named Rich struck up a conversation. He, also a retired service member, wished to exchange military anecdotes while waiting. He was in Desert Storm. Aware of my public perception as Hero, I accommodated his questions as best I could without divulging too much information about the origins of Major Mann or myself. The concern on his face told my answers failed to satisfy is curiosities. My anxiety increased as he pressed me further and further for details. I couldn’t slip and let details of the real me out. I’d be exposed immediately. Were his questions just polite, albeit intrusive, but friendly in their intent? Or was he fishing, does he know my secret? Was he trying to expose me, right here at the bathroom, when he knows he’s got me. Trapped, Yes, it must be. In fact, I don’t remember seeing this gray wrinkled bald head when we boarded. He was a spy, sent by her to flush me out, I couldn’t breathe…I…well -

POP

POP

POP-POP

CLANG

Our metal and fiberglass world shook from blows by a mighty giant or some beast of flight.

DING

The ‘Return-to-Seat’ lights illuminated. Paolo jumps on the speaker, swallows his fear and instructs everyone back to their seats. Passengers shuffle and whimper back. Buckles clicking and clacking, straps tightened.

I find Bonnie before returning and ask if I am able to assist in anyway. She can’t answer fast enough for me to just return to my seat. Clearly reserving me.

16C is locked in prayer chant, and I must traverse her without her help. Luckily, my unheroic maneuver was not witnessed by many. Buckled in, I look out try and assess what I can. From my limited view, the plane remained unaffected by whatever fiend attempted to take down this flight.

POP

POP-POP

POP

BOOM

The monster returns!

The gasps and screams from the cabin were quelled for a time by the pilot jumping on the speaker,

“Folks…we’ve had an expl-…uh.uh..Our starboard engine has…uh….uh..experienced a faulty…”He strains to find friendly words while also battling whatever Kaiju was out there. “…Flight staff return to your seats NOW, prepare for emergency landing!”

We collectively lunged forward as the fuselage dipped downward. Terror rang the God bell and the cabin fell into prayer. Our origin of Salt Lake City provided no shortage of believers, and Heavenly Father was getting hit with requests en masse. I never being one to believe in such hocus pocus kept my head up for the time when a hero was needed to emerge.

“Assume crash positions!” speakers screamed.

Shaken from prayer, a cabin was caught not knowing the answer to this pop quiz. Bonnie, genuflected, unbuckled her five-point restraint and gave a mid-emergency demonstration of the FAA approved crash position for us to follow.

Mechanical clanking and kerplunking beneath our feet. A loud hum, pitched to a whine, then a whistle. Time held its breath before the wheels touched Earth and the Universe exhaled. Our massive speed attempted to slow. A dust cloud of our own making rivaled anything these parts saw in the 30s.

We come to a complete stop, and 184 souls fell in love with life, if only for a moment. My moment was warming up. I looked down the row to find my D-E-F counterparts struck dumb with fear and unable to break their embrace. I had earlier met these other “heroes” in the event we had to assemble a fighting force. Carl and Ginny Hayes, and teenage son Tyler hailed from the great Salt Lake region, proud members of the Church, and had no use for any frivolities like hero work. They were incapable of seeing the need for magnanimous individuals in society, other than the Profit. But would help if people needed their help.

The air felt suffocating. Everyone started coughing. Screaming to open the doors.

Paolo was the first to a door, it happened to be the one by Hayes’. He maneuvered over them, and struggled with the handle.

“It’s not budging!”

And then a voice, Bonnie’s voice, “Major Mann, we need you!” I looked to find Bonnie pinned to the ground under carry-on’s that were not properly stowed and had shifted during our emergency landing.

Darkness fell throughout, light shined only for me. My moment beckons.

Kicking aside shoes that had tumbled my way, I grip the emergency handle tightly with both hands and pull with all my might. Like Paolo’s, the handle would not move. Whether they were damaged in the battle or sealed because of some other villainous conspiracy it was unclear. But as I looked back across the cabin at the terrified faces all looking to me to be saved, I knew it was my time.

Again, I gripped onto the handle, and this time, I looked up the to heavens and cried,

“SPIRITS OF POWER AND MIGHT GRANT ME THE STRENGTH!”

My hands went numb. Veins were ready to jump out of my skin. And then, when I could feel my bowels about to burst, a metallic scrape and the handle unlatched. I pushed open the door, a rush of air and sunlight consumed the cabin, and all exposed collapsed under its comforting warmth. The kiddie slide inflated and I reached my hand back to the first terrified face I could find, it was nice young lady, Asian, her hair was short, she was quiet. She took my hand, I helped her to the slide. One by one, they came to me and I helped them. My actions had no premeditated rehearsals or ulterior motives, they were reactions. Instinct. I was driven from one moment to the next, arriving just when needed. And acting with regard only for the welfare of others. Oh if the me from this morning could see this me now! He’d probably call me a worthless twat, or a penis-faced shit-ass.

Oh no Bonnie!

I didn’t forget about Bonnie. Luckily Paolo had made his way to me, I handed off slide duties and fought my way back to her. I found her buried under six or seven Rollie carts of varied design and texture. I grabbed them, one in each hand, until she was free. I reached down, and said something like,

“You need some help little lady?”

I helped her up. She gripped me tight, stared daggers through my eyes and hit back with,

“I knew from that first look, you were gonna save my day!”

I pull her in for a heroes kiss, when a commotion comes from one of the bathrooms. It was passenger 16C! Only she was in disarray, and her wig was gone. She was a Man! And he had a gun, of sorts. On the ground at his feet, the flowery carry-on, it was full of machine parts. A few had been assembled. One into a gun.

“Diane Snelling!” Yelled Bonnie. Remember she had the manifest so she knew her name.

“Wait no it’s not, look, part of her dress is torn down, and an army uniform is underneath. Wait a second, you’re not Diane Snelling, your…!

“MAJOR MANN! Thats right, the real one I should say, or at least the guy pretending to be. Now, I must do away with the two of you before you derail my plan any further. “

“How did you get a gun on board! And where’s the real Diane?” I asked both out of curiosity and as a distraction. I knew evil villains loved talking about their plans. He went on about all the pieces were in his bag, and he had to quickly assemble them, and he had to practice for months and months with his eyes closed. And his partner, the “Diane”, had a Crohn’s flare up, and missed boarding. So he went along with the plan anyway, but switched roles. I nodded and only vaguely followed his plan, all the while gathering hand sanitizing packets from the open cabinet on the wall.

“Well enough stalling…”he raised the gun and took aim. I knew I had to act. Time slows, and my movements take the speed of lightning. I can see the movement of atoms. With all the packets piled onto my opened left palm I out-stretched it in his direction, and then…

THUNDERCRASH!

My right hand comes striking down in an overhand arcing motion pulverizing the pile. Gellified alcohol erupts. Splattering into his eyes, blinding him. Bonnie, then snagged the coffee pot and whacked him across the face. He stumbled back into the arms of…

“Paolo! “

“And Carl Hayes! I knew you’d come through!” We shared a wink between heroes.

They restrained him and the sirens grew loud enough to signal our work here was done. Arm in arm, Bonnie and I made our way to the door and down the slide.

Before we were on our feet and News cameras were in our face, wanting to hear from the heroes.

“Well its really not about the work of one great person, but the great work of many -“

“Oh he just being modest, This is the hero right here y’all, MAJOR MANN! He saved the day! But he’s got one more good deed that needs doin’ - “ Bonnie finally pulled me in for that kiss, but…another unfortunate interruption.

“Roger! What the hell!

“Wendy, Hi…uh…Were you on that flight?…Oh my God, are you okay?…”

I am frozen in her nuclear gaze. My mask ripped off. Cape torn to shreds. The strength and power crumbled to ash.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Major Mann is dead.

Wendy stormed in from the First class slide and wedged between Bonnie and me.

“How much more clearer could I have been in Seattle, you fucking twisted shit? Were the lawyers and the police not clear enough? And then you pull this shit?

“Everything cool babe?” Called out her shaved and greased orangutan, shoving through the crowd.

“I got it handled Barry!”

“What the fuck, Roger’s here? Bruh, I’m going fucking beat-“

“You just wait a GOSH-damn minute!

Just then, heroes emerge when its time to be great.

“Look we don’t know who Roger is, or the things he done before this Flight. This here is MAJOR MANN, and he’s a hero, our hero!”

Bonnie and the rest of Main Cabin grew to height of mountains and the evil Wendy and shitbag Barry shriveled into worms and slithered back into the mud.

The cape re-thread. The mask fit to my face. Major Mann was reborn. Saved by the few to save the many.