“Flight 1263. Flight 1263. All passengers for flight 1263 from Moscow to Rejiavick, please board now. Flight 1263 is now boarding.”
Bronte jumped up from her seat and stretched. As she leaned over to pick up her shoulder bag from off the floor, Mrs. Taspen spoke.
“Bronte! Go to the bathroom!” she snapped.
“But we’re boarding. Plus if I have to, I’ll just use the one on the plane.” Bronte tried to explain to her frazzled teacher. She noticed that Mrs. Taspen’s face was more stressed looking than normal, but she was too busy watching the ever-growing line in front of the flight attendants stand to really care.
“I will not walk you to the bathroom on the plane; it is too embarrassing.”
“You don’t walk with me to the bathroom on the ground. Besides you wouldn’t have to. I can do that all by myself.”
“Bronte!” Her teacher said this as though she were spitting a flying insect out of her mouth. Her hand flew to the side of her head, as it had the entire trip, whenever she had started to get a headache.
Knowing Mrs. Taspen would not get onto the plane until she had won, Bronte offered the trip to the facilities to anyone else. But Mrs. Taspen quickly said no one else needed to follow her.
The teenager jogged to the bathroom. After washing her hands, she looked at her watch and saw that the flight was already delayed fifteen minutes. Bronte ran out of the ladies room to rejoin her group. But they weren’t there. She stood in the now short line to speak to the attendant at the desk. Once Bronte got to the front, she tried to explain her problem of disappearing teachers to the flight attendant who spoke limited English.
“My group is already on the plane.” she said, a little bit louder than what was needed.
“Okay.” the lady said cheerfully.
Bronte was a little surprised that she was so understanding until the lady said, “Ticket, please.”
“No, you see my group is on the plane, and they have my ticket.”
“So you have no ticket?”
“No, I do, but it’s on the plane. All I need you to do, is get ahold of my group, and ask…”
“Look.” the Russian lady cut her short. “I will not have you harassing passengers on this plane. It is not their problem if you didn’t get a ticket. I’m sorry, but no ticket, no plane.”
“Hey! I’m sixteen. I speak no Russian. I am here on a school trip. You can’t just let me be left here in Moscow!”
“Right. Tell me your name.” the short flight attendant asked her impatiently.
“Bronte Prim.”
“Ms. Prim it shows here that a ticket for you was hand delivered about half an hour ago.”
“What? Why?” Bronte asked this, a little scared of what the answer might be.
“Beggars can’t exactly be choosers, can they now?” the attendant quipped. Before Bronte could retaliate, the attendant looked at the ticket and said, “Your flight boards in… seventeen hours.”
Shocked into silence, Bronte accepted the ticket packet from the hurried flight attendant and watched her latch the door behind her, sealing off her safe way back home. Confused, Bronte sat down in an empty chair not far from the one she was in before she was abandoned by her group. Seemingly oblivious to the loud airport noise, she pulled the ticket out of it’s envelope to see who had sent her this timely ticket.
In bold black type was printed:
Departure- Moscow, Russia
Arrival- Yakutsk, Russia
On the back, were the words:
To- Bronte Lauren Prim
From- the G.G.A.
Enjoy your flight, Ms. Prim.
Here's To Being Human 