Tears in the Fabric of the Universe by Patrick Astre

Author:Patrick Astre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2016-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Fate

Lieutenant J.G. Dennis Crane, US Navy, knew there was something wrong with the girl. She couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old. The set of her features and blankness of the eyes spoke of a mental disability. Perhaps that's why her words had frightened him much more than he cared to admit, even to himself.

He'd sat on the bench, waiting for the bus that would take him to the airport. The girl was next to her mother and had stared at him. Something seemed to lurk in the child's eyes and it reminded him of what his brother, a medical student, had once told him: Nature compensates. When you lack one of the senses, nature somehow sharpens the others, or makes it up in some form.

The girl had stared at him and said just three words:

You're gonna die

The mother had turned and apologized. She'd tried to shift the girl's attention away, but the child repeated the sentence.

You're gonna die

He couldn't get the words out of his mind, especially now when he would be flying. Of course his fears didn't make any sense. Commercial flights were the safest thing in the US. After all, this was 1963. He was only going from his R & R in Las Vegas to his base in San Diego. Still he'd had this unnatural fear of flying since childhood when his parents had cancelled a vacation because of his terror. He'd never dealt with it, just avoided airplanes.

He'd planned to leave Las Vegas three days earlier, rent a car and drive. But there'd been this young blonde tourist from Utah. He'd met her on the day he was supposed to leave. Killer eyes and a body to match, she'd held the unspoken promise of erotic nights in the city of sin. He'd stayed and she hadn't let him down. But now he had to pay the piper. His orders called for him to report for duty today, and flying was the only way to do it.

He walked to the American Airlines counter and bought his ticket. The airport speakers played the number one hit of the day; "Louie Louie" by the Kingsmen. He tried to sing along but his upper lip shook and he couldn't do it. He checked in his sea bag and kept a small duffle as a carry-on. He took deep breaths and cracked his knuckles to steady his shaking hands. It didn't work.

He remembered an article he'd read in the military newspaper, the Stars and Stripes, about airline safety, about how one day they'd have to search every passenger's bags. Didn't seem possible yet it made sense. He carried a thirty-eight caliber in his own bag. No problem there, he was a naval officer and authorized. But is that how it could end, some nut job with a gun on his airplane?

Half hour before boarding–he felt like running, just get out of the airport, rent a car, report late, it didn't matter. Nothing could be worse than this, or could it?

Dennis went to the airport bar and ordered a double scotch.

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