Homeward Bound

It was the last flight out of Dallas that night. The cold front from up north had delayed every departure by several hours and Ender was eager to escape the wall-slouching zombies pacing the halls of DFW and waiting for their golden ticket home. Normally, he wouldn’t be the first to board and would hang back to minimize his time in the cramped arial tin can sharing breathing space with the stranger next to him and awkwardly stuffing his 6’1 body into the torturous 45’ angle of the economy seats. But today he was first in the queue, his grip on the handle of his bag vice-like.

His trip to Dallas had been brief, but fruitful. He’d been in town to see his father in hospice for most likely the last time. His relationship with his father was chilly at best and his impetus for weekly therapy sessions at its worst. But every dying man deserves a last goodbye. Ender himself was hoping for some level of closure on the trip, if only subconsciously. And although there was no dramatic apology or tearful revelations of what should have been, his father had, for the first time in his life, admitted he was proud of his boy.

The line snaking into the plane was stagnant and the air in the jet bridge held the weight of the impending storm like a steam room. Ender checked his watch and sighed. At least they were moving forward step by step. He absent-mindedly rubbed the watchband on his wrist and imagined a similar leather band adorning his father’s wrist. In the years that his father was absent from their family portraits, Ender conjured up images of what he might have been like. He knew he handled contracts or something for the oil industry, trading in blood money and 3-martini lunches. He was successful and well-respected, but Ender only knew that from the Bloomberg articles written about him. He was mythic and elusive, and none of those articles ever touched what Ender really wanted to know. Did he ever miss his family? Did he regret leaving? Why didn’t he come back?

As Ender ducked into the plane, the static of the captain’s announcement buzzed across the intercom. Standard instructions and preparation for what might be a bumpy flight.

“We may encounter some rough air heading out of Dallas. I’ll do my best to keep the flight smooth for ya’ll but do me a favor and keep your seatbelts on until I’ve turned off the light.” The captain drawled, clearly a native of the Lone Star State.

Ender found his seat just behind the exit row and shuffled in, tossing his overnight bag in the bin with ease. He was soon joined by an elderly woman with heron-grey hair and a white cable-knit sweater, gingerly lowering herself into the middle seat.

“Would you like the window ma’am? I’d be happy to switch with you,” Ender offered.

“Oh no young man, that’s alright. I prefer to be packed in tight on a bumpy flight. Makes me feel like I’m less likely to float away,” the woman winked and settled into her seat.

Ender wasn’t one for small talk but there was something drawing him to the woman that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Her voice lacked the tell-tale Texas lilt, so he didn’t think she was local. They were on their way to Cincinnati, but she didn’t strike him as a Midwest native. She had an unspoken elegance that reminded him of Old New York. Maybe a former Broadway actress. Or an heiress taking up residence in the West Village. Something not born of cornfields and low-slung telephone wires.

“Are you headed home?” Enders asked as he rearranged his backpack under the seat.

The woman smiled wanly. “In a way. When you get to be my age, its hard to tell what’s home anymore.”

I already feel that way and she has four decades on me at least, Ender thought.

“In Texas for family then?” Ender could hardly control his own prying questions.

“Yes. My son, he’s not doing well. He probably doesn’t have much longer with us, I’m sorry to say. You never think as a mother that you’ll be burying your babies before you.”

Her tone was wistful, but strangely absent of emotion. It was as if this news was a long time coming.

“I was just visiting my father in hospice. It’s hard to see people we once saw as so strong start to shrink,” Ender admitted.

He kept his eyes on the tray table locked in place in front of him. Maybe it was the lateness of the evening, or his hours spent pacing the airport floor awaiting his departure, but he felt vulnerable with this woman.

She smiled at him, and stared for a moment longer than was comfortable at the side of Ender’s face. He felt himself blush subconsciously.

“Yes, death has a way of leveling the playing field for all of us. Believe it or not, I used to be a Rockette!” The woman laughed and her eyes grew misty once more.

“You know, you seem like a dancer. You seem very graceful,” Ender said.

“Well aren’t you a charmer. That one might just be due to age. When your body starts slowing down the only skill you have left to hone is patience.” She winked.

“Now that’s something I could use more of. I actually came here hoping to get some sort of closure form my father. But maybe I was expecting too much too soon. I think my patience with him ran out a long time ago.” Ender confided.

The woman’s face dropped for a moment and Ender worried something he said had upset her.

“I just mean we have a complicated history,” Ender hastily explained.

“I don’t know anything about your family. But if I could give you one piece of unwarranted advice from one old soul, don’t let time make a fool of you. When the end of the rope gets shorter I think we have a tendency to cling more tightly to it. But even death can’t change some things about a person. A mule will always be a mule, no matter the pasture he’s in.” The woman adjusted her purse strap and looked away towards the door of the plane.

Ender paused and contemplated her riddle. He’d not heard that turn of phrase before, but something about it resonated with him. Maybe he was giving his father too much grace. After all, he’d never proven himself worthy of Ender’s forgiveness in his living days so far.

“What did you say your name was again?” Ender asked softly.

“Oh, I don’t believe I did. I’m Alice. Alice Wheatley,” she said.

Ender’s eyebrows shot up in immediate recognition and surprise. Wheatley was a name he hadn’t heard in a long time and the resonance of it shook something loose within him.

“You son, is his name Henry?” Ender asked quickly, his eyes searching for her weathered face.

For a moment, Alice’s face mirrored his own surprise. “Yes, it is. Henry Wheatley.” Alice cocked her head to the side and stared with renewed intensity at Ender’s face, recognition beginning to break through the polite small talk of conversation with a stranger.

“I’m Ender. Ender Wheatley. Henry is my father.” Ender clasped his fingers together briskly, sweat beginning to form in his palms.

“Ender. I like that name. It’s a shame this is our first time meeting.” Alice smiled faintly and continued to hold his gaze.

“What a weird coincidence. My father left us when I was very young. That’s probably why.” Ender explained, still reeling from the shock of such a serendipitous meeting.

“Henry was never good at holding down a job, let alone a family. Shame.” Alice shook her head for a moment, her gaze trailing to her purse.

At that moment the pilot’s voice crackled over the speaker system once more.

“Ladies and gentleman, we have just closed the cabin doors. Please ensure your seatbelts are buckled, your tray table is in its upright and locked position, and your carry-ons are stowed for take-off. We’ll have you on the ground in Cincinnati soon.”

“Is Cincinnati home for you, Ender?” Alice said as the pilot’s voice crackled off.

“It is. For now at least,” Ender said.

“I know a great martini lounge on McMillan. Would you care to join me for a drink sometime?” Alice smiled, the lines around her mouth erasing into a genuine grin for the first time.

“I would love to, Alice. I’d never turn down a drink with a former Rockette.” Ender winked and a surge of emotion rushed through him, causing a prick of tears to jump just behind his eyes.

Alice held his gaze and nodded once, a decision made.

As the plane rumbled down the runway, Ender glanced out the window and saw a vein of lightning illuminate the cityscape of downtown Dallas. He was finally headed home.