The Flight of the Gnome

Amelia unzipped the canvas bag, and a sliver of light caused me to squint. Three pairs of legs came into my purview, one sporting denim, another yoga pants, and the last were bare. I knew the smallest of legs were hers from the freckles on her shin. Whining machinery pierced my Gnome ears, and I covered them with my hands. The piercing sound would require adjustment as high frequencies hurt our kind. The stench of sweaty human feet curled into the bag, and I wrinkled my nose. Such is the curse of standing ten inches tall. Amelia had promised she would take me on the family vacation to Florida but should have mentioned we'd be flying in this human-made machine.

Gnomes don't fly. Teleporting is much easier and far more efficient than the archaic methodology of burning fossil fuels in a tubular structure at high risk. Humans are stubborn and worship the inventions they call technology. Most are not good listeners, as we have attempted for centuries to teach them our ways. Men, consumed by the desire for power and control, are incapable. Women, through the ages, were more receptive to our precepts until the phobias of men drowned, burned at the stake, or buried them deep in the Earth. The Global Council of Gnomes banned all human interaction until further notice. They wanted no part in evil. For centuries we have lain idle, observing the demise of humans as the progress they celebrate becomes the tool of their end.

Gnomes travel to wherever we choose, whenever we want. Our species hides in plain sight. The downside is that we have been poked like we're stuffed pets, joked about like we can’t hear, and called creepy. The joy of being peed, vomited, chewed, and pooped on by children, dogs, and cats paled compared to the waterboarding torture of modern washing machines.

Amelia’s hand slipped through the open zipper and touched my cone-shaped head. She whispered, "It's okay, Nome Nome. Don't be scared."

I love this little girl.

The innocence of children is the one saving grace of humanity. Glimmers of Gnome-like honesty and truth shine from their eyes until they are corrupted by the evils that consume the world. Some lose this grace at an early age, some later in life, but rare was the child that survived the onslaught of greed, envy, and lust into adulthood. These dark passions led to lying, stealing, and killing. Amelia was a rare child. As her guardian, my assignment by the Council of Gnomes gave Pixie World hope that a new day was emerging.

I teleported to the cockpit to verify that all was well. The pilot was steadfast at his post. Next, I moved to the galley. Peeking from a curtain under the counter, the flight attendants prepared the snacks and drinks for the passengers. An attendant swept the curtain open to retrieve a box, and her posture stiffened. I froze and presented my best smile. That's what we do. She gasped in shock and said,

"Martha, where did this Gnome come from?"

When she looked up at her friend, I escaped in a blink and left her to explain her insanity.

Last, I focused on the cargo hold. The temperature dropped as I appeared atop a trunk to allow my eyes to adjust to the dark. All seemed well until the movement in the corner caught my eye. At first, a shadow, darker than the dark, glided toward an air vent. I refocused and made out the gnarled shape of a Gremlin. Before I could move to block its path, it chuckled and disappeared into an air duct. Gremlins are the bane of human technology. They hate people and enjoy causing misery wherever they are able. The sniveler’s would exchange life for a laugh any day. The more horrific the event, the louder they laugh, giggle, and celebrate.

Most unexplained accidents are caused by these vermin of the Pixie world. I returned to the carry-on bag under the seat to check on my little girl. I could not allow any harm to come to her. Knowing the Gremlin was up to no good, I knew I had to find him.

I peeked through the zipper. Amelia slurped on a soda.

"Daddy, how much longer?" she said.

"About an hour, sweetheart," her Dad said.

The sweet earthy scent of peanuts filled the air causing my stomach to growl. Gnomes love peanuts. If you drop them on the floor, they will mysteriously disappear. In the old days, the soft nuts were used as trap bait and many a Gnome had been caught and chained to a porch. Desperate to discover the Gremlin's intent, I returned to the cockpit and listened.

"Uh, Captain, we have a fuel pressure drop in the forward starboard engine," the co-pilot said.

"Feather the power and shift propulsion to the rear engines. Keep an eye on it. Let me know if it drops any further," said the Captain. "If it continues, you will need to go below deck to check the direct pressure gauges in the data center."

"You're thinking it's a bad sensor?"

"Yes, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

The interaction told me where to find the Gremlin. The snickering little monsters were lazy and wouldn't risk being exposed on the aircraft's wing.

I blinked my eyes and opened them below deck in the data center of the plane. Red, yellow, and green lights flickered in random sequences. Blue power lights remained constant. I recounted my knowledge from the Gnome Academy on How to catch a Gremlin. I began whistling the theme from their favorite movie, Gremlins. Every Gremlin had watched the film and dreamed of being cast in a remake. They didn't understand that the technology they hated had manufactured the characters. They aren't the most intelligent critters on Earth.

The green, bug-eyed Gremlin, drawn by the tune, staggered onto the metal-decked aisle. His razor-sharp teeth lined his crooked smile like a shark of the sea. He swayed to the tune and grinned like a Hyena that had stumbled on a free dinner in the wild. He touched his chest with his clawed fingers and waved to a phantom crowd thinking he would be the next Gismo. (The star of the film.) You might think the slimy creature had already won an Academy Award, where the audience applauded his acting skills. Just before I clocked him in the head, he blew a frothy kiss to an unknown fan. I bound him and teleported us both to the carry-on to dump him later. Gnomes will not kill any living thing. There's always another way to solve a problem.

Amelia pushed her hand through the open zipper and petted my red-hatted head.

"Nome, Nome. The Captain says we are landing soon. Hope you're not scared. Don't worry, I will keep you safe. I'm going to zip you up until we get to the beach."

The Gremlin squirmed as he regained consciousness, so I clocked him in the head again. Proudly I smiled and stood at my station as the rumble of the landing gears being lowered vibrated the floor. I munched on a peanut dropped from Amelia’s snack into the bag and wondered if I had time to acquire a bag from the galley.

It's been a good day. I have done a Gnome’s duty. Amelia is our hope for the future, and I will always be her protector.