Transmission

For Belle's 'On the Street' Challenge:

Report of Pilot, Captain Y. M. Raughtel:

This might be my final report. I seem to have landed in the most barren patch of nothing imaginable. There is nothing but desert as far as the mind can conceive. And I think that my mind is losing its ability to see and hear what is real and what I've only imagined. Am I really alone out here?

I heard...laughter.

For the last week, I have heard the laughter of what I thought was just one child. After the landing, I checked my supplies, radio, engine and equipment, and was disturbed by the fact that I had leaked oil (how could they not give me enough for such a long flight, I thought). And then, coming from a distance, I heard it.

A child was giggling away in the distance.

Strange now to think of that fact. All these dunes running off into the middle of nothing, and I somehow managed to hear that child's voice. I almost headed off to do a little reconnaissance and searching, but I knew the first rule of desert life: save your strength and try not to sweat. It only lasted one night and I managed to ignore it while trying to find a radio signal in this emptiness. And then things changed...

As is probably clear by now, no one responded to my calls, but the voices did continue. It was always laughter, and the mix between boys and girls was beginning to disturb me...especially when I began to realize I knew the voices quite well.

They were the children...I grew up with in my neighbourhood.

Robbie, Gloria and Sam would come over on weekends and we spent endless hours in the forests near our homes, climbing trees, building shelters, finding trails...being children. And telling jokes.

That was clearly the laughter I heard over the last week.

Now, from what I have read and understood about the human mind - damn lucky to have studied this to prep for the flight - you can imagine anything when you are in isolation, waiting for any sort of contact. But there is one other issue that I cannot explain.

The knocking.

The shelter had to be struck after the first night as I realized that I was making myself a target for whatever animal needed shelter...or food. And it then it became clear that the animals would not be just snakes and rodents.

Someone kept tapping on the plane.

That was another game we played. You played hide and go seek, and had to tap on the home base - the hollowed log - that was where we started. Robbie would always get there first. Sam was totally hopeless (always last). And Gloria always held my hand as we made it back. It was her voice that I heard first; her still perfect laughter...

The same exact tone and pitch...

The same...everything.

So, I am now using the plane as sleeping quarters and have removed some of the back seats for extra space. It is not too uncomfortable, although I would not recommend it over a good sleeping bag and a tent in a more secure area.

And I have found the earplugs I thought would only be used for flights.

As I said, there was knocking, and now, it has only grown in pitch and intensity.

Strange thing is that I wake up every day, look at the radio counter, and then stare off at the expanse of sand around me.

No footprints.

My mind tells me that this is sensible; my heart is telling me that I am not alone.

So, with my supplies and the hope that things will improve, I intend to head off tomorrow morning to see what lies on the horizon. I must remind myself to not go too far and that I really am doing this for more food and water, not to find the source of the sounds in my imagination.

I wonder what I will find...

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