The Coincidental Way We Met.

A section of my mystery novel.

Mr. Henry saw the back of Charles’ head. He was sitting next to a brown-haired young woman; it must be Charles’ girlfriend, he thought. He did not know anything about Charles’ personal life. The man was a very private person. He hoped that Charles did not recognize him. He pulls his coat closer around him.

Returning to Seattle was risky, but he wanted to go home. He had stayed with his sister in Long Beach for three weeks, and it had been good. Nevertheless, he desired to return to Seattle. His legal troubles should have cleared by now, and he would be safe again. He felt an eager rush of excitement. He wants to start anew and create another business in Seattle. He had a clear plan for starting his next business and connected with a fellow businessman about his plans. He began negations to move his next business endeavor forward. The sight of Charles, only a few rows ahead of him on the flight to SeaTac, stirred a sense of fear in him.

He did not feel he could face the prosecution again and knew it would end in flames if he crossed paths with his legal enemies. He had not talked to Dr. Davis since he left Seattle, and he knew his therapist would want an appointment. He had already received four messages requesting his reply. He had ignored the message. He was doing fine now and getting back on his feet again. He would start his business once again. The previous year’s affairs would disappear, and he would become a new businessman. However, his fingers itched, and he could not wait until he returned to the groove. It had been too long not owning a business for a year and a half.

 Mr. Henry leaned back in his seat. He would not concern himself with the past legal error; all would soon be right. He lay back in the uncomfortable airplane seat and wiggled around in the chair, trying to find a soft place instead of the rigid plastic padding. He did not find comfort in the chair and resigned to the uncomfortable seat. He moves the seat up again and back. He gave up on napping because the seat was too painful to rest. He stared out the small window and saw gray; he turned away from the window. He glances up and sees the young woman standing up and moving down the aisle toward the back of the plane. He turned his head away and scrunched down into his chair. He wanted to avoid being noticed. She walks by him and into the small restroom at the back of the plane.

 He let out a sigh. She had not looked in his direction. He tensely watches Charles not moving and hopes the man will not leave his seat. He knew that once he saw him, Charles would recognize who he was, and he didn’t want that to happen. He closed his eyes. When would this airplane trip be over? The seat belt lights blinked on, and he reached down, searching for his seatbelt. The plane bounces a little more than before. It would be okay, he thought. Once he got home, he could remove himself from the past troubles as quickly as he desired. He would never have to worry again. Seattle was a big place, and he would find another community that didn’t know about his past troubles.

The speaker in the plane crackled an announcement that they were going through some stormy weather, but if everyone followed the safety guidelines, they would all be safe. He stopped listening to the rest of the announcement, was bored by the reminder, and was already buckled in his seat. He didn’t need to worry about this minor issue. He was on a flight back home and felt no closer to a conclusion than when he was back in Long Beach.

 He could not identify his emotions when he closed his eyes, trying to search his thoughts. No! He need not feel he knew clearly want he needed to do and how he would do it. He would go and see Dr. Davis and tell him about his troubles, and then the man would let him go. He knew too well he could use his strength and courage to manipulate the situation to his advantage. He always ends on top. He was a cat with nine lives. This was not the end of Mr. Henry. It was only the beginning of his grand success. He would show those guys how the boss was. He saw the back of Charles’ shiny black head turn in his direction. He bent down for five minutes, searching through his bag. He hoped the man did not spot him. He saw the young woman sitting down next to Charles. He knew now that Charles was not looking for him.

 He laughs at himself for being so scared of the man. He did not even know that he existed. He was completely safe. Another announcement about the storm warning ahead and that all passengers should buckle their seat belts. He ignored the rest of the information. When would this plane arrive at SeaTac? That was all he cared about. He felt a rising irritation. The plane bounced up and down. The seatbelt light glowed overhead. He sat waiting impatiently for the light to go off. He knew that if he stood up, Charles might see him. He leans back in the uncomfortable chair, waiting for the flight to end.

  The loudspeaker blared: “We are sorry for the inconvenience; however, with this flight’s weather conditions, the plane has to make an emergency detour to Las Vegas, Nevada. This will only be a momentary stop on our trip back to Seattle”.

 What! He jerked in his seat. They weren’t supposed to stop in Nevada! He felt a rush of anger running through his veins. He heard people murmuring on the plane. Again, the announcement apologizes for the detour and how the next flight to SeaTac would only be delayed momentarily. Again, he felt a rush of anxiety he would have to find another flight home. He heard himself speaking angrily to the flight attendant, who limply apologized for the inconvenience.

He was seeing red. He forgot about his fear of Charles spotting him. He wants everyone to know how unhappy he feels about this crappy flight system. He entered the busy airport and felt angry that he needed to get out of this place. He entered the hot, humid air outside and wandered down the cement. His mind was wasting time. He sat on the bus stop bench and stared into the ugly landscape.

 He did not want to be here at this moment. He knew this trip was a risk and a wild desire. He should have stayed in Long Beach with his sister Louise. He knew he could have stayed longer; his sister lived alone in a small house with her poodle. She liked having someone to diligently care for. He knew all too well he would have been safe with his sister. However, his desire for aggression and excitement always overtook him, and he wanted to return to work again. His sister’s quiet and peaceful life didn’t suit him at all. Even though he complains about his high blood pressure and his anger issues, he likes to live on the edge. He enjoys the feel of exploding with a rag. His anger always got him what he wanted. He felt powerful. Most of the time, he felt vulnerable and never liked feeling weak.

 The bus arrived, and he left the airport behind him. It stopped in front of a small strip mall. He walks towards the Burger and Fry’s restaurant. He entered the hot, steamy restaurant, which smelled of grease and beef. He ordered himself a cheeseburger and curly fries. He ate it all in a matter of minutes. He did not realize that he was so hungry. He leaned back in the small booth. The weight of the events weighed heavily on him. He knew all too well that the chance of himself getting home was not happening.

Outside, the planning sunset was in the sky as Mr. Henry wandered through the small shopping mall. The loud empty noise of the mall had calmed his shattered nerve ends. It distracts him from the worries that spun in his head and the rising feeling that he was unsafe in this place. He felt another rush of regret flow over his body. He should have stayed in Long Beach, where he was safe.

 The dead air of the bus filled his sense of smell, and he felt dead inside. He felt like someone was watching him, and he shook it off. It was only his shattered nerves. He turns around, and his eyes land on the figure of Charles and that young woman waiting for the flight. Then he felt a cold, sharp pain in his side and the weight of another body pressing against him; he struggles to get free. The grip holds him tight, and the pain increases with each rising moment.

Finally, he is freed and turned around to find no one. He feels an increasing disorientation. His throat closed, and his thoughts spun with each racing heartbeat. He reached down, and his side was wet. He didn’t think he sweated that much on his walk around the strip mall. He raised his hand; it was covered in red blood. He will wait for the plane to arrive soon, and the bleeding will slow. He just needed to get back to Seattle. He would wait; he would make it. The airport’s loud noise decreased, and everything seemed peacefully quiet. He would walk over to the line. He would be on the plane in no time. Then the world spun away—his feet gave out and… He heard a vague noise.