Introduction:

While en route for a summer vacation with his grandparents in Florida, 13-year-old Brandon McCann mysteriously disappears from the baggage reclaim area at Orlando International Airport.

Word Count: 1,379

Member Cents: 77


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An announcement transmitted over the intercom. A welcoming voice, one that painted the illusion of a broad smile on the face of the speaker, warmly said, "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. This is your pilot Jonathan Spencer and the local time is 1:08pm. The sun is shining brightly as we begin our descent into Orlando International Airport. I just thought I'd take this opportunity to let you know that in fifteen minutes I'll set you at the terminal gate. Once again, thank you for flying Southwest Airlines Flight 1618 and have a phenomenal day!" Then the effervescent voice was gone.

Thirteen-year-old Brandon McCann sensed the colossal bird begin its smooth descent. He yawned with his mouth wide opened as he stretched his arms over his blond head. His hands clinched in tight fists. Brandon's short catnap energized him. He was glad he was afforded a window seat by the airline for the lengthy flight from his hometown of Bangor, Maine.

Flying solo did not bother Brandon. He had done so before. In fact, Brandon traveled this journey all by himself for the last three summers. He felt the amicable people at Southwest always attended him well. This excursion was no different.

As Brandon stirred in his seat, he grew more excited about visiting his grandparents. He always spent many enjoyable hours on their farm. There were horses to ride, especially Desorno, his favorite chestnut. Not only that, there were cows to milk, eggs to gather, henhouses to raid, and hay to jump in.

A quarter mile from the O'Neil's spread was Anderson Lake where Brandon learned to swim when he was five years old. He could deer hunt in the woods past the lake. That's where Brandon tagged his first buck two years ago. The creature was a nice four-point whitetail, sport killed. Grandpa Mike always allowed him to shoot his old long barrel rifle. He could even fish. A plethora of times he'd brought dinner home on the end of his stringer. Brandon knew there was a surplus of activities to occupy his every waking moment.

However, Brandon wasn't sure he wanted to encounter any alligators. He remembered what his Grandma Betsy told him, "Expect to find at least one bull gator in every body of water you dive into in the state of Florida. And, whatever you do, leave them alone. Do not feed them. Little boys are one of their tastiest snacks."

Brandon thought his grandma was only trying to scare the life out of him with her warning. Still, he was not going to take any chances, or try to pet an alligator, if he found one sunbathing on a leisurely afternoon. Brandon focused out the window next to his seat. There he observed blue skies and fluffy white clouds of different shapes and sizes. He imagined one looked like an elephant. There was even one that appeared to possess a lion's mane.

The old man seated next to him wearing bib overalls whispered, "This is Florida. Give it a chance, it'll rain."

Dejected by what he was told, Brandon felt his shoulders sag low. The prospect of rain was definitely not in his forecast as the plane lightly touched down on Runway 12B. A slight bump was felt as the aircraft's wheels seized the tarmac.

This was Brandon's most favorite part of flying. He loved to watch the terminal whiz by as the plane decelerated and dropped him off at the proper terminal. He, along with 367 other passengers, that was. Brandon calculated they must be travelling at least a thousand miles per hour.

Contented with his mischievousness, the old codger faced forward in his seat. A sly smile creased his wrinkled face. The reaction of the youngster perched next to him once again proved his theory of how gullible little boys are.

A petite, fiery-redheaded stewardess approached Brandon. He knew her name was Becky. They'd talked several times during the flight. She'd brought him four Cokes and extra bags of peanuts to chomp on. She'd also served him his lunch consisting of a ham and cheese sandwich on white bread, an apple, and a piece of chocolate cake. Brandon liked Becky, and her flight attendant outfit. His hormones raged.

"Oh, to be a few years older," Brandon thought to himself, "then Becky and I could ooh la la!"

"You naughty boy," Becky affably rebuked him as if she could read his mind. It was the expression on Brandon's impish face that betrayed him.

"Now that we have arrived at Terminal B are you ready to exit the plane?" Becky questioned him.

As did all the other commuters, once the plane rolled to a complete halt, Brandon rose to his sneaker-clad feet. He answered Becky's question with, "I don't have anything but my iPad."

"Nothing in the overhead compartment?" Becky asked him to insure the boy wasn't forgetting any of his personal belongings.

"Nope. I checked everything through when I got on the plane," Brandon assured her.

"Got your claim ticket handy?" Becky wanted to know.

Brandon pulled the eggshell-colored stub out of the pocket of his plaid shirt and showed it to Becky saying, "I put it right here so I wouldn't lose it."

"Okay, Brandon, if you're all set then we can proceed down to the baggage reclaim area and retrieve your suitcase," Becky told him.

Patiently, they waited for several passengers in front of them to disembark the plane's cabin. There was no need to push and shove their way through. Lingering also provided the two of them more time to chit chat. Brandon enjoyed that.

Finally, they entered the passenger boarding bridge that led from the plane to the concourse. Becky accompanied Brandon down a long corridor on an escalator. They descended a flight of stairs and rode a second escalator to the baggage reclaim area.

Brandon's brown leather suitcase would arrive on Carousel Three. He kept watching the apparatus slowly rotate around knowing he would spot his luggage right away. He couldn't miss the bag. It had a wolf's head imprinted on its front part.

"Becky! Becky Johnson! How's you doing?" an elderly grey-black porter with snow-white hair called to her.

Having not spoken to Otis Mills for a couple of weeks, Becky turned her head in his direction, her attention diverted for a moment to respond to his question. She knew it was her responsibility to not take her eyes off Brandon until she'd safely delivered him to his grandparents anxiously awaiting his arrival at the gate. She had escorted several young fliers before. When Becky turned back to where Brandon was supposed to be, all she noticed was his suitcase riding around on the carousel.

In a crowded airport, among a massive horde of humanity scurrying about in a multitude of different directions, Brandon McCann vanished.



Cast of Characters:

Brandon McCann - 13-year old boy from Bangor, Maine. Vanishes at the baggage reclaim area of the Orlando International Airport.

Mike O'Neil - Brandon McCann's maternal grandfather.

Betsy O'Neil - Brandon McCann's maternal grandmother.

Becky Johnson - Flight attendant assigned to escort Brandon safely to his grandparents waiting for him at the passenger arrival gate.

Jonathan Spencer - Pilot of Southwest Flight 1618.

Otis Mills - Porter, distracted Becky Johnson immediately before Brandon McCann disappeared.

Unnamed old man - predicted rain in Brandon's future.