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© Copyright 2014 Gil McCue.
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isbn: 978-1-4907-3915-1 (e)
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Trafford rev. 06/09/2014
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IT WAS DIFFICULT for me to walk down the narrow isle of that small airplane in my physically fragile condition. If it weren’t for the aide of my cane to support me, it would have been strenuous to get in to the first available isle seat without assistance. Thank God the first available isle seat was unoccupied.
I could hardly lift my luggage bag and force it into the upper bin over my seat. At age forty, I had suffered a significant back injury as the result of a serious accident. The harsh pain from that injury had recently returned to torment me. “May I help you, sir?” inquired the flight attendant with a friendly smile.
I turned my head and politely said, “Thank you, I do need some assistance.” My arms and legs were so weak, I’m afraid this will be the last time I will travel on a plane again. Flying alone is too difficult for someone in my poor health.
Slowly I eased my sore body into the seat, buckled the seatbelt and relaxed. It was a gratifying relief. I never liked flying even when I was young and in good health.
Sitting adjacent to me at the window seat was a strange looking gentleman dressed in the most unusual attire. His clothing appeared to be from an earlier period of time. How unusual it was to see someone dressed in that fashion in this day and age. I also detected a peculiar odor about him. Perhaps it was his clothing.
The flight attendant made a last minute check of each passenger’s seat belt as she magically glided down the isle of the plane.
“I’ll be serving complimentary soft drinks and snacks soon after the plane levels off,” she reported. She smiled once again as she passed my seat on her way toward the rear of the plane.
In short order, I struck up a casual conversation with the oddly dressed man seated adjacent to me. I talked mostly about my health while the stranger said little about himself. In the course of our conversation, I casually mentioned I’d sell my soul to the devil to be young and healthy again. I was a strong swimmer while attending both high school and college. Now, in my golden years, I was barely able to walk down the isle of the airplane.
Having seen the difficulty I had with my luggage, the odd looking gentleman agreed that he would feel the same if he too was in such poor health.
“Since we have adjoining seats for the next hour or so, may I ask your name?”
“Oh, Ron, Ronald Gilbert,” I replied as I unbuckled my seatbelt.
“Ronald Gilbert?” That’s interesting he chuckled.
“Did you know that both your first and last names have common etymological origins?”
“What I’m trying to say is that your first name, “Ronald,” is an Old Norse form of “Reginald”, meaning ‘Strong Ruler’ and “Gilbert” means ‘Bright Wish,” he quoted.
“How interesting,” I noted. I never knew that names had meanings.
“You’re quite a scholar,” I remarked.
“Tell me then, what are your names and their meanings?”
“My first name is “Roy” which means, “King.” “My last name is “Nomed”, which has no historical ethnic or significant meaning that I have been able to research for any definition…but…then…who knows?”
At that moment the flight attendant asked if either of us would like a complimentary soft drink or some snacks.
I replied, “No thank you,” while Roy simply shook his head.
I asked Roy if he had noticed the cheerful smile on the face of our flight attendant as she passed by our seats.
Her smile reminded me of my daughter’s smile when she was young and I’d call her my angel from heaven.
“That attendant has the smile of an angel from heaven,” I suggested.
“The smile of an angel from heaven?” he chuckled.
“When that flight attendant has a day off, she probably walks the streets of Las Vegas with all those other angels in their high heels and hot pants”.
“That angel’s smile can lead the most honest man down a path to hell,” he muttered.
What a degrading expression of prejudgment, I thought.
How could this total stranger utter such a negative remark about a lovely person he knows nothing about? And now, I have the unfortunate experience of having to sit next to him for the remainder of the flight.
After that rude remark, I ended our conversation, closed my tired eyes, buckled the seat belt, and fell into a deep sleep.
––––––—––
The sudden jolt of the airplane landing awakened me only to realize that Roy was not in his seat. As I unbuckled my seatbelt, I noticed that my hands were those of a very healthy young man of twenty years. “I must be dreaming,” I thought as I reached for my luggage in the upper compartment. “Is this your cane next to my luggage?” I addressed a nearby passenger.
Since there was no response to my question, I calmly handed the cane over to the flight
