ATLAS 776

7

Marx slammed on the cubicle door with his hands, which sent the plastic door flying inwards with a loud smack.

The cubicle was empty. Marx then proceeded to push the other cubicles open, panic increasing with each empty cell before him. The plane rumbled and shook, but Marx did not care. If anything, the storm was making him more anxious.

Marx reached a locked cubicle, indicated by a red strip in the hole. Marx immediately knocked on the door. "Honey, are you in there?" He said, relaxing a little with a glimmer of hope.

There was no response.

Marx shouted. "Hey, are you in there!"

A nearby stewardess from the staff compartment overheard him, and came over. "Sir, you need to stay seated for the duration of the-"

"My wife is in there!" Marx retorted. He held his hands on the door, and started to cry. His head bent down on the door.

"Sir, if your wife is in there she is safe. Our restrooms are built with turbulence handles. We need you to get back to your seat." The stewardess said, as she placed her right hand on his shoulder.

Marx could not calm himself down. Thoughts were flooding his mind. His wife was missing. If not for the absence of Adrianna's personal items such as her earpieces and backpack, Marx would not have been so worried. He would think that she had merely gone to the restroom. But the reality was otherwise as such. Nothing of Adrianna's was found, and Marx had searched the entire seat row. Even the magazines and brochures in the seating pouch were stacked neatly, as though nobody had took them out, or even touched them.

Marx refused to move. The passengers in both cabins beside the restrooms heard the commotion as well, and some turned their heads to see what was going on.

"Look... It's locked. There is someone in there. I just need to check if the person is my wife." Marx said, gulping.

The stewardess knocked on the door once more. "Sorry, is there someone inside?" she asked, with a soft and polite tone.

There was no response.

The plane started to shake even more violently in the storm. The sounds of the water jugs shaking and the metal pieces rumbling could be heard.

Another stewardess from the curtains came in and pulled the stewardess away by her arm. Moments later she came back, and folded her arms, leaning her body on a wall. "Look, sir. I don't know who you are, but you should stop playing this anymore." She said, with a firm tone, eyes staring.

Marx was in a mix of emotions. "I just want to find my wife, God damn it!" He retorted.

"You came alone. I was the one who served your dinner. You were the only one who was in row fifty six." The Stewardess replied.

"You think this is funny?" Marx asked back. His face was full of tears. His eyes were a crimson red. He was not in the right state of mind.

The stewardess breathed out hard, while she rolled her eyes. "That door was locked since the start of the flight. She can't be in there."

Marx immediately turned away, and started to run down the aisle towards the back of the cabin. All the passengers looked at him on the way.

"Sir... You can't-" The stewardess shouted.

Marx ran down the cabins, ignoring everything and everyone else.

A man in a black jacket stood up from his seat, and immediately intercepted Marx, as he placed his hand on Marx's chest to stop him. "Where do you think you are running to, sir?" The man said in a low, firm tone.

The stewardess caught up to the pair. "This man thinks that his wife is somewhere else on board this flight. He came alone." She said, while she caught her breath.

Marx breathed hard, and tried to speak. "My wife... I need..."

"Calm down, calm down. Take it easy. Breathe in." The man said as he stroked Marx's chest. "Now. What do you need to do?"

"I need to find my wife... She might be in other restrooms..." Marx gasped.

"Calm down Sir. I am a flight Marshall. I will help you find your wife. I need you to go back to your seat, and wait the storm out, okay? We are thousands of metres above the ground. Your wife is not going anywhere." The Marshall said.

Marx controlled his breathing. "Okay... Okay... Please help me."

The marshall nodded. "Now can I trust that you return to your seat peacefully?" The marshall said.

Marx nodded a few times.

"I'll get him back to his seat and watch him." The stewardess said, as she walked him away.