The Z Contingency

Chapter 22

"This is the final boarding call for Alaska Flight 745 for Seattle Tacoma International Airport, departing from gate B33."

Gary approached the gate just as the attendant finished delivering her message. That was cutting it close. There's probably no way I'm going to find an overhead for my bag. He hurriedly pulled up the boarding pass on his smartphone app, and passed the screen under the scanner. As the gate attendant motioned him through the gate, he ran down the jetway to the waiting Boeing 737-MAX-8. Upon entering the aircraft, Gary paused a moment to catch his breath and headed down the aisle past the flight attendant who greeted him. 30D... 30D. Great. I'm all the way in the back; I'll get whiplash when we hit turbulence.... I guess that beats getting sucked out of the plane if I sit closer to an exit.... At least it's an aisle seat.

Gary made his way to row 30, and got settled in for the long flight back to Seattle. After fastening his seat belt, he silently gave thanks that no one was seated next to him, and mentally prepared himself for the long day ahead. Six hour flight to SeaTac, catch a cab to the Mukilteo Ferry, over to Clinton, another cab to Keystone, ferry to Port Townsend, and another cab to Carlsborg... or maybe I'll do a one-way rental. I could drive south from SeaTac on I-5, and straight on up the 101.

It had been several years since he last headed back to the Northwest, and even longer since he'd gone home to Carlsborg, or anywhere on the Olympic Peninsula, for that matter. As the plane reached cruising altitude, Gary drifted off to sleep with images from the times he had been home flitting through his subconscious mind. The last time he had been home... a return after graduation from Harvard... Christmas vacations... the wedding of his best friend from high school, and back through to his early childhood.

Gary awoke to the beverage service cart bumping his knee. He ordered a cranberry juice. Lots of antioxidants....

After finishing his drink, Gary resumed mulling over his travel plans. He hadn't been hiking in a long while, and his muscles would probably regret doing so, but he had been wanting to spend some time in the wilderness, and the Olympic National Park was perfect for this. It would probably be a two or three day hike in, but it should be a quiet, secluded camping spot once he got there. He had originally planned on visiting his parents, but when he had called, he learned that they were going to be visiting his brother in Canada. What lousy timing, but I guess I can get in more backpacking. I'll stop by an REI store and pick up a few supplies before heading over to the Peninsula, and up to the Staircase entrance of the Park.

Satisfied with his new plan, Gary's mind gradually started drifting off to a calm, semiconscious state again, in spite of the boy in the window seat who kept kicking the back of the seat in front of him. At one point the passenger in that seat turned around to glare at Gary. He was a balding, heavy-set man in a business suit who looked to be in his late-50's, but was probably younger. Gary was uncertain whether it was due to anger at the boy kicking his seat or from a tie that was too tight, but even in the dimly-lit cabin, Gary could see that his face was red. He held up his palms in a gesture of helplessness, and mouthed a "not my kid" at the now-irate man, before silently giving thanks that the kid was not seated right next to him. With this last thought his eyes closed and his mind drifted off to thoughts about his own childhood.

His parents had both been hippies, but of the more pragmatic sort; they believed in living in harmony with nature, but they also recognized the need for government services, and the benefits of formal educations, so unlike many others who had less practical perspectives on communing with nature, both of Gary's parents actually held graduate degrees, and were gainfully employed by the National Forest Service at the Olympic National Forest; his dad was a forester, and his mom a botanist.