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The words are: Airplane; Rug; Blue; Rumpled; Peaches; Ruined; Lost; Saved; Torn; Memories; Broken Hearted; Loved; Flowered; Lived; Poetic.
UPDATE!!! I won the contest!!! You can view my short story at GoodReads http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1433212-winning-word-bank-story - Or simply read it here since you're already here.
Hope you enjoy.
JACK IN THE BOX
We’d been sitting on the tarmac at L.A.X. for nearly an hour, all because a dead body had fallen out of one of the overhead compartments when we landed.
No one was allowed to exit the airplane until every single passenger and flight crew member had been questioned thoroughly by the L.A.P.D. detective leading the investigation. His name was Gough, Vincent Gough, middle name -- you guessed it – Van. Who would name their kid Vincent Van Gough? Funny, but the first thing I looked for when he stood in the aisle at the front of the plane introducing himself, was his ears. He had both of them. He also happened to be wearing the most obvious rug on top of his head I’d ever seen. It was a cross between Donald Trump and Adolph Hitler, and looked like he’d went swimming in it and just let it dry naturally without combing it. And – it was “Lucille Ball” red. He also had one of those roving eyes. You know the kind I mean, where you aren’t sure which eye to look at when he’s talking to you. Between the eye and hairpiece, I was very distracted when it finally came my turn to be interrogated. I was “witness number 78” out of 217 waiting to be questioned.
“Please state your name and seat number.” Detective Gough said, before I was even settled into one of the two flight attendant rumble seats facing one another.
“Steve Douglas, seat 78-A” I said, as I scrunched into the seat opposite Detective Gough. With both of us sitting facing each other our knees nearly touched. Detective Gough had an electronic tablet roughly the size of a hardback book balanced on his lap taking notes.
“Like the father in My Three Sons?” Gough asked.
That old TV sitcom was before my time but I’d seen reruns on Nick at Night. So I knew who he was talking about.
“Yes.” I replied. “My dad’s name is Oliver Wendle Douglas like Green Acres.” I said joking, but he acted like he didn’t get the joke.
“Mr. Douglas this is a serious matter.” He said sternly.
“Sorry.” I said, although I really wasn’t.
“Now tell me,” he began, “Did you board the flight at its original take off point in Raleigh, North Carolina or did you board at the two-hour layover in Dallas?”
Apparently he’d already been told about the layover in Dallas.
“No I boarded in Raleigh.” I replied.
“I understand the deceased also boarded in Raleigh according to his ticket found in his pants pocket. Do you recall seeing him board the plane in Raleigh?”
“I don’t remember seeing him, but if you say he did I’ll take your word for it.”
“You did get a look at his face when he fell partially out of the overhead compartment didn’t you?”
“Well yes I did.” I said. “It was hard not to. He sprang halfway out like a jack-in-the-box and just sort of bobbled there above the seats.”
“And you were sitting where, in conjunction to the body?” Detective Gough asked, although he already knew the answer.
“I was sitting two rows back on the opposite side of the aisle.”
“So you had an excellent view?”
“Yeah you could say that.”
“So in your own words, tell me what happened.”
“Well, we had just landed, the pilot was still giving his ‘Welcome to sunny Los Angeles – hope you enjoyed your flight’ speech when suddenly out of blue the compartment door flew open and out pops a guy in a rumpled suit.”
“What happened next?” Gough asked.
“Gasps and screams.” I replied. “The old lady sitting next to me was in the process of putting away a small container of peaches she’d half eaten, when Jack popped out, she yelped and threw the opened can of fruit all over me.”
“Is that what those stains are on the front of your pants?” Gough asked, smiling, his eyes looking at my crotch and somewhere over my shoulder at the same time. “I hope they’re not ruined.” He added.
“I’m sure they’ll wash out okay.” I said, squirming a little as he continued looking at my crotch with one of his eyes. I didn’t know if it was the good one or the bad one, but it was creeping me out a little.
“According to the seating chart that was provided to me, the person sitting directly below the deceased was a Miss Hampstead, traveling alone, I see from my notes. Did you happen to recall seeing her seated to your right and two rows up?”
“No not really.” I said. As I replied to his question I leaned to my right in order to look down the aisle to see if I could catch a glimpse of her. What I saw was a pair of gorgeous legs extended out into the aisle wearing a pair of red four-inch heels.
“The reason I’m asking about her,” Gough continued, “is because she apparently boarded in Dallas and the seat she is sitting in was supposed to be occupied by a Mr. D.u.v.e.t. pronounced Do-Vay. Her seat was supposed to be the one you occupied Mr. Douglas. You were supposed to be sitting in first-class and yet you were sitting in coach. Can you tell me why the musical chairs? Why isn’t anyone in their assigned seats? So far, I haven’t located or spoken with this Mr. Duvet. I’m assuming he’ll show up in one of the seats I haven’t gotten to yet. By the way, the deceased’s name is Jason Oglethorpe. Did you know him?”
“No.” I replied, shaking my head.
“So once again, why was everyone sitting in the wrong assigned seats?”
At that point Detective Gough apparently felt a sneeze coming on and reached into his front breast pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. Quickly putting it to his face, he let out a series of the loudest sneezes I’d ever heard. When he finally finished with his sneezing fit, I noticed his toupee had slipped forward a bit and there was now a thick cowlick of it sticking straight up like three-inch bright red horn! Of course he didn’t realize it, and I must admit I almost lost it right then. It was all I could do to refrain from laughter. What made it even funnier was the serious expression Detective Gough maintained on his face. I knew I needed to concentrate on his question so I closed my eyes as if I were recalling the events that led up to the seating arrangements.
“It’s true I was originally sitting in first class.” I said. “But there was a “celebrity” I said using finger quotation marks in the air, “with her two bratty kids up there, and she wouldn’t make an effort to control them. Rather than complaining, which I knew because of her status, wouldn’t do any good, I simply strolled back to coach and found an empty seat and took it. I know it was wrong, and now of course I wish I’d never done it. I did ask the old lady next to me if the seat was saved and she told me it wasn’t.”
I opened my eyes and saw Detective Gough typing my statement into his electronic notebook. When he finished, he said that was all he had for me for the time being and told me I could return to my seat. When I asked which one, he said the one in coach and added, “Please don’t make any more seat switches until I’m though with my investigation. I may want to ask you some more questions. And could you please tell the passenger in the seat next to yours to come on up”
I said I would and promised to behave getting up from the cramped rumble seat I made my way down the aisle to my seat next to Old Lady Peaches . I couldn’t help but stare at Ms. Hampstead, or more so her legs. As I passed by her on the way to my seat, our eyes met and I for a moment I felt as if she were trying to communicate to me telepathically. She smiled as her eyes road up and down my body, stopping only a fraction of a second at front stain on my pants. When I reached my seat and was sitting down, I noticed she was still staring back at me. I swear she pursed her lips and air-kissed in my direction.
“He’s ready for you.” I told the old lady, while keeping my eye on Ms. Hampstead. As soon as she had ambled up the aisle toward Detective Gough, Ms. Legs uh, I mean Ms. Hampstead, got up from her seat and came back to where I sat. “Is this seat taken?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I stammered, “Well…uh…no not at the moment…but that detective said we should remain in our seats and not move about.”
“Oh Wally won’t mind.” She said, squeezing between my knees and seat in front of me and plopping down beside me.
“Wally?” I asked.
“Wall-eyed Wally.” She said, nodding toward the front of the cabin.
“Oh of course,” I said, smiling.
“So how’d it go?” she asked, referring to my interrogation.
“It was okay.” I said. “He seemed to be concerned as to why you and I were out of our assigned seats. I told him my excuse. What’s yours?” I asked.
She hesitated before answering. “I’m…let’s say avoiding someone.” She said.
“Do you know the dead guy?” I asked.
“No.” She answered. But something told me she wasn’t being truthful.
“I can’t believe they haven’t removed the body yet.” I said, looking toward Jack-in-the Box, although he was now discretely covered with a blanket provided by one of the flight attendants.
“I guess they’re waiting until we’re all allowed off the plane.” Ms. Hampstead said. “By the way, my name’s Christine, she added, extending her well-manicured nailed hand out to me.
“It’s nice to meet you Christine.” I said, shaking her hand. “I’m Steve. What brings you to L.A.?”
“A modeling job.” She replied.
“You’re a model? I might have guessed.”
“And what about you?” she asked.
“I’m on a business trip.” I said. “I’m a diamond broker.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly. “A girl’s best friend.” She said smiling.
I wastornbetween wanting to get to know this beautiful woman better and running in the opposite direction from someone who might just want to get to know me because of my profession.
“Would you like something to drink or a snack?” One of flight attendants asked, snapping me out of my daze. I hadn’t noticed her and the other attendant pushing carts up the aisle. I had been focused on Christine Hampstead.
“Yes!” I said. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, and you? I asked turning toward Christine. “Make mine vodka and seven if you have it,” she replied.
The attendant made our drinks and passed them to us. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She said. “I apologize for the delay.”
“So who are you avoiding?” I asked when the attendant had moved on.
“What?”
“You said you were avoiding someone.” I reminded her of what she’d said earlier.
“Oh that, just bad memories I guess. Not anyone in particular.”
“But you said someone. When I asked why you had changed seats you said let’s say I was avoiding someone.”
“I just misspoke.” Christine said. I had the feeling she wasn’t going to elaborate.
Just then Old Lady Peaches approached.
“Oh…” she said at the sight of Christine now in her seat.
Christine made apologies and got up to give the seat back. That’s when I noticed it. There was a look that passed between Old Lady Peaches and Christine that told me they knew each other. Something wasn’t right but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Every five or ten minutes someone would file up the aisle toward the front of the cabin to take their turn at being questioned by Detective Gough. Meanwhile I sat pretending to read a book, but in reality I was trying to figure out in my head what connection Christine and the lady sitting next to me had to each other. I didn’t see a resemblance, so I assumed they weren’t mother and daughter. Secret lovers? I shuddered at the thought. Even a guy’s fantasies about lesbian lovers has its limits. The age difference was too much. Simply friends? Could be, but I really didn’t get that impression. Yet there was definitely something between them. I knew in my gut I was right about that. Was the dead guy somehow connected to these to women? If so how? He appeared to be somewhere in age between Old Lady Peaches and Christine. So, he couldbe the boyfriend or husband of either of them. Perhaps he had left one of them broken hearted, and now whichever one it was had gotten her revenge. But whichever one of them did it, how did they manage to get him lifted up and stuffed inside the overhead compartment? I would loved to have seen that.
I looked up from my book realizing I hadn’t turned a page in about ten minutes. Old Lady Peaches was reading a People magazine. I also realized that I was still thinking of her as Old Lady Peaches, it was time I found out what her real name was.
I cleared my throat, “By the way, I’m Steve.” I said, extending my hand. “Steve Douglas, I don’t believe I caught your name.”
She looked up from her magazine and with a sweet little-ole’-lady smile said, “My name is Frances, Frances Holloway. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Douglas.”
“Please call me Steve.” I said.
Just then, I noticed what appeared to be two more detectives board the plane and confer with Detective Gough. A few minutes later, he and two new detectives made their way down the aisle in our direction. They stopped next to us and without so much as an excuse me ma’am, Detective Gough reached across me placing his hand on top of Frances Old Lady Peaches Holloway’s head and snatched off her grey wig! HOLY MOTHER OF FREAK, OLD LADY PEACHES WAS A MAN!
The next few minutes were total chaos. The person I thought was some old lady next to me grabbed Detective Gough’s arm and jumped up out of his seat scrambling over me in the process. The other two detectives tried to subdue the man. Christine Legs Hampstead jumped out of her seat and tackled the two detectives from behind! There was a big pile of bodies in the aisle and when it was all over, Old Lady Peaches and Christine stood over the three detectives who were now handcuffed and lying face down on the floor. Christine shouted for everyone to remain seated as she held up a badge and announced herself and Old Lady Peaches, as Federal Agents! But I think the most surprising thing happened next. Jack in the Box, the dead guy, suddenly sprang to life and climbed down from the overhead compartment!
“What the heck is going on?” I shouted!
“We’ll explain everything as soon as we get everyone off this plane.” Agent Christine said.
And with that, the airplane doors opened, people were allowed to exit the plane, and more Federal Agents came on board to take charge of the “prisoners”. I was escorted to an airport lounge by Agents Christine Hampstead and Frank Holloway for a full explanation of what had occurred.
Agent Holloway had, by then, changed out of his Flowered dress and into grey slacks and a crisp white shirt and tie.
“Please sit down Mr. Douglas. We apologize for the circumstances but everything we did was necessary to catch the jewelry theft ring. We were following a Mr. Duvet across county because he was one of the thieves. He was following you and was about to dispose of you and steal the diamonds you’re carrying.”
“How do you know about the diamonds?” I asked.
“Believe me, we’ve been working on this theft ring for quite some time and know a lot more than we are able to say.” Agent Holloway said.
Agent Hampstead continued. “We couldn’t let Duvet kill you so we apprehended him in Dallas. He was to meet with his partners here in L.A. when the plane landed, but as you can see the plan changed. We didn’t know exactly who was meeting with Duvet, so we created a scenario where we could get the thieves to board the airplane looking for Duvet. The pilots were notified of what was going on and cooperated with us by pretending to have a dead body on board. This plan went into effect before we left Dallas. We knew that once we landed and word had gotten out at L.A.X. that we had an apparent homicide on board, the thieves would attempt to find out if it was their contact and if he had acquired the diamonds. Sure enough, enter – Detective Vincent Van Gough. He pretended to be the detective in charge not knowing we were already on to him. We couldn’t move on him yet until we had his cohorts too. When they boarded the plane we knew it was time to make our move.”
“I must say though,” Agent Holloway broke in, “You threw a wrench in our plan when you decided to switch seats. With you up front in first class, we could keep you safe, but your unexpected movement caused us concern.”
“I had moved from my seat next to Agent Holloway to take the seat of Duvet.” Agent Christina Hampstead said. “We didn’t want anyone opening the overhead where Agent Oglethorpe was. So I sat below him as a diversion. We knew when Duvet’s accomplices boarded the plane they would want to ID the body to see if it was their contact. That’s why we let the phony Detective Gough find Agent Oglethorpe’s wallet minus his badge and Federal Agent I.D.” We knew it would thoroughly confuse the fake Detective Gough and he would start searching the plane for Duvet or You Mr. Douglas.”
“When Agent Hampstead moved to Duvet’s vacant seat, and you came looking for another place to sit, you just happened to sit next to me.” said Agent Holloway. “I guess somehow, Gough figured out I wasn’t really a little old lady and that’s when he came back and snatched my wig off. You could say that it was a case of poetic justice though, no one was who they appeared to be and turnabout’s fair play.”
“The important thing is everyone lived through it.” Agent Hampstead said. “The theft ring is now in custody.”
The door behind me opened and in walked Jack in the Box himself. He was carrying a black velvet box.
“Mr. Douglas, I believe these are yours.” He said, handing the box to me.
I opened it and there were the diamonds I thought were locked safely in my luggage.
“How did you get these?” I asked.
“Those are the real ones.” Agent Oglethorpe replied. “The one’s you have are fake. We couldn’t take a chance the crooks would outsmart us and get away the diamonds.”
“But when ?-” I started to asked.
“Before you left Raleigh, North Carolina.” Oglethorpe said.
“I’ll be damned” was all I could say.
The End
