It was one of the wildest workdays of my life, and trust me, as a flight attendant, I’ve seen some “stuff.” So, the plane takes off, my coworker and I do the usual safety brief, and all’s good. Then, as I’m heading back to my seat, I pass the bathroom and hear this weird noise—a kitten meowing? Instantly, I’m like, “Did someone lose their cat mid-flight?”
I knock, expecting a passenger to answer, but nothing. Curious (and low-key panicking), I open the door and nearly jump out of my skin. No kitten. Instead, a little boy is curled up on the floor, crying his eyes out. I crouch down, trying to stay calm, and say, “Whoa, buddy, you scared me! I’m Leslie. What’s your name?”
Through teary eyes, he whispers, “Ben.”
I help him up and settle him into a jump seat while I try to figure out where he’s supposed to be. But here’s the kicker: there’s no “Ben” on the passenger list. Not a single one. My brain is spinning. “Ben, where are your parents? Are you lost?” He doesn’t answer, just clutches this ratty little paper bag like it’s a lifeline.
Trying to keep it together, I ask, “Alright, Ben. Focus. What’s in the bag?”
Ben looks at me with wide eyes, then gives the most subtle shake of his head, as if he’s too afraid or too upset to open the paper bag. I don’t want to push him, so I smile gently, leaning against the wall. We’re inside the narrow galley area at this point, other passengers oblivious. They’re dozing, reading magazines, or watching the in-flight entertainment. My coworker, Carmen, catches my eye from across the aisle. She mouths, “Everything okay?” I mouth back, “No idea yet,” and gesture for her to wait.
I turn to Ben again. “Do you remember how you got on the plane?” I ask, trying to keep my voice soothing and casual, like I’m talking to my nephew. Ben just shakes his head again. My heart clenches because I can see the terror in his little face. He can’t be more than eight or nine years old. I notice he’s wearing a plain blue T-shirt and shorts. No jacket. No luggage, except the paper bag he’s clutching.
At this point, I’m thinking of possible scenarios: maybe Ben’s traveling alone with an unaccompanied minor form that got lost in the shuffle. But that doesn’t explain why he wasn’t on the passenger list. And it doesn’t explain how he ended up locked in the airplane bathroom.