Captain Baker, our pilot, calls me up to the cockpit a few minutes later. He looks concerned. He’s a kind older man, close to retirement, who’s seen almost every situation in the sky—but a hidden child stowaway is a new one, even for him.
“We need to contact ground control and let them know,” he says. “But first, we should confirm that the child is safe and not in any immediate danger. Does he seem hurt?”
I shake my head. “He seems frightened, but he’s not injured. We don’t know how he got onboard. He says his mother told him to find his aunt, but he doesn’t know anything else.”
Captain Baker’s eyebrows knit together. “We’ll handle it. But keep him calm. Make sure he’s comfortable until we land. Then we’ll have authorities and child services waiting to help sort things out.”
My stomach churns at the thought of turning this little boy over to strangers, even if they are officials who might help. But I know it’s protocol. We can’t just drop him off like a piece of luggage. There are rules, and for good reason.
Back in the cabin, I pull Carmen aside to strategize. We decide to keep Ben’s presence as discreet as possible. While it’s certainly a major concern for us, we don’t want to alarm the other passengers or cause panic. After all, we’re still mid-flight, with a few more hours to go.
Ben is nibbling on his crackers, staring out the small window in the door of the galley. I take a seat next to him and smile. “Feel any better?” I ask softly. He gives a tiny nod.
I decide to change the subject for a bit, lighten the mood. “You know, I used to love airplanes when I was a kid. My mom said I would stare at them in the sky and imagine all the places they were going.”
Ben looks at me, curious. “You did?”
“Yeah. That’s one reason I became a flight attendant. I love traveling, meeting new people.” I pause, then add gently, “Now I get to meet surprising people like you.”
He manages the faintest flicker of a smile. That’s progress.