The captain laughed, but his eyes were wet.
Benjamin leaned toward him.
“Were you scared of turbulence too?”
The captain looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Really scared?”
“Really scared.”
Benjamin examined the gold stripes on his shoulders.
“But you’re the captain.”
The captain smiled.
“I am now.”
Benjamin considered that.
Then he looked out the window.
The clouds had thinned, and sunlight poured across his face.
He stopped rocking.
The captain stood.
Before leaving, he touched the back of Benjamin’s seat.
“Daniel used to talk about retirement sometimes.”
I looked up.
“He did?”
“He’d say, ‘I’ve spent enough years teaching pilots. Maybe I’ll get lucky and teach a grandkid to love airplanes.'”
I felt something inside me break open.
“He never met Benjamin.”
The captain nodded.
“I know.”
For the rest of the flight, Benjamin kept the airplane in both hands.
The man across the aisle didn’t say another word.
