Last Words

“I’m so sorry…”

Those three words, followed by the off click of the loudspeaker, bounced around the cabin as the tight gasps and random screams evolved into complete panic. Ephram, who had always considered himself a collected man, clenched his armrests so desperately he lost feeling in his fingers as he replayed the pilot’s final words.

Ephram felt his body lighten as the plane dipped suddenly before attempting to level again. As he watched the sun blink through the clouds as the plane barreled through the sky, he realized he would die here. He would die on a plane thousands of miles away from his wife and son. Thousands of miles away for a business trip that would most likely end in a hotel with a woman whose name he would forget by morning. He would die without ever saying sorry.

His carry-on bag tapped his wingtip shoes as the plane jostled left. A black leather bound book slid out and nestled against his ankle. With trembling fingers, he pulled the book as well as a pen from his satchel, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him as a baby bottle bounced down the walkway. Golden calligraphy letters shone against the soft, smooth leather; ‘E. A. W.’ When his wife had first bought him the book, he had silently scoffed at the childishness of the monogram, but was now thankful, the initials possibly assisting with identifying his items. If their remains were ever found.

He shakily uncapped the pen and opened the book, smoothing the creamy pages before pressing the pen to paper. The ink blotted into a tiny pool as he collected his thoughts. The plane rocked violently, slamming his head into the window. He shook his head, the dizziness residing as he began frantically scribbling his words. His time was limited.

The words ‘Dear Camille and Alexander’ sprawled across the top of the page. He cursed himself as his tears smeared the letters. He wiped his face as best he could before continuing, solidifying his last words on the pages of a little black book.

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Alexander slammed his car into park, the sedan rocking with the sudden change of gear. He removed his hand from the steering wheel, his fingers trembling as he removed the key from the ignition. Six years. Six years had passed since his father’s plane had supposedly crashed, disappearing without a trace, leaving he and his mother scrambling for some sense of normalcy in its wake. Six years with no phone calls, no emails, no updates, then this. An explosion as the news of the plane’s pieces were found by a group of casual scuba divers. Six years of searching and it had been found on a leisure trip. The irony left a bitter taste in his mouth as he exited the car.

The front door of his house flew open before he had even shut the car door. His mother’s face was red, her immaculate makeup streaked with tears.

“Alex,” she croaked, her voice raw with emotion. She reached her arms out and collected Alex’s tall frame in a sloppy hug. “Your dad… They found his things…” His mother said, clutching him more tightly as he grew rigid in her arms.

Even after all this time, waves of animosity slammed his chest at the mention of his father. Sadness and loss, though present, were crippled by the overflowing anger. His father was distant in life then had the nerve to leave without saying goodbye. Alex was aware enough to know his reaction was irrational, but angry enough not to care.

He drew in a heavy breath before pulling away and wiping his mother’s cheek with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “What did they find?”

She smiled softly at him before grabbing a banker’s box from the coffee table. She began gently shifting through the items within. “A cufflink,” she began. “His phone. It doesn’t work. I don’t know why I thought it would.” She laughed, a little embarrassed. “And, his notebook. They said it was in a plastic sealed bag. They think most likely a bag that had airport snacks in it.” She laughed again. “He always was a quick thinker.”

She handed Alex the book. Alex blinked in disbelief as he took the notebook in his hands, the smooth leather soft against his palms. The book looked untouched, as if it had just been packed in his father’s briefcase yesterday.

“I read it,” she said, pulling him from the momentary shock. “He wrote a letter. To us,” she clarified.

Alex nodded slowly, piecing together the situation unfolding before him. “I’m… I’m gonna…” he mumbled, pointing to the direction of his bedroom.

“Of course, sweetheart,” she replied.

He clutched the leather bound miracle in his hands as he walked toward his room. He lowered himself to his bed before gingerly cracking open the book, the smell of leather and ink hitting his nose. He steadied his breath then began to read.

‘Dear Camille and Alexander,

I would give anything to be able to see your faces one last time. To be able to say this to you in person. I don’t think I’ll ever get that chance. I think this is it for me. If I could do it all again, I would do so many things differently.

Camille, I would have taken that job you begged me to take so I could work closer to home. I wouldn’t have stayed over at work so we could have more family dinners. I would have fixed that leaky faucet you asked about a million times.

Alex, I should have never grounded you on your seventh birthday. I still regret that. I wish I had taken you to those nature walks you were always talking about. I wish I had supported your writing more. If you ever see this, I want you to know you’re gonna change the world with your words. Pursue it! There’s a safe in my office. The code is your birthday. There’s twenty thousand dollars in it. It’s your college funds.

I’m so sorry. I love you.’

Alex closed the book, a tear splashing against the durable leather. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand as more tears slid down his cheeks. “It’s okay. I love you, too,” he whispered as he held the book to his chest.