New Project Backwards Story # 4

I sure hope this story hits the target!

 

     The first thing Steve saw upon becoming aware, was the ocean, way below him.  He was flying in a plane then.  But where and when?  He slowly turned his had at the sound of the radio crackling to life. 

 

     “...is.. Guard ship Itasca.  Confirming... at longitude... and latitude...  Judging on your reported... turn... to put you on target for Howland Isl...”

 

     “What?  Which way did they say?” a familiar face, who was piloting the plane Steve was in, asked. 

 

     “I didn’t catch that either,” answered a man who was sitting next to Amelia Earhart answered.

 

     “Well, time to flip a coin and make a decision; I guess I’ll turn left,” said Earhart. 

 

     Steve quickly said, “Ah, you might want to rethink that, and try right.”

 

     Earhart exchanged a look with, this must be Fred Noonan, her navigator, and said rather sarcastically, “Look, no offense, but why should we listen to a stow away who knows nothing about anything?”

 

     Steve was just about to answer when Noonan cut in, “Regardless, with the extra weigh of, what’s your name, anyway?”

 

     “Steve Weaver.”

 

     “With the extra weight of Steve here, if we guess wrong, we’re f****d; we’ll fly out over empty ocean, having missed Howland Island, until we run out of fuel.”

 

     “Look, I’m just trying to save you guys; trust me, whatever decision you make, do the opposite.”  Then a thought occurred to him.  What if left was the correct direction, and by trying to save them, he was inadvertently changing history, for the worse?  What had really happened to Earhart was unknown.  Before he could say anything more, Earhart spoke again,

 

     “I’ve already decided.  We go left.  Of all the planes you could have stowed away on, why, oh why, did you pick this one?  I had fuel consumption figured to the second, but that was based on two people, not three, and a third person would have to have a bloat-butt.”

 

     Steve glanced quickly down at himself; he supposed he could have cut back on the chow a little, but since he had been jumping through time, he had dropped a few pounds, as he hadn’t been eating regularly, but surely he wasn’t that bad?  Earhart must have seen the look on his face, because she added,

 

     “Oh, I guess I’m just upset.  Your not that bad.”

 

     The plane banked left, and Steve thought, “S**t, I hope she’s right, and Howland Island is close by in this direction.”

 

     They flew on over the vast empty ocean, and a cross-looking Amelia Earhart kept giving Steve dirty looks out of the corner of her eye. 

 

       “We should have it in sight by now,” said a worried-looking Fred Noonan.  Nothing but endless blue water stretched out as far as the eye could see. 

 

 

     After another few minutes, the engine sputtered, and Earhart turned angrily to Steve, “You fat-a** moron; now look; we’re going in, all because of you!” she yelled, with venom. 

 

     “You don’t know that; you may who may have guessed wrong,” replied a defensive Steve.  

 

     Just then, Noonan cut in, “I have Howland Island in sight, several miles ahead!”

 

     Earhart replied, “A lot of good it does us now.”

 

     Opps; Steve’s fat a** was indeed the cause of the most famous disappearance in aviation history.  Even as he was thinking this, the plane nosed over and dived for the water.  Steve yelled,

 

     “Get me out of here!”, turned to Earhart and Noonan, and started to say he was sorry, when his world went dark.

 

The End