In the airplane restroom, I discovered a sobbing youngster with a paper bag who wasn’t on the passenger list.
As a flight attendant, I promise you that I have seen some “stuff.” The plane takes off, my coworker and I complete the customary safety brief, and everything is OK. It was one of the most crazy workdays of my life. Then, on my way back to my seat, I hear this strange sound—a kitten meowing?—as I pass the restroom. My first thought is, “Did someone lose their cat in midair? ”
I knock in the hopes that a passenger will answer, but nobody does. I open the door out of curiosity (and some panic) and almost burst out laughing. Not a kitten. Rather, a young boy is sobbing uncontrollably while curled up on the ground. Trying not to panic, I squat down and say, “Whoa, buddy, you scared me! My name is Leslie. What is your name? ”
“Ben,” he murmurs through watery eyes.
As I try to figure out where he should be, I assist him in getting up and placing him in a jump seat. The worst part is that “Ben” is not on the passenger list. Not one. My mind is racing. Where are your parents, Ben? Are you lost? He grips this tattered tiny paper bag like it’s a lifeline without responding.
Ben gives me a wide-eyed stare before giving me the smallest head shake, as though he’s too scared or angry to open the paper bag. I lean against the wall and grin softly so as not to push him. At this point, the other passengers are unaware that we are inside the small galley area. They are either viewing the in-flight entertainment, reading magazines, or sleeping. I notice Carmen, my coworker, across the aisle. “Is everything alright?” she mouths. “No idea yet,” I mouth back, gesturing for her to wait.