Dragonfly Dreams, Part Two

Frank Mason shifted in his seat. First class was very comfortable…better than he was used to. But there was just something about sitting on an airplane that made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to flying…had never cared for it. But, ever since taking the job with Gaia Pharmaceutical over three months ago, he had found that it was a necessary evil.

Hoping to relieve some of his anxiety, he closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his head again…the one where he had been confronted with Mr. Gordon Jones (now his boss) floating in the air. At first, he had thought that it was just a trick of the light…that he wasn’t really seeing what he was seeing. But it had been too simple…too obvious…to be a trick. Mr. Jones had been floating. It was the plain and simple truth.

“Come back and sit down Mr. Mason,” Gordon Jones had said, as he slowly lowered back down onto the white plastic cube that seemed to serve the purpose of a chair for him.

Unable to speak, Frank had stumbled over to the sphere on which he had been sitting earlier. Although it was bulky and uncomfortable, it offered the support that he needed. Especially now that his legs felt like they were going to buckle underneath him.

“You were….ummm…you were…” he had stuttered.

“Floating,” Gordon Jones had opened his eyes. Although they had still been a shocking color of pale blue, they had also had a tired look to them…an old look.
Frank hadn’t known what to say. He had just stared at the floor. The silence in the room had been a creature that had clawed at his mind until Gordon Jones had finally spoken again.

“Gaia Pharmaceutical is an international conglomerate,” he had stated, “We have offices and people working for us all over the world. We are one of the richest companies in the world. And do you know how we got that way Mr. Mason?”

Frank had only shaken his head…however, he had somehow found the strength to look at Gordon Jones again. Thankfully, Mr. Jones had just been sitting there….and had not turned into a tiger or some other sort of creature.

“Because Frank,” Gordon had said, “Our public drugs are just a small part of what we do. Sure…we have all the latest miracle drugs. We can cure everything from heartburn to impotence. But we also had another side. We have a very lucrative deal with the government. We are working on finding plants and herbs that can enhance….abilities….in the everyday person. That little demonstration of floating that I just gave you was just one of the abilities that we have been unable to unlock. Power like that is very desirable to certain people in the government. Power like that is very….expensive.”

Frank had swallowed hard. He had hardly been able to believe what he was hearing. If he hadn’t had seen it with his own eyes then he still probably wouldn’t have believed it.

“Why are you telling me this?” he had asked, “What if I decide to not take a job here? What if I decide to talk?”

Gordon Jones had only smiled and stated, “I think that you and I both know that you aren’t going anywhere. You really need this job…for one thing. And also….like I said….we know that YOU are the right person for this job. It’s your destiny.”
And although it hadn’t been spoken aloud, Frank knew that he wouldn’t have left that office alive if he had tried to walk out the door. He shuddered to himself and opened his eyes. People were still boarding the airplane. He fumbled with the air conditioning controls and turned the steady, stale stream of air directly into his face.

So far, his job hadn’t been very demanding. He had been working in a large greenhouse that was located on company grounds. There were all kinds of plants in this monster of a building that had to be at least as big as 10 football fields. He could recognize many of the plants. But there were some that he had never seen before. For the last three months, he had been busy entering data into a computer about plant growth, moisture content, and fertilizer. But he hadn’t felt right….something was wrong. He was doing a job that any high school dropout could do. Surely this wasn’t why he had been hired….and yesterday, he had found out that he was indeed moving up in the company.

A note had arrived in his email. It had been plain and simple.

Mr. Mason,
Tomorrow you will board Flight 379 to Brazil. A company car will take you to the airport at 8 AM. Your tickets will be waiting for you. You will pack one bag of clothing only. Do not tell anyone where you are going. Further instructions will await you in Brazil.

And that had been it….no signature…no explanation….no apology for the late notice. And Frank knew….he just KNEW….that he wouldn’t be able to refuse this assignment. That is….if he still wanted to live.

And now….here he was. He had been sitting on this forsaken plane for what seemed like hours….but in reality was probably only minutes. He looked around at the people around him….tourists mostly. They were chatting excitedly about their plans in Brazil. A couple next to him were giggling and whispering to each other between kisses. Newlyweds probably.

Just then a loud wheezing sound made him turn his head toward the front of the plane. A large, heavyset woman was making her way down the aisle. She was dressed in a purple billowing dress that flowed around her like smoke. She struggled to shove her ample girth between the seats as she continued to walk toward him. Frank was amazed to see that she smiled at him and gave a little wave. What in the world was going on?

“Mr. Mason,” her voice tinkled in his ears like a wind chime. It was enticing. He had never heard a voice like it before. It was almost like a waterfall made out of diamonds.

The woman reached out a plump hand toward him. On habit, he reached and grabbed it. Her skin was soft and warm…and not entirely unpleasant.

“Mr. Frank Mason?” the woman asked.

“Why yes I am,” he said, releasing her hand as she placed her large black handbag in the overhead compartment, “And you are?”

“Martha,” she smiled down at him, “Martha Miller. I’m from the company. I’ll be going with you to Brazil…although honestly I don’t know why I am going at all. Usually I do all of my work at home.”

“Oh really,” Frank shifted over to the window seat so that Martha could plop down beside him, “Do you do data entry or something?”

Martha laughed. Her tinkling voice rang out and filled the airplane.

“Oh no,” she giggled, “I do readings for the company. I’m a psychic. By the way…when we get to Brazil, don’t talk to the man with the monkey. Something bad will happen…I’m pretty sure of it. I saw a little psychic flash when we shook hands.”

Frank just sat there. He didn’t know what else to say. At least he could feel the airplane starting to taxi down the runway.

Until next week…class dismissed.