We are about 11 km above the Pacific, and flying at about 1000 km/h. It is dawn where we are, but a four-year old is awake, and keeping me so, too. Apparently she is caught by the jet lag. Of course, she doesn't know that I have a meeting the following day, and I need a good rest before it. But this little angel knows how to orient herself in the bowels of my brain.
"My mom said that there were people in the past who could talk to the dead ones. Is that true?"
"If your mom said that, she must know something. And I heard the same thing, too."
"Can you talk to them?"
"Oh, no! No!"
I am not sure if my answer disappointed her or pushed her into further thoughts. She paused. I thought she fell asleep. So, I layed my head back to the seat for a few minutes of sleep. Just then, I was zoomed out by another angelic question:
"I wish I could talk to my grandpa. Mom said he died... Can you fly an aircraft?"
"I can! But not the ones as big as this one, though."
"I can fly'em, too. But my planes crash quickly. My friend Nathan can make paper planes. They fly fast."
For a moment, I thought this girl was swimming in her imagination. But of course she wasn't.
I was going to say that I was glad that my planes haven't crashed so far. Should I tell this? No. Why ruin the dreams of a child with the rigid realities of adult life?
"Do you talk to your planes?"
"You can't talk to non-living things. They are dead."
"So, I can't talk to my grandpa!"
Oh, God! Is it not possible for me not to damage this girl's delicate world? If you want a picture of that elephant in the glasshouse, picture me.
"I am sorry for your grandfather. If it is going to make you happy, I have a secret to share with you."
"...???"
"Even if you cannot talk to them, the dead ones can talk to you. But you need to know how to listen."
After this sentence, I paused for a second. What would the girl's mother think if she heard what I just said and what I was about to say? I told myself "you cannot return the arrow, once it is shot."
"Can you understand what this airplane is telling, for example?" I asked.
"No! Can you?"
"It says that it is very afraid of flying. One of its friends died in an accident a week ago. That airplane was caught by a storm and fell from the skies."
She closed her eyes, as if trying to hear the aircraft. God knows what she heard. And God knows something else: the things I couldn't dare to express: that I was in the investigation team for a fatal crash the previous week that killed 267 passengers and 9 crew members on board; that there were children among the passengers; and worst of all, that the clues indicate negligence in the maintenance, which is almost always caused by the greed of people not only in the companies but also elsewhere in the financial world.
The little angel left her seat and sat on the floor. She started padding the carpet. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"I am telling the plane that it is ok to have fears. My grandfather told me that."
With that, I shut up. After all, I shouldn't be interfering with an intimate communication.
By then, the sun was about to shine on the horizon. I looked deep into the depths of the skies. Venus was shining like a pearl, and the moon was a thin, bright crescent.
"It tells that it is too tired and sleepy" said the little girl.
"Oh really? We are nearing our destination. There, the airplane can have plenty of time to rest and eat something."
Then, she fell asleep on the carpet until she and her mom were woken up by the attendants to prepare for landing.
"He can talk to the airplanes", she told her mom, pointing at me.
"Good morning", said the mom, looking at me with a serious face; to which I smiled.
"Your daughter is very friendly towards the airplane. She can grow to become an engineer one day", I added.
"Engineer? She is more into stories. But who knows?", the mom responded rigidly.
"I want to be an engineer", insisted the girl.
I smiled, and told her, in my mind, "Yes my little lady. The airplanes need your compassion, as they are carrying the hell under their arms and people in their bodies. They are very much stressed for the fear of not being trustworthy. I wish people took their example in dealing with each other."
"Grandpa is an engineer. I want to be an engineer," she repeated.
Her mom looked at her, straight in the eyes, and grabbed her hands tight. "He passed away, Jessi. He passed away last week. We are going for his funeral. You have to understand this. His plane crashed, and he is not coming back again."
