Part 3 : The Reunion

John wondered through the wreckage. Everybody who was still attached to their seats had died on impact. Most were either crushed by debris or simply died. Probably suffocated on the way down. He had seen some weird movies that talked like this but the real life version was much more gruesome. What John even more depressed was that Ramon was still missing.

John made his way of the wreckage only to find Yolanda still waiting for him.
After he saved the young black stewardess from drowning, she just seemed to automatically bond with him. He smiled at her, as he walked past. “You feeling okay?” he asked.

“I am still shaking.” She quivered, following him.

“I guess you weren’t expecting your day to end like this.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.” Yolanda giggled slightly.

John looked at all the people. Most were helping each other. Others were panicking, wondering when the rescue party was coming. The young man maneuvered through them, with Yolanda following him. As they reached the outer lining of people, Yolanda then screamed. “MARITA!” she bellowed over the top of her lungs.

John looked into the distance to see a Latina stewardess stumbling into the distance. She had only one shoe and she was holding her head. Yolanda ran after her, kicking up sand in her wake. John decided to jog after her, considering he still hadn’t found Ramon. When Yolanda reached her, she embraced her like a long lost sister. Marita embraced her as well, but she did it leisurely, as if she was drunk. John knew it wasn’t that. “Oh, Marita, I was sure you were dead.” Yolanda cried.

“What happened?” Marita said, as if she was half asleep.

“The plane ripped in half. We were in the rear section. I think we were lucky . . .” John paused, “Are you alright?”

“So sleepy.” Marita said, nearly falling down.

Yolanda then noticed the blood coming out of the side of her friend’s head. She dabbed some on her fingers and showed John. He immediately grabbed Marita by the other arm and began to guide her toward Tony.


Tony gritted in pain. The eye wound was starting to sting. He needed something to cover up the wound, to prevent any airborne particle infection. Before he could surmise what to do, Eddie was tugging on his pants leg. “Your friend is coming.” He said.

“John?” Tony called.

“Tony, I got a lady here who is hurt, “ he quickly said, “ She’s got blood coming out of her head and she says she is getting sleepy.”

“Forgive me for being abrupt but is her brain showing?” Tony said.

“No, “ replied Yolanda.

“Set her down next to me, “the doctor motioned, “ it sounds like she just has a concussion.”

Yolanda and John sat her down next to Tony. The blind doctor maneuver over to her and felt of her wound. He paused for second and then checked her pulse. As he moved his hand away, he brushed against her sleep. It moved too easily. He then tugged on it gently, hearing a tearing sound. “Is her sleeve almost off?” he asked.

“Yes,” John replied.

Tony then tore it off all the way. “What are you doing?” Yolanda demanded.

Within one fluid motion, he quickly folded up the sleeve and placed it against Marita’s wound. Yolanda was ashamed at her brashness. “Oh, “ she coughed, “Sorry.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, “ Tony smiled, “Dr. Tony Largo.”

“Yolanda Tower.” She smiled.

“Hello, Yolanda. I wish I could do more but I am blind. I’ll help her as much as I can.”

“I know, this just . . this just all . . .”

“I think we should let the doc due what he needs to.” John said, motioning her up.

“John, how is everybody else?” Tony asked.

“It’s pretty rough, Doc. I don’t have an exact figure but there are a lot dead. I am not sure how many wounded.”

“If they need me, send them over here, with someone who can do what I say, since I won’t see them.”

“Sure thing, Doc.” John said, walking away.

“Mind if I stay?” Yolanda asked.

“Please,” Tony smiled, still holding the cloth over Marita’s wound.


John walked over to other people, telling them that they had a doctor on the beach. He also quickly reminded them that he was blind, so they needed to be able to listen to him and heal themselves. The tired man kept walking, looking around. The luggage was scattered all over the beach. He surmised they’d probably have to go through it later. He wondered where his green case might be. Two men were dragging the dead to a small row. John looked them over. Ramon was not anywhere near them.

John was losing hope that Ramon might even be on the beach, let alone alive. He could be down at the bottom of the ocean for all he knew. As he continued walking along, an older man was running from the wooded area. He was gasping as he ran. John ran over to him and helped him. “Are you all right, sir?” John asked.

“Dead man,” he gasped.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dead man. Dead man in the trees.”

John looked up and saw what he was talking about. There was a body stuck up in the trees. The limp corpse looked like it was broken in half. He left the old man behind and ran up to the trees. As he got closer, he knew he recognized the shirt; he just new. As he got closer and closer, he could see the Henley shirt which bore the flag of Spain. John fell to his knees as there was no more doubt. It was Ramon in the trees.

His best friend was dead.