A 10-year-old girl kicked my seat for two hours on a 12-hour flight while her mom snapped, “She’s a child. Deal with it.” When they left for the restroom, I noticed something that gave me the perfect revenge. By the time they returned, Mom’s nightmare was just beginning.
I was sitting in a hot spring surrounded by snowy mountains.
Snow monkeys everywhere. They soaked peacefully, like retired accountants on vacation.
I closed my eyes. Finally, some peace.
THUMP.
Something hit me in the back.
THUMP.
A small monkey sat behind me, staring at the sky like he had never met a spine in his life.
“Hey, buddy. I’m trying to relax.”
He tilted his head.
THUMP. THUMP.
Now there were two.
“Seriously? It’s an entire mountain. Go bother someone else.”
SNOW MONKEYS EVERYWHERE.
One of them jumped up and slammed into me.
BANG.
My eyes snapped open. Seat back. Dark window. Engine hum.
Right. The plane.
I drifted off again. Five monkeys this time. One sat on my head, one pulled my ear, one used my back as a drum.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
RIGHT. THE PLANE.
“What is wrong with you people?”
The biggest one stuck out his tongue.
BANG.
I woke up for real.
Someone was kicking my seat. Rhythmically. With commitment.
I turned around.
SOMEONE WAS KICKING MY SEAT.
A ten-year-old girl in pink sneakers stared straight into my eyes.
THUMP.
“Are you kidding me?”
Next to her, her mother was glued to a tablet.
A Turkish soap opera, judging by the man in the expensive suit shouting at a crying woman.
Giant noise-canceling headphones. The tablet was plugged into a fat power bank wedged beside her seat cushion.
I WOKE UP FOR REAL.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Could you ask your daughter to stop kicking my seat?”
She pulled off one earcup.
“She’s a child. Deal with it.”
“I noticed. She also has great aim.”
“Then move.”
“Where? The wing?”
“THEN MOVE.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to her show.
The girl smiled and kicked again.
Great. One of the monkeys had followed me onto the plane.
“Hey, sweetheart. Could you keep your feet down?”
“Mom says you have to deal with it.”
“Your mom says a lot of things.”
ONE OF THE MONKEYS HAD FOLLOWED ME ONTO THE PLANE.
“She says that one a lot.”
“I bet she does.”
“Are you going to tell on me?”
“Only if you keep kicking.”
She kicked. Twice. Out of principle.
“Mom never does anything.”
“COULD YOU ASK YOUR DAUGHTER TO STOP KICKING MY SEAT?”
“Yes. I noticed that too.”
I’d had three hours of sleep, a week of conference meetings, and twelve hours of flight between me and my own bed. All I wanted was a nap. Not a miracle. A nap.
I tried a pillow. A blanket. Sitting sideways like a pretzel.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
I turned around again.
ALL I WANTED WAS A NAP.
“Ma’am, your daughter is still kicking my seat.”
“And you’re still complaining.”
“I’m consistent. It’s one of my better qualities.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t fly if you can’t stand kids.”
“I have two of my own.”
“Then you should understand!”
“AND YOU’RE STILL COMPLAINING.”
“I do. That’s why I taught them not to kick strangers.”
“Don’t tell me how to raise my daughter!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m still waiting for you to start.”
She put her headphones back on, slowly, like a gunslinger holstering a weapon.
I operate on hearts for a living. I know a thing or two about rhythm. This kid had none.
An hour later, Lily got bored with my seat and tried her mother instead.
I KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT RHYTHM. THIS KID HAD NONE.
“Mom, I’m bored!”
“Watch something, honey.”
“I don’t want to!”
“Then find something else to do!”
Lily looked at the back of my seat.
BANG.
“MOM, I’M BORED!”
I turned around one more time.
“Listen, mister. She’s a CHILD. Children get bored. Children move. If you wanted peace and quiet, you should’ve bought a private jet!”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m buying groceries.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Enjoy your show.”
“ENJOY YOUR SHOW.”
On the screen, the man was now the one crying.
Finally, someone on that tablet was having a worse day than me.
Two more hours passed. Somewhere past four hundred kicks, I stopped counting.
Then the mother pulled off her headphones.
“Lily, come on. Bathroom.”
“But I don’t need to go!”
ON THE SCREEN, THE MAN WAS NOW THE ONE CRYING.
“Well, I do. Move.”
They marched down the aisle.
Silence. Beautiful, ringing silence.
I almost cried. Then I smelled something.
Hot plastic.
I leaned over. The tablet sat on her tray, still plugged in.
HOT PLASTIC.
The power bank beside it looked slightly puffed up, and the cable was bent at a sharp angle.
I wasn’t inventing anything. It really smelled.
For two hours, I had begged that woman to give her daughter some attention. Now I had a feeling she was about to give Lily her undivided attention.
I pressed the call button.
***
A flight attendant arrived. Her name tag said Emily.
I PRESSED THE CALL BUTTON.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“I think something’s wrong with the electronics behind me.”
“What kind of problem?”
“It smells like overheated plastic. And the battery looks swollen.”
“Do you see any smoke?”
“No. But I figured you’d want to know before I do.”
“DO YOU SEE ANY SMOKE?”
She leaned in and sniffed. Her smile disappeared.
“Did you touch it?”
“No, ma’am. I’m a surgeon. I know better than to poke swollen things.”
“Good. Please stay in your seat.”
She called over the senior flight attendant. Two minutes later, they had unplugged everything, bagged it, and carried it off toward the galley.
“I’M A SURGEON.”
I sat there looking like a Sunday school teacher.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Just a precaution, sir.”
“Safety first.”
I tried my best to hide my Cheshire Cat grin.
I watched the tablet disappear.
“SAFETY FIRST.”
I’d spent two hours negotiating with a ten-year-old’s sneakers. Turns out, a battery was a much better listener.
The mother and Lily came back.
She sat down, reached for her tray, and froze.
“Where’s my tablet?”
I said nothing.
She checked under the seat. The seat pocket. Then she looked at me.
THE MOTHER AND LILY CAME BACK.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?”
“Good news. Your seat’s still here.”
“YOU TOOK MY TABLET!”
“I’m a surgeon, ma’am. Not a magician.”
“Don’t play dumb with me!”
“Trust me, I’m not enjoying this conversation enough to play anything.”
“YOU TOOK MY TABLET!”
She jabbed the call button. Emily came back.
“Where is my tablet?”
“Ma’am, the power bank was overheating. We have to follow safety procedure.”
“There was nothing wrong with it!”
“It was unusually hot, and the battery was swollen. The crew will keep it until it’s checked.”
“HE did this!”
I TRIED MY BEST TO HIDE MY CHESHIRE CAT GRIN.
She pointed at me.
“He’s angry because my daughter kicked his seat!”
I turned around slowly.
“So you did notice.”
She blinked.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“THERE WAS NOTHING WRONG WITH IT!”
“Of course not.”
“I want to speak to your supervisor!”
“I’ll ask the senior flight attendant to come over,” Emily said.
“I paid for this flight!”
“So did I,” I said quietly. “Mine didn’t include a massage package.”
“I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR SUPERVISOR!”
She dropped into her seat and pulled out her phone. Four percent.
Her headphones blinked red and died in her hands.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Something wrong?”
“Shut up!”
“Just checking.”
“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”
She turned the phone off and gripped it like the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.
No tablet. No headphones. No soap opera.
I put on my sleep mask.
I thought losing her show would be the worst part of her flight.
If we’re going to suffer, we’re going to suffer together.
***
For five minutes, it was quiet.
NO SOAP OPERA.
I was almost asleep.
“Mom?”
“What?”
“I’m bored.”
“Go to sleep.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
I’M SLEEPY!
“I’M NOT SLEEPY.”
“Then look out the window.”
“It’s dark!”
“Then close your eyes!”
“But I’m not sleepy!”
I smiled under my mask.
“Mooooom!”
“MOOOOOM!”
“WHAT?!”
“How much longer?”
“Nine hours.”
“How many minutes is that?”
“Lily, please!”
“Is it more than a hundred?”
“HOW MANY MINUTES IS THAT?”
“Five hundred and forty,” I said.
Her mother leaned forward.
“Nobody asked you!”
“Sorry. Occupational hazard. I like accurate numbers.”
Lily started counting to 540 out loud.
At sixty-three, her mother cracked.
“FIVE HUNDRED AND FORTY.”
“Stop counting!”
“Why?”
“You’re giving me a headache!”
“But I like counting!”
“Then count in your head!”
“How do I do that?”
“YOU’RE GIVING ME A HEADACHE!”
In twenty years of medicine, I had never wanted an answer to a question so badly.
“Okay. New game. I say a word, you say one that starts with the last letter. Apple.”
“Elephant.”
“Tiger.”
MONKEY.
“Refrigerator.”
THE BIGGEST ONE STUCK OUT HIS TONGUE.
“Rabbit.”
“This is boring!”
Three minutes. A new record.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
But this time, her mother heard every single kick. No headphones. No tablet. Just the sound of her own child, in surround.
BUT THIS TIME, HER MOTHER HEARD EVERY SINGLE KICK.
“LILY! Stop kicking his seat!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s annoying!”
“But you said he had to deal with it!”
I turned around.
“She’s got a point.”
“BUT YOU SAID HE HAD TO DEAL WITH IT!”
“STAY OUT OF THIS!”
“Gladly. I’ve been trying for three hours.”
Lily tugged her mother’s sleeve.
“Mom!”
“What?!”
“I’m hungry.”
“STAY OUT OF THIS!”
“You just ate!”
“That was two hours ago!”
“Then drink some water.”
“I don’t want water!”
“Then don’t drink anything!”
“But I’m thirsty!”
“BUT YOU SAID HE HAD TO DEAL WITH IT!”
Her mother rubbed her temples.
BANG.
“STOP KICKING!”
“My legs are tired!”
“Then put them somewhere else!”
“Where?!”
BANG.
“I DON’T KNOW!”
I turned around.
“Everything okay?”
“DO I LOOK OKAY?!”
“You look like someone dealing with a child.”
“I’ll complain about you!”
“DO I LOOK OKAY?!”
“Go ahead. Tell them I answered a math question.”
She turned on her phone. Four percent.
“Here. Play a game. Quietly.”
Seven minutes later:
“Mom, it died.”
Welcome to the club. Membership is free. Sleep is not included.
FOUR PERCENT.
Emily gave Lily a coloring book. Ten minutes later, she was bored again.
But very soon, something I’d stopped even thinking about was about to happen.
Her head appeared between our seats.
“Are you a real doctor?”
“Real enough.”
“Have you cut somebody open?”
“ARE YOU A REAL DOCTOR?”
“Several times a week.”
“Did they cry?”
“They were asleep. Lucky them.”
“Lily! Don’t talk to him!”
“I’ve been asking you to talk to her for three hours.”
Her mother pulled Lily back.
“THEY WERE ASLEEP. LUCKY THEM.”
“Stop bothering the man.”
“But he’s a doctor!”
“And he’s off duty,” I said.
Lily kicked my seat again.
Her mother was about to blow a gasket.
And I did something even I hadn’t expected. I offered to help.
HER MOTHER WAS ABOUT TO BLOW A GASKET.
I remembered something my sons did whenever we were stuck waiting at airports. It usually bought me twenty minutes. Today, I’d happily settle for five uninterrupted minutes of peace.
“Lily, ever solved a crime?”
Her eyes widened. “A real one?”
“An extremely serious one. Somebody stole the last chocolate cookie from my kitchen, and nobody confessed.”
“Who?”
I OFFERED TO HELP.
“Three suspects. My sons and our dog. Your mother gets to be the detective.”
“Absolutely not,” her mother said.
“Then the criminal walks free.”
“Mom! Please! I want to catch him!”
THUMP.
“FINE! What’s the evidence?”
“THEN THE CRIMINAL WALKS FREE.”
“Hold on,” I said. “Every detective needs a badge.”
I drew a star on my notepad.
“Detective Lily. Officially appointed.”
Lily grinned like she’d just been promoted.
“Where’s Mom’s badge?”
“She’s the chief. Chiefs don’t need badges.”
“EVERY DETECTIVE NEEDS A BADGE.”
Her mother gave me a look.
“Convenient.”
“Hospital politics taught me.”
Lily held up her paper star.
“Can I arrest people?”
“Only after you find evidence. And no kicking suspects.”
“CONVENIENT.”
“Even bad guys?”
“Especially bad guys. They might kick back.”
Her mother snorted despite herself.
“Do we get handcuffs?” Lily asked.
“Budget cuts,” I said. “You’ll have to use your imagination.”
“That’s a terrible police department.”
“YOU’LL HAVE TO USE YOUR IMAGINATION.”
“You should see our coffee.”
The man one row over raised his cup.
“I’d like to file a complaint.”
“Take a number,” I told him.
Lily started searching her mother’s purse for a pen.
“Ask permission first,” I said.
“DETECTIVE LILY. OFFICIALLY APPOINTED.”
“Mom, can I borrow it?”
“Yes. Thank you for asking.”
“See? Already solving crimes against airplane etiquette.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Lily drew another star and handed it to her mother.
“DON’T PUSH YOUR LUCK.”
“Now you’re officially my partner.”
Her mother examined the badge.
“Does this job come with a salary?”
“Cookies,” Lily said.
“Apparently, those are missing,” I replied.
I held up three fingers.
“NOW YOU’RE OFFICIALLY MY PARTNER.”
“Ben had chocolate on his shirt. Max had crumbs in his pocket. And the dog had an empty cookie wrapper beside his bed.”
“The dog did it!” Lily announced.
“Detectives don’t guess,” I said. “They interrogate witnesses.”
Her mother sighed. “Fine. Why did Ben have chocolate on his shirt?”
“He was baking brownies.”
“THE DOG DID IT!”
“And Max?”
“He said the crumbs came from crackers.”
“What about the dog?”
“Can’t talk. Excellent lawyer.”
Lily giggled.
“Mom, ask about the wrapper!”
“DETECTIVES DON’T GUESS.”
“Was it torn open?”
“No. Neatly folded.”
Her mother leaned forward, interested despite herself.
“Dogs don’t fold wrappers.”
“Exactly,” Lily whispered. “Someone framed him!”
“Now you’re thinking like detectives.”
“COOKIES.”
“Did Max eat the cookie?” her mother asked.
“He did. Ben caught him and made him clean up. Max planted the wrapper to blame the dog.”
“That’s cheating!” Lily protested.
“That’s crime.”
“Another case!”
I pointed at her mother.
“ANOTHER CASE!”
“Detective, your turn. Invent a mystery. Your assistant can question you.”
“I don’t know any mysteries.”
“Something missing from home?”
She looked at Lily.
“My good lipstick. Last Tuesday.”
Lily suddenly studied her shoes.
“SOMETHING MISSING FROM HOME?”
“Oh, now THIS is interesting,” I said.
“Lily?”
“I only used it to color my doll’s mouth!”
Her mother stared. Then laughed for the first time all flight.
“Case closed,” I said, pulling down my mask. “Absolutely no further appeals.”
Behind me, Lily demanded another mystery. Her mother began inventing one about missing house keys.
“CASE CLOSED.”
For once, they were talking to each other instead of shouting at me.
I fell asleep.
When I woke, landing was an hour away. Four hours of sleep. Not bad for a man nearly murdered by pink sneakers.
Lily was asleep against her mother’s shoulder. The woman looked as exhausted as I had felt in Tokyo.
Before landing, she leaned forward.
“Proud of yourself?”
I FELL ASLEEP.
“Very. Four hours.”
“You could’ve suggested that game earlier.”
“I did suggest something earlier. You told me to move.”
She looked away.
The wheels touched down. Lily woke.
“Mom, can I have your tablet?”
“YOU COULD’VE SUGGESTED THAT GAME EARLIER.”
“Not yet.”
“I’m bored!”
Her mother closed her eyes.
“Please. Five minutes without that word.”
I stood and reached for my bag.
“Good luck, ma’am.”
“PLEASE. FIVE MINUTES WITHOUT THAT WORD.”
“With what?”
“The ride home.”
In the terminal, Sarah had texted: Ben and Max were waiting for me.
I couldn’t wait to see my boys.
But first, I’d hug my wife and beg her never to buy them light-up sneakers.
I COULDN’T WAIT TO SEE MY BOYS.
I’ve spent twenty years fixing hearts. Sometimes the best cure for a headache is giving it back to whoever caused it.
