The jet took off moments later, soaring over the sea on its way north, back to the city, back to the gritty nights and the business of living. Just over the reef, the plane turned to the right as most planes did on the flight path out of this remote island, and continued its ascent. Paul and Diane stood on the tarmac and watched it leave, knowing they would have to prepare for its eventual return when it would be more convenient for Se�or Alberto and his thugs to kidnap their son. Paul rubbed Diane�s back as he stared daggers at the departing plane, then he guided her back to the jalopy for the ride back home to the shack.

A loud explosion nearly tossed them off their feet. Paul and Diane spun around, and the villagers in their jalopies gasped as burning bits of the plane flew apart and scattered into the water.

�What did you do? Leave a loaded diaper on the plane?� Paul gasped.

�I thought maybe one of your locals may have tacked a bomb onto the fuselage from the outside,� Diane said with wide eyes. All the wide-eyed locals shook their heads in response; they were still stunned into silence.

The group watched the wreckage for a few minutes, then Paul took his family home as the local fire department and rescue teams sprung into action, blaring sirens, laughing, eager to exercise their seldom-used skills.

�Everything is going to be okay now,� Paul said, touching his son�s tiny hands. He smiled as Michael wrapped his little digits around Paul�s index finger. �Who would have ever thought I�d have a family,� he whispered.

Diane looked up at him, watching him adore his son. �Hey,� she said.

Paul looked up at her, �Hmmm?�

�Can we stay a while? I can�t see getting on a plane any time soon.�

�Please,� Paul�s face was earnest.

�Good,� Diane said, and they both focused their attention on little Michael as the jalopy bumped along the road to Paul�s shack on the beach.