Short Story “Part I – Peter, there a bomb on my plane!”

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Part I –
Peter, there’s a bomb on my plane!

2010 © Patient X

My name is Peter Eric Williams and this is my story of a series of events which happened many years ago. It was so long ago that I don’t remember the date it happened.

I lived then in Canberra, the national capital of Australia. I worked for the federal public service Department of Defence. No, that’s not a spelling mistake, American readers. We do spell defence with a ‘C’ not ‘S’, like you.

I am a draftsman and technical officer working for the Royal Australian Navy section of Defence. Much of my work is classified so I can’t go into details. Anyway I don’t know much as information is shared only on a ‘need to know basis’. That means that the only people who know secrets are, well, in the know.


Mum and Dad are Greta and Ern Williams. They live in the town of Victor Harbor (again not a spelling mistake!). It is two hours drive south of Adelaide which is the capital city of South Australia. It’s on the coast and it popular with tourists and retirees.

Mum is planning to visit me this weekend. It will be good to see mum. She gives great hugs and we love each other deeply. Dad has paid for mum’s return ticket, and mum posted me a copy of her itinerary print out from the Flight Centre shop where she bought it.


I am known to the boys at the office simply by my initials P.E.W. Or pew for short. I like this name because a pew is the chair you sit on in church to pray and I love to go the church and say my prayers. I find it peaceful and I can always talk to GOD.

I remember when I first started work in my office my supervisor was Mr Peter Lennox. He didn’t want me called Peter, because that would confuse him with me.

So Mr Lennox asked me

“My name is Peter”

“We can’t call you Peter. It’s taken. My name is Peter”

“What should we call you?”

“Well how about pew? That’s my initials. Like the church pew”

“Okay pew”

I farted loudly.

He said “pew by name, pew by nature. You really do like to earn your name, pew.”


Present day.

It’s a Friday and I am sitting on the sixth floor of a large seven floor, four building complex of offices. I am in my cubicle.

I am working on a Computer Aided Drafting (CAD) drawing on my computer. It’s complicated and hard and a bit boring.

I like my job.


My mind drifts to thinking about mum and her spending the next week at my place with me. We will be on holidays together.

We plan to play tourist and visit cafes together.

I have mum’s travel itinerary in my haversack. I unzip the bag and get it out. I open it up and start to read it.

The phone rings. I answer. “Hello, Peter Williams”

“Peter. I love you.” It’s mum. “Hi, mum. I love you too.”

“Peter…” mum’s voice is trembling. “the man sitting next to me just told me that there’s a bomb on the plane.”

“Okay. Don’t panic!”

“Don’t panic. That’s easy for you to say. I don’t want to die!!!”


“Because I’m afraid. And I miss dad.”

“Oh. Well, why not hang up and phone dad. Do you know his number?”

“Yes, of course I do. I have it memorised.”

“Well, you hang up now. I don’t want the battery on your phone to go flat. Okay. I love you.”

“Okay. I love you.”


Mum hangs up. So do I.


I stand up and grab my A4 notepad, pen, flight itinerary and start to run down the corridor.

“Dave, Dave…” there is someone standing in my way in the corridor.

“Get out the way!”


I run into Dave Worrall’s cubicle. He is a mate and he is a Chief in the Navy.

“Dave, mum’s on a plane and there a bomb on it, ya gotta help me!!!”

“Slow down, pew! Did you say a bomb?”

“Yeah. Mum phoned me just now from her plane.”

“OK. That’s all I need to know.”

“What do you mean? I haven’t told you everything….”

I shove all the papers into his hands.

“That’s the plane’s itinerary”

I point to the flight number.


“Where did you get this?”

“Mum posted it to me last week.”

“Pew, your a bloody genius. Now don’t panic! I know what to do.”


“I’ll fix everything.”



“I want you to scramble two jet fighters to meet the plane. One on each side.”

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

“I’ll just phone my mates in the Air Force. I’ve got to make a phone call now.”

I stand there, stunned.

Dave makes a phone call to the Royal Australian Air Force.

“I’m reporting a bomb threat on board an QANTAS airline flight number…. Yes, the threat was received by Mr Peter E. Williams (pew) at the Navy Office. That’s what we call him. I believe every word he says.”


I can’t remember what happened next.

Next thing I remember I am sitting back at my desk.

The phone rings and I answer.


“I love you!” says mum


“Why? Because you are my son.”

“What’s happening?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Wait there mum. Look out the window. What do you see?”

“I see a little dot. Oh, it’s getting bigger.”

“What is it???”

“It’s a jet fighter, mum.”


“Yes, mum”

“Why? How?”

“Because I love you. I told my friend Dave to save your life.”

“Thank you, darling.”

“My pleasure.”


The dot gets bigger and takes the shape of a jet fighter aircraft.

It is the Good Guys from the Air Force.

Dave had come through with his promise.

Mum says “It’s a jet plane.”

“How did you do that?”

“I just told Dave that I love you and you are in danger and he did the rest.”

“Oh, your wonderful, Peter”

“Look out the window.”

“What’s out there? Oh, the pilot is holding up a sign.”

It says:


then he holds up another sign


then he holds up another sign



All of the passengers on the plane, except the terrorist sitting next to mum start to yell

“Hurray.” They are very excited and happy. There is a lot of cheering.

— The End

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About patientxmarksthespot

Patient X is a nice guy. Religious and church goer. Not a big Bible reader. Owner of a beautiful cat. Currently single and looking to find a woman as a partner to marry within a few years. Active on one particular internet dating website with over 160 women 'buddies' and chatting via emails on that site to a few of those women. Published poet with three books printed; being collections of my poems. Also collaborated to compile anthology of other poets works. I have been previously published as Patient X with 6 mini-short stories and some poems to my credit. These stories have appeared, at various times online on the www. These were horror/humour and mostly non-fiction and faction. Pat Ientx X
This entry was posted in Air Force, Air Force, Best Mates, Canberra, Department of Defence, Don't Panic, Family, Happy Ending, Holiday, Mum, Navy, Phone call, RAAF, RAN, Royal Australian Air Force, Royal Australian Navy, Short Story, Short Story, Short Story, Son, Terrorist and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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