Fig Wasps

by Robert B. Miner

(The below is an excerpt from an essay that won the Creative Writing award of the Military Writers Guild)

The evening news begins the broadcast with a clip that other outlets across every media have been airing all day. In it, a crowd of Afghan men, women, and children are gathered on a runway around a C-17 military aircraft. Their hands are raised, begging. Some hold babies aloft like offerings to an uncaring god. 

When, after a few moments, the plane starts rolling forward, the crowd surges along with it, still shouting, still hoping against hope. The plane accelerates. The people, too. Some fall and disappear beneath the stampede.

As the nose of the plane rises, the camera zooms out to show the fullness of the scene. The wider frame makes the people seem more like ants, especially the way they cling to the landing gear in bunches, but it only takes a few seconds for most of them to let go of the wheels and regain their personhood. Once the plane is airborne, they seem to realize, there’s no hope anymore. The cries from the crowd, once pleading, change to something more mournful.

The final moments of the clip don’t include the people on the ground. The camera pans up, capturing the plane on its ascent. But there is a tiny figure still attached to one wheel. A man, holding on for his life. Maybe he is frozen by fear. Maybe he believes he can hold on for the duration of the flight, make it safely to the ground again. Whatever the reason, the plane climbs with the man attached. His legs dangle and flail. 

And then he falls. He cartwheels through the sky toward the earth. Toward death. He becomes a tiny dot in a vast blue sky. He must be screaming, but there’s no sound from the video anymore, only the news anchors talking in somber tones…

Robert B. Miner writes fiction, screenplays, and journalism. A New York City native, West Point graduate, and occupational dilettante, his short fiction and non-fiction has been published widely in literary journals and periodicals. His work has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. He lives in Kansas City with his wife, two kids, and dog.