The older woman's hands unfolded and the lace handkerchief changed position slightly. "Well, you see, I'm a widow and I have a married daughter in New York. Sometimes I get lonely and want to visit her. So what I do is go to Los Angeles and get on an airplane that's going to New York."
"Just like that? Without a ticket."
Mrs. Quonsett seemed shocked. "Oh, my dear, I couldn't possibly afford a ticket. I just have Social Security and this small pension my late husband left. It's all I can do to manage the bus fare from San Diego to Los Angeles."
"You do pay on the bus?"
"Oh, yes. The Greyhound people are very strict. I once tried buying a ticket to the first stop up the line, then staying on. But they make a check at every city, and the driver found my ticket wasn't good. They were quite unpleasant about it. Not like the airlines at all."
"I'm curious," Tanya said, "why you don't use San Diego airport."
"Well, I'm afraid, my dear, they know me there."
"You mean you've been caught at San Diego?"
The little old lady inclined her head. "Yes."
"Have you been a stowaway on other airlines? Besides ours?"
"Oh, yes. But I like Trans America best."
Tanya was trying hard to remain severe, though it was difficult when the conversation sounded as if they were discussing a stroll to the corner store. But she kept her face impassive as she asked, "Why do you like Trans America, Mrs. Quonsett?"
"Well, they're always so reasonable in New York. When I've stayed with my daughter a week or two, and I'm ready to go home, I go to your airline offices and tell them."
"You tell them the truth? That you came to New York as a stowaway?"
"That's right, my dear. They ask me the date and the flight number---I always write it down so I'll remember. Then they look up some papers."
"The flight manifest," Tanya said. She wondered: was this conversation real or just imagination.
"Yes, dear, I think that's what it's called."
"Please go on."
The little old lady looked surprised. "There isn't anything else. After that, they just send me home. Usually the same day, on one of your airplanes."
"And that's everything? Nothing else is said?"
Mrs. Quonsett gave a gentle smile, as she might have done at a vicarage afternoon tea. "Well, I do sometimes get a little scolding. I'm told I've been naughty, and not to do it again. But that really isn't much, is it?"
"No," Tanya said. "It certainly isn't."
The incredible thing, Tanya realized, was that it was all so obviously true. As airlines were aware, it happened frequently. A would-be stowaway merely boarded an airplane---there were plenty of ways it could be done---and sat quietly, waiting for departure. As long as the stowaway stayed away from the first class compartment, where passengers could be identified easily, and unless the flight was full, detection was unlikely. It was true that stewardesses would count heads, and their tally might disagree with the gate agent's manifest. At that point a stowaway would be suspected, but the agent in charge would be faced with two choices. Either he could let the airplane go, recording on the manifest that the head and ticket counts did not agree, or a recheck could be made of the tickets of everyone aboard.
A recheck, if decided on, would take most of half an hour; meanwhile, the cost of holding a six-million-dollar jet airplane on the ground would soar. Schedules, both at origin and down the line, would be disrupted. Passengers with connections to make, or appointments, would grow angrily impatient, while the captain, conscious of his punctuality record, would fume at the agent. The agent would reason that he might have made a mistake anyway; moreover, unless he could show good reason for a delay, he would get a roasting later on from his District Transportation Manager. In the end, even if a stowaway was found, the loss in dollars and goodwill would far exceed the cost of providing a free ride for a single individual.
So what happened was that the airline did the only sensible thing---it closed the doors, and sent the airplane on its way.
That was usually the end of it. Once in flight, stewardesses were too busy to do a ticket check, and passengers would certainly not submit to the delay and annoyance of one at journey's end. Therefore the stowaway walked off, unquestioned and unhindered.
What the little old lady had told Tanya about returning was