The Return of Amelia Earhart

by Peter Cherches

When Amelia Earhart finally returned, a banquet was given in her honor.  Exultant friends, senior citizens all, and admirers, many of whom had not yet been born when Amelia disappeared somewhere in the Pacific, back in 1937, showered the triumphant, if somewhat tardy, flyer with gifts and kisses.  An international dinner was prepared by a team of the world's finest chefs.  Everybody was ecstatic--everybody, that is, except for Amelia.  While her friends reveled in her good fortune, the aging aviatrix was depressed and withdrawn.  She felt strange among people after all these years.  And when asked for details of her great adventure, and her many seasons in limbo, she would reply, simply, "I once was lost, but now I'm found," in an uninflected monotone, wishing she had not cheated history, and yearning to return to her simple life among the shells and sponges.