The sort of people you meet on planes don't seem to exist anywhere else in the world.

On one flight, I met a woman with a pet goat that was actually a clone of a previous goat she'd owned. On another, I met a man who was traveling across the country to meet a woman he'd met online in a unicycle riders forum. She’d never even sent him a picture. On one flight, just a quick one from Atlanta to Tallahassee, I was seated next to the woman who grew the largest watermelon in history, at least until 2007 when a Texan grew a bigger one. The woman insisted the Texan had cheated by resorting to genetic engineering, which went against the spirit of the competition. "Once you go in and change the DNA of a watermelon," she said in her thick country accent. "It's no longer really a watermelon, now is it? So maybe it's the biggest something, but it ain't a watermelon."

It's the strangest ones you don't suspect, though.

I’d just flown from New York to England, where I transferred to Prime Select, a small airline and the only one capable of taking passengers to Aldonia. The plane was small, no more than fifty seats, and my ticket placed me next to a woman in her late forties, contently reading something roughly the size of two phone books, with an even smaller font. She looked up from behind her reading glasses to offer me a brief, British-accented, "Hello," before returning to her text.

I put my carry-on bag below the seat in front of me, and was reaching in to pull out my headphones, when she followed up her greeting. "Is this your first time going to Aldonia?"

I told her it was.

She placed her plane ticket in-between the pages of her book and closed it, placing it across her lap. "It's a truly lovely country," she said. "What brings you there?"

I sighed. "It's a long story," I said.

"How long?" she asked. "We have three hours."

"Not quite that long," I struggled with how to explain it. I really hadn't told the whole story to anybody because I didn't have anybody to tell it to. "My girlfriend left me," I said.

"Oh my. I'm sorry."

"For my best friend."

"That's awful."

"On my twenty-seventh birthday."

She paused, her hands patiently sitting on the book in her lap. "I'd be furious," she stated with little inflection.

It was hard to imagine this composed woman, the epitome of British culture, having any emotion approaching furious. Mild indifference, perhaps. Maybe even inconvenienced. I can imagine her in my situation, where Jane and Erik, holding hands, let me know they’d become close after their road trip. The one I was too busy to join them on. Erik's arm moved around Jane's shoulder. This woman probably would have said, "Well, that's quite a bother," then they would have all had tea together and that would be that.

"I was pretty upset," I said. That was putting it mildly. The three of us did not have tea together. No, I cried. Yes, the former marine, twice decorated for his service in Iraq, cried like a waterfall.

"I can't imagine how that must have been."

The pilot came over the PA system to announce we were about to take off and instructed us to watch the safety video, which played in the background according to aviation requirements. Both of us ignored it.

"I couldn't find a place to move to right away, so we had to continue to share the apartment we'd rented. Then I got an email offering me a job in Aldonia."

"What kind of job?" she asked.

"I'm not sure I'm allowed to talk about it."

She nodded, and I saw a hint of intrigue flash across her face.

"It's something with the government," I said.

"Interesting. They're still a monarchy, you know."

I didn't. Nor did I much care.

"It's a somewhat strange form of government. They have a queen who ultimately rules, other than the fact that the citizens can vote to overrule any royal decree. It's referred to as a democratic dictatorship."

"Fascinating," I said, with as much emotion as I could put behind it without actually caring. "I've dealt with dictatorships during my three tours in Iraq. I'm sure I can handle whatever it is they might throw at me."

She shook her head. "No, it's nothing like that. They're quite a peaceful nation, actually. You say you're military?"

"Former marine," I said.

"It's quite unusual the government would need you for anything."

"It's the peaceful nations that usually need the US to do their dirty work."

She laughed. "Oh, all right. Yes, yes. The colonies won their revolutionary war and then saved us from Hitler. We Brits are very thankful. No hard feelings."

"That's not what I meant."

She was still laughing. "Wherever would the world be without the US there to save us?"

"Ma'am," I said. "I put my life on the line three times to protect my country and the rest of the world from power hungry dictators. I've had shrapnel removed from my leg and friends die. What have you done with your life?"

"Fair enough," she said. "I didn't mean to bring up politics. I appreciate your bravery and if the Aldonian government needs you, I'm sure they have a perfectly good reason."

"They do," the truth was I had no idea if they did or not. They said they would explain when I arrived. All I knew was they would pay me $15,000 a month while I was there. And the reason I agreed was it would get me as far from Erik and Jane as possible without taking a rocket into outer space.

The plane engines whirred and powered us down the runway into the air. The woman returned to her book and I took the opportunity to put my headphones on, canceling out the world around me and allowing me to fall into a light sleep. This was it. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but the plane was in the air and there was no turning back. Aldonia, here I come.