Archive of Our Own

When Bing Bong woke up that morning, for just a percentage of a second, he didn’t know who he was.

He had forgotten what he had done the night before; what a fool he had made of himself. He had forgotten the drunken rambles, the tears, and the seemingly endless upset.

But just as quickly as he forgot, he remembered.

He remembered, for he was sleeping in a bed that was large, and cold.

He remembered, for it had been 6 months since he had felt the warmth of his beloved wife sleeping next to him.

3 months since the divorce.

12 hours since his first date as a divorced man.

Things could not possibly get any worse. This was rock bottom.

Bing Bong looked at the empty side of his bed, and realized he had lost his peak.

Where things went wrong, he couldn’t tell. It happened suddenly. One day, he and Miriam were making pancakes for the kids on a lazy Saturday morning. The next, there were discussions of separation and taking a break.

And then came the papers. Although the process was amicable and nowhere near as problematic as Bing Bong feared, he still felt the hurt. How couldn’t he? Years in a loving marriage, raising children they adored, achieving milestones together as a team. 

All gone, just like that.

“Mr. Bong,” his divorce attorney repeated, taking Bing Bong out of his own thoughts. “How have you been?”

Bing Bong blinked in surprise. Since when had he been on the phone? “I guess so…” He responded, half-heartedly.

“Well, with the kids’ visitation rights secured, the worst has come to a pass.” The attorney responded.

“Y…Yeah…”

The worst? That was it? Bing Bong couldn’t believe it. Because from now on, he would be alone, only seeing his kids on the weekends… and waking up and going to sleep in that empty bed of his. He was half-tempted to throw the whole thing away and get himself a smaller one, just to forget that he had ever known what going to sleep in Miriam’s arms felt like.

Miriam… oh, Miriam.

Bing Bong thought they would last forever. Like a fairytale.

But nothing that is good lasts. Everything has to come to an end, eventually, and the good things? They’re the first to go.

Things like the debt he still has to pay off from the airline he created, or the scrutiny he faced from the people around him when he and Miriam decided to raise a family together.

That… was never going away. That, Bing Bong would never forget, for that was his life now.

The things he was before haunt him. A father. A family man. A businessman. An innovator in aviation marketing.

Now he was Bing Bong, the divorcee on the brink of bankruptcy.

Bing Bong Airlines was his pride and joy. He came up with the branding all by himself, and kickstarted the project using his own funds. With the help of a few lucky investors and the even luckier fact that his competitors in low-budget flights were quickly going down right as he got started, Bing Bong Airlines had soon become the #1 name in budget aviation.

Sure, he managed to save a few million bucks by paying his technicians a lower wage. Sure, he let his long-time engineer go to save on costs. But Bing Bong Airlines made up in charm and community appreciation for what it lacked in… technical aspects.

The people loved Bing Bong. Kids would go beg their parents to fly on his planes purely to get their limited-edition Bing Bong plushie (his own invention.) He would get stopped in the street for pictures, and even had his own set of merchandise released: a propeller hat, a knitted green top, Bing Bong™ Low-Waisted Pants, and more.

Bing Bong Airlines isn’t just an airline. It’s an experience.

Bing Bong reminisced on all of that as he walked into the dreadfully empty Bing Bong Airlines section at the airport. Dozens of Bing Bong™ novelty items, untouched. No one taking pictures at the photo booth. Not even one bored onlooker messing around with the giant chess set.

Ever since his accountant had warned him that they would have to sell the airline sooner rather than later, Bing Bong had come here nearly every week, trying to think of what he could do. And of course, this critical piece of news came right as the divorce was unfolding.

"NO!!!!!!" Bing Bong had screamed, almost shaking his accountant by the shoulders as he heard the news. “P...please don't..."

“I’m sorry, but this is the only way out. We need to let it go.” The accountant lamented.

So, you see, Bing Bong’s life had unraveled at a rate that was almost comical.

Do you understand? A plushie can only take so much.

He tried, he really did. But what was the point of continuing those attempts? Not only regarding the airline and his finances, but his love and family life, too. Without Miriam and the kids there to greet him after a hard day’s work, Bing Bong had nothing to motivate him to keep going.

What did he have left?

An airplane, an empty king-sized bed, kids’ toys that would only be played with once a week, and a dream…

Bing Bong doesn’t want to recall how that date went.

He had gathered up the courage to ask out this beautiful woman he met by chance at the local supermarket, and she accepted to go to dinner with him.

“I’m Bing Bong”, he introduced himself.

“I’m Mildred”, the woman giggled.

She was completely unlike Miriam in appearance, and personality too, as he later found out. So, he thought he would be able to forget about his ex-wife and just have fun with his new paramour.

But as soon as the wine arrived at their table, the tears came out like a flood.

Mildred, sweet and kind Mildred, tried to comfort him, offering him a friendly ear. Before he could stop himself, he was telling her all about the separation, the kids, the papers, the attorneys, how Miriam had already moved on…

“I miss my wife.”

“I know, Bing Bong… I’m sorry.”

“I miss my wife...”

Bing Bong had ruined it. He wasn’t ready to go back to the dating scene, not this soon.

Mildred called him an Uber, and waited for it to arrive. Bing Bong was still tipsy, hanging by her shoulder and silently sniffling his tears away.

“You know, Bing Bong,” Mildred began, offering him another napkin, “maybe you could talk to a professional about this.”

“No.” Bing Bong whispered.

“I think it would be good for you. I’m in therapy too, you know. And my friend had a divorce like you, and she went to therapy as well. It really helped her come to terms with what happened and move on. If you’d like, I can ask her for-“

“No!!!” Bing Bong repeated, louder this time. Realizing his mistake, he silently apologized, and lowered his tone. “I think that’s a bad idea…”

“Why?” Mildred asked. “I know it can be scary to talk to a stranger about your life, but it’s better to give something a try than to stay put in the same place, don’t you think?”

"N-nuh uh..."

...Was the last thing Bing Bong remembered saying before he blacked out.

Bing Bong had a dream.

Of a mountainous island in the middle of nowhere, home to no one.

A rocky beach, a tall jungle, an icy mountain, and a volcano surrounded by floating rocks.

In that dream, Bing Bong climbed, and climbed, and climbed. He reached the top of the rocks and the mountains, he survived the risky jumps and the falls he swore would hurt like hell. Running purely on adrenaline and nothing else, Bing Bong climbed.

On top of the volcano, there was the peak. A beautiful, dreamy little green hill decorated by flowers of all colors.

Just by seeing it, he felt at peace.

It reminded him of the fun, eventful picnics he, Miriam and the kids would go on every second Saturday of the month. He and Miriam would sit and watch the kids play and frolic on the park’s grass.

Miriam would feed him her own homemade cookies, and Bing Bong would wipe away leaves that would get stuck to her silky hair. That always made her laugh. She was the most beautiful when she laughed.

And in the dream, just as he was about to reach the hill, he could see Miriam and Jimmy waving at him –

He woke up.

Hope you’re doing okay. The landlord let me in. Drink plenty of water when you wake up and take an aspirin.

Here’s the therapist’s contact. He’s a specialist in the area.

Hope you feel better soon.

• Mildred

“I'm... not sure..." Bing Bong whispered to himself as he read the number noted down in sweet Mildred’s handwriting. He really did need help, he recognized that.

But wouldn’t talking about it all make it worse? He’d have to recall all the pain, and the good moments too, which only makes the pain worse.

…No, it’s not a good idea. Therapy can’t dig him out of his hole; it can’t magically fill his business’ bank account; it can’t bring Miriam back…

No mental health professional can turn back time and bring Bing Bong back to that beautiful peak.

That’s something he’ll only ever see in his dreams for now.

Bing Bong quickly wrote a text message to Mildred, thanking her for looking after him and apologizing for what happened. He was not ready to take this step, he explained.

How will you, if you’re dealing with this all by yourself?

Mildred’s response was not enough to convince him.

Bing Bong, I’m concerned about what you’ll do if you don’t talk about your feelings.  What are you going to do?

Bing Bong only wrote one sentence as a response, shutting down the subject:

"I'm not comfortable answering that...”

The truth is, Bing Bong never dreamed of becoming a family man, or even of having his own airline named after himself. As a kid, he wanted to become an astronaut. As a teen, all he cared about was tabletop games. Miriam was the one who, in early adulthood, inspired him to make his life something more.

But there was something that Bing Bong had never done. Something he had been curious about for some time.

Bing Bong had never actually flown on a Bing Bong Airlines plane before.

He didn’t have to, after all Bing Bong Airlines was for budget flights, and until recently, Bing Bong didn’t need to budget. Maybe now it’s the time.

Who knows, perhaps sudden inspiration will hit him as he’s up in the skies, looking at what he’s been able to build and what he could he do to save it from being sold and scrapped for parts.

And Mildred had told him to do something instead of staying still. This is something.  Yes, it’s a good idea.

Bing Bong purchased the plane ticket – the first one he found – and headed to gate 7 as soon as he could. He checked in, sent in his bags, and waited for his plane.

It was a long wait, but the excitement of doing something different, something that could change things for the better, kept him occupied. Instead of thinking about Miriam, he thought of what he could see on this trip. What realizations he could come to in his travel.

It was Bing Bong Airlines, after all, not just any old stinky corporate airline. Bing Bong Airlines was different. It wasn’t only an airline; it was an experience.

And Bing Bong was ready for one.

He was ready for anything that would make him forget.

“Gate 7, group A…”

As the gate began to open, Bing Bong lined up right behind a small group of colorful scouts.

And so, Bing Bong left behind all the hurt, for just a little while.

…….

It hurts…

Where are we?

Nobody’s responding to the flare…

Pink, do you see that luggage?

Careful, Blue, the wing’s on fire!

Okay guys, we should try to climb up that mountain. Maybe we can call for help there.

Wait…

Don’t leave me.

I still…

I still haven’t made any new memories.

I haven’t found a way… to reach that place.

I haven’t… said I’m sorry to Jimmy and Katie and Brooke…

And… that I loved Miriam until the very end…

I don’t…

I don’t want to die…

Hey, hold on, hold on! Someone’s on that seat.

We should help him up.

Never leave a scout behind, remember?

Bing Bong couldn’t see where the blue scout was headed.

He was placed inside his backpack, almost slipping out but still somehow secure as the group began to climb and jump around the shore’s rocks.

“I don’t know,” Yellow began, opening some luggage, “he’s taking up a lot of space, and we only have one backpack. What if we find some climbing gear, or a first aid kit? We’re gonna need space.”

“We can’t abandon him to die!” Blue argued.

“But he can’t climb, and he’s not useful for climbing, is he? He’s just… Bing Bong.”  Pink chimed in, shrugging.

Blue hummed, stopping for a moment to place his backpack on the sand. He picked up Bing Bong, and looked straight at him.

“Bing Bong, do you have any experience in climbing?” Blue asked, squeezing him.

A beat.

“If i say yes, will you take me with you?"

Blue laughed. “You’re funny. Don’t worry, we’re not leaving you behind. Scout’s honor.”

Bing Bong was safely placed back in the backpack, this time more snugly.

He wondered what would happen to him next. There was still so much he wanted to do.

As the scouts climbed, he wondered…

If they would reach the peak he had dreamt of, or this was the beginning of a nightmare.

Regardless…

He felt alive.