by T. E. Cruise
“Andy, these were my colors exactly,” Gold said in wonderment. “The Fokker I flew looked exactly like this …” Gold stared at his grandson. “How could you have known—?”
Andy was beaming with pleasure. “I asked Uncle Steve …”
“Ah.” Gold nodded. His son Steven was here in Los Angeles, staying in one of the Malibu beachfront houses the family owned as an investment. The Air Force had given Steve a well-deserved extended leave after the fabulous job he’d done in service to his country, and his country’s ally, Israel. When Steve had told Gold how well the Vector-A system had worked, and how he himself had fought to protect the Jewish homeland—Well, Gold would not be ashamed to admit to anyone that tears had come to his eyes as he’d contemplated his beautiful son.
For the past month since Steve had been home he’d come to visit Gold every morning. They would sit in the sunny garden off the solarium, near the splashing marble fountain, and talk quietly about life and what the future held.
Steve was going to the Air Force war college at Maxwell Air Force Base in Alabama in September. Gold had been gratified to hear his son confidently predict that he would be graduating at the head of his class come the end of the yearlong course—
“… I never thought I could do it, Pop, but now I know I can. I did a lot of even tougher work when I was on General Howie Simon’s staff. And I did a lot of managerial administration and writing in Israel, in order to set up that pilot training program …”
“Yes, son … I always thought you were capable …”
“I know you did, Pop. You always believed in me. But sometimes it just takes awhile for stuff to sink into a guy, you know … ? Once I thought there was a limit to what I could be, but now I know that’s not true … Things change, Pop … Things change …”
“So my boy really will be a general officer someday …?”
“And you’ll be there to see it, Pop. I promise. You’ll be the one to pin the stars on my uniform …”
And sometimes the two men didn’t talk at all but were content to merely sit together in each other’s company … Things change, Steve had said. Things change …
“You really like my present, Grandpa?” Andy was asking.
“Like it?” Gold exclaimed. “Andy, I love it!”
“At the office that day you got sick, you said that you didn’t have one like this …” The boy was looking proud. “And I remembered you said it, so I made you one—”
Gold stood to cross to the fireplace. “It’s going right here on the mantel, where it will be safe, and where I can see it whenever I want …”
Gold positioned the model, and then went back to embrace his grandson. “Andy,” he murmured into the boy’s silky blond hair. “Do you know what? I think your gift must be the best airplane ever built by a Gold—”
“Grandpa?” Andy had tilted back his head to look up at Gold. “Someday I’m gonna be a fighter pilot like you—”
“Is that right?” Gold laughed with pleasure.
“Yeah, and like Uncle Steve—”
“And like your brother, Robbie?” Gold coaxed.
Andy frowned. “Maybe …” he said reluctantly.
Gold sighed. He’d been afraid of this. Andy was now old enough to be aware of his half brother’s coolness toward him, and had begun to reciprocate in kind. Maybe it would help if Robbie and Andrew could spend more time together, but that wasn’t in the cards.
USAF Captain Robert Blaize Greene, winner of the Silver Star, had completed his tour of duty in Vietnam, and had been rotated stateside. Robbie was currently stationed at Seymour Johnson AFB in North Carolina, where he was a flight leader in a TAC wing of F-4 Phantoms.
As much as Gold was disturbed by the rift between Robbie and Andy, he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. The two would someday have to work out the conflict between them. Meanwhile, Gold would be somewhat comforted by the memories of the rifts between him and his own son, now healed. Robbie and Andy would make their peace someday, Gold was sure of it. The underlying foundation of this family was strong. Famiy ties would ultimately bring the half brothers together.
“Tell you what, Andy,” Gold began brightly. “Seeing as how you want to be a pilot, I’ve got a present for you.” He went over to his desk and began rummaging through its center drawer. “If I can only find it,” he muttered. “Ah! Here it is—” He motioned the boy over, and then handed him the tarnished, silver dollar-size circle of metal. “That was my flier’s breast badge from the Imperial Air Service. I wore it on my uniform during the war.”
Gold watched his grandson study the medal. It showed in relief a Taube monoplane flying over a landscape contained in a laurel and oak leaf wreath, with the Prussian royal crown at the top.
“You keep it, Andy,” Gold said. “I wore it through all twenty of my victorious dogfights. After the war I kept it, bringing it with me to America. It was in my pocket when I met your grandmother. When I began the business. When my children and grandchildren were born, all of you healthy and strong. It has always brought me good luck. Perhaps it’s blessed my life. I hope it does as much for you …”
“Thank you, Grandpa,” Andy whispered. “I love you.”
“I love you, too …” Gold nodded, the depth of his feelings so strong it was painful.
Gold watched his grandson leave the study, the flier’s badge clutched tightly in his palm, and then he turned back to the fireplace mantel to contemplate the Fokker triplane model—his new lucky charm …
Looking at the model, Gold couldn’t help pondering how his life had begun, and now seemed to be moving full circle. He’d started as a wide-eyed boy in love with the sky, and now it appeared as if that love had been transferred intact to a third generation of Golds.
Yes, life had been so good to him; so full … As vast as the sky, which itself had always been a friend to the Gold clan …
He turned away from the mantel, his brow furrowed with thought. Themes were evolving, slowly taking shape in his mind as he wandered back to his armchair. He put on his glasses, picked up his pad and pen, and began to write, tentatively at first, but faster and faster as the ideas flooded into his being.
Thanks to a little boy full of love, and a model airplane, he had found the topic for his Bar Mitzvah discourse.
Gold, muttering thoughts to himself, hurried over to the bookcase where he scanned the Talmud’s bindings in order to pluck the first volumes he would need from the shelf. He took the books and his writing materials to his desk so that he could begin work in earnest.
The spiritual seed germinating so long within his soul had sprouted. For Herman Gold, another great adventure was beginning.
SKY MASTERS
* * *
They call it the postwar years, but the threat of conflict never far below the surface. In this time of precarious peace known as the Cold War, the powerful firm of Gold Aviation and Transport dares to show the world America’s best. Pioneers in the revolution of commercial jet flight, trailblazers in the vital race for military dominance of the heavens, the proud men and women of the mighty Gold dynasty courageously meet the challenges hurled their way in the skies over Russia, the Middle East, Vietnam, and Central America. Rivalry and envy divide them, loyalty and love unite. , them, yet their greatest glory days lie before them…