Love Story: In The Cloud

by Ken Renshaw

  When I was a few minutes away from Tina's apartment, I called to say I was nearly there. She said she would meet me at the street so I wouldn't have to find a place to park. Again, I noticed this unusual feeling or energy around my heart. Interesting,'I thought.

  As I turned the corner onto her street, I saw her standing at the curb, wearing light blue jeans, white tennis shoes, and a brown patterned blouse. That is a nice leggy look, I thought. She was rocking up and down on her toes, apparently in anticipation of the outing. She saw me, smiled broadly, picked up a picnic basket and a down jacket, and walked off the curb. As I stopped, she put the basket and her jacket in the back seat, and slid over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Tina always has an impish smile, as though she was up to something, or about to present me with a surprise.

  She looked at me in mock seriousness and said, "Two seats in the glider–you promised?"

  That broke the ice and I laughed. "I called the airport and they have reserved a two seater for us."

  "Are we going to fly far or land somewhere else? Should I bring the picnic in case we get stranded on that dry lake?"

  "No," I said, "We will take off and get towed toward the mountains. If we are lucky, there will be a wave we can fly back and forth on. We might fly for about an hour and land back where we started."

  "What is a wave doing in the desert?"

  "The wind blows north from LA into the desert in advance of an approaching storm. If it is at the right speed and direction as is passes over the mountains, the wind does a thing like water flowing over a rock in a creek. It flows down and then jumps up into a wave. This desert wave can go up tens of thousands of feet. You are in for a great experience."

  Tina smiled her impish smile and said, "This sounds like fun, or maybe a little scary?"

  "I think fun. For soaring, this is like a day off."

  "Can you tell me more about your new case? Elise was quite impressed with your interest in channeling. Oh, what did you think of Herondus?"

  I paused for a minute. "I must say I was impressed. One of my assets as an attorney is my B.S. meter. I can sense a scam or a lie or a fraud very easily. I had the feeling that it was all very real, although I am not yet too comfortable with the idea of intelligences speaking from other dimensions."

  She interrupted, "Maybe your B.S. meter is really a psychic perception. You might be a psychic practitioner and not realize it. Have you heard from Mason lately?"

  "No, but I have been learning about the things he suggested, out of necessity for my lawsuit. Events seem to be conspiring to lead me on that path."

  "That seems to be the way things work for me when I am headed in the right direction," she observed. "And Herondus?"

  "First, I was very surprised by the meeting itself. I expected the audience would be a few dozen New Age weirdoes or old hippies. They looked more like West LA or Hollywood types, mostly affluent, pretty together as a lot. I was expecting a more Haight-Asbury, San Francisco crowd than a Rodeo Drive or Melrose crowd.

  "Herondus upset me a little bit by running down logical thinking. That is how I make a living! But, everything he was saying about conscious thinking being only a small fraction of our brain usage is supported by a whole lot of scientific research. I must admit that I use logical thinking to present a case for certainty, as a shield against people knowing what I really am feeling, That's what lawyers do. His whole idea of vulnerability is a bit foreign to me. I equate vulnerability to weakness, something one must avoid."

  Tina wrinkled her nose and said, "Oh, I guess that is a guy thing, being the warrior, defending the tribe, protecting the traditional ways. That kind of vulnerability is concerned about making sure you don't have to experience something, such as being killed or having children or a wife carried off into slavery. That kind of vulnerability starts with, 'I don't trust you, so I have to defend myself against you.

  "There is another kind of vulnerability that begins with trust. I encourage my high school students to practice being vulnerable in my creative writing class. When they have a writing assignment, I encourage them to write from their hearts, pick out topics that have personal meaning, explore ideas without worrying about what the other kids will think. In class, after the kids hand in their assignments, I pick a couple to read to the class, without identifying the author. The students trust me to protect their anonymity, although some times the topic is such that the other students can guess the author. Then, the students critique the writing. The authors can trust me to control the discussion to prevent malicious comments and bullying and make the criticism constructive. We sometimes get to address some very personal feelings. That is a good educational experience.

  "My friends often talk about our emotional vulnerabilities in relationships. One of my friends allowed herself to trust a guy, she fell deeply in love with him and then had her heart broken when he dumped her. She is unconsciously having difficulty trusting and having that vulnerability with any man again. We always ask ourselves, 'Do I really want to risk really getting deeply involved with this guy, and possibly get dumped in the end? Is he honest with me, or will he mislead me into thinking we are developing a relationship, when from his viewpoint, I am temporary entertainment while he hunts for a mate that will fit into his professional goals or will please his parents with their ethnic or religious values?' We usually do this questioning on an intuitive basis: we go with our gut or heart and feelings. There is little logic in it. Maybe that is why we can be so vulnerable."

  I sensed she was on the verge of a rant, so I interrupted. "Thanks, I think I understand a little more. But isn't this a genetic thing, instinctual, that is mostly in women? I can't recall ever having a conversation with one of my friends about fear of getting too involved because we might get dumped. Sometimes one friend who is getting involved with a lady will be warned, 'Be careful, you might get caught.' Caught is the opposite of dumped." I was starting to feel a little uneasy about where this conversation led.

  She paused for a long time before replying, perhaps intuiting my feelings.

  "I think it is a fundamental psychological need of everyone to be known, recognized, and understood. People use various shields to prevent this, for instance, my friend, the one who got dumped, has all kinds of ways to ward off attempts to know who she is. Being known starts with trust, which she has little of, now.

  "Oh, I have a good example of male vulnerability. In Herondus' weekends, he makes opportunities for the people in those first few rows to get help with personal problems. At the weekend I went to, there was a young man who said he was in love with a woman but somehow didn't feel quite right about marrying her. He wanted to know what he should do. Herondus started questioning him, like an attorney, in cross-examination. Every answer led to another insightful question. It became apparent to the audience that the man had irrelevant opinions and assumptions that were stopping him. Herondus made jokes, not malicious ones, of many of his answers to illustrate the man's error in thinking. Eventually, they got to the crux of the matter: the man had a big case of puppy love for his teenage baby sitter when he was eight. One day, after months of great rapport, which the man interpreted as love, the babysitter arrived very upset. When the boy tried to get his usual attention, the baby sitter locked him in the closet for two hours while she cried. The boy thought it was his fault she was unhappy, and felt shame for it, and decided to never to trust any one with his love again.

  "After the man had this revelation he was happy again and thanked Herondus. Then, Herondus gave a little lecture to the whole audience about the issues in the man's problem and how they might pertain to our lives.

  "The man had to be willing to be vulnerable to ask a question and then go through the public embarrassment in the dialog that followed. He had to trust Herondus to guide him to the answer of his most pressing life question. He had to be willing to know himself, no matter what might be found, and to be known by the audience."

  "I can see how that works," I said. "But, being vulne
rable isn't really about being willing to be embarrassed in a cross-examination, is it?"

  "No, it’s more a matter of going to the depths. My friend who got dumped has to keep everything superficial. She will only dip her big toe into a relationship. Being vulnerable is like being willing to wade into a relationship up to your waist with the possibility of going all-in, over your head."

  She laughed and added, “Maybe you could give me a soaring metaphor. We are going to the desert, not the beach."

  "OK," I replied, pausing for a moment. "Some power plane pilots take glider lessons only long enough to get Gliders added to their pilot's license. Then, they never go gliding or soaring again.

  "Some people take lessons, get their pilot's license, and then only come out for a few days of flying around the airport, never getting out of landing range.

  "Others, like me, I guess, make soaring a life passion. We are willing to take our chances flying great distances over barren lands, sometimes ending up far from the airfield, or on a dry lake bed or somewhere."

  She laughed and added, "Even risking conversations with Mason jars.

  You have the idea."

  My turning off the freeway to get gas interrupted us.

  After our stop, when she got back in the car carrying two cups of coffee, she had her impish grin that suggested she was up to something.

  "It's cold and the clouds look like rain. Are we really going soaring or is this some kind of trick?"

  I laughed and said, "No, this is good wave weather."

  "I'd better see this wave or else I'll never believe anything you say again. This had better not be some version of 'come up to my place and I'll show you my etchings.' Here, I have a treat for you."

  She reached into her jacket pocket and produced two Snickers bars. She unwrapped the end of one and handed it to me. "Try this," She said.

  "Oh, no thanks, I'm not much on sweets."

  "How long has it been since you have had a Snickers bar?"

  "I can't remember the last time I had one."

  "Be vulnerable and try it. Trust me, they are good. There is little risk in eating a Snickers bar. Go for it! Trust me!"

  I took a bite and said, "Actually, this is pretty good."

  She unwrapped her bar. took a bite, and an expression of great pleasure came over her face. "Some times, I would do anything for a Snickers bar."

  "I'll bear that in mind."

  She laughed and gave me an expression of mock scorn, unbuckled her seat belt and slid over next to me and said, "Are we almost there, yet?"

  After about a minute of silence while she subtly snuggled up to me, she said. "I know a fun game to pass the time. You concentrate on a picture of something and I'll try to tell you what it is. See if I can make a mental shortcut between us"

  She paused and seemed to be sensing that I was a little uncomfortable with psychic stuff.

  "Be vulnerable. Give it a try. Start now."

  I quietly stared down the road.

  After about twenty seconds she said, "It looks like something red, a red spot, and it's bouncing up and down, kind of like a yo-yo. What were you picturing?"

  She saw the shocked expression on my face and said, "Come on, don't cheat, tell me."

  "I was watching the red taillight on the car in front of us. It is moving up and down because the road is not perfectly level. That's amazing! Can you read my mind?"

  "No, that is a kind of game my brother and I invented, for when we were kids, on trips with my parents. All I can get is vague images. I think I have an intuition about how you are feeling about things when we talk. For instance, right now you are a little upset, not with me, but with the idea that I can perceive what you are seeing."

  "You’re right about that. I understand about The Cloud and all that on an intellectual level, but it is against the scientific belief system ingrained in me by all my previous education and professional experience. I am going to have to get used to it. How do you change an ingrained belief system?"

  "Exposure, and dialogue are what I use. These high school students I teach have some weird belief systems. The first step seems to be getting them off their certainty in what they believe. That is a vulnerability thing."

  We were silent for a while as Tina looked at the scenery. The trip from LA to the desert starts with industrial buildings lining the freeway. That scene gives way to older housing tracts with an abundance of trees. Then, as one moves to the desert, the newer housing tracts have fewer trees. After that, the countryside turns to dry chaparral covered hills and occasional mobile homes. It always amazes me that people in these wide-open spaces seem to accumulate clutter around their houses: derelict cars, rusty horse trailers, oceangoing boats on cradles, miscellaneous building materials, and storage sheds. In places, there are the isolated tracts of homes, sitting like islands in the desert, surrounded by high beige cinder block walls, where the open space has been covered with cookie-cutter homes crowded together a few feet apart. People buy them because the homes are cheaper, and then spend enormous amounts of money and time commuting.

  "I really don't know much about you," said Tina, "Where were you born, raised, and what was it like where you grew up, what were your friends like?"

  We told each other stories until we reached the airport. I noticed that I felt closer to her. She was right, it took a little trust in her for me to openly tell her about myself. I did start to understand about trust and vulnerability.

  As we turned on the road leading to CrystalSky Airport, Tina said, "It's overcast, you can't even see the tops of the mountains. It doesn't look like a soaring day."

  I said, "It looks really good for a wave to develop. See how the clouds are moving fast from the direction of the mountains. If the wind shifts a little bit it will be just right for a wave. We had better be ready to fly when the condition appears."

  We drove to the operations building, a slightly weather-worn mobile home with a swamp cooler on top, not running today. The door was open and inside I met Dan, the tow pilot. I arranged to rent the high performance two-place sailplane. Dan said he would send the office girl, Celia, to tow it to the takeoff line with the ATV.

  Dan said, "The other day there was a strange nerdy guy out here who asked which sailplane trailer belonged to you. He looked it over for a while, but didn't get into it or anything, as far as I could tell."

  "Thanks, I'll check it out after we are all ready to go in the two-place. Don't want to miss the wave opportunity. Was he a white, male Caucasian, five-five, stocky build, grey crew cut, gold rimmed glasses?"

  Dan looked puzzled and said, "Yes, a friend of yours?"

  "No, but please call me at home if you ever see him again."

  As we walked over to our two-place, Tina observed, "Wow, the wings are really big and shiny, and they have these little ears going up at the ends."

  "The wingspread is eighteen meters, nearly sixty feet. This one is a lot harder to put together than mine, which is only fifteen meters. These things at the end make it fly farther."

  "Do I get to sit in front or back?"

  "Front. I can fly from the back seat and see over your shoulders."

  I completed my preflight check, inspecting the wings, tail, controls, and cockpit. Celia came over with the ATV and I hooked the rope to the big glider. Tina and walked holding the wingtips off the ground while Celia towed us to the staging area.

  "Let's see how you fit in the front seat,"

  Tina got in and I showed her how to adjust the seat belt and shoulder harness.

  Tina joked, "Maybe I should have worn a sports bra. These shoulder straps don't do much for a girl's figure. They are more flattering if I spread them outside my bust line like this."

  I replied, "They are not a fashion statement. You might not like the way they are squeezed by the harness when we hit a downdraft. Nobody is going to be looking at your figure. I'll be behind you, you know."

  Tina, bent over and looked at the instrument panel. “Where are all
the gauges? I have seen the cockpits of other airplanes and they have lots of gauges."

  "In a glider all you need is a compass to tell you which direction you are going, an airspeed indicator for how fast you are going there, an altimeter, and a rate-of-climb gauge to tell you how fast you are going up or down. Gliders are all about flying, not gauges."

  I asked her if she was warm enough and she said yes. We sat down next to the glider, leaned our backs against the hull, opened our thermos of coffee, and cupped our hands around the cups as we drank.

  "What is there about soaring that attracts you to it so much?" asked Tina as she patted the sailplane. "It's kind of a guy thing, isn't it?"

  "I had never thought of it as such, but I guess you are right. There are few female pilots. I recently read David Brooks' book, The Social Animal, and he made the case that much of our behavior is derived from subconscious thinking. We have mental processes going on that we do not know about, exhibiting behavior that is often instinctual in nature, and displaying patterns of behavior we learn from parents, siblings or other role models. Maybe soaring is a primitive need for conquest, overcoming or harnessing nature, or maybe it is about freedom, as in free-as-a bird. All I know is that I need, no, must do it.

  "Some guys own sailplanes, keep them in trailers tied down out here, but hardly ever fly them, like the people who have yachts that never leave the marina. To them, it might be an ownership-identity kind of thing.

  "For me, I have to fly, and it is good to get away from the office and LA. It allows me to get away from whatever case I am working on and to think of something else. One time, I took off at 10:00, later felt hungry, looked at my watch and found it was 2:00. I had been too busy concentrating to eat lunch. There are thrilling aesthetic experiences to be had flying among the clouds. Today could be one of those days."

  I looked atTina and said, "Somehow, I wanted to share that with you today."

  Tina looked back at me affectionately and said, "I'm glad."

  Dan walked over and said, "Look, the gap is starting to form in the eastern part of the ridge. Better get ready to go in a few minutes."

  We got up and brushed the dust off our pants. I said to Tina, "You walk the wing tip so it doesn't drag on the ground and I'll push us into takeoff position."

  We rolled the big plane to the center of the runway. I helped Tina strap herself in the front seat and got into the back seat, strapped my self in, and said to Tina, "I am going to go through my check sheet and then we will be ready to go. We will wait until the wave gets more established"

  Before the wave forms, clouds are streaming over the mountains and the whole sky is overcast. Then, as the wind changes to the right direction, a gap a mile wide starts to form on our side of the mountains. It is as though someone unzips the clouds along the mountains and reveals the clear blue sky.

  Celia came out to assist in our takeoff. She attached the Pawnee's tow cable to the glider and then went to the wingtip. I was ready to go so I gave her a thumbs-up.

  I said to Tina, "Ready to go?"

  She replied, "Yes, this is scary!"

  I signaled Dan by wiggling my rudder. We started down the runway, and in a few seconds we were flying, staying low to the ground, to let the tow plane get flying and up to full speed.

  Tina cried, "Wee, this is fun! I'm flying."

  The tow plane began to climb. I pulled back on the stick to follow him. I said to Tina, "In a few minutes it will get turbulent and the tow plane will suddenly go up a hundred feet or down a hundred feet, and I will follow. It is like roller coaster ride, but won't last long."

  There was quiet for a few minutes and then Tina giggled and said, "This is really fun! Look, there is the Devil's Punchbowl. It really looks different from up here."

  In a few minutes we hit the turbulence near the wave. The tow plane suddenly shot up to forty-five degrees above us, and a second later we were pushed down in our seats as the sailplane was thrust upward. Then, the tow plane almost disappeared below us as it entered falling air and we soon followed, being thrust upward against our shoulder harness by the acceleration, heads nearly bumping on the canopy. We chased the tow plane down and then suddenly he was above us again. Immediately we were again pushed down in out seats.

  After a few minutes of this roller coaster ride, as we were again being thrust down in our seats, Tina asked in grunt, "Are we almost there, yet?"

  "Almost there," I replied. "In a minute you will hear a loud 'twang' when I release the tow rope. That is normal."

  In a few seconds the turbulence vanished into an astounding silence. The tow plane stopped moving up and down and seemed to hover in front of us. "Twang!" I released the towrope and the tow plane turned to leave us. I turned the sailplane to fly parallel to the mountains. The air was as smooth as glass and the sailplane flew in astonishing silence.

  "Tina, see that gauge on the right, pointing up at forty-five degrees? It is telling us that we are climbing four hundred feet a minute, while we are flying at sixty miles-per-hour. If we moved right, toward the mountains, the lift would decrease. Close to the mountain, we would lose altitude fast. We are in a thin band of smooth, climbing air. Off to the left is turbulent air like we came through on the way here. I'll fly that way a little bit and you will be able to feel the wingtip vibrate."

  I steered a little bit left and then we could feel the shudder of the wingtip in the turbulent air. We had climbed through the gap and were now higher than the mountains, flying in smooth, clear blue air. We could see the flat sea of overcast to the South covering LA, stretching over hundreds of miles. To the North we could see the clouds forming over the Sierra range. Ahead, at the edge of the wave, a roll cloud was forming, a long, stationary cloud rolling in the lee of the wave. Wispy fingers of cloud, like waterfalls, streamed upward for thousands of feet, creating rainbows and sparkling in the sun.

  "This is magical!" said Tina in a low voice, "Silently flying along something that looks like Niagara Falls, turned upside down. I can see forever over LA. Almost a spiritually transcendent experience."

  "I agree," I replied, as I reached forward and put my hand on Tina's shoulder. Tina lifted her hand and placed it on mine. We flew like this for several minutes and then I started to feel a little turbulence.

  I made a few slight turns and said, " I think we have to head back, we are at the end of the wave. Were about as high as we should be without oxygen and we don't want to get up to where the airliners fly. We don't have to worry about being here, airline pilots will avoid the wave areas. They like to keep their passengers from bouncing off the cabin ceiling."

  I reversed course. As I got into the glassy smooth air, I returned my hand to Tina's shoulder. Her hand returned to mine, and we silently enjoyed the spectacular experience, riding both the wave of air and the wave of joy.

  I flew to where we could drop out of the bottom of the wave and took a less turbulent route back to the field.

  We rolled to a stop in the sailplane tie-down area, I opened the canopy and we both sat silently for a minute.

  "That was amazing!" said Tina.

  We both unbuckled our harness and climbed out onto the tarmac. Without a word Tina gave me a big hug, held me and said, "Thank you, I'll never forget that experience. But, now I have to visit the ladies' room."

  I replied, "After I tie this bird down I am going to walk down to check out my sailplane trailer. I'll meet you there."

  I suddenly felt uneasy as my attention turned to my sailplane. I closed my eyes, and saw, in a visualization, the vague outline of something scratched in the ground under my trailer. I hurried to the trailer, and there it was. A symbol was scratched in the hard earth under the back of the trailer; the same symbol drawn in the dust of Candice's windshield in the parking garage. I took out my cell phone and took several pictures. Then I took out my keys and opened the access door into the trailer. Nothing seemed to be disturbed. I checked the access door on the other end where everything also seemed normal. '
There might be prints,' I thought. When I looked closely, I could see the normal desert dust grime on the trailer around the doors had been wiped clean. 'I'll let Dore's security people know about this tomorrow.' I said to myself.

  Then, Tina walked up and cheerily said, "Picnic time!"

  The cold wind was coming up, driven by the wave-weather.

  "We need a sheltered place for our picnic," I said. "We could go over to the patio behind the mobile home."

  Tina dropped her eyes and said, "Not today, let's go somewhere out in nature."

  "OK," I said, "That wasn't supposed to be a trick. I know just the place."

  We went back to the airport office and I paid my bill and wrote a note requesting people inform me if Mr. White-male-Caucasian-five-five-stocky build-grey-crew-cut-gold-rimmed-glasses showed up again.

  "What was that about?"

  "I'll tell you at lunch," I replied."

  We drove up a dirt road alongside the airfield to the end and then turned uphill on another steep rough dirt and desert rock road. Near the top of the hill, we came to the ruins. There, only the stacked river-stone walls of a barn remained, the roof of which was long gone, with a cement floor and an open side to the North where nearly all the rock wall had fallen. We went inside to where the walls sheltered us from the wind and it was warm in the sun. A clean, but weatherworn picnic table sat near the wall by a fire pit, which had apparently been made from some of the rock from the fallen walls.

  I explained that a glider pilot I knew had cleaned the place up and used it as a place to park his RV when he came to fly.

  "It is a beautiful view," said Tina.

  Looking away from the mountains toward the Sierras, we could see the clouds were broken and spotty sunlight was illuminating patches of desert. As the clouds moved, the desert seemed engulfed by waves of light and dark.

  "Why is this here?" asked Tina.

  "I have told you about the great, greed-driven dreams for California City up north from here. This ruin is an earlier version of that. Almost a century ago, there was socialist-utopian-driven dream of building a planned city here. The logic of the idea was great, there was more rainfall then, so farming was possible. But, some of the movement joiners were not driven to do their share of the labor, and others were not driven to share their wives. The colony fell apart in a few years. Way down there, at the bottom of this ridge, there are still some olive trees, which have survived from that era."

  Tina observed, "One has to be careful of what dreams one buys into, especially if they are based on greed, or something-for-nothing, or other men's wives. In spite of all that, the energy at this spot is really good. Must be happy cow energy."

  She glanced at me, apparently thinking she had gone somewhere she shouldn't with me.

  "You are right," I replied.

  Tina looked surprised and said, "I thought you didn't believe in energies and things like that."

  "It doesn't bother me now. There can be a shortcut is The Cloud to when there were happy people and happy cows here."

  "I am sorry I didn't pack any milk to drink. We will only have coffee today," said Tina as she started to unpack the picnic basket. She gave me a mysterious smile I did not understand as she took off her down jacket.

  Today, she had a different table setting. The tablecloth was blue and white checked and the plastic plates were white. The tumblers were stainless steel and said Starbucks on the side. She set out a crystal dish of olives, celery, small tomatoes, and radishes. She unwrapped sandwiches.

  "I was thinking as we drove up here that I could write a narrative of the wave flight, all the turbulence, and then the beauty, and the potential danger lurking a few feet away, and then some more turbulence, and a glide to a smooth landing. Then I could give it to my high school students and ask them to use that as a metaphor to write a story about people interacting, teen age dating, ups and downs, for example."

  I continued the thought. "I had never thought about wave flying as a metaphor. I have certainly had some turbulent relationships, though.

  "Lately, my life hasn't been ups and downs so much. It is more like the overcast clouds of my life are unzipping, exposing a whole new blue sky of something I don't understand, and need to explore."

  Without saying anything, Tina reached in the picnic basket, pulled out a magic marker and a napkin and wrote something on it. She pushed it across the table to me, put her chin on her hand, and looked at me with her impish grin. On the paper was a big "A+."

  "Thanks," I said. "Oh, I almost forgot to mention, I had a premonition that proved to be true today. Before I went to check on my sailplane trailer, I had a great feeling of uneasiness and had a visualization of seeing something scratched in the ground at my trailer. When I got there, I did see something that alarmed me, a mystical symbol scratched in the ground. That symbol appeared on the windshield of one of my key witnesses car while she was in my office. Colson is having their security consultants check it out."

  "Premonition, OK, extra credit for that," She said nodding and adding raised eyebrows to her grin.

  "I love the desert," she added. "This has been a wonderful day. I do have to be back early tonight because tomorrow I have to correct papers and do grades. Maybe we should stop by your desert mobile home to let me freshen up."

  She grinned mischievously and added, "Do you have any Snickers bars there?"

  I felt that mysterious energy around my heart again.