Back to Yesterday

by Pamela Sparkman

  “Are you ever afraid?”

  “Of flying?” I asked. “No.”

  “Are you afraid of anything?”

  “I’m human, Sophie. I have fears like anyone else.”

  “What fears?”

  I didn’t want to get into the things that scared me and we had reached her house by then, so I said, “Some other time perhaps.”

  We stood facing one another a moment longer than we ever had. The magic in the air still crackled around us and it left me feeling brave enough that I swept a loose curl behind her ear. “I wondered what it would feel like.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “This.” Slowly, gently, I kissed her, offering her a taste of what I could give. My heart was thumping, my pulse was racing, and I felt that tingling warm sensation in my stomach that I only ever felt when I was flying across majestic landscapes or over the wide ocean blue.

  Pulling back, I traced the seam of her lips with the pad of my thumb, memorizing their softness, their taste.

  “Are you in love with me yet, Sophie?”

  In a voice that had lost its confidence, she said, “Not yet.”

  “How much longer you think?”

  “It could be a while,” she whimpered. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. “I need to help my mother start dinner.”

  “Sophie.”

  She pulled away. “I need to go inside. See you tomorrow?” she asked, voice trembling. She cleared her throat and turned away, fidgeting with the lock, and swinging the gate open.

  I placed my hands inside my front pockets, took a step back, and crashed back to Earth. “Same time, same place.” And because I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer I said to her retreating back, “It’s easier if you don’t fight it.”

  She didn’t hear me because she had already closed the door.

  I didn’t go home the night I kissed Sophie. Well, not right away. I paced outside her house for about fifteen minutes, contemplating this relationship we had, until I heard music playing.

  I looked all around until I pinpointed where it was coming from. An upstairs window was open. I saw the curtains blowing in the breeze and then I heard Sophie’s voice trickle down to me, her voice crisp and lovely.

  Look who’s here

  Look who’s here

  Here’s the boy I am mad about

  Oh my dear

  When he’s near

  I just feel like passing out

  So big and strong

  So full of youth

  Oh mama, Oh papa

  tell me the truth

  Ain’t he sweet

  I had the biggest smile any man could ever smile, planted right on my face as she sang Ain’t He Sweet by Annette Hanshaw. I began tapping my foot to the rhythm of the music while she continued to unknowingly serenade me.

  See him coming down the street

  Now I ask very confidentially

  Ain’t he sweet?

  Huh, ain’t he nice

  Look him over once or twice

  Now I ask you very confidentially

  Ain’t he nice?

  Just cast an eye in his direction

  Oh me, oh my

  Ain’t that perfection

  At some point her father had stepped out onto the porch and heard Sophie singing enthusiastically. I lifted my finger to my lips, not wanting him to interrupt. He shook his head, grinned, and sat down on one of the rockers while I continued to listen. When she finished I cleared my throat rather loudly. Sophie was at her window in a flash. “Charlie! What are you still doing here?”

  Even from this far away I could see how hot her cheeks were. In the most casual, nonchalant way I could answer, I shrugged. “Why, listening to the show, of course.”

  “Charlie Hudson!”

  “Yes?”

  “Why I oughta–”

  “Careful now. Your father is on the porch.” I knew her penchant for cursing and didn’t want to get her into trouble. However, I was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

  Her mouth snapped shut.

  With my hands in my pockets, I turned to go. “Good night, Mr. McCormick,” I called over my shoulder.

  “Night, Charlie,” he called back.

  “Good night, Sophie.” I started singing Ain’t He Sweet as I walked away.

  “I’m gonna get you back, Charlie!” Sophie yelled, halfway hanging out her window.

  In between singing the lyrics, I responded, “I’ll look forward to it.”

  That song was stuck in my head for the rest of the night. It was also probably the best night’s sleep I ever had.

  ~ The Sweeplings

  On & On

  It was about three in the afternoon when I knocked on Sophie’s door. I knew she would be home because I had learned Sophie’s schedule pretty well. I reached to adjust my tie, a habit I had when I felt jittery, only there wasn’t a tie to adjust because I wasn’t wearing my uniform. Today was recreational. I smoothed one sweaty palm down the front of my buttoned-down shirt and picked a piece of lint off my khaki pants. This could go one of two ways. She could say no or she could agree. Sophie was predictably unpredictable so I had no way of knowing which answer I would get.

  When her mother answered the door, right away I could tell where Sophie got her beauty. Sophie had her mother’s dark hair and blue eyes, only her mother’s eyes weren’t quite as blue.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am,” I said, reaching for my invisible tie again. “Is Sophie home?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “My name is Charles, err, Charlie.”

  Opening the door wider, she said, “Oh, so you’re Charlie? Come in. Sophie is in her room. I’ll go up and get her.”

  I brought my right arm from behind my back, the one holding the flowers, and held them out for her. “These are for you.”

  She paused before reaching out to take them. “For me?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry we haven’t met before now.”

  She accepted the flowers graciously and held them up to her nose. “They smell lovely, dear. Thank you. I’ll go put these in some water.” She motioned me inside. “I’ll be right back.”

  I waited inside their entryway for only a couple of minutes. It was enough time to look around. Their home was inviting with red drapes on the windows, a fireplace, a floral armchair, wall-to-wall carpeting, and two sofas. Then I caught a whiff of freshly baked cookies.

  Sophie’s father emerged from the kitchen, wiping cookie crumbs from his mouth. “Charlie, hello.”

  “Hello, Mr. McCormick.”

  “Good to see you. Sophie didn’t mention anything about going out today. Does she know you’re here?”

  “Uh, not yet. I thought I would surprise her, sir.”

  Sophie’s mother came back carrying a vase and placed it on the table by the door, rearranging the flowers. “Now I can see them from most any room in the house from here. Thank you, again.”

  “You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.”

  She smiled. “I’ll get Sophie for you.”

  Her parents shared a look and I pretended to not notice. I clasped my hands in front of me and rocked back on my heels, trying to appear relaxed.

  “Don’t mind me,” her father said. “I’m just gonna stand back here and pretend to be invisible.”

  “Charlie? What are you doing here?” When I heard Sophie’s voice I looked up. She was leaning over the banister railing at the top of the stairs.

  As soon as I saw her all of my nervous anxiety vanished. I smiled. “I’m here to pick you up.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Pick me up?”

  “Yes. We have a date.”

  “You didn’t ask me out.”

  “I most certainly did. You promised me a second date, remember?”

  “But I’m not–”

  “Were you washing your hair?”

  “Well, no, I–”

  “Good, I got here in time then.”

  Crossing her arms, she said, �
�You can’t just show up. That’s not how it’s done.”

  “Ah, well explain it to me then.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sophie’s father lean against the kitchen doorway, eating another cookie, quietly listening to our odd exchange. I got the feeling he was mostly entertained by our interactions.

  “First of all you set a day and a time.”

  “You’re right. Let me start over. Sophie, will you go out with me today and we can meet in this exact spot at about…” I eyed a clock on the wall, “Three forty-five?”

  She huffed in exasperation. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I’m always serious.”

  “I think you should go out with him, dear,” her mother chimed in from an upstairs room.

  Feeling rather pleased I said, “I agree with your mother.”

  “Of course you do. She’s on your side. You brought her flowers!”

  “Well he didn’t bring me flowers,” her father cut in, wiping crumbs. “And I think you should go out with him too.”

  Sophie threw her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at me.

  Innocently I asked, “What?”

  “You – you keep doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “First, it was Elizabeth. And now you got my parents liking you. How are you doing that?”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “Honestly, Sophie, no one is conspiring against you here.” Her father chuckled. “And I sort of have a surprise for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a surprise. I’m not gonna tell you.”

  She flashed a smile and then remembering she wanted to be mad, she quickly bit it off.

  I placed my hands inside my pockets. “Come on, go out with me.”

  “Right now?”

  “No, I’m giving you half an hour to get ready.”

  Her father’s shoulders were shaking with laughter though he made no sound.

  She huffed. “Fine. Whatever. But you’ll be waiting longer than half an hour. You might want to get comfortable.” Before she spun around I saw the corners of her mouth lift.

  “Take your time.” I said. “I’ll wait on the porch.”

  “Oh, and Charlie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Your fly is undone.”

  Embarrassed, I quickly looked down. And then she laughed. “Made you look.”

  Her father shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, son.”

  For the first time in my life, I didn’t have the first clue. And I was okay with that.

  Our second date.

  My second chance.

  It had to be good. It had to be.

  I briefly glanced at Sophie before turning back to the road. She was wearing a white dress, black belt, black gloves. Her hair was down, long and wavy to her shoulders. And she was wearing her signature red lipstick. She was a vision of sweet beauty. I looked back to the road then glanced at her again.

  “What?” I said. “Why are you staring?”

  “I’ve never seen you drive.” She angled her head to the right, then to the left, and to the right again.

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “I’m…looking for clues.”

  “Clues to what?”

  “To where you’re taking me. Why won’t you tell me?”

  “I told you. It’s a surprise.”

  “Hmm,” she said, tapping her chin. “What could it be? We’re going in the wrong direction to be going to the movies. I guess we could be going to dinner, although, it’s a bit too early for that and we’ve passed plenty of places.” She studied my profile while she made her mental list. I could feel my skin heat under her gaze the longer she perused me. “Plus, you borrowed Tank’s truck. What are you up to, Charlie?”

  I continued to drive, letting her bask in her curiosity. She would find out soon enough.

  When we made it to our destination, she looked around. I could see the wheels turning in her head. I climbed out of the cab of the truck and made my way over to her side, opening the door for her, and making a dramatic sweep with my hand.

  “After you, sweetheart.”

  “What are we doing here?” she asked, stepping out. I reached for her hand and led her over to the gentleman who was waiting for us.

  “She’s all ready to go,” William said, gesturing to the Boeing PT-17, painted in its yellow and blue glory, waiting to be flown. I had met him through a friend I worked with on base. He was allowing me to take his plane up, and Sophie was coming with me, only I failed to mention that part to her.

  “You brought me here so I could watch you fly?”

  I squeezed her hand. “No, I brought you here so you could fly with me.”

  She took a couple of steps back, dropping my hand like a rock. “No, Charlie. I am not getting in that plane!”

  I thought she might say that, so I came prepared. I looked at William and shook my head. “Pay up.”

  Having planned this with William in advance, he pretended to be disgruntled while he took out his wallet and prepared to hand over my winnings.

  “What are you talking about?” Sophie said.

  I waved it off like it was no big deal. “Ah, nothing. I bet William that you wouldn’t go up with me, that you’d be too scared.”

  “I’m not scared…I just…don’t want to is all.”

  “Right.”

  “You think I’m scared, Charlie? I’m not scared.”

  This time, I took a step back and looked at her with skepticism. “I bet you won’t get in that plane with me and let me take you flying.” Yes, I was challenging her.

  Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hands on her hips. “You’re betting me again?”

  “Easy bet. Easy money.”

  She was scorching me with her glare. “Ha! Have you forgotten I never lose?”

  I shrugged and tilted my chin in the direction of the plane. “Prove it, then.”

  She stared at the plane with an open cockpit and double seating, one behind the other, considering it. “Would I sit in the back?” she asked.

  “No. You would sit up front. I would sit in the back.”

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek while she contemplated. Then resolve set in, having made up her mind while she mumbled to herself, “I never lose.” Shoulders back, chin forward, she marched toward the plane.

  That’s my girl.

  Without hesitating, I helped her up. Once she was seated I took the time to show her what all the controls and gadgets did. She listened with rapt attention like I might quiz her on it later.

  “Relax,” I said. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” She looked tense, and maybe a little afraid.

  “I’m okay. I’m not scared.” She swallowed and I knew she was telling herself that more than she was telling me.

  She was scared but being afraid of something doesn’t make one a coward. I admired her for pushing her fear aside, even if it was to win a bet or shut me up.

  “Charlie, you’re…you’re a good pilot, right?”

  I touched her cheek, wanting to ease her nerves. “The best,” I said softly.

  I handed her the goggles and headset and let her know that it would be loud, but I could talk to her through the rubber hose that ran from her ear and would be connected to me, but she wouldn’t be able to speak, a one-way communication device. When she got settled, and I was sure she wouldn’t bolt out of her seat, I sat down in mine directly behind her and went about securing my own headset and goggles.

  I gave the thumbs up to William, who was standing by the left wheel behind the propeller. He turned the crank and pulled out the lever to engage the engine, and spun the prop.

  The beautiful aircraft came to life.

  The engine blew out exhaust and then idled steadily. It was noisy and the yellow peril, a nickname given to the PT-17, mostly in reference to the dangerous nature of flight training, shook and rattled.

  “You doing okay?” I yelled. Sophie nodded. I couldn’t see her fa
ce so I had to use my instincts, which told me she was fine.

  Because of the low tail wheel the plane sat at a high angle, blocking our view ahead, only seeing sky through the whirring propeller. When we began moving forward I had to make “s” turns so I could see what was straight ahead. When we made it to the end of the field I let Sophie know that I would be pushing the brakes and run up the engine. The yellow peril shuddered as the engine ran up to full power and I throttled back to idle.

  “The moment of truth!” I shouted, “You ready?”

  I received one quick nod. I chuckled, wondering what she was thinking and hoping it wasn’t to throttle me. I placed my feet on the rudder pedals and held the control stick. We began moving forward, accelerating quickly. The tail came up, allowing us to see ahead. We charged across the ground, pushing sixty miles per hour and bumped along a few more seconds when the bumping stopped. I looked over the side and the ground was rushing by ten, fifteen, twenty-five feet below.

  “We’re flying!” I said.

  I was in my element, my zone. Having Sophie with me only amplified how I felt. You don’t know what it’s like to have your two greatest loves coupled together, filling your soul differently, yet completely and equally. Or perhaps you do. Either way, I knew that particular moment would be burned into my memory forever.

  The trees at the end of the airfield rushed towards us but at our rate of climb we flew over them easily.

  “Still doing okay, sweetheart?”

  Sophie nodded. I would have given anything to know what she was feeling. When I flew for the first time it was the most fantastic moment of my life. I wanted to give a moment like that to her. A moment of pure fascination and exhilaration. A moment she would remember for a lifetime.

  I wasn’t doing this for me. I was doing this for her.

  “Remember when you asked me what it was like to fly?” Another nod. “This is it, baby. This is what it’s like. Are you looking?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are your eyes closed?”

  She nodded.

  “Open your eyes, Sophie.”

  She shook her head fervently.

  If I could have held her in my lap I would have. I wanted to at that moment, but I couldn’t so I talked her through it.