Wings of Promise

by Bonnie Leon

  “Cookie? They’re apple raisin.”

  Kate’s stomach tumbled. The last thing she wanted was to eat, but she didn’t dare refuse, so she took one.

  William Gibson walked into the room. He seemed smaller than Kate remembered. “Kate,” he said.

  “Mr. Gibson.” She stood. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  He moved to the sofa and Mrs. Gibson sat beside him. She didn’t rest against the cushions, but kept her spine straight and sat on the edge of the sofa. A furrow ran across her brow.

  “Now then, Kate, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Mr. Gibson’s voice was sterile and polite.

  Kate sat back down. “I ran into Charles at the market yesterday.”

  “He told us.”

  “He’s angry, and he has a right to be. I thought it might help if we talked . . . about what happened.” Kate looked at her glass and took a drink. “We never did talk.”

  She rubbed a damp palm on her skirt. “That day . . . it was all my fault. I asked Alison to go with me. And when I saw the fog, I should have stayed clear of the lake. I just thought . . .” She fought tears. It didn’t help that Mrs. Gibson’s eyes had filled and that she had a viselike grip on her husband’s hand. “I thought we would be fine. That I was a good enough pilot. But I wasn’t. I tried to set the plane down, but I got mixed up and we went in sideways.”

  Kate couldn’t stop the tears. “I tried to save her.”

  Mrs. Gibson dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

  “I really did. I wish it had been me who died instead.” Kate was crying and barely holding back sobs. “When we went out that day, I never thought anything bad would happen. Alison was my best friend. I loved her.” The energy seeped out of her voice. “I miss her . . . every day.”

  Mrs. Gibson looked at her husband, then back at Kate. “We know you do. And we understand that what happened was an accident, a terrible accident.”

  Mr. Gibson stood and walked to the window. His hands in his pockets, he stared out. “When we first heard, we couldn’t fathom that our Alison was gone.” His voice wobbled. “We needed to blame someone.” He looked at Kate. “And so we lashed out at you.”

  “We’re sorry,” Mrs. Gibson said. “It was unfair. You were barely more than a child. We should have talked to you. We just didn’t know what to say. And as time passed it became more difficult, so . . . we just let it go.”

  She turned to Kate. “We can see now how wrong that was.”

  The weight Kate had carried for so long suddenly felt lighter. “Can you forgive me?”

  Mrs. Gibson reached out and took Kate’s hands in hers. “We forgave you a long time ago, Katie. We’re just so sorry we didn’t say anything. It was difficult to even speak about Alison. And when we see you, we see her.” She patted Kate’s hand.

  Kate had never expected this much grace and love. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I’m so grateful. I’ve been afraid to talk to you.” She remembered her encounter with Charles. “What about Charles? He hates me.”

  Mrs. Gibson nodded. “He’s had a harder time of it. He’s young. I’m sure he’ll come around, eventually.”

  Mr. Gibson sat beside his wife. “We heard about your pilot friend . . . we’re sorry.”

  Kate felt a tightening in her throat. “We were supposed to get married.”

  “Oh, Katie,” Mrs. Gibson said.

  “Will you be heading back up north?” Mr. Gibson asked.

  “No. I’m here to stay. I’m not flying anymore. It’s not for me.”

  “You know, Alison loved to fly.” Mrs. Gibson smiled. “She thought you were a wonderful pilot. She was so proud of you.”

  “Alison was the best friend a person could have.”

  Mrs. Gibson leveled a kind look on Kate. “She’d never want you to give up flying. She always said she thought you were part bird.” Her eyes brightened and she looked younger. “Don’t give up something you love out of guilt or fear.”

  “It’s not that. I just don’t think it’s wise. And it’s about time I settled down to a normal life, maybe have a family.”

  “Kate, you were never like anyone else. That’s one of the things Alison loved about you. I don’t think you were meant to live a normal life. That’s not how God made you.”

  Tears choked Kate. She knew that walking away from flying meant she was leaving behind part of herself. But maybe it was time to find a new Kate.

  — 25 —

  Kate’s mind whirled with all that had happened. She felt lighter, happier. The Gibsons didn’t hate her. And Charles . . . well, she could only hope and pray that one day he’d find a way to forgive her. All things were possible with God. She knew that—why did she have to learn the lesson again and again?

  Just the idea of a God who could do anything carried her thoughts back to what Mrs. Gibson had said about her and flying. Was she supposed to be that woman who had challenged the Alaskan wilderness? The one who had flown that vast territory? Is that who she was meant to be? Did that person even exist anymore?

  Fear and disappointment rolled through her. If she couldn’t be who she’d been, who would she be? She was too afraid to fly. Just the thought sent fear shivering through her. She tried to visualize herself in her plane, soaring over the bush and the frozen tundra. No. She couldn’t do it. And what sense did it make, anyway? Who, in their right mind, lived like that?

  Mike’s quiet blue eyes, his laid-back demeanor, and his love of flying caught hold of Kate. She missed him. If only she could talk to him. He’d know what she should do. She remembered their first trip together and the lunch they’d shared on the beach in Homer. He’d told her then to go home, that flying in Alaska was too dangerous. Yet, he had stayed, and she knew he respected her for staying.

  She visualized his easy smile, and how his eyes were always full of affection when he looked at her. An ache tightened in her throat. Why had he died? He was a good man, full of life and fun. He didn’t deserve death. Anger flashed through Kate. Why, God? You could have prevented it.

  Kate knew better than to question God about things that only he understood. It accomplished nothing. There were no answers for tragedies like Mike’s.

  He should have listened to his own advice and stopped flying. Kate tried to imagine him doing something else, but couldn’t. He was meant to fly. But isn’t that what she’d believed about herself?

  She pulled into the driveway and chickens scattered. Her parents were sitting on the front porch. She knew they’d been praying and they’d want to know what had happened, but Kate wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. She’d carried the burden for so long, none of this seemed real. She needed time to contemplate and relish the change.

  She slid out of the car and closed the door, then walked up the path that led to the porch. Taking the steps, she wished there were a way to avoid a conversation about all that had happened.

  “Hi,” she said.

  Her father smiled at her. “How’d it go?”

  Her mother stood. “Can I get you some iced tea?”

  “No thanks.” Kate sat in a wooden rocker. She clasped her hands in her lap, closed her eyes, and leaned her head against the back of the chair. A breeze cooled the afternoon heat and carried the scent of fermenting apples.

  Her mother settled in her chair. “Don’t give up, honey, I’m sure the Gibsons—”

  “Actually everything is fine. The Gibsons were kind and accepted my apology with grace. They said they forgave me a long time ago and were sorry they hadn’t contacted me.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  “We had a good conversation.” Kate smiled softly. “We talked a little about Alison and the way things used to be.” She licked dry lips and wished she’d accepted the offer of tea.

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” Her mother rested a hand briefly on Kate’s arm. “I just thought by the look of you . . . well . . . you look unhappy. Is something else bothering you?”

  Kate blew out a breath. “I�
��m confused. I don’t know what to do.”

  “About what, Katie?” Her father leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. “How can we help?”

  Kate didn’t even know how to express what she felt. She brushed hair out of her eyes and looked at her parents. They were wise and they loved her. Maybe they could help.

  “When I went to Alaska, I was absolutely certain I was doing the right thing. I wanted the challenge, and I needed a new beginning. And then everything went bad.”

  “Everything?” Her dad lifted an eyebrow. “Seems to me a lot of things went right.”

  Kate stared at him, hoping he’d help her see what she was incapable of seeing.

  “You remember the day you got the job at the airstrip? You called us, even though it was a long-distance call. You were so excited you couldn’t stop talking.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You’d accomplished one of your dreams. And in the weeks and months that followed, you proved yourself to be a gifted pilot. You saved lives and served the people of Alaska. You faced challenges most people wouldn’t even dream of attempting. And you made good, solid friends, people you could count on.”

  “But what about all the terrible things that happened, like Frank dying in a crack-up and then Mike—”

  “Those were bad, I’ll grant you. But life holds good and bad for all of us.” He straightened and said quietly, “I suppose you can surrender—stay here holed up on the apple farm. Give up on your dreams.”

  “You don’t think I should be here?”

  He looked straight at her. “No, Kate. I don’t.” He glanced at Joan. “It’s not that we don’t want you here. We love having you home. But you don’t belong here any longer. Alaska’s your home now.”

  Kate shook her head. “No. I don’t even fly anymore. I can’t go back.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’d be too embarrassed if I’m not flying. And everyone who flies eventually dies. I . . . I’m afraid. I can’t live like that, thinking that any day I might be the one. And I don’t want to kill anyone else.”

  Bill’s lips lifted in an understanding smile. “You don’t have to fly, but I think you’ll be missing out on what God intended for you if you don’t.” He grinned. “I’ve been flying a good number of years and I’m still alive.” His expression turned more serious. “And Katie, you didn’t kill anyone.”

  “How can you say that? If not for me, Alison would be alive. And her parents would be happy. They’ve forgiven me, but they’re so sad.” She pushed out of her chair and moved to the railing.

  “Katie,” Joan said, using Bill’s pet name for her daughter. “I know you understand that God’s forgiven your part in Alison’s death, but I don’t think you’ve forgiven yourself.”

  Trying to control her trembling chin, she said, “But it was my fault.” She gazed out over the orchard, feeling trapped by guilt and confusion. She needed a way out.

  “You’re taking an awful lot of credit for another person’s life.”

  Kate looked at her mother. “What do you mean?”

  “God has the power over life and death, not us. You did everything you could that day to save Alison.” Her gaze was steady. “Either we trust God or we don’t.” Joan moved to her daughter and placed an arm around her shoulders.

  Kate leaned her head against her mother, wishing she were still a child and all it took to cure a wound was a hug and a kiss. She was all grown up now, but her mother’s presence still calmed her. Kate felt the torment seep away.

  “You didn’t kill Alison up there on that lake. We don’t know why God allowed Alison to die, but he did.” She gave Kate a gentle squeeze. “You’re not God, Kate. He made the choice.”

  Kate felt as if light had eased into her soul and had illuminated the truth. “I love you.” She hugged her mother, tears squeezing from her eyes.

  “I love you too.”

  Kate stepped back. “I think I’ll take a walk before everyone gets here. You know, clear my head a little.” She looked at Angel, who lay beside her father’s chair. “You want to go, girl?”

  Angel lifted her head, but didn’t move.

  Kate crossed to the dog. “Guess it’s too hot, huh?” She smoothed Angel’s heavy coat. “I understand,” she said, straightening and walking toward the steps. “I won’t be long.”

  “You have plenty of time,” her mother said.

  Kate headed for the orchard. Most of the apples had been picked. Boxes stood stacked at the ends of the rows. Some would be stored, others shipped. The ones they’d use to make cider were already boxed up and sitting near the cider press.

  Maybe a party was just what she needed. Richard would be there. She wondered what he’d say about whether or not she should go back to Alaska.

  The following morning Kate came down the stairs early before anyone else was up. Her parents had gone to bed late the previous evening, after everyone had gone home. It seemed like most of the farmers in the valley had been here. Kate had a fine time. There’d been good conversation, laughter, and tasty food. Some of the local fellows brought their fiddles and harmonicas, so people danced.

  Kate found her niche, making cider. She and Richard worked together to help bottle the juice. She drank so much she’d felt it sloshing around in her stomach and she’d gone to bed with a stomachache.

  She headed for the kitchen to make coffee. Her parents would want some when they got up. She rinsed out the percolator and filled it with fresh water, then scooped coffee into the bin, put the lid on, and set it on her mother’s new electric range.

  She heard footsteps and turned to see her father. “Hi, Dad. Good party, huh.”

  He smiled, the creases at the corners of his eyes deepening. “One of the best.” He walked into the kitchen and glanced out the window. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

  “Yeah. I hope it’s not hot. All that cider needs to be canned.”

  Bill leaned against the kitchen counter. “You wouldn’t want to go up for a morning flight with me before your mother wakes up, would you?”

  Kate’s heart thumped. “I don’t think so. I’d better stay around so I can help Mom.”

  “She didn’t get to bed until one o’clock. She won’t be up and ready to work for another hour or so. Come on. It’d be good for you.” He pulled a cap out of his back pocket and tugged it onto his head.

  Kate met her father’s challenging gaze. “Dad . . . I’m afraid. I . . . don’t think I can fly anymore.”

  “Sure you can. You know me. I take good care of my plane, and I’m a first-rate pilot.” He glanced out the window. “We couldn’t have better weather.” He was silent for a moment, then added, “If you don’t go up, you’ll never be happy with yourself.”

  Kate knew he was right but wished he weren’t. She glanced out the window, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay. I’ll go.”

  “That’s my girl.” He slipped an arm around Kate’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

  At the airstrip, Kate stared at her father’s yellow Stinson. Her heart beat faster with each step she took toward the plane. Her palms were damp and she kept wiping them on her slacks. When they reached the plane, she stared at it, trying to convince herself she could fly again. She wanted to run the other way, but her pride wouldn’t let her. Besides, she’d known this day would come. She had to face this.

  “Climb on in,” Bill said.

  Kate pulled on her flight helmet and clambered in, dropping into a small seat up front. She felt cramped and her stomach gallumped so badly she wondered if all the juice she drank the night before might come up.

  “You all right?” her father asked.

  Kate nodded, then said, “No. Not really.”

  “You’ll see. Once we get up there you’ll feel differently.”

  “Just get us off the ground.” She tried to sound lighthearted.

  Bill taxied to the end of the runway, bumping over uneven ground. “All set?”

  Kate gave a nod.

  They
headed down the runway, picking up speed. Kate gripped the edge of her seat. A picture of her as a child on her first flight flitted through her mind. She’d been terrified then, just like now.

  She was ready to shout at her father to stop when she felt the plane lift and leave the ground. For a moment her stomach remained earthbound, and as they soared over the trees she felt almost faint.

  “How’s it feel?” her father asked, glancing at her.

  She looked down, and joy bubbled up inside. She was airborne! The world below looked like a giant patchwork quilt. She did love flying. They lifted skyward and headed toward nearby hills.

  “It’s beautiful,” Kate hollered over the roar of the engine. “I love it.” She smiled and leaned over to squeeze her father’s arm. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He grinned. “I knew if I could just get you up here, you’d be fine.” He flew over rows of apple trees. “Where you want to go?”

  Kate knew where she needed to go, but could she face it? “Rimrock Lake?”

  Her father’s eyes widened. “You sure?”

  “No. But I need to go.”

  “Okay. Rimrock Lake it is.”

  “Is there a place to set down near the lake?”

  “I think there’s an open field on the south side.” He banked the plane and turned toward the mountains.

  Kate gazed out at the scenery and wondered how she could have imagined giving up flying. She knew that if Mike could see her, he’d be smiling.

  As they approached the lake, the accident looped through Kate’s mind. This time, instead of pushing it aside, she allowed the memories their freedom. She needed to remember.

  It had been a day like this one, only colder. She and Alison had been laughing and talking about Alison’s new boyfriend. Life was full of adventure and promise.

  Kate looked down at the brilliant blue water. In autumn the lake was partially drained, so there were areas of lake-bottom visible. Since the accident, the lake had seemed dark and cold. But today, it felt like Kate was seeing it anew—the waters were blue, with sunlight reflecting off the surface. A pine forest grew right up to the edge, creating a dark green frame for the pristine waters.