Touching the Clouds

by Bonnie Leon

  She made her way up the gorge and the pitching increased. Her plane bounced as if it were a kite being tossed in a brisk wind. The walls of the mountains closed in. She waited for Sidney’s instructions, knowing that if she didn’t head back soon, there wouldn’t be enough room to make the turn.

  “All right, I want you to go back the way we came and then cruise over Cook Inlet.”

  Kate obeyed, happily. Sidney certainly couldn’t doubt her abilities now. However, as she approached the inlet, she tightened her grip on the stick. Clouds had moved in, creating a low ceiling. She couldn’t fly above the gray stacks—she’d have to maneuver beneath them.

  Approaching the layer of black and gray, she calculated the distance between sea and sky. She was fine; there was plenty of space . . . or just enough. She ducked beneath the cloud bank, so low she could see birds fishing in the choppy waters below.

  “Good, now follow the coast along the peninsula.”

  Kate relaxed a little and held a course that followed the shore. Some beaches were sandy, others rocky. All were littered with driftwood and other debris, some were barely visible beneath a confusion of logs and sea life.

  “Have you ever made a beach landing?”

  “Once, on my way up the coast from Washington. It was a little dicey, but I got down all right.”

  “You see that piece of sand down there?” He pointed at a stretch of shoreline.

  “The one with the rock outcropping?”

  “Yep, that’s the one. Can you put us down on it?”

  “I think so. I’ll have to check it out.”

  Kate pushed the stick forward and decreased altitude. The beach looked unstable. There were rivulets of water running into the bay—which most likely meant mud or soft sand. She circled the proposed landing site, flying low enough to note obstacles. “It should be all right, maybe a little soft.”

  She looked at Sidney. “Are you familiar with this beach?”

  “Yeah. It’s not too bad, but you’re right, the sand can get mushy. When you come in, keep the nose up a little, otherwise you’re liable to plant it in the dirt.”

  Feeling both delight and apprehension, Kate made one more flyover, then set up for her run. She figured it would be best to descend on the end of the beach with the rocks. That way she could take off toward them and into the wind.

  Keeping a gentle touch on the stick, she gradually descended. The earth rushed past her below the plane; she continued to decelerate and then felt the wheels touch down. Wet sand pulled at them. She remembered what Sidney had said and made sure to keep the nose up, then eased back on the throttle and rolled to a smooth stop.

  “Not bad,” Sidney said.

  Feeling gratified at his compliment, Kate sat back and dropped her shoulders, easing the tension in her muscles.

  “Now, do you have a plan for getting us home?” He grinned.

  Kate knew better than to take off without making an inspection of the beach, but didn’t want Sidney to think she was insecure or inexperienced. She decided caution was the best choice and said as boldly as she could manage, “I want to walk the beach first, to plan the best strategy for takeoff.” She watched for irritation or disappointment on his face. There was none.

  “Good idea.”

  Feeling almost lighthearted, Kate climbed out of the plane and headed up the beach. Sidney left the cockpit but stayed with the aircraft, leaning against it while he smoked a cigarette. Kate was thankful for time alone to relax and to gather her thoughts.

  An onshore breeze carried the sharp odor of the sea and the calls of seabirds. Gulls hopped across wet sands, then complained at Kate’s intrusion as they opened their wings and lifted into the air.

  The direction of the wind would make for an easier takeoff, but the sand was soggy. Walking back and forth across the shore, she looked for the firmest areas. When she found a strip that felt solid, she walked its length, grabbing clumps of kelp, tossing them into the surf and rolling pieces of driftwood clear. Some she used to mark the runway.

  She studied what lay beyond the rock outcropping. The trees were bent and not too tall. She looked the other direction. It was the same. If she made a mistake, there’d be no place to put down.

  Kate walked back to the plane, pacing off the distance. Finally, she did a quick check of the area where she’d have to turn around and decided there shouldn’t be any problem with the wheels getting bogged down.

  “You ready?” Sidney asked, flicking away the last of his cigarette.

  “All set.” Feeling surprisingly calm, she climbed into the Bellanca and settled into her seat.

  Sidney cranked the plane and the engine lit right off. He hurried around and climbed in beside her. “Let’s get this bird in the air.”

  Turning the craft around so she was facing the makeshift runway, Kate held her breath, hoping she hadn’t made any miscalculations. She studied the line of takeoff, double checked the wind and reference points, and then eased in the throttle, moving the plane forward. Not too fast. You don’t want to end up with the prop stuck.

  She picked up speed. The rock outcroppings rushed at them. She’d have to lift off soon. One wheel left the ground and her speed increased, then the other wheel followed . . . and she was airborne. The rocks and the trees were close. She gently pulled back on the stick and cleared the obstacles, then soared over the surf, leaving the dark waves behind.

  “You know the way home?” Sidney asked.

  “I do.” Kate felt jubilant. He’d have to hire her.

  When Sidney said nothing while she followed the coastline toward Anchorage, though, her confidence waned. She put down without difficulty and rolled toward the end of the runway. Afraid to even look at Sidney, she turned off the engine.

  He removed his flight cap and held out his hand. “You got a job with me, if you want it.” He smiled broadly.

  “I do.” Kate shook his hand, barely managing to hold back a whoop of joy.

  “It’s only part-time. I need a pilot for a mail run. Think you can do that?”

  “Absolutely.” It wasn’t everything she wanted, but it was a beginning.

  “Mike Conlin’s been filling in on that run. He’ll take you out. Be here Monday morning, eight o’clock sharp.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Sidney studied her. “Prove yourself and I’ll let you fly passengers.” “I will.”

  He climbed out of the plane and, before closing the door, said, “Don’t disappoint me.”

  6

  Kate’s mind sprinted through questions, the same ones that had kept her awake most of the night. What would she come across today? How long a route did she have? Where was it located? What kind of weather would she face? What would Mike be like?

  She slapped together a bologna sandwich, wrapped it in waxed paper, and shoved it into a bag, then added an apple and put her lunch in her pack. At least I won’t be on my own. She felt only slightly reassured by the thought, because after today she would be on her own.

  Standing in front of her bureau mirror, she studied her reflection. Her face was flushed and her hazel eyes seemed brighter than usual. She’d always wanted blue eyes. Pulling a brush through her hair, she could still hear her mother’s reassuring tone. “God knew exactly what he was doing when he created you. You’re perfect.”

  Kate felt a pang of homesickness and wished she had time to reread her mother’s most recent letter. She’d talked about her father’s last fishing trip and the upcoming apple harvest. Kate loved this season. It was a busy time on the farm. Often friends stopped by to help with apple picking and cider making. It always felt celebratory.

  She leaned closer to the mirror and applied lipstick. Last year, she and Richard had stayed late to clean up and then drank so much cider they’d almost made themselves sick. In the letter, her mother mentioned that he’d stopped in for a visit. He was praying she’d return. I’m not going back, she told herself, but an ache twisted in her gut.

  Forcing her mind bac
k to the present, Kate put on a spritz of Evening in Paris, then tucked in her shirt for the umpteenth time. Standing with her spine straight, she told her image, “Guess I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

  She pulled on her leather flight jacket, draped her pack over one shoulder, and headed for the door. When she stepped into the store, she nearly collided with Helen Towns.

  The older woman clutched her hands to her chest. “Oh! You gave me a start.”

  “I’m sorry.” Kate grasped Helen’s upper arms to steady her. “I’m a little keyed up and hurrying.”

  “That’s understandable.” Helen smiled. “The first day on a job is always the toughest.” She gave Kate a quick hug. “You’ll do fine.”

  “I hope so.” Kate glanced toward the door. “I better go. I don’t want to be late.”

  “Just one moment. I have something for you.” Helen hurried to the storeroom and took a small container down from a shelf. “I baked these for you last night.” She held out a canister.

  Kate peeked inside. The sweet fragrance of cinnamon drifted from the tin. “Cookies. Thank you.”

  “Oatmeal raisin. It’s my mother’s recipe.”

  “They smell delicious.” Kate pushed the lid closed. “I love oatmeal cookies.”

  Helen pressed her palms together. “Well, you better get moving.”

  Kate hurried through the store. Albert stood at the front door, a duster in hand.

  “Your big day. After this, you’ll be a full-fledged pilot.”

  “I’m only working part-time.”

  “That’s enough.” He smiled. “You’ll still be able to work for us on your days off.” He opened the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  Kate took long strides, swinging her arms freely at her sides. She could barely contain her excitement. The airfield was closer than Merrill Field, which on most days would be a good thing, but this morning she’d have liked more time to work out her nervousness.

  It was a perfect morning, cool and clear. The air smelled clean, and fresh snow glistened on the mountains, foretelling of approaching winter. The sourdoughs who came into the store predicted it would arrive early. She wondered what an Alaskan winter would be like. All she knew were the stories she’d heard. It sounded exciting, but she wondered how bad the weather had to be to ground flights. And what if a storm came up and caught her off guard? Stop worrying. You’ve flown in snow before. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.

  As a child, she’d read books that talked of ice houses and Eskimos. She smiled at her childish naïveté. Of course none of it was true anymore. Anchorage was like other towns, except that a lot of the men who came in from the bush reminded her of grizzly bears. Most sported beards, chewed tobacco, and held with coarse language that they cleaned up only mildly in the presence of women. Most smelled like they could use a bath.

  The man from Bear Creek, Paul—he didn’t seem like the rest. He was more refined and he’d smelled of soap, not sweat. She wondered how he’d come to live in Alaska. Next time I see him, I’ll ask. Even as she considered their next meeting, she knew better than to ask about his background. It wasn’t done. Early on, she’d learned not to ask questions. Some Alaskans had left the states to lose themselves and didn’t want their pasts dug up.

  Since arriving in the territory, she’d met a number of remarkable people. Kate figured the ones who moved to Alaska were likely adventure seekers, which made them different right from the start. And the ones who stayed had to be the hardiest of all. She was determined to be one of those.

  The airfield came into sight and her stomach did a little flip. She stopped and pushed down her nerves. I can do this.

  When Kate stepped into the shop, Sidney stood beside a bench laden with tools and airplane parts. He straightened and glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” He smiled, which made his boyish face look even younger.

  “Better than being late.”

  “Got that right.” He wiped his hands on a rag. “Work never ends. You know anything about plane engines?”

  “Just enough to get me back in the air when I’m stuck on the ground, at least most of the time.”

  The door opened and a thickset man with short black hair stepped into the room. He flung the door shut with a bang. Full lips clamped themselves around a cigar. In spite of the stogie, the man managed to scowl.

  I hope he’s not Mike.

  “Hey, Jack, I’d like you to meet our new pilot, Kate Evans. She’s going to take the inlet run.”

  “Heard you’d hired a dame.” The cigar bounced as he talked.

  Wearing a frown, Sidney said, “Kate, this is Jack Rydell, one of my pilots.”

  “Your best pilot.” Jack pressed his backside against the workbench, crossed his legs at the ankles, and folded his arms over his chest. “Been flying Alaska for eight years, and I’m the best aviator you’ll find in the territory.”

  Sidney shook his head. “And the most modest.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Kate said, extending a hand, thankful the ill-mannered man wasn’t Mike.

  Jack grasped it halfheartedly, then turned to Sidney. “Thought I had a trip this morning.”

  “You do.”

  “Where’re my riders?”

  “Simmer down. They called in and they’re running late. They’ll get here.”

  “I don’t have time to laze around while a bunch of trigger-happy hunters try to get their . . .” He looked at Kate, then continued, “Get their stuff together. It’s just a scouting trip.” He moved toward the door. “Guess I’ll give my plane a once-over while I wait.” He walked out of the building, slamming the door behind him.

  Sidney shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I keep him around.”

  “Why do you?” Kate asked without thinking, then wondered if she was being too forward. After all, this was her first day.

  He looked at Kate with resignation. “He’s a good pilot.”

  The door opened again and Kate prepared for another onslaught from Jack. Instead, it was a young man who looked as if he’d never seen a stressful day in his life. He stepped into the doorway. Fingers tucked into his pants pockets, he leaned his slender frame against the doorjamb. A quiet smile rested on his lips as his pale blue eyes sized up Kate. “So, you’re my student?” He lifted off his cap, revealing unruly brown hair.

  Kate felt her skin prickle. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but he wasn’t it—he was much too good looking. Propelling herself forward, she held out a hand. “I’m Kate Evans.”

  “Mike Conlin.” He snapped a piece of gum he was chewing and winked, but his grip was firm. “Nice to meet you.” He turned his attention to Sidney. “So, how much mail we got today?”

  “Plenty. Be glad for good weather.”

  “Better get to it, then.” Mike stuffed his cap in his back pocket.

  “Already packed it for you,” Sidney said.

  “Thanks.” Mike looked at Kate. “So, you ready?”

  “I am.” Kate tried to sound confident, but felt anything but. So much was riding on her doing a good job. If she botched this, there’d be no other chances.

  Hauling two canvas bags, Mike led the way to the airfield. Kate followed, a box tucked under one arm and a heavy sack draped over her shoulder. She wondered just how big a route she’d be covering. There was a lot of mail.

  “So, yours is the Bellanca?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Mike headed for it and Kate followed, her stomach doing a dance.

  Mike stopped beside the craft and set the bags on the ground. He stood back and studied the name on the side. “Fearless Kate?”

  Embarrassed, Kate silently vowed that at the first opportunity she’d paint over the name. “That’s what I call her.” She added her mail to the pile beside the Pacemaker.

  “Good name.”

  “I’m going to change it, just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “Why? Aren’t you fearless? Isn’t that why you’re here?” He winked and th
en opened the rear door.

  Kate hated being made fun of. “I was young when I first got the plane.”

  Mike didn’t respond, but hefted in the mail and arranged it carefully. “When you’ve got a lot of weight, make sure you distribute it evenly so your tail end isn’t too heavy. Otherwise you’ll have a heck of a time coming out of a stall.”

  Kate knew that, but didn’t say anything.

  “I’ll crank her.”

  Mike moved to the side of the plane while Kate climbed into the pilot’s seat.

  Once in the air, Mike took out a map and pointed to the area they’d be flying through. “We’ll head down the peninsula and then cut across the inlet and back to Anchorage. We’ve got mail drops all the way—small towns, villages, homesteads.” Kate tried to relax, but her muscles felt like they were bunched up. She took a couple of slow, deep breaths.

  Mike settled back in his seat. “I’ll be glad to get this route off my hands.”

  “Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

  “No. It’s just that I make more money working for myself. I split the take with Sidney.”

  “Why do you split with him?”

  “He maintains the airport and helps bring in business. He’s got to make a living too.”

  “Sure. Of course.” Kate hoped it wasn’t too long before she could make trips of her own. She wondered how much this mail run paid. She’d been so excited to have the job she hadn’t even thought to ask.

  They flew along the Kenai Peninsula, making several stops, many of them on beaches. Some were soft and sandy, others rocky. There were a few grass airstrips, which Kate was more familiar with, but each stop required careful piloting. Mike was helpful but gave instruction only when needed. Kate appreciated that.

  As the morning progressed, she felt more competent but also understood that flying in Alaska meant nothing was ordinary. She was getting a glimpse at how naïve she’d been when she thought she could easily step into piloting in the territory. A mail run had sounded simple. It wasn’t. She was grateful Sidney hadn’t cut her loose. Delivering mail would be a good jumping-off place, providing much-needed experience.