Touching the Clouds

by Bonnie Leon

  Kate leaned back in her chair, bored and wishing the fog would lift. The heat and inactivity made her sleepy. Through half-closed lids, she watched a smirk appear on Jack’s lips.

  “Who taught you to play checkers, your sister?” he asked.

  Sidney remained focused. “Nope. The best player in Kenai— my grandpa.”

  “There’s tough competition down there—grannies and girlies.” Jack snickered. He picked up a black checker and jumped one of Sidney’s red ones. He snatched up the game piece and stacked it on two others he already possessed. “Got you now.”

  Sidney continued to study the red and black squares. Kate wished he’d make a play. He always took forever to make a move.

  Maybe I should go home. Nothing happening here. She looked out the window. Ice fog draped itself over the world, coating everything with a heavy shimmering frost.

  Sidney jumped two of Jack’s pieces, then set them down casually on his side of the board. A look of surprise hit Jack’s face. “You can’t do that.”

  “The heck I can’t. That’s a—” the phone rang—“perfectly good move.” The phone jangled again. “Give me a second and I’ll explain it to you.” His voice was laced with sarcasm. Sidney rolled his chair to a phone hanging on the wall and picked up.

  “Hello.” His h sounded like a y. Kate could barely make out the sound of someone’s voice on the other end of the line. Their tone was sharp. “Yep, that’s me,” Sidney’s brows creased. “How bad is he?”

  Kate sat up, dropping the front legs of her chair to the floor.

  “Doesn’t sound good. Thought they had a doc up there.” He glanced at Kate. “Yeah.” His eyes went to Jack. “Fog’s bad here. I’ll see what we can do.” He was quiet while he listened. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll get back to you.”

  He hung up the phone. “That was the hospital. We got a mercy flight. Independence Mine up in Hatcher Pass said one of their men took a fall. He’s in a bad way. Has a back injury, probably broken ribs. Said if they don’t get him to a hospital, he’ll likely die.”

  “What do they expect us to do? It’s freezing and thick as pea soup out there.” Jack pushed away from the table. “Can’t they just truss him up for a day or two?”

  “He’s having trouble breathing. And they don’t know how long he can hold out.”

  Jack glanced at the window and shook his head. “I’m not going out in this. Especially not for some rummy who probably fell ’cause he’d been at the hooch.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  Sidney turned to Kate.

  She wasn’t sure what she ought to do. The idea of flying in the fog made her stomach churn. She knew what could happen. She glanced at the window. “How bad you think it is out there?”

  “Well, let’s have a look.” Sidney pushed to his feet and walked to the door. Opening it, he stepped into the freezing mist. “You probably have a few hundred yards’ visibility . . . at most.” He shook his head. “It’s risky. But the fella said there wasn’t any fog at the mine.”

  Kate stared into the icy vapor, turning her gaze skyward. “What do you think the ceiling is?”

  “No way to tell, not until you get up there.” Sidney’s breath hung in the air. “You don’t have to go.”

  “If I don’t, that man could die.”

  Jack stepped into the doorway. “He could die just by getting in a plane with you.” He chuckled.

  Kate lifted a lip in contempt. She took in a deep breath. “I’ll go.”

  “You’re a bigger fool than I thought,” Jack said. “Why risk your neck for someone you don’t even know?”

  For once Jack made sense. Yet, she couldn’t put the suffering man out of her mind. She walked back inside the shop. “I’ve been up there before. The landing strip’s not great, but it’ll do. Shouldn’t be a problem, especially since they don’t have fog.”

  Sidney followed her. “It’s colder than the dickens, though, and the winds can get bad through there.” He closed the door, leaving Jack standing outside. “I’ll make sure they stomp down the runway and set out signal fires.”

  “Thanks.” Kate grabbed her oil pot and set it on the stove to heat. “I’ll be fine,” she said, but her mind whirled with memories of the last flight she’d made in the fog. She shook off her fear. Everything was different now. She was a better pilot with a lot more experience.

  “The hospital’s sending over a nurse to fly up with you.”

  Kate headed for the door. “I’ll get the plane ready.”

  Sidney followed her. “You’re sure? Your job description doesn’t include offering up your life for someone else’s.”

  Kate stopped and faced him. “It doesn’t? I thought it did.” She smiled and her tone teased. More seriously she asked, “Do you think I can do this?”

  Sidney’s eyes shifted away from Kate’s. “It’s a tough run even for the best pilot.”

  Kate had hoped for more enthusiasm. “Keep the lights on. I’ll be back.” She marched across the field.

  “I’ll bring out the oil as soon as it’s warm.”

  “You’re a fool,” Jack said just loud enough so Kate could hear.

  She ignored him, her mind already calculating what she needed to do to take off and find her way to Hatcher Pass.

  Kate sat in the cockpit, letting the engine warm up while Sidney inspected the outside of the plane and cleared it of ice. Lights cut through the fog and a car stopped in front of the office. A woman bundled in an oversized parka stepped out and hurried across the field.

  Kate moved to the door.

  Sidney greeted the woman. “You from the hospital?”

  “Yes.”

  The nurse didn’t look exceptional in any way. She was small with short brown hair and blue eyes. Kate figured she couldn’t be more than thirty. She climbed out of the plane and walked toward her. “Hi. I’m Kate.”

  “Doris Henson.”

  “Good to meet you.” Kate reached out to shake her hand.

  “You’re the woman pilot I’ve been hearing about.”

  “That’s me all right.” Kate smiled, hoping to infuse the reticent woman with confidence.

  Sidney was all business. “Time to go. Make sure to watch your altimeter. Don’t want you flying into any mountains.” He grinned, but the warning was serious. “And keep an eye on your inclinometer. It’ll help make sure you’re flying flat.”

  Kate nodded. She appreciated Sidney’s concern, but she’d already been giving herself the same instructions.

  “Fog’s like a grafter,” he continued. “It can con you, makes you think you’re gaining altitude when you’re losing it. And you can list heavy to one side, even get yourself upside down without knowing it.” He pulled his coat closed. “I knew a guy who thought he was climbing, when all the while he was heading straight for the ground.” Shaking his head, he continued, “Good thing he figured it out in time.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve heard that story before.” She couldn’t keep the dry tone out of her voice. Kate turned toward the plane. She knew this run was dangerous.

  Sidney grabbed her and swung her around so she faced him. “I know you know, but . . . well, just keep an eye on your instruments.”

  “I will.” Kate gave him a smile, unwilling to let him know she had her own doubts. She turned to Doris. “You sure you want to go along?”

  Doris looked at the plane, compressed her lips, and then said, “There’s a patient who needs me.” She offered a tremulous smile.

  “All right, then. We’re on our way.” Kate stood beside the door. “You can sit up front with me.”

  With a nod, Doris climbed in and headed toward the cockpit.

  Kate took her place, nerves tight.

  Doris held out Kate’s Bible. “It was on the seat.”

  “Thanks.” She took the book and stared at it. A piece of Scripture reverberated through her mind. “In your unfailing love you will lead the people you have redeemed; in your strength you will guide them.” Lord, guid
e me now. She tucked the book into her pack. “All set?”

  “I’m ready,” Doris called over the noise of the engine.

  Moving down the airstrip, Kate barreled through the fog. She had the sensation of moving through a milky tunnel. Picking up speed, she stared into the disorienting white haze. When the wheels left the ground, she felt almost dizzy. She pulled back on the stick and prayed the fog would give way to clear skies.

  It didn’t. Kate finally leveled off, the icy cloud encasing the plane. Her inclinometer told her she was off level so she tapped the rudder, watching until the ball moved back to center. Kate reminded herself of the years she’d spent in a cockpit. She knew enough to feel her way. She just needed to keep her heading.

  Kate looked for any sign of clearing skies. There was nothing but a thick mist. Inclined to let off her speed, she watched closely so as not to cut back too much and stall out. She looked at the gauges repeatedly. Any mistake could prove fatal.

  Her fingers tingled from gripping the stick. Her father’s voice came to her. How many times had he said she was the best natural pilot he’d ever known?

  He’s right. Trust your instincts.

  She checked the compass, which assured her she was on the right heading. With mountains to the north and the east, it was imperative she stay on course. She’d have to navigate the Matanuska Valley to get to Hatcher Pass. She kept waiting and praying for the fog to dissipate. It’ll probably be clear by the time I reach the valley.

  When a hole opened up, Kate got a peek at the ground. Instead of alder and birch forests there was water! Panic spiked through her. How could she have gotten so far off course? She rechecked the gauges. Everything looked fine. Tapping the compass, the needle dipped toward the south, then sprang north. The compass was off!

  Kate had no idea where she was. She could be heading out to sea or flying directly into a mountain. There was no way to know. Her heart sped up, and her breaths came short and quick. She had to find a way out of the fog.

  Her mind flashed back to that day at Rimrock Lake. She’d been confused, unable to tell which way was up or down. She’d made a bad choice then. Alison’s sweet face swirled through her memories. I killed her. Glancing at Doris, who trusted her, she refocused on getting herself and Doris down safely.

  Occasionally the fog thinned, giving her glimpses of what lay below. There was too much water for it to be anything other than Cook Inlet. She spotted a portion of coastline and then the fog closed in again. I’ve got to find a place to land.

  “Doris.” Kate tried to keep her voice calm. “The fog’s too dense. I’m going to set us down.”

  The nurse gazed out the window. “Where?”

  “I’ll wait for an opening. There’ll be a piece of beach. You’ll see.”

  Doris nodded slightly, staring into the fog.

  “We’ll be fine. I’m a good pilot,” Kate said, although she didn’t think it would make an awful lot of difference who was flying just now. She needed something more powerful than herself. A Bible verse she’d heard as a child popped into her mind. The Lord will never leave you nor forsake you. “I need you now,” she whispered.

  Gripping the stick, Kate prayed for a break in the fog. Staring into the mist, she tried to imagine a day in the future when she’d be telling the story about how she managed to get out of this jam.

  She checked her altimeter. Should she climb or stay low? Either way it was a risk. If there were hills or mountains in front of her, she’d need more altitude, but to find a place to land she’d have to remain close to the ground.

  I shouldn’t have come. Jack was right. I am a fool. Her mind went to the man at the mining camp who was counting on her to rescue him. She felt sick. He’d probably die.

  Like a shroud, the fog cloaked escape. Holding her breath, Kate pushed forward on the stick, dropping closer to the sea. She wondered what it felt like to die. A picture of her mother and father flashed through her mind. I’m so sorry.

  Stop it. You’ll find a way.

  She kept flying, searching for a hole and hoping for a miracle.

  Nita lay on the bed Paul had made for her in the house. She was edgy. Panting, she’d pace, then return to her bed and lie down only to get up again and pace some more.

  Paul knelt beside her. “How you doing, girl?” He patted her head. She looked at him, her eyes sorrowful and questioning as if she didn’t know what was happening to her.

  He rested his hand on her side and felt the muscles tighten. “It won’t be long.”

  Moving to the kitchen, he broke off a chunk of pound cake and stepped onto the porch. Jasper sat on his perch. Paul offered the bird a piece of cake, which the raven gulped down. “One of these days, you’ll fly off and never come back.” Paul felt a twinge of sadness at the idea. The bird had been interesting company.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee, then cut a slice of pound cake for himself and turned on the radio. It was almost time for the Mukluk News, his daily connection with the rest of the territory and its happenings.

  He moved to the window and stared out. Fog hovered and ice encrusted the trees and bushes. It was pretty to look at, but Paul preferred the warmer fog they’d had in San Francisco. Rather than holding the city in an icy grip, it had seemed to embrace it.

  The radio crackled to life and a man’s voice erupted from the small wooden cabinet. “Good afternoon. Welcome to the Mukluk News.”

  Nita stood and whined, searching for the source of the voice.

  Paul sat at the table.

  “Temperatures are dropping across the territory,” the man said. “Those of you up around Barrow can expect temps to drop to fifty below tonight. You’re going to need your long-johns for this one. No snow in the interior. And in South Central Alaska, expect more ice fog, and there will be heavy snowfall in the southeast.

  “There’s a message for Tom and Jenna Barkley. Your package is on its way. You can expect delivery Wednesday of next week, so be looking for it.” He chuckled. “’Course from what I hear, your kids won’t be too happy about it—think it has something to do with school.”

  Paul took a bite of cake and watched Nita for a few moments. She stood and turned around and then settled back down. The sound of crackling paper came across the airwaves. The broadcaster continued, “Congratulations are in order for Wilbur and June Harris. They had their first baby last Saturday—Robert James. Word is the little fella’s robust and thriving.”

  There was a break for music. Paul checked on Nita and offered her fresh water. When the music ended, the announcer returned. “Word just in. There was an incident at the Independence Mine today. A man was injured in a fall. No news on his condition. A pilot who set out on a mercy flight didn’t show up. Her plane is missing.”

  “Her?” Paul moved closer to the radio. The only female pilot in the area was Kate.

  “Kate Evans flies for Sidney Schaefer who has a small outfit in Anchorage. The only passenger was a nurse, Doris Henson. A search is pending until weather conditions improve.” There was a pause and then the man continued, “Our prayers go out to you tonight, Kate and Doris.”

  Paul sank into a chair, questions pounding his mind. What had happened to Kate? Was she down someplace? Was she safe? Or had she crashed? His elbows on the table, he put his face in his hands and tried to pray. It had been a long time and he felt guilty asking now—he’d ignored God for so long. “Lord . . . you know where Kate is. Help her.”

  His mind reeled back to San Francisco. He’d prayed then too, but God hadn’t answered him. Paul pushed away from the table and walked outside. Staring in the direction of the creek, he wished there was something he could do. He was powerless. He gazed into drifting fog. Why would Kate go out in weather like this? Why did she have to push so hard?

  The dogs set to barking and he turned to see a light bobbing through the fog. It was Patrick. “Did you hear?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Patrick clapped a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “They’ll f
ind her. I’m sure she’s all right.”

  Paul nodded. “You want to come in? I’ve got coffee on and there’s cake.”

  “Sure.”

  Patrick followed Paul inside. His eyes went to Nita. “She having her pups?”

  “Probably by morning.”

  Paul had planned to give one to Kate. Now . . .

  Trying to block out morbid thoughts, he moved to the kitchen counter and cut a slice of cake for Patrick and then poured him a cup of coffee. He sat across the table from his neighbor.

  Patrick took a bite and chewed. “Almost as good as Sassa’s. Don’t tell her I said that.” He cut into the cake with his fork. “Kate’s a good pilot. She most likely set down somewhere to wait out the weather.”

  “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

  Patrick took a drink of coffee. “I’ll radio Sidney if you want.”

  “The man on the news said they couldn’t search right now because of the fog. Doubt Sidney knows anything.”

  Heaviness of heart pressed down on Paul. If something happened to Kate, the world would seem a little less bright. He’d miss her. We barely know each other, he thought, realizing he wanted time to know her better.

  Paul kept the radio on while assisting with the delivery of five male and four female puppies. Unfortunately, the station signed off without additional news.

  Unable to dismiss thoughts of Kate, he couldn’t quiet his anxiety. His body vibrated with tension. He checked on Nita. The puppies were nursing while their mother gave them another bath.

  “You’re a good mom,” Paul said, resting his hand on her head.

  She pushed against his palm, then went back to cleaning her babies.

  Imagining all sorts of horrific scenarios, Paul couldn’t sleep. He tried to pray but couldn’t believe anyone was listening.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, he climbed out of bed. After stoking the fire, he made a quick check of Nita and her new family, then dropped into his chair. He picked up his Bible and stared at it for a long while. Finally he opened to Psalm 50 and read the fifteenth verse. Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me.