Aces

by T. E. Cruise

  “That’s it,” Erica said as she guided the roadster into a narrow alleyway behind some riverfront warehouses.

  QUINN’S GARAGE, THEODORE X. QUINN, PROPRIETOR read the sign stretching the length of the low, flat-roofed, cinder block building. Parked next to the garage was a rusty, olive green, U.S. Army surplus tow truck, with “Quinn’s” lettered on the side of the cab. A Bluebird brand gasoline pump and stacks of automobile tires bracketed the garage’s double barn doors.

  Gold saw a man dressed in dark-blue mechanic’s overalls up on a ladder, repainting the “Emergency Road Service” sign above the garage’s single window.

  “That’s Teddy,” Erica said as she cut the roadster’s engine.

  “Afternoon, Miss Schuler.” Teddy Quinn nodded from his ladder. “Trouble with the car?”

  Gold thought Quinn looked about thirty. He was thin, had black, wavy hair and round tortoiseshell spectacles.

  “No, the roadster’s fine,” Erica said as Quinn climbed down the ladder. “But my friend here could use your help. Herman Gold, Teddy Quinn.”

  Teddy squinted at Gold as they shook hands. “You’re one of those barnstormers, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, and I’m afraid I just racked up one of the troupe’s airplanes. I thought maybe you could help me get it repaired.”

  “Airplane, huh?” Teddy grinned. “Sounds like a nice change from working on tractors. About the only fun I get around here comes when Miss Schuler brings me her Pierce-Arrow to work on. Come on in out of the sun, and we’ll talk about your airplane.” He invited Gold and went inside the garage.

  “I’ve got to get home,” Erica told Gold. “Or else Mama will have a fit.”

  “It looks like I’ll be here for a couple of weeks…” Gold began.

  “Ummm,” Erica nervously ran her long, graceful fingers around the steering wheel’s varnished curve.

  “Do you think it’d be all right if I came to see you?” Gold asked.

  Erica smiled shyly. “Sure.”

  “Like maybe tomorrow, after supper?”

  Erica nodded quickly. She leaned across the narrow interior of the car to give him a quick kiss. “Now go! I’ve got to get home.”

  Gold got out of the car, thinking that she was worth crashing an airplane anytime. He watched her drive away, thinking that he liked everything about her, even the fact that she didn’t look back and wave.

  Inside the garage it was dim and cool. There were tool benches and parts bins; a partly disassembled tractor and a black Ford Model T up on jacks. Old license plates, automotive posters, and parts supply calendars lined the walls.

  Gold was impressed by the garage’s professional layout. He noticed that all of Teddy’s tools and equipment looked well cared for and neatly put away. Teddy clearly took pride in his work, and that was important.

  Gold thought briefly of the motor garage that he and Heiner Froehlig had talked about opening back in Germany; that day seemed like a hundred years ago.

  Teddy was seated behind a dented steel desk at the rear of the garage. Behind him was a tall filing cabinet, a small stove, and an electric icebox.

  “Pull up a seat.” Teddy indicated a wooden crate.

  Gold set the crate beside the desk and straddled it. Teddy pushed back his chair, reached behind him to the icebox, and extracted a couple of orange soda pops. He angled the bottles against the edge of the desk, banged the caps off with his palm, and handed a soda pop to Gold.

  “Now, what can I do for you, Herman?” Teddy asked.

  Gold filled him in on the damage suffered by the Jenny. “You ever do work on anything like this before?” Gold asked.

  “During the war. I went over in the Army motor pool. Now and again we’d overhaul a Spad. As I recall, those airplanes had Hispano Suiza V-8s…”

  “Excellent!” Gold exclaimed. “This Jenny has a Hisso.” He explained the overheating problems he’d encountered and showed Teddy the rough sketch he’d made of his idea for a radiator design. “I figure, as long as she needs a new radiator, why not try to improve on the original?”

  “For a Hisso, huh?” Teddy nodded thoughtfully as he studied the drawing. He took off his spectacles, breathed on the lenses, and polished them on a rag. His green eyes looked weakly out from behind the glass. “I like it,” he finally decided. “Yeah, I do… Did you think this up all by yourself?” Gold nodded. “I’m impressed,” Teddy said. “You know machines.”

  Gold arranged for Teddy to haul the Jenny back to the garage. Quinn would introduce him to the best craftsmen in town to mill a new wooden prop, wing spars, and landing gear assembly and to build the extra-capacity cooling system. Meanwhile, Gold would use the garage’s facilities—with Quinn lending a hand when he was available—to diagnose and repair the damage the Hisso had suffered in the crash.

  “Where you staying?” Quinn asked.

  “The Red Bull Manor,” Gold said. “Say, there’s one last thing you might be able to help me with. I’m going to need transportation. You have any cars you might want to rent out?”

  “No cars.” Teddy shook his head. “I do have something you might be able to use. Come around out back.”

  Gold followed him around to the garage’s small backyard, littered with rusted sections of automobiles and trucks. Off in one corner was a small lean-to, beneath which was something covered over with a dusty canvas tarp. Teddy removed the canvas to reveal a dove-gray, red- and black-trimmed Harley Davidson motorcycle.

  “Ever drive one of these?” Teddy asked.

  “Not really.” Gold shrugged. “I can figure her out, though.”

  Teddy nodded. “Don’t see why not. You can’t do her any harm. She’s about six years old, and has already taken a beating. The fellow that owned her gave her up after he’d put himself in a ditch a few times.” He pointed to the Harley’s black, copper-clad engine. “You can get her up to about forty-five miles per hour, no problem. After that, the engine will still have plenty left, but you’ll find the frame wobbles.”

  “She’ll do fine,” Gold said. The cycle would get him from town to the Schuler farm in ten minutes. “Can I rent her?”

  Quinn made a face. “Hell, use her. You’ll be doing me a favor. I’m so busy I ain’t got time to take her out the way I should.”

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  (One)

  Schuler Farm

  4 August 1921

  It was after supper. Erica Schuler had just finished cleaning up the kitchen for her mother and had come outside to the front porch to catch a bit of breeze while she waited for Herman. The summer sun, molten and all-pervading throughout the day, had begun to set, turning the big sky into a purple and orange dome over the world. Erica was sweltering, though. She had her hair pinned up, and damp tendrils stuck to the nape of her neck. As she settled back on the glider she looked around to make sure that her father and mother were nowhere about, and then kicked off her slippers and folded up the hem of her rose-colored, light cotton sundress, to expose her knees to the gentle breeze.

  She heard Herman’s motorcycle long before she saw it. The dog, panting as it lay on its side on the porch, began to thump its tail against the floorboards. Finally, Erica saw the motorcycle’s single headlight, bouncing like a firefly, as Herman made his way along the rutted dirt turnoff that led from the main road to the Schuler farmhouse.

  She remembered her dress just as Herman pulled up, and flushed hot with embarrassment as she quickly flipped down her hem to cover her knees. She didn’t think he saw. He’d been occupied switching off the cycle’s engine, putting it up on its kickstand. Now he was removing his flying goggles, letting them dangle around his neck.

  The dog got to its feet, yawning and stretching, and lumbered down the front steps to lick Herman’s hand. Herman gave the dog a cursory pat, just to be amenable, Erica thought. She could tell from his time spent at the farm this past month that Herman wasn’t very fond of animals.

  “Mama made a chicken pot pie for supper,” E
rica said. “I’ve kept some warm for you in the oven.”

  “Thanks.” He shrugged listlessly. “I’m not very hungry.”

  Erica pressed her lips together. “You feeling poorly on account of your work?”

  Herman nodded. “Sort off.”

  Herman and Teddy had been working hard on some newfangled gadget for the Jenny. When the work went wrong Herman invariably became remote and introverted. Erica put up with it. That’s how men were, she guessed, and so God gave women the ability to flirt and tease them out of their silly funks.

  “Come sit beside me and tell me about it,” Erica comforted.

  He came up on the porch and settled beside her on the glider, reaching tentatively, almost furtively, for her fingers, as if after all this time he expected her to slap his hand away. He’d gotten more shy as their relationship progressed. She wished that he understood people half as well as he knew his airplanes.

  “Now tell me just what that nasty machine has been doing to you two boys,” she began to joke.

  “It’s done,” Herman interrupted, turning toward her with a look of anguish. “The work’s done. I’ve dragged it out this past month, but I can’t stall the captain any longer.”

  She nodded, beginning to cry. She was quiet and stoic about it; she wasn’t going to act like a silly sob-sister, goddammit, but she couldn’t help the tears filling her eyes and running down her cheeks.

  “I haven’t told you, but the captain’s been sending me telegrams these past couple of weeks, demanding to know when I’m going to link up with the troupe,” Herman was explaining.

  “When are you leaving?” Erica asked simply, hopelessly.

  “Tomorrow… Erica, I love you.”

  She laughed lightly. “And I love you.” Her tears were on her lips. She kissed him, letting him taste the salt. “Just hold me for a moment,” she asked him. “Just for a moment…”

  “Oh, God,” Herman sighed. “Erica, maybe I don’t have to go. Your father came to talk to me at the garage last week. He’s no fool, your father. He knows how we feel about each other. He took me aside and told me that there was room here in his business for a son-in-law.”

  “You’re no farmer,” Erica scoffed.

  “And Teddy and I have become friends this past month,” Herman continued. “I’ve helped him out on some of his jobs. He’s got more work in his garage than he can handle, and we work well together. Maybe I could become a partner with him.” He paused. “A long time ago, I almost went into business with a friend running a garage…”

  Erica pulled away from him. “If you do anything like that, I’ll never see you again.”

  Herman stared at her. “I don’t understand. You said you love me?—”

  “I do. Too much to have you throw away your life,” she said fiercely. “You’ve told me countless times that you want to achieve great things in the field of aviation—”

  “I know, but—”

  “I believe you, Herman. I believe you can do it. I will not have you stay here, wasting your talents scratching in the dirt or fixing tractors. I want to help you accomplish your dreams, not be the cause of you abandoning them. Do you understand?”

  “It means I’ll have to go away, Erica.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll find something having to do with flying to support us, and then I’ll come back for you.”

  “If you don’t you’re a bigger fool than I thought you are, Herman Gold,” she warned him, nestling close. “You’ll come back, and you’ll take me away with you.”

  “Come with me flying,” Herman said.

  “Now?” Erica asked, startled.

  “Right now. The airplane’s all ready,” Herman said. “We trucked it out to the field and gassed it up this afternoon.”

  “But it’s almost dark.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a clear night, and a full moon. We’ll have plenty of light.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “Please come. I want to show you something before I leave.”

  Erica hesitated. Herman smiled down at her. God, she loved him when he was like this! She gazed at him; at his unruly red curls and thick moustache; at his piercing blue eyes, usually filled with obtuse thoughts about his machines, but just now simply bright with adoration.

  She would go with him. It would be worth all the trouble that would come down upon her from her parents to go with him now. To be able to have this memory of him, like a soaring eagle, to hold once he was gone.

  She rode behind him on the motorcycle, clutching on to him, letting his back shelter her from the wind. She’d never been on a motorcycle before. She thought the sensation was something like flying, and she understood why Herman loved the cycle so much.

  When they reached the field she was surprised to see Teddy Quinn’s truck parked next to the tarp-shrouded Jenny. Teddy was just finishing lighting a number of widely spaced lanterns running parallel to each other, marking out a stretch of runway.

  “You knew we were going to go flying all along, Herman Gold!” Erica admonished above the buzz of the motorcycle.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise,” Herman said as he pulled up beside the truck.

  “He took me up this afternoon.” Teddy laughed as he came over to them. “I figure your ride is going to be a bit more romantic—”

  “Hey!” Herman scowled. He pressed his finger to his lips.

  “What’s going on here?” Erica demanded suspiciously, looking from one to the other.

  “I’ve said too much already.” Teddy shook his head. “Never could keep my mouth shut.”

  Erica watched as the two men pulled the tarp from the Jenny. “She’s beautiful, again!” Erica cried out. The airplane’s fresh scarlet paint, and her bright new metalwork protruding from the open cowling, glistened and gleamed in the moonlight. “Where are the German Crosses?” she asked.

  “We left them off,” Herman said. “I figure it’d be healthier for the count to travel incognito until I can hook up with the troupe.”

  He helped her into the front cockpit, where she found a light jacket and pair of goggles. Herman strapped her in and then got into the rear, pilot’s cockpit. Erica waited anxiously as Herman and Teddy went through their preflight routine. She wondered if she was going to enjoy night flying as much as she had flying on that glorious afternoon when Herman had turned the heavens upside down for her.

  Finally the Jenny’s engine caught, setting its brand-new propeller spinning. They taxied along between the two strings of lanterns, which blended into a glowing blur as the airplane picked up speed. She adjusted her goggles against the delicious wind. She felt the wheels rumbling along the short grass, and then came that supreme moment when they lifted off. She laughed, exhilarated, knowing now that flying would always be magical for her and that she would always love airplanes. She even patted the Jenny’s vibrating, taut, fabric flank, like she would a beloved and faithful horse.

  Herman flew gently. Erica felt as if she were being magically levitated. For a while they followed the river, the fat, ivory-hued August moon’s reflection in the water turning that river into an opalescent serpent slithering across the dark earth.

  The airplane titled back, its nose rising as Herman gained altitude. Now Erica could only see the night, velvety black, and the infinite and brilliant lacework of ice-blue stars, seemingly close enough to touch.

  He brought the plane around in a gentle banking turn. Suddenly the engine was quiet! Erica, alarmed, twisted against her harness to look back toward Herman.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve cut her on purpose. Everything’s fine,” Herman reassured her. His voice carried clearly in the relative silence, except for the low burble of the idled engine and the soft rustle of wind. “Look down,” he called.

  Erica cried out, delighted. Below was the town—her town—but from this perspective it looked neither provincial nor drab. It looked magnificently dusted with a webbing of light, like a starry constellation fallen intact to earth.

  Herman whished
her back and forth over the town, the quiet, gliding airplane riding the wind. It was their own flying carpet, Erica thought. It was like flying in a dream.

  “This is what I wanted to show you,” Herman told her. “I’ve no money to buy you jewelry. Those lights are the jewels I can give you now. If you’ll agree to marry me, they’ll symbolize our engagement until I can afford to buy you a ring.”

  “I’ll wait for you, my love,” Erica called out to him. “I’ll wait for as long as it takes.”

  “Remember tonight,” she heard him plead. “Remember tonight when I’m gone.”

  (Two)

  Gold brought the Jenny down to land, guided by the beacons strung out along the field, gratified but not surprised that Teddy had stuck to his offer to make sure that all the lanterns remained lit. Gold had learned that his new friend was a man of his word.

  Gold cut the engine and came to a stop by the truck. Teddy was beside the plane even before the prop had stopped turning.

  “Well?” Teddy demanded. “What happened?”

  “The Jenny flew fine,” Gold said, deadpan, hopping out of the plane.

  “That’s not what I’m asking about!” Teddy exploded. He looked at Erica, who had unbuckled her own harness and was climbing down to the ground. “Did this oaf ask you to marry him, or not?”

  “He did, and I said I would.” Erica laughed, happily embracing Teddy.

  Gold watched, amused, as Teddy awkwardly endured Erica’s kiss on the cheek, muttering all the while about sentimental womenfolk. Then he and Teddy set out to collect the lanterns and load them into the back of the truck. “Want me to help you cover the Jenny with the tarp?” Teddy asked when they were done.

  “I’ll do it after she cools down a bit,” Herman said.

  “I guess I’ll be going, then,” Teddy said. He shook hands with Gold. “Congratulations on your engagement, friend. You still planning to be on your way west, first thing tomorrow?” When Herman nodded, Teddy said, “Then let’s meet at the garage at dawn. I’ll give you a lift out to the field and see you off.”