Test Pilot's Daughter: Revenge

by Ward, Steve

  “Well, well!” exclaimed Heather. “Listen to this. Looks like we got a real man in the group.”

  Billy turned red when she walked over and gave him a big hug. He looked down at the ground embarrassed.

  “I can see our new friend here is going to be quite an asset,” Heather asserted.

  Christina agreed. “Girls, I think it’s time to put William here in charge of the Water department. If you can supply the water, Billy, we’ll knight you, Sir William of Neptune, and you’ll no longer be considered a kid in these parts.”

  “Great, I’ll take that job,” he said, standing tall with a big smile. “Now, there are a few other details we need to consider.” His stomach growled like a lion right on cue, and the girls giggled.

  “Is there any food in the survival gear?” Christina asked.

  “Some granola bars,” Jessica said. “Do you want me to read the list of stuff we found?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.”

  “Okay, here’s what:

  four man raft

  first aid kit

  weather radio

  four one-quart canteens

  fifty water purification tablets

  twelve granola bars

  two bailing buckets

  flashlight

  whistle

  Swiss Army knife

  twenty five feet of rope

  fifty waterproof matches

  six life vests

  compass

  four rolls of toilet tissue.”

  “Well, hallelujah!” Christina chuckled, reaching outward. “Thank God for the toilet paper! Here, gimme.”

  “Of course,” Billy added, “we also have Pop’s fishing stuff, your snorkel gear and two spear guns.”

  “Why don’t I go check out those reefs?” Jessica pointed offshore. “We could get a pretty good feel for the local fish population.”

  “Christina,” Billy said, “my survival handbook says that a group of people lost in the wilderness should appoint a leader. We’ll need someone to make decisions. Since you got us down here in one piece, I nominate you. Does everyone agree?”

  “Great idea, Billy,” Jessica saluted.

  Heather was still pouting.

  “Heather?” Jessica chided.

  Heather wasn’t so sure, she said softly, “What about you William? You seem to know a lot.”

  “Naaah,” Billy looked down and kicked the sand. “I can’t boss you guys around.”

  “Heather?” Jessica repeated, louder this time.

  “Yeah, yeah. I guess. Whatever.”

  Christina didn’t seem that sure either. “Wait a minute. I’ve got some outdoor experience myself, but I’m not sure I want the job. Things may get a lot worse. What’s the saying about the Captain going down with the ship?”

  “That’s why we need a leader,” Billy said.

  “Okay,” she said. “But just remember, when the shit hits the fan, it wasn’t my idea.” That said, she wandered toward the cliffs, out of sight, toilet paper in hand.

  * * *

  Later that morning, Christina came back with her plan. The lack of rescue was troublesome, but she felt confident and ready to take charge. It was a natural role, and she went quickly through the priorities.

  “Jessica, take your snorkel gear and spear gun out on the reef and see if you can catch us something to eat. Heather, if you would please, go through our clothes and find the brightest colors. Try to write HELP across the beach in large letters. William, you can get something set up to catch rainwater. Tie the canopy onto the wings of the airplane to increase the surface area. We can put our bedding under the wings for some shelter. I’ll help you get the tow bar out and drag the plane up higher on the beach. Hopefully, someone will see it and pick us up.” She hesitated, garnering a solemn look. “After we get the most critical things done, Billy, we can use the tow bar to scratch out a grave. . .bury your granddad. Sorry, but we’ll need that plastic sheet that’s over him now for water collection.”

  With the help of her crew, Christina struggled to pull the plane up on the beach where it could be more easily spotted. Billy dug sand out from under the right wing, using the life raft to create a comfy shelter. He tied the canopy to the left wing and staked it down in two Vs to direct rainwater into plastic containers. It seemed like a futile effort, because the sky was bright blue.

  By the end of the second day, the troops were tired, hot and bone dry. The few sips of water they had taken during the day left them with a serious case of dry mouth. But overall, the group had made good progress. A large, brightly colored HELP sign adorned the white beach. Jessica speared a large parrotfish and two small lobsters, which Billy carefully staked over the campfire. Last but not least, Hank was buried in a sandy grave. They marked it with a cross scratched across the face of a large stone and covered the mound with rocks. As their newly elected commander, Christina managed a short ceremony, asking Billy to say a few words.

  “Pop was a great guy, an awesome pilot and a good man. He loved two things, flying and fishing, and he took me along. He was the perfect granddad. Even better, my best friend. Goodbye, Pop.” Billy threw a handful of sand on his grave. He struggled to hold back the tears, but it was no use. He turned away from the girls and sobbed.

  Jessica put her arm around his shoulders and stroked his hair. “Sorry Billy.”

  Christina tried to think of something appropriate to say. “Dear God, here lies your servant, Hank Rogers. He loved his family and made his living in a very honorable profession. Bless his soul and accept him into your kingdom. Amen.”

  “Amen,” the other girls said in unison.

  As the sun lowered over the horizon, the group ate a bland fish dinner by hand, spitting out bones. They finished off the last of the bottled water. Exhausted, they sat by the fire and watched a small thunderstorm pass by to the west. The setting sun painted a brilliant rainbow across the sky and colored the cumulus clouds in shades of orange and white. Off in the distance, a waterspout danced under dark clouds and threw a white mist up in its wake. It was an incredible sight, and Christina hoped it was a good omen. Dear God, we need rain.

  “William, do you know how to use the water purification tablets?” she asked. “If it doesn’t rain tomorrow, we’re in deep shit.”

  “The tablets are no help with salt water. They’re used to purify fresh water so it won’t make you sick. Don’t think we’ll find any fresh water on this piece of crap island.”

  “Did the Boy Scouts teach you how to purify salt water?”

  “No,” he replied, “but I read an article about it once. It’s just a matter of boiling it and getting the steam to condense on something you can drain into a container. If you hold a flat piece of glass at an angle over a boiling pot, you would see the water condense and run down to one corner. If you let it drip into a bucket, you’d end up with pure water.”

  “Doesn’t a still use coiled metal tubing for condensation?” Jessica asked. “I guess we wouldn’t have anything like that.”

  Billy scratched his head. “Got a large metal funnel we use to put oil in the plane. We could take one of the spear guns apart and use the aluminum tubing. If we boil water in our cook pot and put the funnel on top, the tubing might work. Not sure, but nothing to lose.”

  “William, you’re a genius.” Heather gave him another hug. Billy looked like he was enjoying the attention. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed back.

  “Christina, think it’ll work?” Jessica asked.

  “Don’t have a clue, but I can guarantee one thing: if it doesn’t rain tonight, we sure as hell are going to find out. I suggest when you say your prayers, ask for a downpour. ”

  After dark, Billy turned on the small weather radio. Far from any station, it was only able to pick up some faint signals that would come and go. He had one long enough to hear that the first hurricane of the year was brewing somewhere off the coast of Africa.

  As soon as she heard the word hurricane, Jessica got a worrie
d look and said, “God no.”

  “Be careful what you pray for,” Heather whispered as she curled up under the wing.

  * * *

  The survivors woke up thirsty. The sky was deep blue, the sea calm. It was a beautiful day in the Bahamas, too beautiful, no hope for showers. Billy was concerned. The idea of dying of thirst wasn’t good. He had read a story about a group of people stranded at sea in a life raft. The tale of those who died of dehydration was horrid. He was afraid to share it with his new friends.

  “Listen, Christina, we’ve got to do something, or we’ll be in trouble soon,” Billy stated the obvious. “After a day or two more, we won’t have the strength to do anything about it. Need to make an all out effort today.”

  “Good, William. Let’s think this through.”

  “I can start working on a still,” he volunteered. “Those dead bush stumps seem to burn pretty hot. I’ll see if I can get some sea water boiling.”

  “Based on the looks of the weather, Billy, your idea will be the first priority.”

  “Okay, I’ll get going.”

  “Heather, why don’t you stay here and give Billy a hand? Jessica and I will walk the island and see what’s on the far end. Maybe we can find some water or a likely place to dig. We’ll try to get back late this afternoon and check your progress.”

  Christina and Jessica put on denims and tennies and marched off to the south. Billy and Heather set up shop at the cliffs. He found a cubbyhole that would make a nice protected “oven.” Arranging rocks in a circle for a fire pit, he rounded up driftwood and brush stumps. With hot coals from the signal fire, he was able to get a fire going with little effort.

  “First, let’s see if we can get this hot enough to boil,” Billy said as he handed one of the metal pails to Heather. The thought of working with her sent his hormones raging. Her bikini clad body painted a stirring image. He gulped trying to get his vocal chords to work and said, “Would you. . .” his voiced cracked. Shit! C’mon you weenie. “Uhungh. Heather, would you please get some clean water in this? Just fill it up about a third of the way. Make sure there’s no sand.”

  He couldn’t help but stare as she jogged toward the beach. If it weren’t for the dryness in his mouth, he would’ve drooled. He turned his head trying to concentrate. He took some metal coat hangers out of the luggage and straightened them out. Weaving several together, he was able to fashion a functional grill, resting it on the rocks right over the hottest coals.

  Heather returned panting for air. “Here you go, Billy.”

  His eyes bugged toward heaving breasts. He couldn’t speak.

  “I hope this works,” she said.

  “Uh. . .yeah. . .me too.”

  Billy rigged the funnel over the pail, spout upward, and secured it with some wire he found in the plane. Then he set his boiling pot on top of the grill. He waited quite a long time but nothing happened.

  “You know what they say,” Heather teased with big goo-goo eyes, “a watched pot never boils. Maybe we shouldn’t watch it.”

  “Yeah right.” Was that a blonde joke? he wondered. “No, we gotta get some oxygen in there. Would you find something to fan the flames? I’ll try to rig up an aluminum tube from the spear gun for condensation. That is, if we ever get any steam.” He was beginning to lose confidence.

  Heather fanned the flames like a wild woman, her breasts waving Billy into a hypnotic stupor. Finally she screamed, “Look! Smoke!”

  He shook his head and said, “Hallelujah. It really is steam.” As a tiny bit of condensation started to drip from the end of the tube, Billy arranged one of the canteens just beneath to catch every drop of precious nectar. It was hard work but after about an hour of periodic fanning, the seawater had completely boiled out, and they had about six ounces of pure water. Their make-shift still wasn’t very efficient. Most of the water was lost to steam, but they were very excited with the result.

  “You’re brilliant, Billy,” she beamed.

  All of a sudden he felt like a real man. Kick ass, buddy, kick ass!

  The long and deliberate process gave them a chance to get to know each other. They passed the time with conversations about their pasts and dreams of the future. Billy was totally mesmerized. She was by far the best looking woman he had ever seen. When he finally began to relax, he felt privileged to have her as a captive audience. He went on about his life in West Palm. He had just finished his sophomore year, where he played the coronet in the marching band. A smart kid who excelled in math and science, he also loved the outdoors.

  After a while they had collected two canteens full of water.

  “William, I just can’t believe you figured this out,” Heather said. She seemed happy to feed his ego.

  “It isn’t a very good still,” Billy admitted, “but I reckon it’s better than nothin’.”

  To keep themselves occupied over the long hours of distillation, they started playing word games in the sand. One would scramble the letters of a long word, and the other would try to figure it out. Heather was quite good at decoding anagrams, and she delighted in the game. With his teenage mind at work, Billy kept thinking up words with sexual overtones. He thought it was great fun to gauge her reaction to words like:

  S-E-X-U-A-L-I-T-Y

  “William, aren’t you a little young to be thinking about sex all the time?”

  “No,” he looked down, a little embarrassed. “I expect I’m just right.”

  “So how about girls? Do you have a girlfriend?”

  He thought for a minute. “There’s this one girl I really like. Her name is Kathy. She was in my algebra class, very good looking.”

  “So, how long have you been dating?”

  “Dating? Shucks, I haven’t even worked up the guts to talk to her yet. What am I supposed to do, ask her to ride on my bike? Can’t get a driver’s license till next year.”

  “Well, you could talk to her and tell her how you feel.”

  “Sure. She’d laugh right in my face.”

  “I don’t think so. I find you a very attractive young man, and quite clever. If I was in her shoes, I’d be happy if you showed some interest.”

  He stammered. Fantasies of Heather in the back seat of a car ran amok. “I’d love to talk to her, but I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “Come on, it’s not that hard. Just say. . .say anything.”

  “Yeah, easy for you. You’re the girl. You don’t have to stand there and look stupid.”

  “I’ve got it,” Heather volunteered. “Why don’t you pretend I’m Kathy and give me your best shot?”

  He started to say something when he looked down at her voluptuous body. He completely choked. “Naaah, too embarrassing.”

  “Come on, there’s nobody here but us chickens. What have you got to lose? Maybe I can give you a few pointers.”

  “Okay.” He cleared his throat and tried to think of something. “Hey. . .Hey, Kathy, do you want to come over to my house tonight? I’ll help you with your homework.”

  Heather raised her voice an octave and said, “Why Billy, I didn’t know you cared.”

  Billy looked her right in the eyes. He moved up closer to her face, and his voice dropped. “I really do care. I just think you’re the most beautiful girl in school, and I’d be honored to call you my girlfriend.”

  “That’s one of the nicest things anyone ever said to me, Billy. Do you really mean it?”

  “I’ll show you.” Mustering his courage, Billy leaned over and kissed her right on the lips. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her harder, then backed off expecting the worst.

  “Easy there, fella,” Heather smiled. “Well, at least you don’t need acting lessons.”

  “So what do you think? You said take my best shot.” He wanted to kiss her again.

  “Uh, I have to say, William, that approach would do it for me,” she lied, trying not to hurt his feelings. “If I was Kathy, I’d be all over you. But that’s because I already know you. You’ll have to go a l
ittle slower with Kathy. The main thing is to create situations where she can get to know you like I do. See if she’ll sit with you at lunch or at the library. Find out what she likes and doesn’t like. Make a point to talk to her a little every day. After she gets to know you, ask her to a school dance, even if you have to get your parents to drive. Believe me, unless she’s a bimbo, she’ll respond.”