John’s initial reaction was a loud gasp. He then pushed the left rudder pedal to help stabilize the aircraft, but unfortunately he shoved it too far forward. The aircraft reversed itself and swung to the left, forcing John to relax his pressure on the pedal. A moment later, the aircraft began yawing uncontrollably to the left and right, a phenomenon that is often referred to as a Dutch roll. John tried desperately to get the airplane stabilized, but it seemed his every input only made things worse.
With its equilibrium lost, the heavy airplane began to shake; while, at the same time, the number four engine commenced emitting an ear-splitting screech. John scanned the gauges, but everything was a blur. He knew he had to get ahead of the situation…and fast!
*
Sonny was forced to loosen his grip on Marie’s neck in order to get himself into position. His pants were on the floor around his ankles, and as he reached over to pull Marie’s under garments down, the airplane suddenly swerved sideways. The unexpected movement caused Sonny to lose his balance. On his way down, Sonny’s thoughts instantly turned to Lars. He wondered what the kid was up to. At that moment, he vowed to kill Lars as slowly as possible. He wanted to force him to beg for mercy. But the fornicator would receive no mercy because the young engineer had simply gone too far.
Sonny tried to break his fall with his hands, but the room was much too small. He hit the floor hard. Sonny’s head instantly became lodged against the wall, while the rest of him ended up wedged against the door and the base of the toilet. Though unhurt, his body lay twisted on the floor like a pretzel.
Marie grabbed the fork she had placed on the vanity, ready to do whatever it took.
*
Mark Small dropped his glass to the floor in a panic. “I knew this thing was falling apart,” he said in a barely audible tone. Then retreating back inside himself, he gripped the seat in front of him. Uh, it would, uh, be best if I replaced all the gaskets. Yes, go ahead and buy an entire gasket kit…
*
As he was exiting the forward lav, the intense swaying of the aircraft caused Captain Pratt to lose his footing. He tried to protect himself, but his head slammed into the wall before he could get his hands up. He stumbled while trying to stand erect, but again lost his balance. He fell to the floor, only vaguely aware that there was an engine problem. A second before he passed-out, he told himself to fight it; that he was needed up front. But it was too late. Feeling as though he’d been struck by a brick, Charles lay motionless, unable to move.
In a matter of moments, pandemonium broke out in the cabin as everyone simultaneously arrived at the same conclusion: The end was near. That assumption prompted men and women alike to cry out in fear.
Kelly quickly moved to the front of the cabin and yelled, “Everyone remain seated! If you’re up, grab on to something and hold tight! We’ll be out of this turbulence in a minute.”
When the melee began, Sue Gruber was standing next to Mark Small’s seat. Without a word, she knelt in the aisle and held his hand, providing them both with a feeling of comfort.
*
Bracing herself against the wall of the aft lav with Sonny at her feet, Marie seized the moment. She quickly moved forward and placed her right foot on Sonny’s neck. She then grabbed the faucet with her left hand and pushed her right hand hard against the wall. Next, Marie placed her left foot against the aft wall to give her leverage and then forced all one hundred and five pounds of her weight onto Sonny’s neck.
The floor of the tiny lav was so small there was nowhere for Sonny to go. His one arm was behind his back on the floor and the other was jammed against the door. In pain and unable to breathe, Sonny tried desperately to pull his arms free so he could get his hands around Marie’s ankle, but he simply didn’t have the room to move. He then attempted to move his legs so he could kick at her, but his attempt failed. Sonny was powerless, unable to budge an inch. He looked up, hoping for sympathy, but found none.
Marie stood over her tormentor pushing and pushing, while he lay motionless on the floor struggling for air. “How dare you try and take advantage of me on my honeymoon!” she spat out with unrestrained fury in her voice. “I did what I had to in order to get by. I’m not that girl anymore, and I won’t allow you or anyone else to ruin the life I’ve found!”
Above all the noise created outside the lav by the engines, Marie could hear Sonny gurgling. She pressed harder.
Sonny struggled, but could feel himself losing consciousness. He looked his attacker in the eyes, pleading silently for her to relent, willing her to have mercy, but all he saw was the fire of death staring back. His eyes shifted to and fro, signaling that he was in pain, but his killer would not give up. He saw a bright flash of light and wondered if it was the angel of death. He tried to focus. Oddly, he concluded, it was the light reflecting off of a silver fork that was poised in the fingers of Marie’s right hand.
Sonny stared at Marie’s magnificent body with regret. He could feel his eyes bulging out, but all colors began to run together; things became undefined. The last thing Sonny saw before he passed-out was the prize he’d sought, but would never again enjoy.
*
Charles opened his eyes, unsure of what was happening around him. He could almost sense his brain yelling at him to pay attention. It took a few seconds, but eventually the sound of the runaway propeller and the associated yaw brought him around. He tried to get up, but couldn’t.
*
Marie stood on Sonny’s neck for much longer than was necessary to kill him, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She’d felt his body go limp, but remained undeterred. This, she knew, was only going to end one way--her way.
When she thought it safe to do so, she moved her left foot and then stood with both feet firmly planted on the dead man’s neck. Life had left him, but still she stood, breathing heavily, struggling to regain her composure. Marie barely noticed that the racing engine noise had returned to normal.
*
“She’s going over onto her back!” cried Asa.
“Hang on, Asa! I’ve got it!” said John.
The airplane was out of control, but John stayed with it, trying desperately to right the ship. The acting captain channeled every one of his four thousand hours into his hands and feet, willing them to work in unison. Outside was a black void. With no way of knowing where the horizon was, John struggled to focus his eyes on the vibrating instruments. The blurry dials before him were all that he had; he knew they were the keys to survival. He told himself to concentrate.
John squinted at his artificial horizon and was shocked by what he saw. The gauge indicated that the airplane was rapidly approaching the edge of its approved operating envelope. The nose was pitched up nearly twenty degrees, and the bank was so steep, it looked like the four engine transport was indeed getting ready to flip over!
Mere moments before the out of control DC6 rolled completely inverted, John pushed the nose down, reduced the thrust on all four engines and then centered the rudder. After a few short seconds, he rolled the aircraft to the right and leveled the wings. Almost immediately, the airplane settled down.
Ever-so-slowly, sound crept into John’s consciousness. He could hear one of the propellers screaming in protest. John momentarily took his eyes off of the flight instruments and stole a quick glance at the engine gauges. Then, without looking, John’s hand found the number four prop control. Using his ears as a guide, he toggled it back to normal. Agonizing moments passed.
The senior copilot had successfully managed to tame the wild beast. John’s cool thinking under pressure, refusing to give up when all seemed lost, saved them all.
“What in the world are you doing?!” screamed John, as he pushed Lars aside to double-check the setting of the number four propeller.
“Sorry, John, I must have slipped,” said Lars, with fake sincerity in his voice.
“Are you trying to get us all killed, you fool?” asked John as his hands moved across the pedestal, resetting the power
and checking to be sure that all the knobs, levers and controls were where they should be.
“I’m sorry. It was an accident,” claimed Lars.
John glared at Lars, but said nothing. He exhaled deeply and then turned to reengage the autopilot. Next, he methodically rechecked all of his instruments, pointing at each one as his eyes moved swiftly across the panel.
Ed Vito had been standing on his stool gazing at the stars when the sudden swaying caused him to fall backwards onto the flight engineer’s panel. A little scared and quite a bit surprised, he looked up and exclaimed, “Holy cow, Lars!”
Lars looked at Ed and asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m OK, but you’d better check your panel. I think I might have moved a couple of things when I fell.” Then a few moments later he added, “Hey, guys, check it out. G.R. snored through the whole thing.”
*
Marie could hear her husband calling her name as he rapped lightly on the door.
“Marie, honey, are you all right? Is everything OK?”
“I’m fine, dear. Give me a moment. I’ll be right out,” said Marie.
She struggled in the tiny room to get Sonny’s body upright. She pulled his underwear down to his ankles and then placed his lifeless buttocks on the toilet seat. When everything looked satisfactory, as if the poor unfortunate man had simply died of a heart attack, she took a minute to straighten her hair. Then, before exiting the lav, Marie took the unused fork and tossed it into the waste basket, grateful its use was not required.
Marie opened the door just enough to squeeze out and then closed it tightly behind her. She quickly grabbed her husband’s arm and said, “I missed you. I got so scared in there when the engine started acting up, I couldn’t move.”
“I’m just thankful you’re all right, honey,” said Dirk, as the two strolled quietly back to their seats.
*
“Captain, can you hear me? Captain Pratt, are you OK? Captain?”
“Uh, yes, I’m all right,” said the captain as he slowly climbed from the floor of the forward passenger compartment. Other men in suits stood nearby, watching, ready to lend a hand. And he could see two or three women in fine dresses standing safely away from the action.
Charles stood, brushed off his pants and shirt and then returned his white cap to its rightful place, taking a moment to be certain that it was adjusted just so. His jaw still throbbing, he rubbed it with both hands. It felt broken. He checked to see if his nose was bleeding, and was pleased that it wasn’t. With his head still spinning, Captain Pratt braced himself against the wall, struggling to gather his thoughts.
“Would you like me to get you something?” asked Kelly.
“I’m fine, thank you,” replied the Captain. Then looking toward the other passengers nearby, he added, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please accept my most sincere apologies for all of this unnecessary commotion. You may return to your seats. Everything is fine.”
Captain Charles Pratt slowly gathered himself together. He organized his thoughts and then opened the cockpit door. He stepped in, closed the door behind him and stood silently for a moment, gazing forward into the dimly lit cockpit.
Then rage.
Ten
“What on God’s green earth are you doing, John! Are you deliberately trying to kill us all?” screamed Charles. “In all my years, I have not once witnessed such incompetence!”
“Charles, I…” offered John, before being cut off.
“Save it, Mister. Get out of my seat! You have proven yourself unworthy to sit there!” exclaimed Charles.
“Captain, if I may?” injected Lars.
“Yes, Lars, what is it?” asked Charles with anger and disgust in his voice.
“I was setting the mixture control and lost my footing. To catch myself, I unfortunately placed my palm over the number four prop switch and sent it into low pitch. It was an accident, sir, and totally my fault.”
Charles would not hear it. Though furious that an underling had lost control of the airplane and nearly killed them all, he was more upset at the notion of being hauled across the chief pilot’s carpet. The thought of being in trouble for something he had no control over left him unable to think straight. He knew that in a month’s time the head office would receive a letter or two from their frightened passengers, and he would be the one left holding the bag. Though he had no tangible evidence, he long feared that management was out to get him and he simply could not bear the thought of giving them any fuel for the fire.
Charles, like many pilots, lived in a near constant state of paranoia. It’s one of the reasons they are able to survive their careers. Though it’s wise for men of the air to avoid trusting anything or anyone completely, because they will likely get bit, those same fears often hinder their personal lives. Some figure that out and cope accordingly; Charles never did.
“Lars, who is the captain in my absence?” asked Charles in a biting tone.
“Well, sir…” said Lars.
“John is the acting captain, that’s who. If any of you men foul up, it’s the captain who will take the fall. I can just see the New York chief pilot now, standing behind his desk and threatening me with my job for allowing such incompetent fools to run the circus. Do you think he’ll listen if I tell him that it was your fault, Lars? Do you? Well, do you?” asked Charles, clearly annoyed. Then turning way from Lars he added, “John, take a one-hour break. Then I want you to come back up here and occupy the right seat for the remainder of the flight. I plan to keep a very close eye on you. At some point between now and the time we return to New York, I sincerely hope that you can convince me not to have you terminated. I will not be the only one who goes down because of this.”
John stood and proceeded to the aft part of the cockpit. He paused for a moment to defend himself, but then thought better of it. He decided the smarter play would be to allow his angry captain to calm down first. Then maybe, just maybe, he thought, I can smooth this whole thing over before we get back to New York. With his probation period nearly over, he simply could not allow any more screw-ups. John, concerned about his future, sincerely hoped he could dazzle his captain with exceptional performance before the trip concluded. After all, he still had a few days and it wouldn’t be over ‘till the fat lady sang.
John closed the cockpit door behind him feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just when it appeared as though he’d finally managed to get his life back on track the powers of the universe were once again messing with him, and holding his happiness hostage. He was both confused and frustrated. He had no idea why the gods were so intent on holding him down. John was forced to admit to himself that his life had probably always been completely out of his control. He wondered what it was that made him such a target for evil. He looked up from the floor in his creeping depression to see Liesel standing a few feet away, wearing a cautious smile.
In the blink of an eye nothing else in the world mattered; the woman of John’s dreams had brought him back to life with a smile. It was a remarkable transformation that Liesel could see and John could feel.
“Hi, Liesel, it’s wonderful to see you,” said John with a slight smile on the outside, but with a smile that screamed “I love you” on the inside.
“Wow! Are you all right, John?” asked Liesel with genuine concern. “What happened up there?”
“Do you have time to talk?” he asked.
“Yes, absolutely. Let’s go to the back to where we can almost be alone,” said Liesel.
Standing together in the aft part of the cabin, only a few feet from Sonny Viscelli’s body, John said, “Both pilots are required by company policy to monitor two frequencies while enroute. We listen to the facility controlling our aircraft as well as one other that we use for various enroute tasks. Sometimes there is a great deal of static on the higher frequencies, so only the pilot who is actually talking on the radio will monitor and communicate. Asa misheard a clearance that could have caused some problems had we not caug
ht it in time. Unfortunately, Charles overheard the entire thing. Then the moment he left the cockpit, Lars accidently pushed one of our props up to its maximum RPM. Of course it didn’t take long for things to get a little crazy. Now Charles is considering having me terminated. Liesel, we have to change his mind somehow. My probation period is nearly over.”
“How did Lars make such a big mistake?” asked Liesel.
“He said he slipped. I thought the air was rather smooth, but I suppose he could have lost his footing.”
“Yeah, once you guys started climbing it got real smooth back here,” noted Liesel.
“It is curious, but I have no reason to doubt Lars. An accident is the only plausible explanation,” said John. “Liesel, I can’t go back to the way it was, I can’t. I have a job that I love, and I even managed to meet a wonderful woman like you.”
Liesel didn’t immediately respond.
John frowned and shook his head, wondering, Was it an accident? Could it be that Lars did it on purpose? But why?
Eleven
“Wow, Grandpa,” said Jack, “it sounds like Mr. Tacker was a pretty good pilot.”
“Oh, I’m sure he was. After all, Pan Am only hired the best,” replied Bill. “Now, did you tighten the bleed screws on the brake lines like I told you? We don’t want any air getting into those lines,” he added as he walked around the airplane, stopping every few feet to inspect his grandchildren’s work.
“Yes sir, I sure did.” said Jack. “Just like you said.”
“OK, kids, now it’s important that we all understand our jobs. This engine hasn’t been started for quite a while, so we have to be ready for anything. Lucy, don’t panic if you see a fire. Just remember what I said: Aim the nozzle of the extinguisher at the base of the flame and sweep it back and forth. Jack, you stand off to the side and make sure everything is clear. If something goes awry, wave your arms and sing out,” said Bill.
Sojourners of the Sky Page 8