Demon's Well

by E. R. Mason

  “You listen to that engine when you were doing those checks, Cadet?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Your ear is a way better mag check than that RPM indicator. You get me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Brake off, ease up to full power staying on the runway. You go off we got to taxi around and try it again. As we head down the runway, you’ll feel me push in some forward stick to get the ass-end up. I’m doing it this time ‘cause I don’t want you plowing the runway with our prop. After that she’ll steer real easy. At 50 knots you give some gentle back pressure on the stick till the nose comes up off the runway. Then, if it seems okay, the airplane is yours. Straight out departure, climb to 2000 and keep it there. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “238 cleared for takeoff. Usually the tower will tell you that, but on days like this there’s no way they can control the circus.”

  Jax released the brakes and slowly powered up. The aircraft quickly jumped forward but wanted to go to one side then the other. It was all he could do to stop from dropping off the side. As his struggle continued, Pappy’s voice cut in. “Full power, Cadet! Don’t be lollygagging!”

  Jax pushed the throttle all the way forward. The aircraft raced ahead. As he struggled to keep it straight, he suddenly felt the forward push on the stick and the rear of the plane lifted up. Suddenly steering was easy and he could see the runway ahead.

  The airspeed indicator. He needed 50 knots. 40, 45, 50+. Jax pulled back on the stick not knowing what to expect. To his delight the nose lifted up and the runway fell below.

  “58, Cadet! 58! Not 59, not 57, 58.”

  Jax jerked the stick forward and back trying to make the airspeed 58. It jumped up and down with each movement of his hand.”

  “Gently, Mr. Kent. Gently.”

  Jax eased up and watched the indicator slowly come down to 58. He looked forward out one side of the cockpit and watched the treetops below come into view for the very first time. It was something he had dreamed of all his life, to see the trees from a bird’s eye view. The buildings and structures around were shrinking as they climbed. The wind in his face felt exhilarating. Without thinking, Jax raised one fist and yelped victoriously.

  Pappy came on the intercom. “With you there, Cadet. It never does get old.”

  Jax dared a look back at the airport. It seemed as though all the other aircraft had stopped to watch him depart. Just as suddenly bedlam broke out again as the others resumed their quest to follow with even greater enthusiasm.

  Suddenly the sky was the limit. Jax felt like his mind was expanding to accommodate the wider vision before him. There couldn’t be any greater feeling than this. There was no better place in the world to be. Wind and clouds and blue sky and a tiny green world below along with the wonderfully reassuring hum of the Tiger Moth’s engine, content in its best environment.

  Pappy became the best co-pilot imaginable. He coaxed the new pilot through banks and turns, climbs and descents. He seemed to be enjoying it. How could someone his age with so many flying hours still be so content up here? Only another pilot could understand.

  On the way back to the field, Pappy came over the intercom. “Your belt’s still tight, Mr. Kent?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Time for stomach testing and training.”

  “Sir?”

  Without warning, Pappy took the control stick and rolled the airplane upside down. He held in there for a moment, then nosed over toward the ground, pulling smoothly up to complete a half loop. Next were barrel rolls, six of them, one after the other. He pulled back sharply and flew straight up until the aircraft could go no higher. It pitched over radically to one side and fell and spun toward the earth. At thousand feet he pulled up and leveled off.

  “Still with me, Cadet?”

  Jax had not vomited. He had managed to keep it all in his mouth and throat. It took a few moments to arrange things for speech.

  “Still here, sir.”

  “I’ll take the landing, Cadet. Sit back.”

  As the Tiger Moth rolled down the runway, Jax could not contain the smile stretching across his face. Pappy pulled in and parked. The engine shimmied to a stop almost as though it did not want to.

  Pappy spoke as he unplugged himself and stood in the back seat. “You tie her down, Cadet, and meet me in the flight operations office for your debriefing. Tie her good, because Willaby will be along to check it.”

  Pappy stepped down and headed for the office.

  By the time Jax reached the office his composure had almost returned, although he felt like a new person. He entered the office and was startled by the very attractive uniformed woman sitting at the front desk. Her blond hair was cut short, almost tom-boyish. Her face had the fine features of a very young person although clearly she was not. She had the expression of someone never completely satisfied, someone who might be willing to try anything once in hopes of finding that elusion. Jax stood gawking with his fight hood and goggles in hand.

  The woman looked up at him, did not find amusement in his stare, and folded her hands on the desk. “Yes?” she demanded.

  Completely disarmed, Jax began to stutter, something she also did not react to, probably having suffered it too many times. “Oh . . . ah, Neil Kent. Pappy . . . I mean flight review with Pappy.”

  “Have a seat over there,” she point to the farthest chair in the waiting area of her office. Jax wrung his gear as he nodded and stumbled away.

  Near where Jax sat, open double doors led to a series of small offices. Standing outside the farthest of them, Pappy was talking to a ranking officer. The two men seemed to think they were far enough away for privacy, but they were not. Watching the lips of the two men, Jax was able to fill in the blanks of the spoken low tones. Leaning forward, he could make out everything that was said.

  “I don’t understand Pap, what’s bothering you? How did he taxi?”

  “He had trouble but he was smart about it.”

  “Are you saying he already knew where all the controls were?”

  “No, he took a while finding everything.”

  “So, what then?”

  “It’s like this: After we settled in, he was too good. Nobody reads instruments like that on their first flight. He had the eye scan down. He had to have done it before.”

  “That’s not much to go on, Pappy.”

  “Somebody said keep an eye out. I’m bringing it to you, so there it is.”

  “Look, he’s aced everything he’s taken. The kid’s one of those born to fly types, that’s all. He’s got a photographic memory, Pap. You know what that will mean to us on bombing runs? He’ll find the target every damn time and he’ll bring us back better intel than the cameras.”

  “Only if he’s not working for the other side.”

  “Yes, but security’s been through this. It doesn’t add up that way. When they bombed out Southend the kid was just as likely to buy the farm as everyone else. They’d never do that with an agent. And, how could they know all his records were burned in three different locations. It’s impossible.”

  “It’s a coincidence, isn’t it? A pilot age guy who has no living relatives, just happens to have all his records destroyed, a guy who flies aircraft like a vet almost?”

  “If he was putting us on, he would have made himself look more amateur. He wouldn’t want any flags bein’ raised.”

  “All I’m sayin’ is, if he does make a bomber group, and his bombs keep missing the targets, you better have some real serious second thoughts.”

  “Play it straight, Pappy. I’ll pass what you’re saying onto Jack, but let’s not convict the kid. God knows, he’s been though the ringer already with his parents and all.”

  “If he’s the natural you’re sayin’, nobody’ll be happier than me,” replied Pappy.

  The men exchanged a few personal comments and broke apart. Pappy came back to the front office. Jax tried to look innocent.


  “Follow me, Cadet.” Pappy led the way to a small office nearby and shut the door. The two men sat and Pappy began filling out a small booklet. “This is your temporary log, Mr. Kent. You now have 2.3 hours of flight time. Congratulations. Any questions?”

  “Sir, how to you keep the airplane level when flying upside down?”

  Pappy looked up and smiled. “You pretend the blue is the ground and the green is the sky, Cadet. But don’t worry about that. You’ll be getting plenty in the near future.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You did very well, today. It’s too soon for me to start lecturing you on technique. So, go find some hot food and expect a celebration in the mess hall.”

  “Thanks, Pappy. I can’t tell you what today means to me.”

  “Cadet Kent, how many circuits can a pilot do in one hour?”

  “Circuits? You mean touch and goes, sir?”

  “Yes, Cadet, how many in an hour?”

  “I’m sorry sir. I don’t know.”

  “The answer is eight, Mr. Kent. You’ll be doing sixteen tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep after the celebration.”

  “Yes sir.”

  As promised, dinner in the mess hall was a noisy celebration. There were MPs stationed outside but clearly they were looking the other way. Slack was being cut for the new airmen.

  No beer was allowed, but there were ample toasts going around along with tall tales of heroism and daredevil flying. The phrase “in the ditch” was also used numerous times to describe the exploits of some of the less fortunate candidates.

  Jax’s “first man up” status did not go unmentioned. There were promises he would be put in his place on the next round. The melee went on quite late and almost as a new tradition, Jax’s group ended up in a poker game at the back of the hall. Once again, Jax was summoned to take part as a matter of honor.

  On the stipulation it would only be one game, Jax sat for seven card poker. Since he had lost every game played so far, he decided to try something new. “One eyed jacks are wild, gentleman.”

  As the deal progressed, he found himself with a pair of aces face up against Patterson who was showing three queens. With six cards dealt and a very large pot on the table, Jax considered folding.

  “You got that third ace Kent, or are you trying to bluff me?” teased Patterson. “There’s an easy way out of this. I got 10 shillings left here. How about I just slide that in and take that last card. You gonna stay, hot shot? You got that third ace, or you chicken?”

  “Who you calling chicken?” replied Jax. He matched the pot and dealt the last card face down.

  “I’m staying but everything I got is in the pot. You want to raise and I’ll match it? Just more goose for the gander,” declared Patterson. “I’m pat with the three queens. What’s it gonna be, Kent?”

  Jax lifted the corner of his last card and looked. A one-eyed Jack stared back. Patterson smiled and began to drag the pot into his corner. Jax flipped over his hand. Two aces and a wild card Jack.

  Stunned silence came over the group. Patterson stared down at the three aces. He looked up at Jax. “You drew that jack on the last card, didn’t you? You were betting me blind!”

  Jax wondered if a fight was about to break out. Patterson rose slowly from his seat, a wild look on his face.

  “Kent, this is the first hand you’ve won, isn’t it?”

  Jax sat silently afraid anything he could say might make things worse.

  Patterson looked around the table at his buddies. He picked up his drink and held it in a toast to his friends. “Gentlemen, I’ve got it! I hereby declare Mr. Hotshot here as ‘Jacks are wild!’ Call sign ‘Jacks,’ for short. We’ll paint it on the side of his ship when he gets one, ‘Jacks Are Wild!’”

  The group stood in stunned silence, looking back and forth at Patterson and Jax. Finally Scotty spoke. “He’s right, Kent. That’s the biggest run of luck you’ve had at the table. Now every mission you fly, every time you hear that call sign you’ll remember how much luck it brought you. You’ll take that luck with you when you fly.”

  Jax stood and held up his glass. “Gentlemen, ‘Jacks Are Wild,’ it is!”

  An eruption of applause, laughter, and shouting broke out. Secretly Jax wondered at the strange coincidence of inheriting the call sign “Jacks.”

  Chapter 16

  The call sign “Jacks,” proved to be more than just a surprise for Jax. Every time someone addressed him by that sign he silently heard another name attached to it; Skyla. It had been weeks since they were separated and weeks since he’d been able to visit the Leigh Library. And, despite all her secrets, he doubted there was any way for her to track him down.

  Classes and flying filled each day to the brim. But toward the end of the week, there finally came a chance. All aircraft would be down for routine maintenance on Sunday, and all of the instructors were scheduled for a special war planning. When the time seemed right, Jax made his way to the headquarters building. Alaina, the irresistible, looked up from her desk as he entered.

  “Yes, Neil. What can we do for you?” Alaina sat back and removed her glasses, appraising Jax with the same look drill sergeants use.

  “I need a minute with the Commander, but only when he’s not too busy, if you know what I mean.”

  “Are you going to try to sell one of the smartest men on Earth a bill of goods, Neil?”

  Jax pause, surprised by her repeated use of his first name. “No, I need to ask for something. It’s really important.”

  “How far you got to go?”

  “Near London.”

  “Meeting someone, are we. A love interest perhaps?”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s where the bomb caught me. I’m hoping to get back some of my personal stuff, if any survived.”

  Alaina’s haughty expression quickly dissolved into guilt. “Oh. Let me check. There’s nothing on his schedule for an hour. Let me peek around the corner.”

  She swished away and came back a few moments later. “You are in luck. Go ahead in. It’s alright to tell him I let you in.”

  “Thanks! Thanks, ma’am.”

  “It’s Alaina, Neil.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  Jax waited until the Commander Bretford was sitting back in his chair then knocked on the open door.

  “Mr. Kent. Come on in. I guess Alaina is approving my appointments again today.”

  Jax wasted no time in explaining his request.

  “A car and leave for the day on Sunday, Mr. Kent? That’s what you’re asking me for?”

  “Yes, sir. I wouldn’t ask except it’s important.”

  “What’s so important, Cadet?”

  “I want to visit the spot where the bomb hit. I want to check to see if any of my personal stuff was found, maybe by someone living nearby, if not the police or rescue people.”

  The Commander leaned forward in his chair. “Well I must say, I thought I’d heard every excuse known to man, but that’s a new one and it’s pretty good. Request approved. Alaina will call the motor pool right now and set it up for Sunday. Come back later today, she’ll have your papers ready. At least she lets me be in charge of that much.”

  Jax rose from his chair, clasping his hands. “Thank you so much, sir. I won’t forget this.”

  “It’s okay, Kent. You’ve had your share of hard knocks. Try to have some fun, okay?”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  When Sunday arrived, Jax headed out early for the three and a half hour trip. He reached the library building by 11:30 A.M. and sat on the steps until 2:00 P.M. The only person that passed by and waved was a friendly old lady in a baggy flowered dress, her grey hair up in a bun, walking a brown Shiatsu that looked older than she. Not only had the trip been a waste. It had seemed as though he was followed and watched, but imagination was a real possibility in that.

  Monday brought the best of antidotes to Sunday’s disappointment. Pappy began the day’s flight lesson with yet another circuit of the airf
ield, a touch and go landing, but this time, as Jax touched down, he came over the intercom and said, “Pull it over to the parking area, Jacks.”

  Jax wondered if he had made a serious mistake and was about to regret it. He had only 6.5 hours of flight time. Pappy couldn’t be expecting too much.

  As he pulled in to park, Pappy pushed himself up and climbed out with the engine still running. Jax fumbled around to begin the shut-down procedure, but before he could Pappy tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Taxi back out to the runway. Do one tight circuit, then come right back here,” instructed Pappy and he jumped down off the wing and headed for the control tower.

  Jax raised one hand and started to yell, “But . . .” Pappy looked back as he walked, gave the hand signal for “get going.”

  Alarm filled Jax’s mind. Was he asking for a solo after just six and a half hours? There had not been enough time for Jax to even consider such a thing. No one else had soloed. Maybe he needed to shut down and go discuss this with Pappy. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. He sat with the engine running and watched Pappy disappear into the control tower building. There were other cadets on the field. They were noticing what was transpiring. Some of them had stopped to watch, so had their instructors.

  The engine was still running. It sounded impatient. Maybe the headquarters people had decided he really was a spy and this was their way of getting rid of him.

  They wouldn’t wreck a plane for that.

  Well this was a fine how do you do. There was just nothing else to do but go for it. If it was a mistake and he ended up in a burning ball of wreckage it would be their fault. If it was a misunderstanding but he got down okay, there might be some difficult questions but he would have simply obeyed orders.

  With an indignant sigh, Jax powered up the engine and swung her around. He pushed the aircraft up to standard taxi speed and swung onto the runway dead center. If he was going to die, he would do it with dignity.

  Full power. The aircraft accelerated more quickly than usual. Tail up and off. The bird wanted to fly. It was hopping on its wheels slightly. It had never done that before.