Francis looked unhappy as he approached the two, and Grace said, “You didn’t find out anything, did you?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, what is it?” she asked impatiently, standing to her feet along with Kevin.
“I found a place you can get lessons,” he told Kevin. “But it’s pretty far away. There’s a flying school in Baton Rouge that was owned by a guy I used to know.”
“Did you talk to them?” Kevin asked eagerly.
Francis scratched his head. “It’s a catch-as-catch-can outfit. Not fancy, you understand.”
“That doesn’t matter as long they can teach me to fly.”
“You know the owner?” Grace asked.
“I used to be good friends with the original owner, but he died a few years ago. Flying lessons are going to cost more money than I’ve got.”
“I spent most of my money on that motorcycle,” Kevin said.
“We may have to sell it,” Francis suggested.
“No we won’t,” Grace said firmly. “I’ll get a job.”
“Doing what?” Francis demanded.
“Waitressing. I can do that. I’ve done it before.”
“I expect we’ll all have to work.” Francis sighed.
“So who owns the school now? Do you know him too?” Grace asked.
“It’s not a him. It’s a her.”
“A woman owns a flying school?”
“It was her dad who died, and she inherited it.”
“What’s her name?”
“Babe Delaney.”
Something about the way Francis pronounced the name caught Grace’s attention, and she smiled slightly. “Babe, huh? Tell us more about her.”
“Well, we were pretty good friends at one time,” Francis said guardedly.
When both Kevin and Grace saw that there was more to Babe Delaney than Francis was willing to admit, Kevin said, “I hate to make you go there, Francis. You go on home and work on your novel.”
“No, actually, half of my book is set in New Orleans. I was going to go there sometime for background anyway.”
“What are we waitin’ for? Let’s go, then,” Grace said.
“Let’s get a good night’s sleep first,” Francis said in his pragmatic way, “and in the morning we’ll head out. It’s Louisiana or bust!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Babe
Francis became the bookkeeper for the trio and announced that they would no longer spend any money on vain things.
“What do you mean by ‘vain things’?” Grace demanded.
“I mean like motel rooms.”
“Where we going to sleep, then?” Kevin asked.
“We’ll camp out.”
“But we don’t have any camping gear,” he pointed out.
“We’ll stop somewhere and get some blankets. It’s warm enough we won’t need but one apiece, and we can probably use them in Baton Rouge too—in case we have to sleep out in a swamp.”
“I’m not sleepin’ in any swamp,” Grace moaned. “I was there once for a week with a carny, and I went out to one of them swamps. Saw an alligator big enough to swallow me whole! And the mosquitoes weren’t much smaller. No campin’ in a swamp for me.”
“I was just kidding,” Francis remarked, “but we do have to conserve whatever money we have left.”
“I’ll bet you can sweet-talk your old flame, Babe, and she’ll give us a discount on flyin’ lessons.” Grace had figured out that Francis and Babe Delaney had been an item at one time. She was anxious to see the woman, wondering what sort of female Key was attracted to.
Kevin drove the truck, and they headed steadily south, stopping late that afternoon in a small town, where they went into a dry goods store to buy blankets.
“After we get blankets,” Francis said, “let’s go across the street to that grocery store and get something for supper.”
“I’ll go with you,” Grace said. “I might not like what you pick out.”
They went into the grocery store, and Francis had to say no to most of Grace’s ideas, which were too expensive. They wound up getting hot dogs and buns and soft drinks. Grace insisted on getting three Baby Ruth candy bars, and Key paid for it all, counting out the money carefully.
They drove another half hour, and Key said, “There’s a pretty likely looking spot to camp over there behind those trees.”
“There’s a creek running along it,” Kevin said, pulling the truck off the road and parking behind the trees.
Francis stooped down to take a sip of water from the creek. “It tastes pretty fresh.”
“I’ll see if I can find some dry wood,” Kevin offered.
An hour later it was dark, and Kevin had built a cheerful fire. The sky overhead was spangled with stars, and the moon was a perfect silver circle.
Key cut some small saplings with his pocketknife and sharpened them to a point, handing one each to Kevin and Grace. “Everybody’s his own cook tonight.”
Soon they were seated around the fire roasting the hot dogs. “I haven’t done this since I was twelve years old,” Kevin said with a laugh. “We used to go out and roast wieners and marshmallows pretty often—Brian and Paige and I.”
“I can’t imagine Paige sitting on a log or the grass with a dirty face roasting a hot dog,” Grace said.
“She was different when she was younger. So was Brian.”
“I guess we all were,” Francis said. He suddenly reached over and grabbed Grace’s stick. “You’re burning that wiener! Don’t stick it right in the fire. Just hold it above the flames until it forms little blisters.”
“You’re always bossing me around,” Grace snapped. “I guess I can roast a hot dog as good as you can.”
It turned out, however, that hers was crispy black. Francis shook his head and handed her his. “Here, eat this one. I’ll fix myself another one.”
“Um-mm. I wonder why things taste better outdoors,” Grace said through a mouthful of hot dog.
“I don’t know that they do,” Francis said. “I’d rather be sitting inside at a cloth-covered table eating a T-bone steak.”
Kevin was already putting down his third hot dog. “I think Grace is right,” he said. “Things do taste better outdoors. My dad likes to barbecue a lot at our house. I made a barbecue pit out of a huge barrel. I believe we could cook a whole pig on that thing.”
They sat talking until the hot dogs were gone, and then Grace said, “Now for dessert.” She reached for the sack containing the Baby Ruth bars, but Kevin said, “Not yet.” He turned his back and worked busily for a moment.
“What are you doing?” Grace demanded.
Kevin turned around and presented a large cookie to Grace with a candle in the middle of it. “I know I’m a day late, but happy birthday, sis,” he said. “Come on, Francis, we’ll sing to her.” He began singing “Happy Birthday,” and Key joined in.
Grace held the cookie with the candle while the two men sang. When the song was finished, Kevin kissed her on the cheek. “Happy birthday, sis.” Francis reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Happy birthday, Grace.”
Grace felt something swell in her throat and had to clear it before she said, “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
“Happy birthday, Grace!”
Grace jumped at the raucous screech and turned to the cage that Francis had placed on the ground. “Miriam, you’re a scream!” she exclaimed.
“Better make a wish and blow out your candle before it melts all over your cookie,” Kevin said with a grin. He watched as she did so and said, “What did you wish for?”
Grace broke off a piece of the cookie and pushed it between the bars for Miriam. The parrot grabbed it and gulped it down. “I wished that Babe would still be in love with ol’ Francis here.” She grinned mischievously at Key.
He blushed and snorted. “That was a long time ago.”
“Aw, that don’t matter.” She winked at Kevin and said, “I don’t know why, but women seem to like you.
That secretary of yours had eyes for you.”
“Don’t be silly!”
“And that redhead in the diner. Remember, Kev, how she fell all over him and ignored us?”
Francis said roughly, “Here, give me my part of that birthday cookie and lay off, would ya?”
Miriam burst into the conversation with “Be ye holy!”
Grace laughed shortly. “Okay, that’s enough, Miriam. I don’t need none of your preachin’!”
They sat around the fire until finally Kevin stretched and said, “I’m gonna turn in. Hope it doesn’t rain tonight.”
“I think I’ll just sit here by the fire for the night,” Grace said.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Francis said. “Nothing out here to hurt you.”
“I ain’t afraid!” Grace acted offended. “I just don’t wanna miss nothin’.”
Francis grinned. “Not much to miss—unless a skunk wanders into camp.”
Grace’s eyes grew large. “Do they do that?”
“Happened to me once, but that was a long way from here.”
The two sat by the fire while Kevin curled up in his blanket and slept. From time to time, Francis fed the fire with dead branches. Grace looked up at the sky. “All those stars are somethin’. I wish I knew their names.”
“You see the Little Dipper there?”
“Little Dipper? Where?”
“Right there.... Can you make out the shape of a square dipper? The star at the end of the handle is Polaris. It’s fifty times bigger than our sun!”
“Aw, you’re puttin’ me on, Francis!”
“No I’m not.”
“But it ain’t bright like the sun.”
“That’s because it’s three hundred light-years from earth.”
“Light-years? What’s that?”
“Light travels 186,000 miles in one second. A light-year is the distance light travels in a year.”
“How do you know all this stuff?”
“I read a lot.”
“But what good does it do you to know all that stuff about stars?”
Francis laughed. “What good does it do you to be ignorant about them?”
Grace rolled her eyes.
“I’m going to sleep.”
While Francis got comfortable, Grace sat thinking about what would happen when they got to Baton Rouge. Finally she drew her blanket around her and lay back, staring up at the stars. A smile touched her lips, and she thought, He may know a lot about stars, but he don’t know much about women.
****
By the time they pulled into Baton Rouge, all three of the travelers were glad the journey was over. They had slept outside three nights in a row and were feeling pretty grubby by now.
“I’m starvin’,” Grace said. “Let’s get a real meal where we can sit inside.”
“All right,” Kevin said. “I’ll stop at the next café.”
Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of a restaurant called Papa John’s Cajun Cooking. When they entered, they were taken by the enticing smells. “I don’t know what that is,” Grace exclaimed, “but I sure want some of it!”
They sat down at a table, and a lean man wearing blue pants and a white apron came over. He had olive skin, bright white teeth, and dark, liquid eyes. “What can I get for you folks? I hope you’re hungry.”
Kevin nodded. “I’ve never had Cajun before. Have you got a menu?”
The man motioned to a chalkboard on the wall with the day’s specials. “There—you can’t go wrong with any of those dishes.”
The three feasted on gumbo, jambalaya, and barbecued shrimp. Francis insisted that they count their money, but this turned out to be discouraging.
“Francis, I wish you hadn’t paid off all your debts with the money my dad paid you,” Kevin said.
“We can always sell the motorcycle,” Francis reminded them.
“No, we’re not selling that!” Grace argued. “Not yet anyway.” She smiled at Kevin and said, “It’s the best gift anyone ever gave me, and I’m not givin’ it up. Like I said, I can get a job. We’ll make out.”
She had a glint in her eye as she put her hand under Francis’s chin and turned his face toward her. He blinked with surprise, and she leaned forward and said, “Practice on me, Francis.”
“What do you mean ‘practice on you’?”
“I mean, give me some sweet talk like you’re gonna give Babe so she’ll give Kev free tuition.”
Francis jerked his chin away and slapped at her hand. “If you say one word in front of her—”
“Oh, I won’t. I’ll just let nature take its course.” She winked at Kevin. “True love will find a way.”
“How poetic.” Kevin returned the wink.
“I saw that in a movie with Clark Gable and Jean Harlow. If all else fails, Francis, you can always spout poetry. I’m sure you know plenty of it!”
****
The Blue Sky Air Service did not impress the trio as they pulled up in front of what appeared to be an old hangar with a sign that said Office.
“Come on,” Grace said as they all got out of the truck and headed toward the building. “Now, remember, Francis—”
“You keep your mouth shut, Grace! I don’t want to hear one word out of you.”
“My, he’s been feeding on raw meat, hasn’t he, brother? All right. I won’t say a word.”
Francis opened the door to let Grace go first, and the two men followed. The low-ceilinged room they found themselves in was no more impressive than the outside of the structure. Two dirty windows admitted a little light, and a ceiling fan turned slowly over the desk. The wall was covered with pictures of planes and aviators, and the air was stale with smoke and gasoline. A table to the right held a coffeepot on top of a portable stove, and two battered filing cabinets stood side by side at the rear, flanking another door that apparently led out to the hangar.
A woman was sitting at the desk, and Grace examined her critically. She looked close to thirty with bright red hair and large green eyes. As she stood up, Grace noted she was tall and had a spectacular figure. She wore a pair of men’s trousers and a tight green shirt with several buttons open at the top. From her ears dangled what appeared to be diamond earrings, and a necklace with a single green stone hung down from her neck. Grace had been picturing Babe as rather homely, and she couldn’t help feeling dismayed at the impressive-looking woman.
“I can’t believe my eyes! Francis, I never thought you’d have the nerve to show up here!” Babe’s face looked flushed. “What do you want?”
Key felt the eyes of his two friends on him but ignored them. “I’m glad to see you too, Babe.”
The woman stared at him, then burst into laughter. “You’ve got the nerve of a brass monkey! Now, get outta here!”
“Wait a minute. I haven’t told you why I’m here.”
“I don’t care. I don’t need another dose of Francis Key.”
“Aw, come on, Babe. At least listen to me before you throw me out.” He turned and said, “These are my friends. This is Kevin Winslow and his sister Grace. This is one of my best friends, Barbara Delaney, but everybody calls her Babe.”
Francis noted Babe’s startled glance when she finally noticed Kevin’s scarred face.
“Glad to know you,” Babe said, recovering quickly. She studied Grace for a moment, as if making some sort of judgment, but said nothing of her assessment. “When I kicked you out,” she said to Francis, “I meant for you to stay out.”
Grace laughed. “Francis has been telling us how much you were in love with him, Babe, but I guess the fire has gone out.”
“Will you shut your mouth!” Francis said furiously, his face flaming. He turned back to Babe and said, “Look, this is truly business. Kevin here wants to learn how to fly.”
Babe’s eyes narrowed and she looked at Kevin. “Have you had any experience?”
“Not a bit, but I’d love to learn.”
“You think you can crowd him into your
full schedule?” Grace grinned sardonically.
Babe did not smile. “I run a business here. If you got the money, I can teach him to fly—if he can be taught.”
“Actually, that seems to be the problem, Babe,” Francis said boldly. “We’re a little short on cash.”
“How much have you got?” she demanded.
“The truth is, by the time we rent a place and buy a few groceries, we’ll be broke.”
Disgust swept across Babe’s face. “I’m not running a charity school here.”
Grace spoke up. “Come here a minute, will you? I wanna show you somethin’.” She walked to the door, and after a calculating look at Grace, Babe followed her out to the truck. “Look at that,” Grace said. “A brand-new Italian bike. You know what they’re worth?”
“Sure I know what they’re worth. You want to trade it in for his tuition?”
“No, I wanna give you the title to hold. I’m gonna get a job and so are those two. We’ll make your payments. Don’t worry ‘bout it. If we don’t, you can take the bike and sell it.”
Babe chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. “Sounds like a deal to me, but if you don’t keep up with your payments, I guarantee I’ll sell that bike right out from under your pretty little nose.” She lowered her eyes and deliberately took in every inch of Grace. “You his woman?”
“What do you care? You kicked him out, didn’t you? Come on, let’s get this down on paper.”
The two women went back inside, and Babe sat down at the desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out some papers. “Sit down, Winslow. You’re now a student at the Blue Sky Air Service. What makes you think you can fly?”
“I just know it, that’s all. And I love engines of all kinds. I have an awful lot of experience with car engines.... Say, you wouldn’t need any help around here, would you?”
“We are a little short staffed at the moment. Our mechanic quit just last week.”
“How about if I work for you and you can use my wages to help pay for my lessons?”
“Sounds like a good deal for all of us. Can you start right away?”
“You bet!”
As soon as they had finalized the financial arrangements, she said, “Come on. Let’s put you to work.”
The Virtuous Woman Page 17