Wings

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Wings Page 12

by Danielle Steel


  She stayed on at Bradley for her sophomore year, and worked at the airport all through the winter. She helped out on several emergencies, flew with Nick whenever she could, and by spring she was an accepted member of the team at the airport. She flew everywhere, short runs, long, and of course she was practicing again for the summer air show. She went out to practice sometimes with Nick, and their time together reminded her of their years of lessons. But now they had time to talk at the airport, while they worked, and more than once, she joined him flying cargo or mail runs.

  She was still engaged to Bobby Strong, but his father had been sick all year, and he had more responsibilities at the store now. He seemed to be visiting Cassie less and less often. And she was so busy, sometimes she didn't even notice.

  Hitler occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia in March, and became more of a threat than ever. Once again, there was talk of war, and fear of an American involvement. Roosevelt continued to promise that it wouldn't happen this time. And Nick continued not to believe him.

  When Charles Lindbergh returned from Europe in the spring of 1939, he was the most outspoken champion of America staying out of the war. And Pat was glad to hear it. He believed whatever the famed aviator had to say. To Pat O'Malley, the name of Lindbergh was still sacred.

  “We don't belong in the next one, Nick. We learned our lesson in the last one.” Pat was adamant. He was sure the United States would never get pulled into another war in Europe. But there was already trouble between the Chinese and the Japanese. Mussolini had taken Albania. And Hitler seemed to be looking toward Poland.

  But all Cassie could think of by then was the summer air show. She was hard at work learning rolls and turns, and some new aerobatics she'd seen at a small airstrip in Ohio where she'd gone with Nick. She was working on her speed, and practicing whenever she could spare the time. By June, she had finished her sophomore year, and she thought she was ready for the air show.

  Bobby was annoyed about her participating in the air show again, but he had his own problems at the grocery store, and he had long since understood how impossible Cassie was about flying. They went to see the new Tarzan movie when it came out in June, and it was the only respite they shared as she prepared for the air show.

  Finally, at long last, the big day came, and Cassie was at the airstrip in Peoria with Nick at four o'clock in the morning. Her brother was coming in later with Pat, but he wasn't particularly enthused about flying in the show this year. He had been so excited about starting college at Western Illinois University at Macomb that he had hardly practiced. Pat was still pinning all his hopes on him, and despite Cassie's impressive wins the year before, he scarcely ever mentioned her entering the air show.

  Nick helped her fuel the plane and check everything, and at six o'clock he took her out for breakfast.

  “Relax,” he smiled at her, remembering how he himself had been the first time he'd flown in an exhibition show, after the war. Pat had gone with him and Oona had brought the kids to see him. Cassie had been there too of course, she was only two then. And remembering that suddenly made him feel old. The two had become so close since he had started teaching her to fly years before. They had developed a bond that they would never lose now. But the painful thing for him sometimes was forcing himself to remember that he was old enough to be her father. She was twenty now, and there were eighteen years between them. He still felt like a kid, and he looked far younger than his years, and Cassie accused him constantly of acting like a child. But the fact was, he was thirty-eight… and she was only twenty. He would have given anything to cut in half the difference between them. Not that she seemed to care. But he did. But then again, she was still the daughter of his closest friend, and nothing would ever change that. Pat would never have understood the bond or the closeness between them. Nick knew it was a hurdle they would never overcome, unlike her flying. Pat had gone that far, but he would go no further.

  Nick ordered her a plate of eggs, some sausages, a side of toast, and a cup of black coffee. But she waved it away as soon as it appeared at the table.

  “I can't, Nick. I'm not hungry.”

  “Eat it anyway. You'll need it later. I know what I'm talking about, kid. Otherwise, you're going to go weak in the knees when you're doing loops and negative G's out there. Be a good girl and eat it, or I'll have to force it down your throat, and the waitress might not understand it.” He looked at her in a way that said how much he cared, and she grinned up at him happily.

  “You're disgusting.”

  “You're cute. Especially when you take first prize. I like that in a girl. In fact, I'm kind of counting on you to do that.”

  “Be nice. Don't push. I'll do what I can.” But she wanted to win first prize too, maybe even several of them. For him, for herself, and more importantly, to impress her father.

  “He loves you anyway, you know. He just can't stand admitting he was wrong. But he knows how good you are. I heard him tell a bunch of guys at the airport last week. He just doesn't want to tell you, that's all.” Nick understood him better than Cass did. For all his gruff ways and seeming outrage over women fliers, her father was desperately proud of her, and just as embarrassed to show it.

  “Maybe if I stacked a bunch of prizes up today, he'd have to admit, finally, that I fly okay… to me, I mean, not just to a bunch of guys.” She still sounded angry when she talked about it sometimes. Her father was always bragging about Chris, who didn't even like to fly. It drove her crazy.

  “Would it really make that much difference to hear the words?” Nick asked her, eating fried eggs and steak with her. He wasn't going to be doing loops, but he had ordered himself a healthy breakfast.

  “Maybe. I'd like to hear them just for the hell of it. Just to see how it feels.”

  “And then what?”

  “I go back to flying for you, and him, and myself, no big deal, I guess.”

  “And you finish college and become a teacher.” He liked to say the words, but they both knew that she didn't believe that.

  “I'd rather teach flying like you,” she said honestly, taking a sip of hot coffee.

  “Yeah, and fly mail runs. That's a great life for a college girl”

  “Don't be so impressed. I haven't learned a thing, except from you.” And she meant it. But they were interrupted before he could deflect her praise, by a group of young men who had just finished breakfast. They seemed to hesitate somewhere near their table, circling like young birds, glancing at Nick and eyeing Cassie.

  “You know those guys?” Nick asked in an undervoice, and she shook her head. She had never seen them, and then finally one of them approached Cassie's table. He looked down at her, and then at Nick, and he looked suddenly very young as he got up the nerve to address them.

  “Are you… Stick Calvin?” he asked hesitantly, and then he glanced at her, “And Cassie O'Malley?”

  “I am,” she answered before Nick did.

  “I'm Billy Nolan. I'm from California… we're flying in the air show. I saw you there last year,” he blushed furiously, “you were terrific.” He looked about fourteen and Nick almost groaned. He was actually twenty-four, but he didn't look it. He was blond and young, his hair stood up in a cowlick like a kid's, and his face was covered with freckles. “My dad knew who you were,” he said to Nick. “He flew in the 94th with you, he got shot down. You probably don't remember him… Tommy Nolan.”

  “Oh, my God,” Nick grinned as he stuck out his hand, and invited Billy to sit down with them. “How is he?”

  “Pretty good. He's had a bad limp since the war, but it doesn't seem to bother him much. We have a shoe store in San Francisco.”

  “Good for him. Does he fly anymore?” Nick remembered him well, and the funny thing was that Billy looked just like him.

  But Billy said he hadn't flown in years, and he was none too thrilled that Billy had caught the bug from him. His friends were standing watching him then, and Billy beckoned them over. There were four of them, all about h
is age, and all from various parts of California. For the most part, they looked like cowboys.

  “Which races are you in?” they asked Cass, and she told them. Speed, aerobatics, and a number of others, which Nick thought was a little ambitious. But it meant so much to her, and she loved being in the air show so much, he hadn't wanted to dampen her spirits. She had waited a long time for this, and she really enjoyed it.

  Billy introduced them to everyone, they were a nice bunch of guys, and for the second time that morning, Nick Calvin felt ancient. Most of the boys were fifteen years younger than he was. They were all closer to Cassie's age, and by the time they all left the restaurant, everyone was laughing and chatting, and talking about the air show. They were like a bunch of kids, going to the school fair, and having a great time.

  “I ought to let you kids go play,” Nick grinned at them, “but then again maybe Cassie might forget to fly. Maybe I'd better stick around to sec that you all behave and remember the air show.” They all laughed at him, and most of them had a thousand questions about the 94th and the war, and the Germans he had shot down before it ended. “Hey, hold on a minute, guys… one at a time,” and he told them another story. They treated him like a hero, and they were all in high spirits when they got to the fairground. This was what flying was all about, the camaraderie, and the fun, and the people you met at times like this, the experiences you shared. It wasn't just about the long flights and the solitude, and the sky at night when you felt as though you owned the world. It was all of those things, the highs and the lows, the terror and the peace of it, the incredible contrasts.

  They wished Cassie luck, and went off to check their plane. They were all taking turns flying it, and they were enrolled in different events. But only Billy was going to be flying against Cassie.

  “He's nice,” she said easily, once they were gone, and Nick glanced at her over his shoulder.

  “Don't forget you're engaged,” he said politely, and she laughed at the pious look on his face, which was very unlike him. Most of the time he had no interest at all in Bobby Strong, or her fidelity to him.

  “Oh for heaven's sake. I just meant he was ‘nice,’ you know, as someone to talk to. I wasn't planning to run off with him.” She was fueling the plane, and wondered suddenly if Nick could be jealous. It was a ridiculous idea, and she brushed it off as soon as she thought it.

  “You could run off with him, you know,” he persisted. “He's the right age. And at least he flies. That might be refreshing,” he said innocently.

  “Are you finding guys for me now?” She looked amused. “I didn't know that was part of the service you provided,” she said calmly.

  ‘The service I will provide will be to chain you to the ground if you don't prepare your plane right. Don't fool around, Cass. You're going to be putting a lot of stress on the plane, and yourself. Ray attention.”

  “Yes, sir.” The games were over now, but for a fraction of an instant, she could have swom that he was jealous, although he certainly had no reason to be. She was engaged to someone else, and they were just friends, and always had been. She wondered if it annoyed him to see her making friends with other pilots. He was very proud of all she'd done, and maybe that was what had been bothering him. It was hard to tell as he helped her check the plane. And then a few minutes later they saw her father and her brother. It was nearly eight o'clock by then. And the races started at nine. Although her first event wasn't until nine-thirty.

  “All set, Cass?” her father asked nervously. “Did you check everything?”

  “I did,” she said defensively. Didn't he think she was capable of doing it? And if he cared so much, why hadn't he come out to help her, instead of Chris? He could have been attentive to both of them, but he wasn't. All his concern was for Chris, who looked more than anything as though he wished he didn't have to be there. He was in only one event this year, and Cassie hoped for his sake that he'd win it.

  “Good luck,” her father said quietly, and then left her to join Chris across the airfield.

  “Why does he bother?” she muttered as he walked away, and Nick answered gently.

  “Because he loves you, and he doesn't know how to say it.”

  “He has an odd way of showing it sometimes.”

  “Yeah? Maybe it's because you kept him up all night when you were born. Maybe you deserve it.” She grinned at the answer he gave her. Nick always made her feel better about everything, and it was comforting to know that he'd always been there.

  She saw Billy Nolan and the boys again before her first event. They were hooting and laughing and raising hell. It was hard to believe they were serious, but they had entered all the toughest races.

  “I hope they know what they're doing,” Nick said quietly. They looked like a bunch of kids, but it was hard to tell sometimes. He had known some real aces who had looked like cowboys. But no one wanted to watch a tragedy, and that usually happened when people overestimated their skill, or didn't know their planes’ limits.

  “They must be okay,” Cassie said confidently, “they qualified.”

  “So did you,” he teased, “what does that mean?”

  “Jerk…” she laughed at him, and half an hour later she was on her way. It was almost her turn. There had already been some pretty impressive stunts in the air, some great gasps, a few screams. It was all in a day's work at the air show.

  “Give 'em hell!” Nick called as he left her and she taxied off down the short runway in the Moth for the aerobatic event. And for the first time in years, he found himself praying. He hadn't been nearly as nervous for her last year, but this year he was afraid she might push too hard, just to prove something to him, or her father. She wanted to win more than anything, and he knew it.

  She began with a few slow loops, then a double, and a barrel roll. She went through the whole repertoire backward and forward, including a Cuban eight, and a falling leaf, and as he watched her, each exercise was completed to perfection, and then she did a triple, and a dive, and somewhere near him a woman screamed, not realizing that in an instant, Cassie would recover… and of course she did. Perfectly. It was the most beautiful demonstration he had ever seen, and she finished it off with an outside loop, which delighted everyone. And Nick was beaming at her when she landed.

  “Not bad for a start, Cass. Pretty clean.” His eyes shone right into hers as he praised her.

  “That's all?” Her excitement and adrenaline turned instantly to disappointment, but he gave her a tight hug and told her she'd been terrific. “You were the best,” he said honestly, and half an hour later, the judges confirmed it. Her father congratulated her politely when their paths crossed. But his praise was more for Nick than for Cassie. He was proud of her. But it still irked him that she was showing up the men with her flying.

  “You must have had a very good teacher.”

  “I had a very good student,” Nick corrected him, and the two men smiled, but her father said nothing more to Cassie.

  Chris's race was next, and he tried hard, but he lost. He didn't even place this time, and the truth was he didn't really care anymore. For him, his flying days were over. He was much more interested in his classes at school, and all things separate from planes and airports. He just didn't have the bug, and the only thing he hated about it was disappointing his father.

  “I'm sorry, Dad,” he apologized after he parked the plane. “I guess I should have practiced more.” He'd been flying Nick's beefed-up Bellanca, which Cassie was going to fly too.

  “Yes, you should have, son,” Pat said sadly. He hated to see him lose when, with a little effort, he could have been a great flier, or so Pat thought. But Pat was the only one who thought of Chris that way. Everyone else knew the truth, even Chris, that he just wasn't a flier. But Cassie congratulated him anyway.

  “Good job, baby brother. That was a pretty piece of flying.”

  “Not pretty enough apparently,” he grinned at her, and then congratulated her for taking first prize in the pr
evious event.

  And a few minutes later she saw one of Billy Nolan's friends take second place. He had done some very fine flying.

  Cassie's next race was at ten o'clock and it was more difficult this time. It involved speed, and she was worried that the Vega couldn't do it. It was fast, but some of the racing planes were faster.

  “She'll do it if you play her right,” Nick promised as he talked to Cassie right before takeoff. The Vega was a great plane and Cassie flew it well. Nick knew that for this race it was better than the Bellanca. “Just keep cool, Cass. Don't let it scare you.” She nodded and said not a word as she taxied off, and a moment later she was in the air, and flying remarkably. Nick had never seen anyone more precise or faster, and she managed some extraordinarily complicated maneuvers. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and he noticed that Pat was watching her intently too. And so was a tall blond man in a blazer and white trousers. He was watching her very carefully through binoculars, and talking to a man who was taking notes. He was out of place and Nick figured he was probably from one of the Chicago papers.

  Cassie won second prize that time, but only because she hadn't had a faster plane. She had overcome every handicap the Vega had, and Nick still couldn't believe it. He had never expected her to win that race, and she had placed handsomely. When she was down again, Billy came over and congratulated her. He had won third against her. They were a great bunch of fliers, and Nick liked what he had just seen of Billy. He was careful and sure, and he had won in spite of an inferior plane. Like Cass, he had pushed it to the limit.

 

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