Flying Too Close to the Sun

by George Jehn

  Standing there, the lights from the passing cars cast an attractive sheen over Erik, highlighting his European features, clear complexion and bright eyes infused with the deep green hue of shallow Caribbean water. To Christina he was always attractive, but tonight, even more so due to the silky cloak of the warm summer night air. But recalling what happened last time made her cast these thoughts aside.

  As if reading her mind, Erik spoke. “After our pictures were in the newspapers, my girlfriend wondered if there was anything between us.”

  “I already have a boyfriend.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “No one at the airline does, but now you do. His name is David Bennedeto, a Shuttle Air baggage slammer and studying at NYU. That’s how I met Juni. He’s his uncle. But if you should ever meet or speak with David, don’t mention his uncle’s name.”

  “Are you and David living together?”

  “Yeah. But also keep this tidbit to yourself. I don’t want anyone at work to know. I learned a long time ago not to advertise my private life and recommend the same to you. Most pilots are like washwomen because flying is mostly tedium and everything gets discussed.”

  “Will you be all right driving home alone?” he asked, intentionally changing the subject.

  “Perhaps you could follow me. It is late and I’ve heard some sections of Brooklyn aren’t the safest.”

  . . .

  Approximately thirty-five minutes later they pulled to a halt in front of her place and she walked over to Erik’s window.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Erik summoned the courage to get out and mumbled, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “Okay, but only as far as the front door.” She unlocked the double security locks and stepped inside the darkened house while Erik waited on the stoop. She went to the bedroom and stuck her head inside. Returning, she said, “Everything’s fine.”

  Erik stepped inside without an invite, but she immediately grabbed his arm, which felt much thinner to her than David’s and quickly led him outside. “Thanks. I’ll see you at work,” she sarcastically added with a forced smile, “and, no more roses.”

  Embarrassed, he said nothing. Just then a car wheeled into the driveway and a big guy dressed in a tight-fitting, muscleman top and equally tight jeans with wavy hair exited. Ignoring Erik, he went to Christina and gave her a smooch. She said, “I want to introduce you to the second officer I’m flying with. David, this is Erik Preis. Erik, this is David Bennedeto.”

  The two men shook hands and David’s mitt felt huge.

  “How long you been with Shuttle Air?” David asked.

  “Only a few months.” To play dumb Erik asked, “You a pilot?”

  “Nah. I just date the pretty ones.” He pulled Christina closer. “I work at the airline and study acting.”

  “You’ve got excellent taste in women,” Erik awkwardly replied, not knowing what else to say. “I gotta be going.” He quickly drove off.

  . . .

  As they stood outside and watched him leave, David said, “A little young for you, isn’t he? His mommy might be worried he’s not home yet.”

  She pushed him away. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You weren’t working this late, if you know what I mean?”

  “I don’t. Why don’t you be more specific, a lot more specific?”

  “What the hell was he doing here?”

  “We work together and went out to grab a bite. He’s the kid I told you helped during the emergency; the one the Chief Pilot is gunning for. Man, you are one jealous son-of-a-bitch. What are you trying to do trigger another seizure with all of your bullshit stress?”

  David felt the anger radiating from her like heat from an oven and put up both hands as if to stave it off. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I come home and you’re here with a good-looking, young guy and well…”

  “Well, what? Like he said, he’s brand new and I wanted to give him a few pointers.”

  David again took her in his arms. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching you.”

  Christina just glared at him.

  Erik now had a valid reason for not accepting Christina’s invitation the last time. They probably would have been caught, tonight. And that gorilla boyfriend definitely had a steroid look in his eyes.

  . . .

  Alone in his darkened den, Juni dialed his brother-in-law, Gene DiAndressi who owned a successful plumbing supply company. He needed expense money for this operation and would put the squeeze on him. The phone was picked up on the second ring.

  “Gene, it’s me.”

  DiAndressi just groaned, “For Christ’s sake Juni, it’s late.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  DiAndressi was dressed in his pajamas about ready to call it a night and this conversation was the last thing he wanted. “Look, Juni...”

  “I won’t keep you long.”

  “What do you want, like I don’t already know.”

  “I’m working on a deal and need to borrow some dough.”

  “You mean some more dough, don’t you? You still haven’t paid back the three thou I lent you last year, plus the other from...”

  “This isn’t for the business. It’s for somethin’ else.”

  “What’s it this time?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Oh no? Then maybe I’m not at liberty to give you another fuckin’ dime! How do you like that shit?” DiAndressi screamed into the phone.

  “Calm down. There’s zero risk for either of us and we stand to make a lot.”

  “What the hell’s this we shit? How can I be part of somethin’ you won’t even tell me about? What do you take me for, a moron?”

  “I gotta have it,” Juni begged, “or the deal will have to be scrapped.”

  Cooling down, Gene demanded, “How much?”

  “Only twenty-five hundred.”

  “Twenty-five hundred bucks!”

  “And you’re better off not knowin’ what it’s for,” Juni quickly added. “When this is complete and it’ll be a done deal soon, I’ll repay you seven thou.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re gonna reimburse me seven grand?”

  “Plus the original money I borrowed, with interest.”

  “This I gotta see.”

  “Does that mean you’ll loan it to me?”

  “Yes, if for no other reason then to keep you from calling again at this hour. Come by the office tomorrow afternoon and I’ll have it in fifties and hundreds.”

  “Thanks, Gene.”

  “Don’t give me this thanks Gene crap. If you weren’t my brother-in-law you’d never see a nickel of mine.”

  “I’ll be at your office tomorrow about three. ‘Night, Gene, and give my best to Diana.” Juni hung up and muttered, “I’d like to tell him to stuff the twenty-five hundred up his fat ass. There’s nothin’ worse than an uppity Eye-talian. Let him join one of those waspy country clubs and he’d find out pretty damn quick what those types think of a WOP who’s got some loose change.” Done grumbling, Juni felt better, as just about everything was in place and ready to launch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Saturday was Carol’s third flying lesson and Erik’s final one of the day. He phoned the evening before.

  “I was waiting for your call,” she cooed. “Don’t forget. We have some flying to do tomorrow.”

  “I didn’t forget. We’re scheduled for—”

  “Four
o’clock and I wouldn’t miss it.”

  The day dragged on until she entered the office dressed in tight jeans, white sneakers and a light fabric, flowered blouse. From their conversations Erik now detected a different spirit, perhaps a sense of street smarts not quite going along with the innocent way she normally carried herself. More like someone who was not afraid to get down in the dirt and fight. After flying together for an hour Erik told her with a knowing grin, “Let’s conduct our post-flight de-briefing at another location.”

  She drove behind him on the narrow, tree-lined Farmingdale streets replete with speed bumps Erik believed were put in place to keep the local mechanics in business, until he pulled into a bluestone driveway of a Colonial-style house.

  Although he knew every inch of it, stepping inside he still felt like an unwanted intruder, a house draped in sadness. She figured this was his parent’s place and noted the lovely roses and other flora growing alongside the split rail wooden fence. Erik unlocked the door and shouted greetings to the parents he knew weren’t there.

  Carol exclaimed, “I love it. It’s so old-world.” She walked around, gently stroking a few of the framed delicate needlepoint works. “These are exquisite,” she said, pointing to the needlepoint. “Who stitched them?”

  “My mother. She’s good at it.”

  “When will I meet her?”

  “I don’t know, maybe tonight?”

  “I’d also like to meet your father ‘cause—.”

  “I don’t want to discuss him,” a now-serious Erik growled.

  “Why not?”

  “That’s a very long story,” he replied with a scowl. These feelings began to fade as he led her upstairs by the hand. “Sorry for the heat,” he meekly whispered in his bedroom, “but my folks don’t believe in air conditioning.” He went to the window and flipped on the fan. The fan-made wind made its way into the room as the rhythmic puffs of breeze washed over their bodies.

  “I thought all the heat was from us? I love your room! Let me guess. You’re a pilot?” she joked, pointing to all the aviation paraphernalia adorning the shelves and walls. “And since there’s no a/c, how about letting me cool you off?”

  “Cool me off? Not!” Smiling, he raised his hands over his head and she tenderly peeled off his undershirt. Taking her in his arms, the hard edges caused by thoughts of his father evaporated, replaced by others so powerful they couldn’t coexist with anything else. It felt like a love genie popped out of Erik’s personal bottle after being locked up for over twenty years. He’d been alone for so long, but now all that changed.

  She tasted great as they kissed and her clothing quickly evaporated. As he inserted his middle finger into her warm wetness, with difficulty she tugged down his boxers. He felt her legs around him and her cheeks were flush with anticipation, their reddish tint making her seem even more appealing. Since there was no chance of their lovemaking being interrupted, they took their time, caressing and probing, hair, breast and thighs. Minutes felt like seconds and her knees felt weak as he gently entered her. She gave of herself in a way making it clear she was his. For the very first time Erik felt truly loved and appreciated, sheltered from everything bad, a strange and exotic locale he had never before visited. When he could no longer hold back, bathing in the sweet scents of sex and sweat, they both reached climax together. Totally immersed in each other, he remained inside her while he ran his fingers though her thick, disheveled hair. They drifted off into a dreamlike state, with not a single word uttered, yet so much passed between them. As they lay there together, each knew their world had changed. There was no going back as a powerful current held them tightly in its grip.

  Gazing at Erik’s sinewy body, Carol wondered how every woman could not see him in the same light as she. These thoughts were interrupted when they rolled out of bed onto the floor, giggling. They stood up and barefoot she barely came to his shoulders. He platonically kissed the top of her head and proceeded to take a shower. She quickly dressed and meandered throughout the house. There were no family photos, which she thought odd. She finally spotted one of Erik and a beautiful woman she took to be his mother. Both were smiling, but the smiles were those of people who have been told to do so, with lots of flashy teeth showing but without true happiness in the eyes. Rather, it was as if gloom found a place in his mother’s eyes.

  After hearing the water stop, Carol returned upstairs and slid her fingernails sensually over his dripping body, an action that made not only the hair on the nape of his neck stand up. “I’m ready for round two,” he said, pointing. After seriously considering that he added, “But my parents might return.” Trying to drag his corporeal thoughts away from her he mentioned, “I know this little Italian restaurant not too far from here. You think pasta and wine might force the lustful feelings aside?”

  “Or, have exactly the opposite effect. But let me call my folks first. Is it okay to use the phone?”

  He showed her where it was and whispered over her shoulder with a broad smile. “Hi, Mom, Erik and I just finished flying, er, making love and it was great!”

  She threw him a playful look and punched in the number. A second later her mother answered. “Hi, Mom, I finished my lesson and we’re going to grab a bite.”

  They took separate cars to the La Pizzetta restaurant where Erik suggested the linguini with red clam sauce. “Although this place isn’t fancy like Chez Nous, they make their own macaroni and use fresh clams.” They both ordered the same dish. The dinner conversation was conducted in high spirits as Erik related stories about some of his student pilots without mentioning them by name. They finished off the meal with homemade cheesecake more like home comfort. While sipping coffee, Carol asked, “What’s up with you and your old man? When I mentioned him, you were like a different person.”

  Erik didn’t want to plumb those deep waters. Could he even begin to convey about his mother cheating and his father’s reaction? “It’s gotta be the cultural differences,” he finally stammered. “My parents are from another country. My father doesn’t like the way I do things and makes my life miserable.” He’d probably divulge everything eventually, but needed more time.

  Very reluctant goodbye kisses were exchanged in the parking lot and Erik returned to a now-darkened house. He went directly to his bedroom and locked the door. The windows were wide open, but the oppressive air still wasn’t ready to surrender the day’s heat to the night’s coolness, even with the chugging fan. He removed his clothing and lay down, knowing there would never be air conditioning in this house. His father loved to quote the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” The old man repeated that over and over. Erik wanted to tell him Nietzsche eventually suffered a mental collapse, was institutionalized and died from syphilis, but never did, instead letting him live in his false world. While lying there he glanced at the blue and white aviation navigation charts he’d pinned to the walls seemingly eons ago, done so his imagination could fly off anywhere, anytime. Retracing the route he and Carol had flown, he found himself wishing she was still here with him.

  He also longed for his problems to be put behind him. But the inability to wish them away caused the dreaded anxiety to return. His mind and stomach churned as a fitful slumber finally came. But in his nightmare he wasn’t flying with Carol, but was on a bus with bars on the windows and headed to prison.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The game was about to begin and for now Juni was the only player and still wasn’t certain of the rules. Hopefully victory would follow, but right now the scoreboard read zero. Dispensing with the phony confidence he had displayed with his partners, after many thoughtful hours he had come up with a plan. He’d leave for Boston the following day and would lie low during the daytime, maybe take in a baseball game at Fenway Par
k, major league baseball’s oldest stadium. Nighttime would be different. He’d always felt more comfortable moving about under a shroud of darkness, a black slipstream where he could look out, but no one could see in. Although doubtful they’d be able to quickly pull off the job even though the tide would be favorable, and notwithstanding the weather might cooperate, there were still other items to accomplish like finding the right boat.

  Juni descended to a locked home basement closet and rechecked his gear: a hand-held compass, wet suit, diver’s gloves and booties, snorkel, small LCD flashlight, wire cutters, set of copper wires, latex gloves and a portable VOR radio. Christina explained pilots use the VOR to navigate by and it was essential. He loaded everything into the car, except for the borrowed money, a bag of smoked sausage and four loaves of Italian bread. He would depart the next afternoon for the approximate four-hour drive to East Boston. He told Angela he was leaving on an unspecified business trip and needed to use her car. The weather forecast for the following two days in New York and Boston was for partly cloudy skies with a chance of thunderstorms toward evening, with the four-day extended forecast calling for deteriorating conditions due to a stalled stationary warm weather front to the south. He drove to a pay phone and placed a call to area code 718—Brooklyn. It was picked up after a few rings. “Joey Martino. It’s Juni Rosario. How you been?”

  “Juni the Lid, you old fart. I ain’t seen ya in ages. I thought you croaked or somethin’. What’s happenin’?”

  Skipping the formalities, Juni told him, “I need somethin’ fast for an important deal,” silently praying Martino could deliver.

  “What you need?”