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Authors: Clayton Taylor

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The sage advice given to him years earlier by an aging aviator convinced Charles that he would give John one more chance, but only one.

Twenty One

R
eturning from one of the forward lavs, Marie Myers approached her assigned row with a new lease on life. She eased into her seat and smiled brightly at her husband. She was off the hook.

Dirk took her hand and held it tightly. He had his wife back and that’s all he cared about. He hoped his wife hadn’t forgotten about the two of them going into the restroom together, but in the meantime, he decided that he had gone long enough without the taste of her lips. He kissed her deeply and then asked, “Do you still want to go into the restroom with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said. “But I just sat down. Let’s give it a few minutes so people don’t get suspicious.”

Dirk knew it would be the longest ten minutes of his life.

*

“What’s the matter, Lars? You look like you just saw a puppy get run over by a car,” asked Ed Vito as he rolled back the curtain on his bunk.

“What are you doing up, Ed? Are you having trouble sleeping?” asked Lars.

“I can sleep all right, but my bladder is telling me that it wants to work. So who am I to argue? But since I’m up, can I do anything to help?” asked Ed.

“I’m angry with myself for practically killing us all,” said Lars. “And I’m worried I might get fired.”

“Lars, I’ve flown with a lot of Pan Am captains over the years and I have seen it all,” said Ed. “Some are tyrants, some are fools and some are brilliant, but I’ve never flown with one who didn’t start out at the bottom. Everyone messes up and Charles knows that. Sure, that was one heck of a screw-up, there’s no doubt about it, but give the captain a little credit. I think he’s going to yell and scream and then forget about it. You, however, should never forget about it.”

“I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt because of my stupidity,” said Lars.

As he climbed out of the bunk, Ed replied, “Those there are words to live by, my friend. But don’t ever let this stuff cause you to lose your nerve or self-confidence.” To himself, he murmured, “Because it’s hard as hell to get it back.”

*

If Mark Small knew they were passing over the tiny town of Tiree, located on a small island off the northwest coast of Scotland, it wouldn’t have much mattered. All that did matter was that they were over land: terra firma. He could hardly contain his enthusiasm. The five-foot-seven, one hundred and forty pound man from upstate New York, felt practically giddy.

Mark could see that the stewardesses were starting their breakfast service and the nervous flyer, no longer concerned with his imminent death, suddenly felt the pangs of hunger. It had been a long flight indeed--one that he preferred never to repeat. For the first time in many hours, Mark allowed all thoughts of automobiles and their engines to exit his mind. He began to think about Sue Gruber. Since their harrowing departure from Iceland, the two smiled and flirted like a couple of school children whenever Sue’s workload permitted. He’d managed to get her phone number and had already arranged a first date for when they were both back in New York.

Landing a date with such a gorgeous woman left Mark feeling perplexed. After all, he was just an auto mechanic: a grease monkey. And from what he’d seen so far, Sue was smarter, better looking and more articulate than he could ever hope to be. Mark knew she was light years out of his league. What the young stewardess saw in him he did not know, but he was bound and determined to do whatever it took to make her happy. He’d already begun thinking about a new career.

Though busy doting over her passengers, Sue flashed her new love interest a bright smile that instantly caused Mark Small’s heart to melt. It was an almost magical power that she enjoyed immensely, using it to her benefit whenever it suited her.

Mark smiled back. He could practically feel his self-confidence flowing through his veins. With his battery fully charged, Mark decided to put his concerns about Sue’s questionable taste in men aside and think about his mom. He hoped he’d get to see her again before it was too late. Yes, it was clearly time for him to worry about something else.

*

During the time Ed stood in the lav relieving himself, he could hear banging and muffled moans mixed with words in the adjacent lav. When he stood over the sink washing his hands, he momentarily thought the small mirror attached to the wall was going to fall to the floor due to all the commotion next door. Ed exited the lav and rapped lightly on the door of the neighboring room. “Is everything all right in there?’ Do you need any help?” he asked.

“No we’re…um, I’m fine. Everything is OK,” responded Dirk Myers.

In addition to the male voice, Ed could hear a woman softly giggling. Instantly he knew what was taking place on the other side of the door. He turned and walked away smiling, saying in a barely audible tone, “At least somebody is enjoying the ride. Yup, it’s just another satisfied Pan Am customer. Or, shall I say, customers.”

The DC6 had six sleeping berths installed in first class. There were three per side, in the same location where a luggage bin would be found on a modern airliner. Equipped with a privacy curtain, premium customers were asked to pay an additional fifteen dollars to use the completely horizontal beds.

As Ed made his way through first class, he mused to himself that the couple in the aft lav might be more comfortable in a berth.

Though the navigator may have been amused by the goings-on in the first class lav, the almost feral noises emanating from it caused a few first class passenger heads to turn. The males within earshot smiled and nodded with slight enthusiasm, while the females pretended to be embarrassed and disgusted. On the inside, however, each of the aging females wished that they too could be enjoying the passion and excitement of the young newlyweds. In both cases, the memory of the moment would most certainly provide fuel for future fires.

Sue and Liesel were busy serving breakfast, while Kelly worked in the galley preparing the meals. Sue had half a mind to knock on the door and inform the two lovers that they were making a spectacle of themselves, but Liesel put a stop to it.

“Let them alone, Sue,” said Liesel. “Admit it, don’t you wish you were in there experiencing all of that passion and lust?”

“Of course, but it’s embarrassing for the rest of us,” said Sue.

“You Americans are so inhibited when it comes to sex. It doesn’t have to be that way. It’s a wonderful, natural thing and you people always want to make it dirty; something that must remain behind closed doors,” observed Liesel.

“It should be!” snapped Sue. “You Europeans are much too willing to fling off your clothes. I swear, a sunny day is reason enough.”

“Yes, a sunny day would be a good enough reason,” said Liesel with a smile.

Liesel’s reply instantly summoned laughter from her colleague. “Yes, perhaps you’re right. Maybe if it’s sunny when we land, I’ll unbutton my blouse and walk down the aisle of the airplane,” joked Sue.

Liesel laughed. “I think I could get away with that, Sue. But if you unleashed those two fine fellows here, we would have to call an ambulance for practically every man on board. And that nervous flyer you’ve been making eyes with would probably wet his pants.”

“Goodness, I didn’t think you noticed,” said Sue.

“Yeah, sure, Sue,” said Liesel, nodding her head with a playful smirk.

The two continued their work with smiles and giggles. Kelly, not aware of the lavatory antics, asked the two why they seemed so happy, but neither would say.

The rowdy behavior in aft lav number one, the same lav Sonny’s body tumbled out of earlier, continued for far longer than anyone on board would have possibly expected. It left some of the passengers, those who had heard it all from start to finish, feeling totally spent.

*

Ed bumped into Lars as he was exiting the cockpit for a short bathroom break.

“Ed, would you watch my station for a few minutes?” asked Lars. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure thing,” replied Ed.

With Lars out of the cockpit, Ed said, “Captain, Lars is worried about being turned in for being a dunderhead. I fear it may affect his performance. I think he’s a good kid that just did something stupid. Anyway, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I thought you should know.”

Captain Pratt turned toward his navigator and said, “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll let him stew for a while. I want him to think about his actions. But before I let him off the hook, he should expect an earful. I think it would be best if I handle this situation one-on-one during our layover. Thank you for your concern, Ed. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on him.”

Ed returned to his bunk awaiting Lars’s return. He kicked off his shoes, hoping the engineer would be quick. When he noticed the cockpit door ease open, Ed waved the younger man over.

“Lars,” said Ed in a whisper. “I spoke to Charles. Everything will be all right.”

“Really? Wow! Thanks, Ed. Thanks a lot,” said Lars.

Without another word, Ed unfurled the privacy curtain and ended the conversation. The moment the tired navigator’s head hit the pillow, he heard Lars say, “Thanks, Ed. I owe you for this one.” Ed didn’t respond, but he was thinking,
You certainly do, Lars. You certainly do.

None of the five men present in the cockpit could fully understand where they stood in the fabric of each other’s lives. Brought together by a culmination of events that took place many miles from where they currently found themselves, the men of the air could not possibly escape the weaver’s toil. Thrust together on Pan Am flight forty-two, they worked together toward a common goal, having no idea if and when their paths might again cross, or what that meeting might bring. Only time would tell. But most immediately, the men still had to find London and get their DC6 on the ground safely, and that was anything but a foregone conclusion.

Twenty Two

J
ohn managed to steal a brief bathroom break prior to their descent into London. He’d told Charles that he needed to use the restroom, but in reality he just wanted to see Liesel again. Perhaps it was the events on board his worst flight ever that made him crave Liesel, but most likely it was because John had fallen deeply in love and found that he could not stand being separated from her. Though she hadn’t said it in words, he believed Liesel felt the same. He simply had to find out. He had to know for sure.

“I see you’re busy, Liesel. But don’t fret, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to come back and say hello,” said John.

“I am a little busy, but not so much so that I can’t spend a minute with a handsome pilot,” said Liesel, noting how forward and confident her pursuer had become since the beginning of their flight together. The shy and reserved John Tacker had come out of his shell and she liked what she saw.

“Are we still on for later?” he asked.

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, Mr. Tacker.”

A few seconds passed in silence while they studied each other with longing eyes. In some small way the ruckus in the aft lav helped to encourage Liesel’s need to get to know John a little better. But regardless of her suddenly active hormones, she knew inside that her interest was moving far beyond the physical.

John took Liesel’s hand. He’d planned to say something, but found he was content to simply look into her eyes.

“Break it up, you two. We have work to do,” said Kelly.

“Oh, right. I should get back anyway,” said John. “I’ll see you later.”

“Until later,” said Liesel.

When John was only a few steps away, Kelly said, “I hope you don’t plan on breaking that man’s heart because it’s obvious that he is totally smitten with you. He seems to come apart at the seams at the mere sight of Liesel Vantall.”

“I know. Isn’t love grand?” said Liesel.

“It can be, I suppose. But I know you, Liesel. John is a nice man,” noted Kelly with a serious tone.

“Relax, Kelly, I’ll be gentle. I like him a lot, and I’d like to get to know him better.”

“Sure, Liesel. I’ve heard you say that before.”

“You know what I think? I think Sue was right. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up old and alone,” snapped Liesel.

What neither realized was that Liesel’s words would prove to be true. Kelly would remain a stewardess with Pan American Airways until its demise in December 1991, ceasing operations two weeks after her fifty-seventh birthday. After pouring herself into her job and giving the airline her best years, Kelly would spend the remainder of her life working menial jobs for minimum wage. Though she would retain her good looks and shapely figure throughout much of her life, she could never allow herself to play second fiddle--a trait that so often sent her beaus running for the door. Whenever Kelly found herself alone, she would declare that she didn’t care what anyone thought, but it was always a lie.

Kelly would indeed spend her life seeing the world, surrounded by many acquaintances along the way, but she would never escape the abject loneliness. Her secret hatred of the constant solidarity, coupled with her uncompromising need to always be in the driver’s seat, would ultimately conspire to shorten her life.

After leaving Kelly behind, Liesel caught up with Sue halfway through the cabin, “We’re going to start down soon. Do you want to break up the early honeymoon in the aft lav or shall I?” asked Liesel.

“I simply cannot believe that that young man has gone on this long!” said Sue. “As soon as I feel the pilots push the nose down for descent, I’ll go back there and break it up. I want to see for myself what that guy is made of.”

For the first time during his entire aerial journey, Mark Small felt confident enough in the flight’s successful conclusion to stand up and go to the bathroom. He waited for the proper moment, pre-planned his route, then walked briskly down the aisle and bumped into Sue: right on schedule. “Oh, excuse me,” he said.

“The pleasure was all mine.”

“I was just on my way to the bathroom,” confessed Mark.

“Is that so?” she asked coyly.

“Yes it is,” he said. “But if you have a minute…” he added, allowing his words to hang in the air.

“I have however long you’d like.”

“I know I told you that I was an automobile mechanic, and a darn good one, but I’ve been thinking lately about making a change.”

“Why would you do that if you already like what you do?” asked Sue.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s time. Do you have any suggestions? I mean, what do you think the future Mr. Small ought to be doing for a living?” he asked, hoping his probing raid wasn’t too obvious.

Of course, Sue was light years ahead of Mark by most any measure, except perhaps in auto mechanics. She instantly saw right through his made-up conversation. “I think the future Mr. Small will be a pilot.”

“Really? A pilot? Gee…” he asked, before staring off into space. It was clearly not the response he’d expected.

“Yes,” she said. “I can’t be with a man who harbors foolish fears. You clearly suffer from acute anxiety when you fly. I think you ought to confront that by getting a pilot’s license. If you don’t like it, then you can try something else.” As she spoke, there was a tiny amount of resentment and anger present in her voice. It was a cloaked observation about the fact that men can do whatever they please with their lives, while women remain confined by intangible shackles and invisible ceilings.

Mark would likely have picked up on the vibe, but was much too enthralled with Sue’s suggestion. “Yes,” he said, “maybe you have something there.”

“Oh, I have something all right,” she stated with obvious levity, as well as some aggravation interlaced covertly among the words.

But Sue’s clever intellect was wasted on the mentally-preoccupied Mark Small. “Uh, well, I know you’re busy, so I’ll let you get back to work,” he said, before turning toward his seat. With the thought of piloting airplanes having been suddenly thrust into his mind, he’d completely forgotten about his bathroom needs.

Sue watched Mark leave with mild amusement. She laughed to herself, wondering if her newest friend was to become yet another man she would lose to a flying machine. Her contemplation of those matters ceased instantly the moment she realized that the complimentary first class entertainment had ended.

Marie and Dirk Myers finally departed the aft lav for their seats. Marie led the way, walking softly and with a meek expression. Dirk trailed behind with a smile of conquest on his face. One man sitting in first class patted Dirk’s back as he passed. Dirk turned and the two exchanged a knowing nod.

Within minutes of finding his seat, Dirk was fast asleep.

Marie stared at her husband, watching his shallow breathing. All was right with the world. And her life was once again her own.

What Marie didn’t realize was that in one year’s time she would give birth to a baby boy. Then, as time passes, little bits and pieces of what happened on board the Clipper Seven Seas will begin to leak into her conscious mind. Then, as even more time slips by, she will begin to believe that the little boy resembles Sonny, the man she’d killed. Though not possible, her mind will eventually convince her that the boy actually is Sonny. Then, much like in Edgar Allan Poe’s,
Tell-Tale Heart
, t
he
secrets she’d locked away will slowly begin to unravel her psyche.

Her husband will, over time, rise to the position of partner in his law firm and will be forced to have Marie committed. Dirk and his son, Samuel, will then be compelled to watch in horror as the woman they love slides ever deeper into complete madness.

*

“I’m glad you’re back, John,” said Charles. “Go ahead and get the Heathrow weather. Something in my bones is telling me that we might have to hold this morning.”

John tuned his radio and called ahead for the London weather. He wrote down what the man said and then pulled out a small conversion table. Since many countries around the world use the metric system, including both Iceland and Great Britain, John had to consult a chart to convert the millibars he’d been provided into inches of mercury. The mathematically-derived number would then be used by the crew to set their cockpit altimeters. It isn’t a difficult thing to do, he’d done it many times before, including on their descent into Keflavik. Except this time, John, preoccupied with the smell of Liesel’s perfume, wrote down the wrong number.

BOOK: Sojourners of the Sky
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