Beyond the Horizon

by Ella Carey

  She stood and looked at the grave in silence. She was sure that Meg would have flown right alongside Eva and Nina for their country if she could. They’d shared a passion for airplanes, she, Meg, and Nina. Eva and Nina had clung on to it, almost out of loyalty to the third strong member of their little trio of friends. No one would replace Meg. Never. But somewhere, in her heart, Eva thought that maybe they might enjoy training to fly with other women. And she was certain that Meg would give them her blessing for doing that.

  “Remember those air shows you used to take us to, Dad?” Eva ran a hand over her father’s stooped shoulders.

  He stood, stock still, his hands in the pockets of his favorite old trousers. “Oh yes, dear. You and Meg used to love telling me the names of all the airplanes.”

  “We did. And I still pride myself on the fact that I can tell a Douglas from a Curtiss.”

  “Bet you’re taking them all apart in your head, Evie, whenever you look at them,” Harry said.

  Eva looked up at him.

  He tilted his head, smiled at her.

  Warmth flooded her heart.

  He reached out, stroking her head. “You’re going to have a fine life, Evie. She’d want you to live it to the fullest, you know that.”

  “I know.” Eva leaned down and touched her sister’s headstone.

  “Thank goodness we still have you, my darling.” Her father’s voice was quiet in the gathering darkness. He was silent for a moment. “Could you break it to her gently? You know I’d never stop you from going.”

  Eva started. She turned, catching Harry’s eye.

  Her father stayed motionless, looking at the grave. The expression on Harry’s face was one of regret and hope and love and fear and everything that this awful war held.

  “Yes, Dad. I’ll break it to Mom gently.”

  “I heard you kids last night too, talking about ferrying airplanes, when I walked past the sitting room to go to bed. I understand, but please, take care of yourself for all our sakes.”

  Eva rested her head on her father’s shoulder. He reached out, encircling her with his arm. Next to her, Harry stood straight and tall and dignified. The two men she loved most in the world.

  The sound of the screen door slamming rang through the house. Eva rushed down the narrow hallway from her bedroom. Nina’s voice, greeting her parents, sang out like the sound of a young bird in an otherwise silent nest. Eva grabbed her best friend by the arm and led her to her bedroom, bursting to talk.

  Nina threw herself down on Eva’s bed and reached for the canvas carryall she’d brought in with her.

  “Look what I’ve got to show you, Evie!” She coiled her long ponytail up on top of her head and turned her wide blue eyes to Eva. She shuffled down on Eva’s pillows, arranging them and patting them so that Eva could lie down right beside her.

  Nina pulled out a magazine—the latest issue of Life.

  Eva reached out and ran her fingers over it. “Oh . . .” On the cover was a photo of a girl pilot in braids, sitting on the wing of an air force plane.

  “She’s real.” Nina turned the cover toward Eva.

  “Shirley Slade.” Eva’s eyes drank in the picture.

  “Uh-huh.” Nina turned the pages.

  Eva leaned her head on her best friend’s shoulder. “Women Airforce Service Pilots. Seems their leader, Jacqueline Cochran, the famous aviator, wants to show what we girls can do, Nina!”

  “I’ve already spoken to Ma. She’s all for it. Heck, she’d fly a darned plane herself if she could get out of here. What’s more, she’s agreed to fund my flying lessons,” Nina said.

  Eva sighed. She sat up, crossed her legs, and frowned at the familiar patterns on her neatly pressed quilt. She reached across Nina and grabbed a notebook and pen from her bedside table and took off the lid from the pen. “First, I’ll speak to Mom, which I’m not even going to dwell on right now. Then once we have our pilot’s licenses, according to this article, we need to pass a physical examination and a regular entrance exam to even be considered for WASP.”

  Nina flipped through the magazine’s shiny pages. “It will be tough if we do get into the training program. It’s in the middle of Texas. A place called Sweetwater. Holy heck. Look at this, Evie. Says here that the girls deal with scorpions, rattlesnakes, and locust plagues.”

  Eva scribbled down notes. Scorpions? Can I handle them? Locusts? You bet!

  “Constant nose-to-the-grindstone work. Long days, ground school, flight training, calisthenics.”

  “You’re being too practical,” Eva said.

  “Can’t help it. That’s me.”

  “Go on.”

  “Open-cockpit flying in one-hundred-degree heat.”

  “No problem.”

  “Blizzards in winter.”

  “Fine.”

  Nina let out a loud sigh. “The washout rate can be up to fifty percent, although, so far the girls are doing better than their male counterparts. Okay, hold on, Evie. Imagine getting in and then failing and being forced to come back home! The indignity of it . . .”

  Eva lay back with a puff on her pillows. “The other girls will be darned well determined. Determined like we are. We’d make some grand new friends.” Eva turned to Nina. “Meg would be happy for us.”

  “She would.” Nina whispered the words.

  “And the flying . . .”

  “There’s nothing like flying to make a girl feel she’s able to sing.” Nina lay back too, staring at the ceiling.

  “You don’t really know what the world is until you’ve seen it from above.” Eva felt a new determination.

  “Beats the view from the factory floor under a P-38 any day.”

  “In, then?” Eva gripped Nina’s hand.

  “Oh, in.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE COMMITTEE: What did you know about the leader of the WASP, Jacqueline Cochran?

  EVA FORREST: We knew that she was the most famous woman aviator in the US. She grew up in poverty, worked as a beautician, and started her own company, then became involved in aviation and competed in air races, winning them and running her own multimillion-dollar cosmetics business. She set aviation records, both for men and women. We were in awe of her.

  THE COMMITTEE: Did you truly think that Mrs. Cochran’s achievements were in any way indicative of what the average woman could achieve?

  EVA FORREST: Here was a woman who had done what men had always done. Her rags-to-riches story inspired us. Well, she definitely inspired me and my friend Nina Rogers. We were two girls who’d grown up in humble circumstances.

  Eva sat opposite her parents at their red Formica kitchen table. Her mother’s powdered vegetable soup simmered on the stovetop. A plate of homemade biscuits sat untouched in the middle of the table, and three cups of coffee were arranged like three goalposts. The coffee had turned cold.

  “Flying airplanes won’t get you a husband.” Ruth Scott picked at the brown hairpins that held her hair into a wispy bun.

  Eva’s father sat with his hands folded in his lap.

  “My whole life isn’t about getting married, Mom.”

  Her mom sat back. “But your work at Lockheed is important. To our community. And our family. Your father lived with threats of layoffs during the thirties, but we still kept on, to support you through your school years. We need young people like you to stay here. To support those who have been here for you all your life, dear.”

  “Dear. There’s no need for that.” Eva’s dad’s tone was soft, cajoling, but Eva could hear the smear of pain in his voice.

  “Before the war, Lockheed was struggling.”

  “War helped the factory . . . I know the story, Mom.”

  “We are not rich, Eva.”

  “Ruth.” Eva’s father had switched gears to warning now. “We are fine. We have stability. The factory is slammed trying to keep up with the war orders.”

  Eva leaned forward, clasping her hands, her gaze passing in earnest from one parent to the other. “I
’m trying to do something more for our country. I hate that Dylan has come back maimed.”

  She felt the memory of Meg hanging between them in this room too. Eva took a glimpse at her empty spot at the kitchen table.

  “Charity begins at home, dear, and families need their girls. Eventually, you’ll meet some nice boy at the factory, and we’ll all be together. A family, Eva. Goodness knows, families are more important than ever in war.” Her mom smiled, her mouth spreading in an I’ve-won-this-argument kind of way. She sat back, settling her hands on her apron. Willing Eva to defy her.

  A family. “But I’m hardly ready to begin to think about settling down, Mom.” Her mother had been stripped bare by her grief at losing Meg. And so had Eva. But lately, something new had kicked in. Eva felt an urge to live her life for the both of them, for herself and her lost sister. It seemed more urgent than ever that she make the most of the opportunities that came her way.

  “Ferrying planes around might seem glamorous and exciting, but believe me, the excitement will wear thin once the reality of military training hits.” Her mom was firm.

  Eva’s father wouldn’t meet her eye.

  Eva dropped her voice. When she spoke, it was as if some new force had entered between them. The atmosphere had become loaded with something that was not there before. “Mom, Dad, have you ever experienced a true taste of freedom? Have you ever known what it feels like to soar, high over the land? It’s as if nothing matters when you are up there. It’s as damned close to infinity as you can get.”

  “Eva!”

  “Sorry for my language, Mom.” Eva reached out a hand. “You know how much I love to fly.”

  Her mom stiffened in her chair.

  “It’s nothing against you, Mom. I need to spread my wings—”

  “You could train as a nurse if you feel you must get away from us.”

  Eva leaned her head in her hand.

  “You are bored here in Burbank! You are bored with your dad and me.”

  “No.”

  “It’s not seemly, this idea of going off to fly airplanes.” Her mom’s voice moved from irritated to hysterical. “Please, I wanted to sort this out sensibly with you . . .”

  Her father stood up. He went to stand behind her mom, encircling his wife in his arms.

  “I cannot let her go.” Her mom reached up to clutch Eva’s father’s hand. Her face crumpled like a small child’s.

  There was one string Eva could pull, and she hated to pull it, but right now, she saw no other option. She took a deep breath and said it. “Mom, I’m an adult. I have the right to do as I please. I’m sorry, but it’s not a matter of you letting me go.”

  Ruth Scott pulled out her handkerchief and let out a loud sob. Eva tried to reach out to hug her mother, but she stood up, turned, and swept out the kitchen door. Her father raised a placating hand Eva’s way. He trudged after his wife up the hall.

  Eva stood up with a clatter, her heart hammering and her chair falling backward onto the floor. Pushing open the back door, she ran around to the front garden before coming to a crashing halt in the street. She stood there, chest rising and falling. Now she was starting to feel lost in her own home.

  The streetlights flickered on, and she turned to stare at the yellow-painted house where she’d lived all her life. She stood poleaxed while her mom came to the window. For one brief moment, their eyes met, before her mom pulled the drapes shut with a flourish. This was her parents’ house, her parents’ life.

  She should be allowed to choose her life too.

  Eva placed her hands in the pockets of her skirt. She marched up the road, head down, brow creased, stopping outside the house that she knew as well as her own. Harry’s father’s green hedge was soft in the gathering twilight.

  Eva walked up Harry’s driveway, past his window, his bedroom, the place where he dreamed at night.

  The sounds of laughter rang through to the garden.

  Eva’s shoulders hung heavy as she pushed the back screen door open. Harry sat with both his parents at the kitchen table. And next to him, her manicured hand resting in his own, was his girlfriend, Lucille.

  Eva stopped dead in the doorway. For a flash of a second, she considered backing up and going home. But home was a hornet’s nest. Should she go sit in a park somewhere?

  “Evie.” Harry was up out of his seat instantly. “Is everything okay?”

  Was she so transparent? Eva stood up to her full height.

  “Hello, Harry, Mrs. Butler, Mr. Butler, Lucille . . .” Eva’s voice surprised her. It sounded normal. But her eyes locked with Harry’s, and she knew that she hid nothing from him.

  “You look like you’ve seen the factory ghost, my dear.” Mr. Butler stood up too. He was a perfect older version of Harry, same fair hair, green eyes, tall, handsome.

  Eva heard Lucille’s intake of breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the way the girl patted her blond hair. Eva was an interruption, and an unwelcome one.

  “I didn’t realize you had company. I’m sorry.” Eva’s voice cracked on the last syllable. She started to back away.

  But Harry was right alongside her. “Mom, Dad, Lucille, can you excuse us a moment?”

  Eva turned toward the door. “No, it’s fine. Bad timing.”

  Harry went to open the screen door. “Come and talk to me outside.”

  “It’s a hot night out there. Harry, you’ll boil.” Lucille’s voice tinkled, and the screen door squeaked.

  Eva shot Lucille an apologetic look.

  Lucille pouted. Even in annoyance, her red lips formed a pretty shape.

  “Sorry, I’m not much company for your folks right now,” Eva apologized.

  Harry took her arm. He led her over to the wide wooden swing that his dad had built. Eva had spent hours there as a little girl, singing while she sailed over his backyard.

  Harry sat down on the wide seat. He reached out a hand and pulled Eva down next to him.

  “Tell me how it went at home.”

  “Mom is crying. I wish I could have her blessing. But I can’t stay here. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do.” His voice was tender in the dark night.

  Once the words started coming, Eva couldn’t stop. “Ever since Meg died, I feel like I’ve been just existing. Pushing one foot after the other. Nothing feels alive anymore. But when I’m up in the sky, with you . . .” She turned to him, eyes huge.

  “I know.” He rested his arm around her shoulder.

  “But I can’t possibly leave my mom like this.”

  Harry stroked her hair, smoothing out her curls. “Evie, deep down, the last thing your mom would want is for you to live a half-dead life. She’s just scared of losing you, is all. But you’re going to apply to ferry planes around the US, not—”

  “Fly Helldivers on bombing raids as a dead target.” She gripped the base of the swing and placed her feet squarely on the ground. The swing came to an abrupt stop.

  “You know me.” His voice dropped. “I can’t sit here, just like you can’t. We both know that.”

  “When I think about what’s going on in France . . .”

  Harry pulled her closer. “Unlikely to happen here, Evie.”

  “But look what happened to Dylan! You might not come back, you might not come home. And we could lose the war.”

  “Okay. Here’s what we do—”

  “You should get back to Lucille,” Eva interrupted him, staring at Lucille talking to Harry’s mother in the kitchen, their figures silhouetted in the window, close together. Lucille’s glance out to Eva and Harry was sharp.

  “Evie, listen to me. First, we need to get your mom feeling a bit better about the situation.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should focus on finding a beau.”

  In the kitchen window, Lucille flicked a hand through her blond hair and turned away. Eva bit hard on her lip.

  “Nina’s mom has agreed to fund her flight lessons. I’ll teach you for
free.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Evie.” Harry dropped his voice. Even in the darkness, she could sense him processing something difficult that he wanted to say to her. “Would it make things easier for your mom if she knew I was involved in this? If she knew it was me who was teaching you to fly?”

  “She worships the ground you fly over.”

  “Sometimes, you gotta make the most of a little worshipping.”

  A weak laugh escaped Eva’s lips. “Oh, you are too funny.”

  “Here’s what I’ve been thinking. Tomorrow morning, and every morning after that before work, I’ll give you your flying lessons, until you are a fully licensed pilot. I’m convinced that once your mom’s seen how hard you’re working, she’ll be proud of you.”

  Eva looked up at him. He smiled at her with his eyes. Moonlight shone on his handsome face.

  “I’ll meet you in front of my house at four thirty sharp in the morning.” He ruffled the back of her head. “You’d best go get some sleep. Because tomorrow is lesson one. I’ll be ticking off all your accomplishments as we go. And first thing tomorrow, we’re going to work on taking off.”

  “You help me take off.” Eva turned away from him, her face burning.

  Lucille stood framed in the screen door, staring out at them, her feet clearly visible in their red pumps.

  Eva tore her eyes away from Harry’s girlfriend.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Thank you.” The moment they’d shared was suddenly ripped apart.

  “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

  “Good night, Harry.” She drew her cardigan around her and went out into the silent street.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE COMMITTEE: What did you think Jacqueline Cochran’s intentions for women pilots were? To turn a group of women into military pilots?

  EVA FORREST: My understanding was that Jacqueline Cochran wrote to Eleanor Roosevelt back in 1940 to raise the idea of starting a women’s flying division in the Air Corps. Mrs. Cochran’s intention was to place qualified women pilots in noncombative aviation jobs in order to release more male pilots for combat roles. She put together plans for a separate women’s unit of the Air Corps, to be headed by herself, with the same standing as the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps, which was given full military status in July 1943. In 1941, General Henry H. Arnold suggested that she take a group of female pilots to England to see how women were being employed successfully in the Air Transport Auxiliary in that country. Jacqueline Cochran agreed, but she also worked toward her goal of starting a women’s flying corps in the American military back home. She and her husband were friends with President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Eleanor Roosevelt. Jacqueline convinced the president to support her idea of using women pilots to help with the war effort, and he asked Jacqueline Cochran to research a plan to train these pilots.