Defiant Heart

by Steere, Marty

  Ben stepped back, smiling. “Where did that come from?”

  Jon smiled in response and tapped his chest with his gloves. “Eyes here.”

  Ben laughed. “All right, smart guy.”

  Suddenly, Ben stepped back, looking alert, his eyes focused nowhere in particular. He tilted his head. Taking the end of one of his glove laces in his teeth and pulling quickly, he said, “Let’s go,” and strode rapidly to the door. Jon followed, also loosening his laces.

  When he stepped outside, Jon realized what it was Ben had heard. It was a distant rumble. Jon’s initial thought was that it might be a large truck.

  Ben started walking toward the field, his head up, his eyes now looking eastward.

  The rumble was more distinct now, more of a throaty roar. Certainly not a truck.

  Then it was upon them. Above the trees lining the east end of the field, an aircraft flying at a jaw-dropping rate of speed appeared, just barely clearing the top branches. It came whipping straight over the field at a height of no more than a hundred feet, accompanied by a sound louder than anything Jon had ever heard before. And then it was gone, the roar fading, though not completely. In the distance, Jon could still hear the thrum of its engine.

  Jon had only had a couple of seconds to observe it. It was a single wing aircraft, the wing set below the fuselage. The propeller was encased in a nose cone that came to a sharp point at the front. Immediately behind and below the propeller was what appeared to be a large air scoop. The fuselage tapered back from that point to a slightly rounded tail. The cockpit was set well back along the fuselage, glass surrounding the pilot everywhere but immediately behind him, the top of the glass blending into the top of the fuselage aft of the cockpit. It gave the craft a sleek, modern look. The plane was painted an olive green. Stenciled on the side of the fuselage behind the cockpit was a large white five-sided star inside a blue circle, the ends of a white bar extending out from either side of the circle. Jon knew it was a military aircraft.

  They both stood there a moment, listening to the distant sound of the engine. Then Ben pointed to the south. “There,” he said. “I’ll be damned. He’s going to try to land it here.”

  “I wonder who it is.”

  Ben grunted, and Jon looked at him. Something about Ben’s expression struck Jon. “You think you know who it is?”

  Ben nodded. “I have an idea. Part of me says I hope I’m right. Part of me says I hope I’m wrong.”

  Surprised, Jon turned back and scanned the sky for a sight of the aircraft. “Do you think he’ll be able to land it here?”

  “If it’s who I think it is, yep.”

  After another minute, the sound began to increase again, though, this time, when the plane appeared above the tree line, it was traveling much slower. Landing gear had appeared below each wing, Jon only now realizing he’d seen no undercarriage on the plane as it had passed by initially.

  The plane dropped quickly, flaring at the last moment, and settling gracefully onto the field, the two front wheels and a small wheel below the tail making contact at the same moment. It bumped along the surface until it was near the far end, turned and taxied back to a spot just beyond the open area between the hangar and Ben’s house, stopping about fifty feet from where Ben and Jon stood.

  The pilot shut the engine down, and a relative silence descended. A portion of the cockpit glass slid back, and a figure appeared, standing, then gripping the frame of the cockpit canopy and easily swinging his legs up and over the edge of the fuselage, landing for a moment on the back of the wing, then jumping to the ground. He was wearing khaki trousers and a dark brown jacket. On his head was a light brown fabric helmet that bulged at the ears. A pair of goggles had been pushed back onto his forehead.

  He came jogging toward them, and Ben stepped forward. When the pilot reached Ben, he threw his arms around him, and Ben reciprocated with a bear hug. They stayed that way for several seconds. When they stepped back, both appeared to have moist eyes.

  “Good to see you, Pop,” the pilot said, slipping the helmet off of his head and revealing a mop of wavy black hair.

  Ben took a deep breath. “I’m happy to see you, too, Tommie. But, I’m also a little concerned.” He pointed to the plane. “Something tells me the army didn’t order you to land here.”

  Tommie grinned, revealing a set of even, white teeth. “You’re right about that. They’re expecting me at Chanute Field, where I’m supposed to refuel in,” he consulted a watch on his wrist, “thirty-two minutes.”

  “Chanute? Over in Rantoul?”

  Tommie nodded.

  “If you hadn’t stopped to land here, you’d be there by now.”

  “Yep,” said Tommie, “I hightailed it from Buffalo. Got off a little early and kept the throttle open the whole way. I figured, when the army told me to fly practically right over this place, it was really telling me to stop in and see my pop. Who, by the way, I haven’t seen in almost a year. You remember how the army works, right?”

  Ben shook his head, but he was smiling.

  Tommie seemed to notice Jon for the first time. “Tommie Wheeler,” he said, putting out a hand.

  Jon stepped forward and shook his hand. “Jon. Jon Meyer.”

  Tommie nodded toward the boxing gloves that Jon had forgotten he was still holding. “I see my pop is teaching you how to box. Has he shown you the Widowmaker yet?”

  Jon looked at Ben, who laughed. “Not yet. We’ll get to that soon enough.”

  Tommie adopted a boxing stance, moved his fists side to side for a moment, then threw a big overhand right at no one in particular.

  “You tipped it off,” Ben said, and this time it was Tommie’s turn to laugh.

  “You know, Pop, I really need to hit the head. I’ll bet you’ve got some cold milk in the fridge. Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes and catch up.” He put his arm around Ben’s shoulder, and the two of them started walking toward the house.

  Jon was unsure what to do, but Ben looked back and jerked his head in the direction of the house, indicating he should follow.

  Ben had poured three glasses of milk, and he and Jon were sitting at the kitchen table when Tommie came in and sat down.

  “So tell me, Tommie,” Ben said, “what’s the army got you doing now?”

  “Right now,” Tommie said, taking a sip of milk, “I’m a glorified truck driver. That P-40 you see out there just came off the line in Buffalo. I’m taking it to Los Angeles. From there, I understand it’s on its way to China or someplace like that.”

  “You’re not going with it?”

  Tommie shook his head. “Nope. Like I said, glorified truck driver.”

  Ben seemed relieved. “Well, I can think of worse things.”

  “I know, Pop,” said Tommie. He looked at the table and absently ran his fingers along the grain of the wood. Then he looked up. “The thing is, there’s a war going on. I can’t just be ferrying planes around the country. Heck, the army’s starting to train women to do that.”

  Ben spread his palms. “If I recall correctly, the army doesn’t usually ask you what you want to do. It tells you what you’re going to do.”

  Nodding, Tommie said, “That’s right. It hasn’t changed much. But,” he leaned forward, his face animated, “they’re pretty desperate right now to fill aircrews for the European bombing campaign. Heavy bombers. B-17s and B-24s. They’ve been asking for volunteers. It’s a quick ticket to the show.”

  Ben frowned. “Why would you want to fly one of those if you can strap yourself to something like that fighter out there?”

  “Because it’s the only way I’m guaranteed to get into the mix. I want to get there before it’s all over.”

  Ben expelled a breath. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Tommie. This war isn’t going to be over any time soon. Maybe you should just let the army use your skills the way they see fit.”

  “Too late,” Tommie said. “When I get to L.A., I’ve got orders sending me up to Idaho
. I start training in a week.”

  Ben was quiet for a long time. Tommie broke the silence by turning to Jon. “Have you been flying?”

  Jon nodded. “I have, yes. In the Jenny.”

  “Figured. I saw the picture in the cabinet.” It was a picture Ben had taken just after Jon had soloed for the first time. Ben had set his camera on a tripod and snapped it using a remote cord. They both had broad smiles on their faces. Ben had his arm around Jon’s shoulder.

  “Jon took right to it,” Ben said. “I let him land the Jenny the first time he went up.”

  “Really?” Tommie said, looking impressed. “Had you ever been flying before?”

  “No, sir.”

  Tommie arched his eyebrows and looked at Ben. “A natural, huh?”

  Ben nodded.

  Tommie returned his attention to Jon. “Meyer. I don’t remember that name. Are you new to the area?”

  “Yes, sir. I came this past summer to live with my grandmother.”

  “Jon’s parents passed away,” Ben added. “His mother was Claire Wilson, Marvella’s daughter.”

  “Huh,” Tommie said, “I didn’t know Mrs. Wilson even had any kids. Sorry to hear about your folks Jon.”

  Jon nodded. “Thanks.”

  Tommie looked at Ben. His expression became somber. “Pop, don’t worry about me. I’m going to be fine.”

  Ben said nothing, but he nodded.

  Pushing himself up from the table, Tommie said, “I’d better get going before the army realizes they’re short a pilot. And, worse, a plane.”

  The three of them walked out to a spot a few feet from the aircraft Jon now knew was a P-40. Tommie turned to Ben, and they embraced, holding it for a long moment. Stepping back, Tommie wiped his eyes with his sleeve and walked to the plane. He had a foot up on the wing when he stepped back, pointed to Jon and motioned him over.

  Jon jogged over to where Tommie stood. Tommie reached out his hand, and Jon took it. “Jon, it was a pleasure meeting you. You know,” he added, “my pop is a really good judge of character, and he obviously thinks a lot of you.”

  He reached over with his left hand and put it on Jon’s shoulder. Squeezing both hands at the same time, he said, “Be well. And look after my pop, ok?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Jon and Ben stood together and watched as Tommie fired up the engine and went through a quick check of the control surfaces. He taxied out to a point near the tree line, ran the engine to maximum revolutions, and then, releasing the brakes, he sent the aircraft hurtling down the field and into the air. In a matter of a few seconds, it was gone, the sound receding to nothing.

  Ben stood very still for a long time, and Jon waited patiently.

  Finally, Ben turned and put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I’d say maybe it’s time I showed you the old Widowmaker. What do you think?”

  Jon nodded, and together they walked back to the hangar.

  #

  Jon told his grandmother he would not be eating dinner with her that evening. She assumed he would be eating with Ben, and he said nothing to correct that misimpression. He and Mary drove to Ridley in the late afternoon. It was the first time in seven months Jon had been anywhere with traffic signals and street lights.

  They had dinner at a restaurant Mary knew. She had to convince Jon it was ok for her to pay, finally sealing the deal when she noted the money was an allowance from her father, and, in reality, her father was treating them to the meal, something Mary felt he owed Jon many times over.

  After dinner, they walked to the Orpheum to see Babes on Broadway with Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland. They shared popcorn and held hands through the entire movie.

  Jon drove back, and, just before they reached Jackson, he pulled off the road to retrieve his bike from the rear of the car. With the front wheel re-attached, he stood and faced Mary. She looked up at him, reflections of the moon sparkling in her eyes. It was a still night. No breeze ruffled the tree branches, and Jon could hear no sound other than the muffled pounding of his own heart.

  Mary took a step closer to him. As she did, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder. She leaned in, and, instinctively, he did likewise. When their lips touched, a warm, thrilling sensation flooded his body.

  Mary put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he encircled her with his. He couldn’t say how long they stayed that way. When they did finally separate, however, it was only for a brief moment. They looked each another, and immediately fell back into a kiss.

  Finally, out of breath, they stopped. Mary put her head against his chest, and Jon leaned his face against the top of her head, drinking in the scent of her hair. After a moment, he realized she was crying. Alarmed, he pulled back to look at her. She seemed embarrassed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She shook her head and laughed softly. “Nothing is wrong,” she said. “Absolutely nothing. I’m just so happy.”

  Jon let go of her with one hand and reached up, running a finger tenderly across her cheek where tears had run. She grasped his hand with hers, turned it and gently kissed the back of it. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Nothing is going to keep us apart.”

  #

  On Sunday morning, Jon and Mary drove to Ben’s place. Jon and Ben had made plans for Ben to take Mary up in the Jenny. As they pulled up, Ben was out by the hangar waiting for them, and, when Mary got out of the car, he stepped forward and gave her a hug. Ben and Jon rolled the Jenny out of the hangar. Ben gave Mary the leather jacket to wear, and she was quite a sight in it. The garment was almost twice her size, but she pushed the sleeves up and had a good laugh about it at her own expense.

  Her eyes bright with anticipation, Mary climbed into the front cockpit and allowed Jon to strap her in. Jon rotated the propeller and fired up the engine. He then watched as Ben taxied out to the field and lifted off.

  When they returned, Mary was even more animated than usual. Her cheeks a rosy red from the cold and her impossibly blue eyes positively dancing, she recounted the adventure with breathless excitement.

  Before they left, Ben gave Mary another hug. As Ben straightened, Mary took him by surprise, standing on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for everything,” she said. “Especially being here for Jon.”

  Ben’s cheeks reddened slightly and he seemed at a loss for words. Still, he looked pleased.

  Jon leaned over and said, “I know exactly how you feel.”

  #

  “Ok, what’s that look supposed to mean?” asked Mary, chuckling. The expression on Sam’s face was priceless.

  “At some point you are going to tell me what’s turned you into the happiest person on the planet, right?”

  Mary laughed.

  They were sitting in the outdoor eating area at school. It was the first week of March, and, though it was still cold, it was a rare sunny day. Mary had convinced Sam to bundle up and eat lunch outside. The only other person in the outdoor area was Jon, who was, as usual, alone, seated two tables away from where Mary and Sam sat.

  Jon had become something of an invisible man. Nobody seemed to pay attention to him any more, other than, of course, Mary, who was always keenly aware of his presence. She hadn’t told Sam that Jon was one of the reasons she’d been so insistent on eating outdoors today. When she and Sam sat down, Mary had taken the seat facing in Jon’s direction, and Sam sat with her back to Jon. From their respective positions, Mary and Jon were able to see each other and exchange covert looks.

  “Seriously,” Sam continued, “I’m thinking it has to be either a guy or a lobotomy.”

  Mary shook her head. Fortunately, Sam had been so busy the past several weeks with the school play she hadn’t noticed anything unusual in Mary’s comings and goings. Mary and Jon had arranged their schedules so that, when Sam was available to do things with Mary, Jon spent time with Ben. It had worked well, and Sam had not yet caught on.

  “Have you seen me hangin
g around with any guys lately?” Mary asked with a smile.

  Sam thought about that for a moment. Finally, she said, “So, how much did you pay for that lobotomy, anyway?”

  Mary was about to reply, when a shadow fell across the table between them. She and Sam both looked up.

  Vernon stood at the end of the table. He was in shirt sleeves. “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked. He paused a beat, and, when there was no immediate response, he slid onto the bench next to Sam.

  “Aren’t you a little cold?” Sam asked.

  Vernon shrugged. “Not a problem for me.”

  Sam turned to Mary, who returned her look with a shrug of her own.

  “Sam,” Vernon said, with a forced politeness, “would you mind terribly if I had a word in private with Mary?”

  The reaction on Sam’s face mirrored Mary’s, a mixture of surprise and annoyance. Sam gave Mary an inquiring look. Mary had no desire to talk to Vernon. But she knew Vernon, and she didn’t want a scene. She gave a slight nod, hoping Sam would not go far. Sam collected her lunch items, lifted her legs and pivoted around. She stood and, from behind Vernon, gave Mary a look and pointed to the cafeteria door as if to say that she’d be waiting inside. Mary nodded.

  When Sam had left, Vernon folded his hands in front of himself and gave Mary a brilliant smile. She had to admit, he was very good-looking. Most anyone who didn’t know Vernon would be instantly attracted to him. Mary, of course, knew it was a thin veneer. She returned his look without smiling.

  “Mary,” he said, effusively.

  “Vernon,” she replied, politely.

  He continued to give her that winning smile.

  “Well,” Mary said, “now that we’ve established our identities…”

  “This Saturday evening,” he interrupted, “there will be a party to celebrate our victory in the regional championship.”

  “You won the regional championship?” Mary asked, innocently.

  Vernon’s brow furrowed momentarily. “No, not yet. But we will on Saturday. And when we do, we’ll be celebrating at the Lodge. Where, by the way, my father’s now a member.”