by Murray Pura
“Wizard—”
“Whistler’s on ice skates and frozen ponds and hockey sticks.”
Hani laughed out loud.
Wizard shrugged with both his hands and shoulders. “Look, sir, there aren’t any of the right kind of firs growing in the Hawaiian Islands. We could get something shipped in from the States, say Washington or Oregon, but it would cost as much as your Packard and a tank full of gas.”
“No excuses, Wizard. If Juggler and Batman can put together a band—”
“We have pine trees.” Manuku released Ruth’s hand so he could show its height. “This kind grows up to two hundred feet high. I am sure there are some on Lanai. Or Maui. We call it the Cook Pine. It’s very slender but it has beautiful needles and cones.”
“Two hundred feet!” Skipp’s eyes gleamed as he downed his glass of juice in one go. “Perfect for the hangar. Imagine Kimmel’s eyes when he sees that all gussied up for Christmas.”
Lockjaw gave Manuku his death look. “Sir, a two-hundred-foot tree? We’d need an aircraft carrier to bring it in. Or one of the battlewagons.”
“The Lexington will be back on Monday.”
Shooter perked up. “Would you like to put some money on that, sir?”
Skipp jabbed his glass at Shooter. “You have enough of my greenbacks.” He glanced around the room and his eyes stopped on Flapjack. “Everything’s coming together. Grub, music, a Christmas tree strung with lights and tinsel—can you think of anything else?”
“Sure.” Flapjack grinned. “Eggnog. Hot chestnuts. Figgy pudding—like in the song.” He began to sing off-key, “Bring us some figgy pudding, bring us some figgy pudding—”
Shirley swatted his arm playfully. “Shh!”
“He’s right.” Skipp’s juice glass had mysteriously filled again and he put it to his mouth. “Thunderbird. What about eggnog?” He looked around the room. Not seeing Raven he fixed his eyes on Shooter. “So where is he?”
“Search me.”
Becky jumped up. “Uh, he just went to get a glass of water, Colonel. I’ll tell him you want to know about eggnog.”
She went to the kitchen but Raven wasn’t there. Glancing out the windows she spotted him sitting on the grass with a tall glass in his hand.
“Hey.” Becky sat down next to Raven. “Whassup, baby?”
He laughed. “Well, baby, I needed a break from Billy Skipp’s latest obsession. If he doesn’t have us in the air flying after imaginary Zeros and Messerschmitts, we’re trying to create a New England Christmas for him in the tropics.”
“The colonel’s just having fun. So are the guys.”
“Moon’s only a shade off full now. Nice yellow color this low in the trees. What do you think?”
She slipped an arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Lovely. But nothing will ever match Wednesday night for me. The moon was completely full and God was everywhere. God and love.”
“Yeah, it was pretty special. But so was the dancing last night.”
“It was a lot of fun. But nothing like the night on the beach.”
“I guess you’re right.” He put down his glass and wrapped his arm around her. “Tomorrow’s the sixth.”
“Right you are.”
“I have this note in the margin of my Bible back at Wheeler, you know. All it says is Becky Whetstone and a verse is underlined. There’s the date—November sixth. Oh, and a heart.”
She lifted her head. “There is not.”
“Nothing Michelangelo would own up to, but it’s there.”
“What happened on the sixth?”
“I’m not sure exactly. Was that when we agreed to stop insulting each other for breakfast each morning? Did I have a dream? Was I thinking about you a lot?”
“I hope all three.”
“The verse is from Proverbs. It goes sort of like this—there are three things that are too wonderful for me, four which I do not understand. The way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a serpent on a rock, the way of a ship in the middle of the sea, and the way of a man with a maid.”
“You underlined that and put my name next to it a month ago?”
“Yeah. And I remember daydreaming about how an eagle slips through the sky, how snakes glide when they want to move fast, what it looks like from a plane to see a carrier and its task force cutting their way across the ocean—and how a man loves a woman. Then I daydreamed about holding you in my arms and kissing you. It was really wild because we were nowhere near that stage yet, and I’d argue with anyone who thought I was falling for you. But I dreamed that dream. And now it’s real.”
Becky leaned into his arms. “No one is more surprised at that than I am. I never thought…”
“Meet me on the flight line tomorrow morning before your first student,” Raven said. “It’s our one-month anniversary. I’ll have something special for you.”
“I’ll be there at six.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
And he was. Becky showed up at quarter to six. No one was in Peterson’s hut. She began her walk across the runway to Piper Eleven. For a moment it looked like the plane stood alone. Then a tall figure emerged from behind the aircraft.
I feel your eyes on me again and my skin tingles—it’s good, so good. I’m back in October and I’m walking over the tarmac and wondering who it is that’s gazing at me, which one of the ground crew or which one of the flying instructors or students. And all along it was you, the guy I swore I’d never love, never touch, never kiss. Thank you, God, that my life turned out differently from my vow.
“Morning, Stardust.”
“Morning, Thunderbird.”
“You look terrific.”
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself. I love seeing your blue eyes early in the morning. It’s like getting twice the sky.”
“Charmer.” He dug a small box out of his pocket. It was wrapped in blue paper with a blue bow. “Speaking of blue. This is a small token of thanks for the way you walk across runways.”
“Shut up, Thunderbird.” She punched his shoulder hard. “Can I open it now?”
“Definitely.”
She ripped at the paper like a child. Inside the box that emerged was a smaller box. Inside that box was an even smaller box. She yelped and punched his shoulder again. “I can’t take it. What are you trying to do to me?”
“One more box.”
The smallest box opened to a wad of pure white cotton. Under the cotton was a gold chain. Its links were larger than the usual ones used in a woman’s necklace. The chain gleamed.
“Just right,” he said, reading her thoughts. “A whole lot of beauty. A whole lot of ruggedness. And pure gold.”
“Aw.” She carefully lifted the chain out of the box and was surprised to see a gem attached to it. “What’s that?” The jewel was blue and green, and it turned the color of the Hawaiian sea as the sun, not yet over the horizon, continued to spill light into the air. “Oh, my goodness, Christian. It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s as if the ocean has been set in stone.”
“You must have seen it before. It’s your birthstone. For March.”
Becky held it in her hand while the chain slid over her fingers and sparkled underneath her hand. “I don’t know anything about birthstones. We never practiced such things. Too much Amishness in my family’s bloodline.”
“It’s aquamarine. Your eyes have that color of green mixed with blue sometimes. Usually when you’re swimming or flying.”
“You don’t see my eyes when I’m flying.”
“I did when you were my instructor. Whenever you turned around to glare at me or fire off an insult.”
“You shouldn’t have been thinking romantically at those times.”
“I didn’t think I was.” His fingers touched hers. “Do you mind if I do the honors of placing it around your perfect neck?”
“My perfect neck.” She smiled up at him. “As if I’d mind.”
He took the chain fro
m her hand and circled her throat with it, gently closing the clasp. “The way of a man with a maid.” He glanced to the east. “When’s sunrise?”
“About six twenty-five.”
“I want to hang around long enough to see what happens when dawn and your eyes and the gemstone meet. When’s your first student?”
“Seven. That’s your old slot.”
“Do you mind if I wait here till six twenty-five?”
“No. But you have to help me look over the plane if you’re bent on seeing eyes and gems and dawns come together.”
“My pleasure.”
When he knelt to check the tires she encircled him from behind with her arms. “I’m your gold chain. And we’re both out of sight.”
“Hey, did you trap me or something?”
“Yeah, hotshot. Try to get this Zero off your tail.” She drew his head back into her stomach and leaned over him. The gemstone dangled just above his eyes. “I’m going to take all your air. You know what that means?”
“I’ll crash.”
“Right into my arms. That’s the plan.”
“I usually don’t like losing. But this is okay.”
“Just okay?”
He reached his hands up and back until he had them behind her head. “It’s the best.” He drew her head down until their lips touched. When the sun found its way under the wing of the airplane the gemstone ignited as it lay over his heart.
Becky took her students over Diamond Head and over the ocean all day. She gave Nate the stick and let him take the two of them out to sea for miles. Often she closed her eyes, praying and dreaming.
In the evening the sun was still golden and above the palm trees when she walked from the parking lot of the Royal Hawaiian onto the beach. Harrison was standing by the water, and the pure notes of “Amazing Grace” rose from his trumpet. He was in white and the sun on him was the color of the chain at her neck.
Praise God for beauty.
Her family was already there. And Raven. She walked past Dave Goff, who was singing the hymn with such power and depth that it startled her. She lingered nearby for a minute. He smiled and lifted his hand in greeting, then closed his eyes and continued to offer up his voice and the words.
You walked on the beaches of Galilee and you walk on the beach here. We honor you.
Becky reached Raven on the fourth verse of the song. He took her hand, kissed it quickly, and continued to sing. She joined him. It was not the final stanza. Pastor Thor had added several extra ones she had hardly ever heard.
The Lord has promised good to me,
His Word my hope secures;
He will my Shield and Portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
The world shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun refuse to shine;
But God, who called me here below,
Shall be forever mine.
She bowed her head as the hymn came to an end. The beach was silent. Even the gulls did not cry out for a few moments. When she looked up the sun had set and the sky to the east in front of them was the color of a crimson rose.
“Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.” Raven continued to hold her hand. “It’s good to see you here. You and the stone look magnificent.”
She smiled her thank-you. “Harrison plays so well.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you hear David singing?”
“If it was that rich and deep male voice—”
“That was him. He really surprised me. Billy Skipp should think of asking him to lead us in some of the carols at Christmas.”
“Well, if we heard him I’m sure the colonel did too. He’s over there with your dad and Flapjack.” Raven gestured with his head. “And the wives are all together by the shore.”
“What are Flapjack and Skipp both doing here?”
“I don’t know. To hear Harrison?”
“They could hear him anytime. And this isn’t ‘In the Mood’ or ‘Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy.’”
“Maybe Shooter bet they wouldn’t show and they did to make sure he lost a lot of money.”
“Ha. Knowing Shooter, he set them up. Dared them to come but acted like he knew they wouldn’t. Probably bet against the odds. Laid his money on Flapjack and Skipp showing up to spite him.”
“Could be. But they’re here now. And they don’t look like they’re going anywhere.”
“Where does Flapjack get his shirts? Now it’s yellow and orange and purple.”
“And Thor’s is red and black. He obviously didn’t use that ten we left for him last time.”
“You wanted blue?”
“Prayed for it.”
“Maybe God likes red as much as the pastor does.”
Pastor Thor prayed and then spoke for about ten minutes. He tied his message into the hymn they had just finished and spoke about the love of God.
“A lot of things come our way in life. There are many ups and downs. Few things endure. A great deal collapses or fades or falls apart. Our buildings do, our machines do, our bodies do—even our lives come to a stop. But the love of God is unending. The love of God is ceaseless. In a world where so much does not last, his love is the one thing that does. It’s why I steer people to Jesus. His face is the face of God—his warmth, his kindness, his strength, his courage, his power. You measure a man by his character and his actions and his words. Some of us can size a man up just by looking in his eyes. If you do that with Jesus you see God and you see greatness. You see a bright, clear, and steady dawn.”
Raven started walking her away from the crowd of worshippers as Pastor Thor asked Jude to pray a final prayer. Becky kept her eyes closed, listening to her father’s words, feeling Raven guide her over the sand and to the edge of the water so that the surf ran over her sandals and toes. Soon she could not hear Jude’s voice but still kept her eyes shut.
“You can open them now if you want.”
She saw Diamond Head in the last trace of rose and scarlet with the night sweeping in like a strong dark sea.
“It’s rock steady.” Raven stared at the volcanic cone. “Like God. But God is more than Diamond Head. So is my love for you. I want you to know that.”
“I do know it.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Becky. And there’s no one else. You’re my lady. This is our one-month anniversary and there’s going to be a thousand more.”
“I believe you.”
He ran a thumb slowly back and forth over her lips. “I’m not going to ask you to stay up all night again. You’re at the airfield early for your students like you were always at the airfield early for me. I just want you to stand here and hold my hand and wait until the moon rises out of the sea. Okay? That’s how I’d like our anniversary to end.”
“Can I say I love you?”
“I’d like that.”
“And I’ll see you at church tomorrow? For sure?”
“You bet.”
“Because you’ve had a habit lately of not showing up.”
Raven grinned. “Skipp is in a flat calm now. He’s had us flying in circles for weeks but today he had the fighters defueled and the ammo removed. They’ll sit on the runway pretty much all weekend. I’ll be at church tomorrow morning, beauty.”
“Then I’ll stay until the moon is over the water and blazing like gold.” She counted the stars that began to glint against the black. “I used to think you and I alternated between being spiritual and passionate. Now I know our passionate is spiritual and our spiritual is passionate.”
He glanced down at the aquamarine gem around her throat and twined the gold chain in his finger. “Forever, Stardust. That’s what I’d like for you and me.”
She put her hand on his. “That’s what I want too, Thunderbird. Even if the world dissolves like snow and the sun refuses to shin
e.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Becky woke at five-thirty and prayed a prayer while she lay in her bed. Dressing quickly and quietly in a clean T-shirt and jeans she left Ruth asleep as she stepped softly down the stairs to the washroom and had a shower. Pulling her clothes on again, she went into the kitchen and glanced at the calendar on the wall, running her finger down the items penciled in for December seven—flying instruction until ten-thirty, a break for church, the next student at twelve-thirty, lessons through to five, a rehearsal for the Christmas dance band at seven. She bit into an apple and wrote in Thunderbird, The Black Cat, nine-thirty.
She closed the door slowly behind her because everyone was sleeping in, and she climbed into the jeep. Before she started the engine she threw on her leather jacket and pulled the aquamarine gem from one of its pockets, drawing the gold chain down over her head.
When she pulled up next to Flapjack’s hut, he met her and handed her a sheet of paper.
“Meteorologists are giving us a typical morning. As the land warms up the trade winds will be offset. In the afternoon the effect is going to be lessened, but the trades won’t be strong enough to make flying the J-3s difficult.”
“Okay.”
“Nothing special going on with the military, no exercises, but there will be a flight of B-17s coming in. You won’t have trouble spotting them or staying out of their way.”
“Right. I’m taking Kalino up first thing.”
“Manuku’s already landed from two lessons and he’s taking off again in ten minutes. Sunday’s the craziest day of the week and I don’t have your mom and dad. I’m giving you church, but you may have to fly until six or seven.”
Becky wrinkled her face. “Oh, come on, Flapjack. The band is rehearsing for the Christmas party tonight. I promised Batman and Juggler I’d be there.”
“Well, we gotta teach the students and bring in the moola or no paychecks for the Whetstone Flying Circus.” He gestured with his chin. “Nice stone. Find it on the beach?”
“Sure, Flapjack. It was a gift from Thunderbird. My birthstone.”
“Love the color. Chain’s nice too. Guess he finally did fall for the gal with two fangs and horns—you know, the ugly one who ate concrete for breakfast?”
