The airport was little more than a grass runway and a single large hangar. A few planes were parked beside it. It was early, and though the air was still cool, the rising sun promised a warm day. Dr. Bennett took off in long strides toward a small white propeller plane with a dashing red-and-navy stripe painted across its middle. The plane had two wheels that looked ridiculously small under the body and another one under the nose. Lovie walked at her own pace, watching with interest as he immediately began checking the outside of the plane. He ran his hands along the wings, checking the flaps, the propeller. She assumed it was the equivalent of looking under the hood of a car and kicking the tires. He looked lean and fit in his khaki pants and white cotton shirt, she thought, then flushed slightly for checking him out.
He saw her approach and waved her closer.
Lovie slowed her steps as she drew near the small plane, suddenly filled again with an inner voice saying no, no, no.
Dr. Bennett turned to open her door, then called out, “Come on, let’s go!”
Lovie stopped six feet away and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Is there a problem?”
“I, uh . . .” She swallowed hard.
He removed his sunglasses and squinted as he studied her face. “You’re afraid.”
“No!” she blurted. She didn’t want him to perceive her as weak. She wanted to be his equal. A professional. “I’m apprehensive,” she replied. “I’ve heard that flying in a small airplane like this is dangerous. That there are more accidents in small planes than in cars on the road.”
“I wouldn’t fly in one if that were true,” he replied. “There are accidents, true, and it’s always a tragedy. But the number one cause of accidents is pilot error. Not the plane’s error. Don’t underestimate this baby,” he said, indicating his plane. “This is what we call a high-wing model so I can see below while I fly. It’s easier to land, and it can, in an emergency, be landed on the beach, if the pilot knows what he’s doing. And I assure you, Mrs. Rutledge, I know what I’m doing.”
“After the way you drove, I’m not so sure.”
Dr. Bennett put his hands on his hips and looked away, considering her statement. When he turned back toward her, he took a few steps closer and spoke without the earlier terseness.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Rutledge. I started the morning off on the wrong foot. I have to remember I’m not in some jungle, barking orders at Bing, but in Charleston—with a lady. If I promise to mind my manners, will you come? What you’ll see from the sky will amaze you. You don’t want to miss it.” He held out his hand in invitation.
That he was suddenly so chivalrous won her over. Lovie took a breath and stepped forward. He led her to the plane and handed her up into the small cockpit. It was a tight fit, and she wondered how two more people could ever ride comfortably squeezed into that backseat. He rounded the plane, and as he climbed in beside her she could see the muscles of his forearms knot and flex. They sat almost shoulder to shoulder in the compact space that smelled of leather and oil. It was her nervousness that made her suddenly queasy, and she hoped again she wouldn’t get sick. Her hands shook slightly as she followed his instructions to buckle her seat belt. Next he handed her a set of headphones.
“It gets pretty darn noisy up there,” he told her. “Deafening, actually. You’ll want these. I’ve set it to internal conversation on the radio so we can talk to each other.”
Lovie put on the headset and Dr. Bennett bent close to adjust the fit. Inches from his face, she couldn’t help but notice that his lower lip was fuller than his upper and that he’d missed a small spot on his chin when he’d shaved. She could smell his soapy shaving cream in the small space between them. No cologne. It was subtle . . . nice.
For the next several minutes, Lovie sat quietly while Dr. Bennett focused on his instruments. There was a spread of gauges with red and green lights. He flipped switches with confidence and checked monitors and other things that only a pilot would understand, but it was impressive to watch. Once again, she had the time to wonder about the life he led outside work. Or even if he had much of a personal life. He seemed a candidate for the all-work-and-no-play type.
At last he looked over, smiled, and gave her a thumbs-up.
Lovie forced a grin and faced the runway. She took a deep, calming breath, and they began to move forward. They taxied to the end of the runway and slowly made the turn. All at once the engine began revving loudly. She clutched the seat as they gained speed and said a quick prayer.
Suddenly the plane was off the ground, and in another instant they were airborne, high above trees that looked like broccoli. She released her breath, saying, “Wow . . .”
Dr. Bennett laughed under his breath and she remembered that she was on the radio. She turned to face him, flushing slightly, but he seemed pleased that she was enjoying herself.
Lovie never knew she could feel such freedom. They soared into the sky like a large bird and, unlike in a commercial airplane, she felt she was part of the sky, not simply a passenger traveling through it. It was akin to riding on a small boat in the Intracoastal, skimming close to the water, racing against the current. Or what she imagined riding on a motorcycle might be, rather than in a car. It was noisy, to be sure, but more intimate. More thrilling.
Dr. Bennett banked and in a burst of color and light, the sparkling blue ocean spread out before her. She looked down through her window at the long line of white beaches. The rolling surf cut a ruffled edge on the sand that was bordered on the opposite side with green foliage. The beach looked like the fringe of lace sticking out from a green velvet coat.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” she replied, grinning. “It’s exciting. And I can see so much! I had no idea. There’s the maritime forest,” she exclaimed. Then, as they drew nearer, she startled and pointed excitedly. “Look, Dr. Bennett. Tracks! I see a set right there . . . wait, there’s another. Two sets of tracks!”
He nodded, pleased. “They must be fresh this morning. The rain yesterday would have wiped out any from the day before. Hold on. I’m going lower. It might get a little bumpy.”
Lovie peered out the window as he lowered the plane to what couldn’t have been much more than two hundred feet over the sand. The plane did, indeed, bump.
“How low do you plan on going?” she asked, slightly alarmed.
“I have a rule not to get the engine wet with salt water,” he replied, then chuckled.
Lower, it felt to her like they were going much faster, racing along the coast.
“I can see everything!” she exclaimed.
“Yep,” he replied. “I can identify turtles from up here. I’ve seen turtles mating. There’s usually another male stalking the mating pair. It can get pretty tempestuous. We can do surveys of breeding grounds up here, which is important to assess populations.” He reached out, pointing to the beach. “There’s another track.”
Lovie’s gaze darted to the beach, excited. “And look!” She laughed in delight. “There’s Flo! She’s waving. She doesn’t know it’s us.” Lovie began wildly waving back, laughing when she saw Flo’s shocked expression of recognition as Dr. Bennett tipped the wing.
Lovie sat back in the seat, grinning. “It’s not often I catch that expression on Flo’s face.”
“Have you been friends long?”
“Since childhood. We’re two peas in a pod.”
“Really? I would have said you were quite different.”
Lovie raised her brows. She knew this was true but was curious what he picked up on. “How so?”
“I don’t know either of you very well, so take anything I say with a grain of salt. But Flo is very direct. Outspoken. You know right away where you stand with her.”
“And me?”
“You’re harder to figure out. One minute you’re a soft-spoken lady and the next you’re a firebrand ready and willing to take my head off.”
Lovie chuckled. “I am not . . .”
He nodded, smiling. “You’re passionate. At least about turtles. I like that.”
Lovie sighed and said ruefully, “I wish my husband did.”
Dr. Bennett swung his head to look at her and said with a crooked smile, “I wish my wife did.”
Their gazes met and they both laughed again, enjoying the discovery of common ground.
Dr. Bennett turned to look over his shoulder. “Okay, let’s take a look at Sullivan’s Island.”
As the plane banked, Lovie felt a bit woozy. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on the beach, not her flipping stomach. As he brought the plane a few hundred feet higher, the ride was smoother. From where she was perched in the sky she could see Sullivan’s Island spread out before her and in a flash understood Mayor Clarke’s enthusiasm. They spotted only one set of turtle tracks on this island, then turned and made the round-trip, circling the Isle of Palms on the back side where several docks jutted out into the racing water of Hamlin Creek.
“I might know this island like the back of my hand when I’m on foot, but it’s another world up here,” she told him. “A completely different perspective. You’re right. I needed to see it. Have you always flown?”
He nodded. “I caught the bug young. My father loved to fly. He’d take us to places from Richmond regularly.”
“Ah, so you’re one of the Richmond Bennetts?”
“Guilty as charged. But I spend precious little time there. My base is in Florida where I teach, and my research work with sea turtles takes me all over the world. The Caribbean, Honduras, South America, Africa.”
“You don’t fly in this plane, I hope!”
He laughed. “Well, I fly this Cessna everywhere I can. I’ll be flying back and forth from here to Florida all summer so I can keep up with my project there. You’d be surprised how far I can go in this baby. I bought her three years ago. She’s a good machine,” he added, patting the wheel. “But no, I take commercial internationally and hire a small plane when I’m there. Well, that’s not entirely true,” he caught himself. “I fly to the islands all the time. My family has a place in Bermuda.”
“I’ve never been.”
“It’s a beautiful place. Pink-shelled beaches. Pristine. Very British. My wife loves it there.”
Aha. “What’s her name?”
“Eleanor. She flies, too. Or at least she can. I think she originally thought if she wanted to be with me while I traveled on research, she might as well be my copilot. So she took lessons. We used to travel together quite a lot.” He shrugged. “We were younger. But now, it’s difficult with Pippi in school and her boards and committees.”
She wondered at the slight change in tone. “I can sympathize. My husband travels a lot, too. He’s in the import-export business. I used to want to go with him on his trips, but . . . well, I suppose someone has to be the rock at home, and it’s usually the woman, right?”
Ahead, she saw the runway and felt a twinge of regret that her first flight was coming to an end.
“Thank you, Dr. Bennett,” she said with sincerity, “for insisting I come.”
“I thought for a minute you were going to bail.”
“You thought right.”
“I’d be delighted to take you up again.”
“Maybe,” she replied. “My stomach might not agree, however.”
He looked stricken. “You get sick? I wish you’d told me. That happens sometimes when we fly low. We hit some convection.”
“That’s okay. It’s me. I’m not good on boats, either. It’s all that rocking. I’m best with my feet on terra firma. But I thank you for the offer. I really enjoyed today. It was glorious, more so than I’d expected. And it gives me a much better sense of how to divvy up the island.”
“Exactly,” he said, excited at the prospect. “The way I see it, we’ll need to carve up the island into sectors, then send out volunteers to walk them in the morning.”
“That’s a lot of beach,” she told him. She was calm, accustomed to the challenge of getting the turtle nests patrolled on the island. “To cover all that distance and mark the nests, we’ll need a bigger group of volunteers than the dozen we have now.”
“Double. Maybe triple,” he agreed.
“I hate to tell you this, but I was surprised to see you got a dozen volunteers. I’ve been trying for years to get a group started, with little luck. How do you propose getting . . .” She paused, doing the math. “Thirty-six?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d tell me. We both know the likelihood of volunteers skipping a day or dropping out entirely will be high if we don’t. What kept you going?”
“It was the unknown. The curiosity of wondering did she come last night? Will I find a nest? Seeing the data compile over the months. I think once the volunteers catch the spirit of the hunt, they won’t skip.”
“Not all people are like you, Mrs. Rutledge. Let’s just make that a given. Still, I’d like to make it as easy and pleasant for the volunteers as possible. With more volunteers, we can have smaller stretches of beach marked off and fewer days for the volunteers to walk. That would limit the probability of missing a day of survey.”
Lovie was enjoying the discussion, the possibilities, of a project she held dear. “We could ask each woman who signed up to try and get two or more friends to sign up. We’re a close-knit group on the island. Why don’t you let me take over this part? I know the island and I know the women.”
“Great. The volunteers are all yours. Here’s the thing. We’ll need to move fast. I want those teams on the beach this week. According to your records, you already have four nests. Plus the two below.” He rubbed his jaw in consternation. “I should’ve been here weeks ago.”
“Me, too.”
They shared a commiserating glance, smiling. They both were enjoying the straightforward talk and the shared eagerness to get to work. She felt she could work with him and learn a great deal in the process.
Then she was ignored as his attention returned entirely to his instruments. He appeared completely at ease at the wheel, confident and efficient. Lovie no longer felt afraid. As they approached the runway, he began flipping switches and talking on his radio. Lovie remained silent at his side. As smoothly as they’d taken off, they landed.
She stretched her legs, feeling the movement in her blood and hearing a soft buzzing in her ears as she stood on the mowed, grassy airfield. Dr. Bennett spent awhile with his plane while she stood by and watched another plane taxi into position, rev the power, and gracefully take off into the sky. She raised her hand like a visor to watch.
“All done. Ready to go?” he asked, coming at last beside her.
They walked at a more leisurely pace back to the Jeep. He was true to his word and minded his manners, opening the car door and helping her to her seat. When they were driving down Palm Boulevard, he was all business once again.
“I’d like to go ahead and start partitioning the sections of the beach. Call me an optimist. When do you think we’ll get more volunteers?”
“The phone tree is in action. I’m hoping for more today. Flo’s fielding the calls.”
“Good. Let’s table that for later today. We’d better get right to the beach. Time’s a-wastin’ and we need to check out those tracks we spotted. And while we’re at it, I want to see how you mark the nests.”
“What? You think I’m not doing it right?”
He smirked. “If I say yes, do I get my head chopped off?”
“Perhaps,” she replied, but she had to smile. “You just wait and see. I’m pretty proud of my system. It’s worked for me, anyway.”
“Well, let’s go.”
“I need to check on my kids first. They were sleeping when I left.”
He looked at his watch. “Okay. But quickly, okay? We really need to check those nests before it gets hot out there. There’s a small window of opportunity to move the nest.”
She swung her head to look at him, stunned. “Move a nest?”
“Right,” he
replied, eyes on the road.
“You can move a nest?” she repeated, trying to get it straight in her head. She’d never even considered moving a nest. To her mind, nests were to be observed only.
“Under specific circumstances,” he said. “I take it you’ve never done this?”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t presume.”
“That’s fair. Good answer, actually,” he said, glancing from the road. He smiled in a tease. “So it looks like I might have a few things to teach you after all.”
She smirked, enjoying the banter, and looked at the road ahead. “Perhaps a very few things.”
“Mama, you’re back!”
“Yes, but just for a minute,” she said, setting her backpack on the kitchen table. Cara was slouched in her Wonder Woman pajamas, one long leg bent at the knee with her foot resting on the chair, eating a bowl of cereal while reading a book. “Cara, you’re not dressed yet!”
Cara only shrugged and craned her neck to peer around her mother. “Who’s that?” she asked, still chewing.
Lovie turned to see Dr. Bennett following her, his steps measured as he entered the kitchen. The moment he spotted Cara, he smiled and his blue eyes kindled with warmth. “Hi.”
“Cara, this is Dr. Russell Bennett, the man in charge of the summer’s sea turtle project. Remember, I told you about that? And this is my daughter, Cara, still, sadly, in her pajamas.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Cara.”
Cara was chewing her cereal but her dark eyes were fixed on Dr. Bennett. It was clear she needed time to make up her mind about him.
“Where’s your brother?” Lovie asked Cara, drawing her attention. Lovie was embarrassed for her daughter’s rude staring.
“Still in his room.” She scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
“Lord, what am I going to do with you two?” Lovie muttered, putting one hand on her forehead as she thought. She’d only be gone a short while and the children were old enough to leave alone for an hour or so. “Listen, Cara, I’m going to the north beach with Dr. Bennett to mark the two nests we saw in the plane.”
Beach House Memories Page 12
