by Jim Dalton
“Heather,” he said to her, “you see Mike yet tonight?”
“He passed through a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks. He’s probably in the office.”
As Lucas continued through the lobby, he waved at a couple of transient pilots waiting on a nearby couch. Curious about a beautiful Falcon Jet on the ramp, Lucas stopped for some lighthearted pilot conversation.
Lucas asked one of the pilots, “You guys flying the Falcon?”
The other pilot responded with a definitive “Yes,” spoken like a proud father.
“It’s a beauty. I love the paint job.”
“Yeah, we get lots of compliments.”
“Who you guys fly for?”
“The plane is owned by Pete Rosco, but today we have his daughter and son-in-law on board. They’re at the ballgame. Who do you drive for? And what do you drive?”
“I fly for State Side and tonight I’m flying a Convair 440, but I also fly their King Airs, Lears, and Cessna Jets. A nice job, but I’m scheduled to go to Global shortly. Looks like they’re changing my start date, but that has to be worked out.”
“Quite a contrast in rides. You know, moving over to a scheduled carrier your life will become one big schedule. What’s your name?”
“Lucas. Lucas Sanders.”
“My name is Buddy,” the first pilot said. “My partner is David. Say hi, David.”
“Hi, David,” David replied with a smile. “OK; hi, Lucas Sanders. Sorry about that; just couldn’t resist.”
“How old are you, Mr. Lucas Sanders?” Buddy asked.
“Twenty-nine. Wish I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that question.”
“You do look young, but that isn’t why I asked. I just wondered how long you’ve been in this racket. Airline jobs are good, but so is the one you have. Don’t be too quick to jump ship.”
“I hear ya, but for now I feel compelled to press on. Buddy, David: nice talking with you; I have to finish preparing for tonight’s flight. Have a good flight home. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again.”
“See ya, Lucas. Have a safe flight.”
Lucas headed for the office to check in before the routine preflight checks to the Convair.
En route to his office, Lucas once again passed directly in front of Heather. This time, he didn’t say a word. Heather’s demeanor was one of frustration with disappointment written across her face as she reluctantly watched Lucas disappear without saying anything to him.
Upon entering the flight office, Lucas greeted Mike with a big, upbeat “How ya doing tonight, Mike?”
Mike responded in a warm and friendly manner: “Hello, ready for a rough ride tonight?”
“Sure, we can handle it. Because of the weather, I’m going to ask line service to add another hundred gallons of fuel to both sides—just in case.”
“Good idea.”
“Mike, I’m going to run out and do the preflight and take care of the fuel—anything else you can think I should do? I already filled the thermos with coffee.”
“No,” Mike said. “Not that I can think of.”
Just prior to Lucas leaving the flight office at Gold Coast Aviation to perform the preflight, Mike looked up at Lucas and said, “Heather asked if she could go with us tonight and I told her she could.”
Lucas responded abruptly, saying, “Why would you allow that?” I can’t have Autumn and Heather in my world. I will have to be on guard all night.
“We take guests with us all the time.”
“Sure we do, but why Heather?”
“Because she asked if she could go with us tonight. Besides, we both know why she wants to go for a ride. She’s wanted to jump your bones for as long as I can remember, and everybody around here knows it. Surely this is no surprise to you, is it?”
“I know, and that’s exactly why she shouldn’t come with us. Besides, you know we have weather on this trip! Neither of us needs a distraction.”
“Come on, Lucas! What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t have time for romance! I fly all night and go to school all day. Look, I have an airline job waiting for me after school, and I can’t screw that up.”
“Lucas, have you really looked at this young lady? She is a knockout—she has legs that any guy would love to stroke, the face of a china doll, the innocence of a twelve-year-old looking for her first kiss—there are hundreds of guys in the Midwest who would love to be in your shoes. Besides, what does any of this have to do with Global?”
“First, she isn’t a young lady; she’s a twenty-one-year-old kid. Secondly—”
“And how old are you, you ungrateful shit?” Mike interrupted. “If you got your dipstick wet a little more often, you wouldn’t be so uptight.”
“I’m not uptight; I’m busy.”
“Too busy for a romp between the sheets with the most beautiful woman you’ll ever meet?”
“Fuck you, Mike! I don’t care what she has between her legs. I don’t have time for that kind of distraction.”
“Lucas, will you listen to yourself? Heather is going for a ride with us. No one is asking you to start dating.”
Lucas raised his voice: “I understand that, but this is nothing more than a ploy on her part to get something going, and I don’t appreciate her abusing you, our friendship, and our willingness to take people for rides.”
With that comment, Lucas turned and headed for the office door.
“Lucas,” called Mike, “come back here. Does your reaction to Heather have anything to do with the accident?”
Lucas immediately stopped in his tracks. While processing Mike’s words, he stared down at the floor. Removing his hand from the doorknob, he turned to partially face Mike. “Maybe,” he said. “Have you noticed the similarity between Heather and Morgan too?”
“I have, but I thought that accident was behind you.”
“It will never be behind me. I look at Heather, or any attractive girl, and I can still see Morgan lying in the street in a pool of blood. There was nothing I could do for her. Here I am four years later, and I’m still helpless.”
“We’ve talked about this before, Lucas, and you just can’t continue blaming yourself for what happened.”
“I know that. I do know that, but I can’t live through anything like that again. And Heather is so much like Morgan they could be twins. When I see Heather pressing for attention, all I see is Morgan insisting that I take her for a ride on my motorcycle. I see that car pulling out in front of us. I can still hear the tires squealing and the sound of metal as it crumpled beneath me. Here I am with a bright future, and Morgan has never seen another sunrise or sunset. I can’t just dismiss that event. It took Morgan’s life, and changed me forever.”
“Look, Lucas,” Mike said. “I can’t sit here and tell you to forget what happened. I know that will never happen—but you must not let that accident destroy two lives, and I’m afraid that’s what’s happening. Life isn’t fair. For all we know, we may not return from our flight tonight. If we make it back to St. Louis, something could still happen to either of us on our way home. If you’re going to do anything, recognize that life is precious and that you should live it to its fullest—appreciate what you have, who you are, your friends, and don’t overlook the people who may be a part of your future.”
“I know that, Mike, but if I let Heather—or anyone—into my life, I would feel like I was betraying Morgan. That would be more than I could live with.”
After saying that, Lucas spent a speechless moment just looking at the floor. Finally, he turned back to Mike and said, “Hey, we need to change the subject. Besides, I need to get some stuff done before we can leave.”
“I got ya. Just think about what I said, Lucas.”
With those parting words, Lucas opened the door and headed straight to the Convair.
With preflight completed and departure time approaching, Lucas settled into the copilot seat, fastened his belt, and began to arrange his office in the sky. As Luca
s finished his cockpit routine, he could hear Mike and Heather enter the plane, followed by Mike raising the stair and locking the door. Mike appeared over Lucas’s left shoulder as he entered the cockpit with Heather close behind. Although a tight fit, Lucas didn’t even acknowledge Heather’s presence.
Lucas had his flying face on, and began to put order to the commotion that took place as Mike and Heather arrived.
“Mike,” he said, “we’re ready to roll. Heather, if you hang on for just a second I’ll get that jump seat set up for you as soon as I get our clearance.”
Lucas: “Clearance delivery, this is Convair three-seven-one-three-papa, IFR to Dallas.”
Controller: “Convair three-seven-one-three-papa cleared as filed. Departure will be one-one-nine-point-nine—squawk zero-seven-five-eight.”
Lucas: “That’s Convair thirty-seven-thirteen-papa, cleared as filed— squawk zero-seven-five-eight and departure one-one-nine-point-nine.”
Controller: “Read-back correct. Contact ground when ready to taxi.”
Lucas: “One-three-papa.”
Looking over his left shoulder, Lucas said, “Heather, if you can move up on this ledge, I’ll drop the jump seat for you.”
As Heather followed his instructions, Lucas’s left arm brushed the backs of her legs as he dropped the seat. She was excited knowing that she was going to spend the next five hours just inches from him—the person she’d had a crush on for months.
Seat in place, Heather and Mike buckled their belts and settled in for their departure.
Lucas thought to himself, This is almost more than I can take. I don’t have any interest in entertaining this chick tonight or any night. Although—and I’d never admit this to Mike—she is a looker. Her innocent, young, fresh appearance would qualify her as a spokesperson for the milk industry. Besides, what was she thinking, wearing that loose-fitting miniskirt up here? Therein lies the problem—she wasn’t thinking. Screw her. I have one task, and that is to get to Dallas and back home safely.
“Mike, you ready to go?” Lucas asked aloud.
“Let’s do it.”
Lucas began reading the checklist to Mike: “OK, starter selector is on the right, door lights out, got the manifold pressure reading. Ramp agent is giving me a thumbs-up on the right—let her crank on the right.”
Following that command, Mike engaged the starter on the right engine and the mammoth-sized propeller began to turn. During that phase, Lucas monitored the turning propeller. “There’s one blade,” he said, “two, three, four, five, six, seven…twelve and ignition.”
Shortly after Lucas called for ignition, the engine roared to life, with a heavy cloud of smoke billowing from the exhaust.
“Mike, it’s yours for the left side.”
After Mike went through a similar routine on the left side, Lucas announced: “Both are fired up and it looks like we’re about ready. I’ll finish the checklist and we can go. Booster pump and external power is off, cowl flaps open, starter arm normal, door warning lights are out. Checklist completed.”
Mike said, in an authoritative voice, “OK, Lucas; let’s get this show on the road. Why don’t I take the leg to Dallas and you can bring her home?”
“Sounds good,” responded Lucas.
Lucas: “Ground control, this is Convair thirty-seven-thirteen-papa, IFR to Dallas at Gold Coast: ready to taxi with information bravo.”
The ground controller responded by saying, “Convair three-seven-one-three-papa, taxi to runway three-zero left.”
“Roger, three-zero left, one-three-papa,” responded Lucas.
The Convair slowly pulled from its parking place and began its journey to runway three-zero left. Once out of the ramp area, the landing lights were turned off and the plane continued with a slow, lumbering pace between the dimly lit blue taxiway lights.
While Mike and Lucas went through their routine, Heather sat in stunned silence, speechless as she watched two people bring a machine to life. They were about to take her into what appeared to be a boundless night. She now saw Mike and Lucas in a completely different light. She had seen them both as they moved about the lobby area, but never before in such a mesmerizing setting. Watching Mike and Lucas work together was breathtaking—each seemed to know what the other was going to do before he did it.
Now Heather’s focus lingered on Lucas, hardly aware that Mike was even present. Heather realized that her feelings for Lucas were about to soar to new levels. It may have been Lucas’s mystique that originally captured her interest, but now Heather was about to witness this trim, good-looking guy perform magic as he took her into the waiting night sky.
Despite Lucas being unhappy about Heather joining them, he didn’t feel any urge to worry her about the potential rough ride ahead, so he decided to discuss the weather as obscurely as possible while remaining able to navigate through or around the storms.
“So, Mike,” he said. “Based on the latest radar summary, do you feel like we may need to go a little south of our course to Tulsa?”
“Looked like it, but you know those cells are likely to move by the time we reach that area.”
“You can count on it,” responded Lucas. “I saw in the logbook that the radar had been repaired—thank God for that!”
Mike pulled the Convair onto the run-up pad just short of the runway and began the engine run-up phase of the checklist. Lucas, with checklist in hand, began to read and respond to portions of it.
“Fuel, water on, and oil: check; flaps set; generators and inverters: check; radios: check; flight instruments: check; engine instruments—” Lucas glanced at the BMEP instrument and then quickly away.
Oh my god! What now? Not wanting to call undue attention to his observation, he forced his eyes back to the checklist. Lucas still couldn’t believe his eyes—the jump seat was positioned so that the occupant’s legs straddled the rear component of the center console. I look at the BMEP instrument and I don’t see an instrument! he thought. Instead, I see the reflection of legs—long, smooth legs—and I can’t tell for sure, but I don’t think there are panties at the north end of those beautiful legs. I have to spend the next five hours seeing this. Stay focused, stay focused, stay focused! Back to the checklist.
“Engine instruments: check,” he said. “Carb heat: check and cold. Cowl flaps: mid. Ready to roll on my side, Mike! You?”
“Ready. Let’s do it,” responded Mike.
Lucas changed his radio frequency from ground control to the tower and said, “Tower: Convair three-seven-one-three-papa. The captain says he has his courage up, so we’re ready to go on three-zero left.”
Controller: “Convair three-seven-one-three-papa: turn left to two-four-zero. Cleared for takeoff.”
Lucas: “That’s left to two-four-zero, one-three-papa’s rolling.”
“OK, let’s go,” said Lucas. “Heather, got your belt on?”
“Sure do!”
“Landing light on,” Lucas announced as he reached for one of the many switches on the overhead panel.
Mike told Lucas that the plane was his, and then wiggled the control wheel to avoid any confusion about who was flying the plane.
One-three-papa pulled onto the runway and, with the throttles advanced to takeoff power, all the instruments began to dance in perfect harmony.
During the takeoff roll, Lucas monitored various engine and flight instruments as well as the runway environment. The BMEP instrument was one of those engine instruments that had to be monitored regularly during this phase of flight. Although Lucas’s attention moved between many instruments and tasks during this phase of takeoff, he couldn’t help but hesitate when he noticed his perfect view up Heather’s skirt. The obscure lighting was the only thing preventing him from confirming whether or not she had panties on. Even so, he could feel his dick respond as his imagination toyed with the uncertainty.
As the plane rapidly accelerated, Heather thought to herself that she had never seen anything like this. So much was going on that it t
ook the attention of two people, and yet it appeared effortless to the casual passenger. She wondered how she could ever repay Mike for allowing her to make this trip. The only thing, she thought, that would make it even better would be getting a little attention from Lucas. She decided to try and be content with herself occupying a small piece of his world.
The control tower operator said, “Convair three-seven-one-three-papa: contact departure on one-one-nine-point-nine. Have a nice flight.”
Lucas responded, “Roger, one-three-papa. You have a good one, too. Departure control, this is three-seven-one-three-papa with ya, climbing through two thousand.”
“Three-seven-one-three-papa, this is departure. Proceed on course.”
“One-three-papa. Mike, I’m going to work with the radar and see if I can’t get a better feel for where we’re going to encounter those thunderstorms.”
Lucas knew that if he could focus on one thing—like the radar—he was much less likely to try to figure out whether or not Heather was wearing panties.
This is exactly why I don’t need these kinds of distractions in my life, Lucas thought. We have weather to deal with, and I’m sitting here getting a boner just thinking about some gal and what she may not be wearing. Come to think of it, Autumn didn’t have panties on the last time we did the deed; I’m betting Heather doesn’t either. No panties—maybe I don’t understand what customer service reps do. Anyway, there will be plenty of time for the ladies when I get out of school and get on with Global.
Lucas always scanned the engine instruments along with the flight instruments, even if he wasn’t flying the plane. Every time his scan included the BMEP, there Heather was in all her glory, exposed to the world from the waist down. Her dark, obscure reflection stimulated Lucas’s curiosity—as well as other things. I can’t help but wonder what is being concealed by the darkness, he thought.
While Lucas tried to get a good fix on the weather, Mike focused on flying the plane, with an occasional lapse into a trancelike state as he reflected on other events in his life. When this happened, Mike was oblivious to anything going on around him. Such behavior was typical for Mike, and Lucas knew about his tendency to allow his mind to wander. Lucas believed that Mike’s short attention span was, at its core, due to the drinking problem that he’d had for years.
