by T. E. Cruise
She fell asleep smiling, thinking that tomorrow would be the beginning and the end of it. Her darling aviator with his funny hat, his curly red hair, and devilish moustache was like a forbidden novel, thrilling for the brief duration, but when it was over she could forget the unfamiliar and unsettling emotions stirred up deep inside her.
(Three)
That night in his hotel room, Gold tossed and turned. Every time he dozed off he was tormented by fleeting fantasy-dreams of Erica Schuler. He gave up on sleep at dawn; showered and shaved. The hotel dinning room wouldn’t be open for hours, but by now Gold had been in enough American small towns to know how things worked. He left the hotel and walked along the quiet, tree-lined streets until he came to the muddy, slow-moving Blue River. He crossed a narrow footbridge to the poor side of town near the railroad yard and police headquarters. A few blocks from the station he found a cafe filled with cops and rail yard laborers having their breakfast before beginning their shift.
He sat at the counter and had bacon and eggs, and three cups of black coffee to banish last night’s cobwebs. Yes, Erica was a beautiful girl. A very special kind of girl, but he might as well forget her, just as she had doubtless already forgotten him. Today was the troupe’s last performance in Doreen. By tomorrow afternoon he’d be flying west to the next show site, and he would never see Erica Schuler again.
Back at the hotel Gold ran into Jimmy Cooper the advance man and caught a ride with him out to the show site. The morning wore on, and the first of the spectators began to filter in. Gold was up on a stepladder, leaning over the Hisso, when he heard shouting. He looked toward the entrance to the show site. Tearing up the road toward them, sending up a huge dust cloud in its wake, was a cherry red Pierce-Arrow roadster—
The Pierce-Arrow, Gold thought, grinning. How many seven-thousand-dollar, bright red roadsters could there be in staid Doreen, Nebraska?
Gold watched, amused, as Erica Schuler expertly downshifted to throw the roadster into a sharp turn and through the entrance to the show site. She stepped on the gas, ignoring Jimmy Cooper’s outraged shouts, and headed straight for Gold, arrogantly blaring her horn to scatter pedestrians and expertly swerving with a minimum of effort to avoid the parked airplanes and trucks in her path. As she closed on Gold she threw the roadster into a controlled, sideways skid, coming to a stop parallel with his airplane, with just inches to spare in a shower of dirt and gray engine exhaust.
She killed the ignition, and hoisted herself out of the ticking roadster without opening its door. She was wearing a white, long-sleeved blouse, and tan, snug jodhpurs tucked into riding boots. Gold saw her breasts heave, and enjoyed the curve of her ass as she swung her agile legs up and over the roadster’s low sill.
“I came for my airplane ride in your red machine,” Erica announced. “A real ride! Not one of those old-lady rides I got yesterday.”
Gold pretended to frown, shaking his head. “But you lost your bet.”
She made a face. “I never lose, and if I do, I make people give in. Now, do I get my ride, or do I have to get tough with you, Herr Count?”
“You don’t need an airplane to fly. You were almost off the ground in your own red machine,” Gold said admiringly. “Lady, you can drive!”
“I bet I could fly your airplane, too,” she bragged.
Gold laughed. “I bet you could, given half a chance, but today I guess I’d better do the flying. It’ll be a few minutes to get her ready.” Gold came down off the ladder. “I’ll fetch you some flying gear.”
“I didn’t need flying gear last time,” Erica remarked.
“Last time you didn’t fly with me.”
At the parts trailer he nabbed a couple of mechanics and asked them to gas up the Jenny. Next he rummaged around in the trailer and came up with a spare set of goggles, and a light, leather jacket to protect Erica against the wind. As he was walking back to the Jenny with the gear, Captain Bob intercepted him.
The Captain pointed to Erica, who had already climbed up into the Jenny’s front passenger cockpit. “What’s going on, son?”
“Taking a customer for a ride,” Gold remarked, trying to sound casual about it all.
Captain Bob chewed thoughtfully on his big brown stogie. “Thought you told me you didn’t want the Hisso used for rides.” He squinted at Erica. “Nice-looking girl.”
“I didn’t really notice, Cap…,” Gold said lamely.
The captain mournfully shook his head. “Don’t try to kid a kidder, son. You got the look of an eagle about to have salt sprinkled on his tail.”
“Remember now, I want a real barnstorming ride!” Erica shouted over the noise of the Hisso engine as Gold made sure she was securely strapped into the forward cockpit.
Gold winked at her. “Once we’re up there, don’t worry, you can scream all you want.” He grinned at her.
“Bet I don’t!” she replied. She held out her hand for him to shake on the bet, and, when he did, he thought she gave his fingers an extra, lingering squeeze.
He taxied into the wind for an easy takeoff, letting the Hisso warm up, and keeping an eye on his water temperature gauge. Then he lifted them off into the clear blue sky. He banked gently as he began to climb for altitude; for all of his teasing, he really didn’t want to frighten Erica.
“Faster!” Erica shouted. Her voice carried back to him on the wind. It was no use trying to talk to her, she’d never hear him over the engine racket.
Action would have to speak for him, Gold decided. If she wanted a barnstormer’s ride, then that was what she was going to get.
He put the Jenny into a severe right bank—the horizon tilted sharply—and he heard Erica cry out in surprise as he felt his own stomach do a backflip. Next came a series of rolls. Over and over the Jenny went, earth and sky pin-wheeling before them.
Erica was shrieking now loudly, but laughing as well. Gold was laughing too. The scarlet Jenny slashed its presence across the sky.
He prolonged the flight for as long as possible, hugely enjoying himself, and Jackie’s reaction. As they were flying upside down, Erica’s hair came undone and began to whip around in the wind. He turned the airplane right side up and went into an Immelman loop that made her howl. Gold laughed and laughed. There were no other planes in the sky. Everyone was watching as Gold took Erica for their sky dance. It was the most passionately exciting moment of his life. For this precious instant, not only the sky, but this magnificent woman, was his.
Finally Gold brought the Jenny down. After all the airborne excitement, he wanted to further impress Erica by the smoothest possible landing. As he dropped the airplane he throttled down the engine and pulled back the nose, until he had the wings angled just at the threshold of a stall. A foot or so above the ground he coaxed the nose back a little more. The Jenny lost her lift, plopping down in a perfect three-point landing. He cut the Hisso to roll to a stop where Erica’s roadster was parked, and, in the ensuing rush of silence, heard Erica sobbing.
She twisted around toward him, removing her goggles. Her eyes were wet; tears had streaked tracks down her dusty cheeks.
“I’ve frightened you too much!” Gold exclaimed, removing his own goggles, unbuckling his harness, and getting out of the cockpit.
“No.” Her tousled blonde hair shimmered as she shook her head. “It was just so beautiful and wonderful!— Was that all the tricks you know?”
“Not really.” Gold smiled as he unbuckled her harness. “But it’s every stunt I’d risk in the Jenny, taking into account your extra weight on board. Every airplane is different. They’re like cars. You can do things in your roadster that you couldn’t do in your father’s Cadillac.”
Erica’s arms went around his neck as he lifted her out of the plane. She held on to him even after he’d set her down, hugging him, murmuring into his chest. “It was so gloriously wonderful and beautiful it made me cry! It was like being with the angels.”
“You’re the angel,” Gold told her softly.
S
he rose up on her toes to kiss him. Gold, trembling, held her gingerly, sheltering her in his arms as she pressed against him.
“I wish you weren’t leaving,” he thought he heard her whisper. Or maybe he only imagined it, because that was what he so desperately wanted to hear.
All during the rest of the air show Erica Schuler was in a daze. She didn’t really care if she saw the rest of the performance, but something was keeping her from leaving this place where the airplanes flew; keeping her from leaving Herman. After all, after today, she would never see him again.
Now it was time for Herman’s performance as the Red Baron. She would stay to see him fly the scarlet Jenny this final time. Then she would leave, quickly and quietly, to spare them both the pain of farewell.
As she watched Herman soar across the sky she kept replaying in her mind the magnificent sensations of her own flight. As they’d tumbled through the sky she’d felt free as a bird, like a goddess. As a child she’d been an excellent horseback rider, and she’d become an accomplished motorcar driver. Perfecting these skills had made her feel vibrantly alive, but neither horses nor cars could compare to the scary, giddy thrill of flight.
She thought about Herman as she watched his scarlet airplane slide and soar, pursued by the trio of flying machines wearing America’s red, white, and blue. How masterfully was he handling the airplane! How masterful had he been with her in the air. She thought about how easy and how exciting it was to be with him.
And then she reminded herself that he was leaving. Herman Gold was bound for great adventures, and she was staying right here in good old Doreen, Nebraska.
She watched the closing moments of Herman’s performance, wondering why she was torturing herself by sticking around. As he did yesterday, Herman outmaneuvered his attackers. The drummer standing next to Captain Bob beat his instrument, and one of the striped machines spilled smoke and fell toward the ground.
Erica watched as Herman allowed the remaining two planes to settle on his tail, heard the drum go rat-a-tat, and saw fire and smoke envelop the scarlet plane.
She’d seen it all before, knew that it was just pretend. Still, she couldn’t help feeling afraid as she watched Herman’s plane, spilling light and smoke, seemingly fall from the sky. The scarlet airplane was fluttering down like an autumn leaf from the highest bough of the big oak tree outside her bedroom window.
The smoke ended, and the flares mounted under the scarlet plane’s wings sputtered out, but still the airplane fell. It seemed to Erica that the plane was falling for a long time, that yesterday it hadn’t spiraled earthward for nearly so long.
One of the pilots standing nearby blurted, “Christ, something’s wrong!”
Oh, God, Erica thought. Oh, God—
Gold had gotten the idea while he was running his preperformance maintenance check on the Hisso Jenny. He toyed with the notion while he was waiting for his cue to take off. Halfway through the performance he’d dismissed the idea, with relief, as just too crazy and dangerous.
As he went into his falling leaf/power dive finale he remembered Erica’s kiss, and knew he was going to do it.
He stopped brooding. He was going to need all of his concentration and every bit of flying skill to purposely crash his plane without totally destroying it—
Or himself.
He let the wafting Jenny stall and go into a spin. As the airplane tumbled, Gold clenched his teeth, struggling against the stomach-churning vertigo. The last time he’d crashed an airplane he’d come out of it with broken legs. “You were lucky…,” the field hospital orderly had told him. “…It could have been a broken back…Could have been a broken neck.”
He waited until the last possible second of the spin and then wrestled the Jenny’s nose down to regain stability and control. The earth was hurtling up as he leveled out, barely skimming above the field. He cut the engine and let the Jenny down hard, in that instant thinking that he wasn’t the first, and likely wouldn’t be the last, damn fool to kill himself for love—
It all happened in seconds. Erica watched, breathless, as the scarlet airplane stopped its tumble and nosedived toward the ground, its engine roaring as if in torment.
“Everybody stay back!” Captain Bob was trumpeting through his megaphone. “He’s going to hit harrddd!” The Captain’s voice rose in hysterical alarm.
Horror-struck, Erica watched the scarlet plane’s nose rise in the nick of time. She heard its engine die as it slammed the earth, plowing a furrow with its nose and cracking off its propeller. The plane, spewing smoke from its engine, rose up like a trout leaping from a stream. It came down again, blowing its right tire and splintering the wooden landing gear, sliding along on its right wing. There was a loud cracking as the wing broke. The plane whipped around and came to rest in a cloud of dust.
People began running toward the crashed plane. Erica couldn’t move. She just stood and stared at the cockpit until she saw Herman, in that ridiculous, bright red, patent-leather helmet, wave to his would-be rescuers. He hopped out of the broken flying machine’s cockpit and walked away.
Erica found herself sobbing with joy for the second time that day.
* * *
Herman stood in the shade cast by the parts trailer, listening as the chief mechanic reported to Captain Bob on the damage to the Hisso Jenny.
“The engine took a beating, Cap.” The mechanic scowled. “Just how bad, I can’t say. In addition, she needs a new prop, radiator, landing gear and a rebuilt right wing.”
A grounded eagle, all right, Gold thought, but had the brains to keep his mouth shut.
“She’s also tore up her belly,” the mechanic continued. “Now, maybe we could fake the prop with one of the spares we carry—”
“Bad idea,” Gold volunteered. “The OX5’s RPM’s don’t match the Hisso’s—”
Captain Bob glared at him. Gold shut up.
“It don’t matter anyway, Cap.” The mechanic shrugged. “We don’t have the woodworking capability to mill the wing spars or the landing gear, and we sure as hell can’t do a thing with that busted radiator.”
“Thank you, son.” Captain Bob nodded to the mechanic. “I’d like you to see if there’s a way we can dismantle the Jenny and load her onto a truck.”
The mechanic looked doubtful. “How we going to find the space to manage that?”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not going to leave that airplane here!” the Captain exploded. He took a deep breath. “Just see what you can do,” he told the mechanic. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to talk to the Red Baron, here, in private.”
The Captain waited until the mechanic was out of earshot, and then asked Gold, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire you, right now.”
Gold shrugged. “Accidents happen, Cap.”
“You call that an accident? You know what happened!”
Is he on to me? Gold wondered. “What are you saying, Cap?”
“I think you tired yourself out taking that—” He paused, scowling. “That farmer’s daughter for a joyride. Stunt flying takes concentration. You used all yours up, and you didn’t have enough left to do your work.”
“I guess you’re right, Cap,” Gold said, trying to sound contrite, hugely relieved that the man didn’t have the slightest inkling of what had actually happened.
The captain was nodding. “I warned you, didn’t I? I said you were heading for trouble, and now here we are. I may not know how to fly an airplane, but I’ve been around them a long time. I know that a stunt pilot can’t let himself get distracted by every pretty skirt he sees.”
“I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, Cap.”
“Son, you cost me money today,” Captain Bob said bleakly.
“You could fire me if you want, Cap,” Gold said. “On the other hand, what’s done is done. Why not let me make it up to you by saving you some money.”
“Now how might you do that, son?” Captain Bob demanded sharply.
“Simple, Cap. For s
tarters, you don’t try to lug the plane with you.”
“I don’t?”
Gold shook his head. “You leave her here.”
“Why the fuck would I?—”
“Try this on for size, Cap,” Gold suggested. “I stay behind with the Jenny and have her trucked into Doreen, where there are woodworking facilities and machine shops to supply the replacement parts she needs. I’ll supervise the repairs and then fly the Jenny to meet up with the troupe farther west. With luck, the Red Baron will be back with his circus in a couple of weeks… more or less,” Gold added as an afterthought.
“That’s not bad,” the Captain said. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea at all…” He turned on Gold. “But why should I leave you behind? Assuming I don’t fire you, that is. You’re my best pilot, goddamn your ass.”
“Up to you, of course, Cap.” Gold elaborately shrugged. “But you’ll need to leave behind an experienced mechanic to dicker the cost of the repairs and supervise the work; otherwise, you’re going to get fleeced by the locals. In addition, you’ll need to leave behind a pilot to fly the Jenny out of here. That’s two men staying behind, costing you salaries, and hotel room and board.”
Captain Bob nodded thoughtfully. “Or I can leave just one man: you. You’re a mechanic and a pilot.”
Gold smiled.
Erica Schuler was waiting for Gold near the damaged Jenny. “When I saw you crash I thought for sure you were going to die!” She gasped, embracing him. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe!”
“No big deal,” Gold muttered bravely, holding her. The press of her body made him dizzy. He felt intoxicated inhaling her scent as he nuzzled her hair. He even considered telling her the truth, but he decided to leave well enough alone. Things couldn’t be any better between them than just the way they were. “Erica, who runs the best motor garage in town?”
“Teddy Quinn,” she said flatly. “He takes care of my roadster. I wouldn’t let anyone else come near it.”
Gold nodded. “Would you mind driving me into town to see him?”
