by Dan Verner
“Well, I’m a little different from the time you last saw me, Betty. But you haven’t changed a bit!”
She cast her eyes down for a brief moment. “Maybe in ways that don’t show, I have. But no matter. I heard about your accident and your medal, and Mata kept me up about your treatment. I didn’t want to intrude on your time with your family, so I was waiting until I ran across you. It is truly good to see you.”
“It’s great to see you, Betty. Well, I have to be getting along…”
He turned to go, but she caught him by the wrist. “Otto Kerchner, do you mean to tell me you can’t spend a few minutes catching up with an old friend?”
Otto felt himself blushing, although he was sure it wasn’t visible. “Of course I can, Betty, it’s just that…”
“Just that what, Otto?” She was looking steadily at him with her fists on her hips.
“Nothing, Betty. Is Spencer’s still open?”
“You bet. I haven’t been there in years. Let’s go.”
She went over to the same Packard convertible she had driven to prom. With all vehicle production turned to wartime uses, the cars did not look that much different from those Otto was familiar with when he left. Betty looked at his “new” pickup. “You’ve moved up in the vehicle world, Otto.”
He smiled. “This was Mata’s doing.” Betty laughed at this, a laugh that sounded like silvery bells. Otto got into the pickup and followed Betty to Spencer’s. They parked and went inside. The waitress waved them to a table. There weren’t many other customers at that hour, so they sat down in the seats closest to the door. A few eyes turned their way and then quickly looked away.
Betty sat across from him. She hadn’t changed much in the time he was gone. Maybe a little more mature looking. He wondered how he looked to her.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Betty.” She blushed and looked down.
“Why, thank you.” There was a moment of silence.
“I’ll say it for you. I have changed a lot.”
She reached across the table and took his hand. “I was so sorry to hear about your accident and injury. But Otto…”
“Yes?”
“Your eyes are still the same. They are still as wise and kind as ever. It’s still the same you inside.”
“I’m glad you feel that way because I don’t feel the same.”
“But you are. I can tell.” She took her hand off his as the waitress came up.
“What’ll it be, folks? Ladies first.” They hadn’t noticed the waitress.
“I’d like water to drink,” Betty said, “and a tuna salad on whole wheat.”
“And you, sir?” Otto saw the familiar flicker in the waitress’s eyes.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger done medium well with mayonnaise, mustard, lettuce, tomato and pickle, and a soft drink. Thank you.”
The waitress took their menus and walked off rapidly.
“So, Betty,” Otto began as she got out of earshot. “How are you?”
“I’m all right,” she said, but Otto saw she dropped her eyes as she said this and knew she was not all right.
“Are you still working at the bank?”
“No, I stopped that when I got married. I stay at home most days and supervise the staff. I do sing in the choir at church and sit on the library board. I think music and books are so important.”
“I agree. Go on, please.”
“There’s not much left to tell.”
“What about the lucky fellow you married?”
“To be honest, and we always have been honest with each other, I don’t see much of Tom. He’s either working or at the club or on a business trip. I don’t want anyone to know how things are, so I don’t say much, but honestly, I’m starting to think this marriage business was a mistake.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m still not married and probably never will be now.”
“Don’t be so sure. Some smart girl will snap you right up.”
“I doubt it, but thank you for saying that.”
She took his hands again. “Dear Otto, do you ever think that things could have been different?”
“Different how?”
“With me and you?”
“Betty, I don’t think much about the way things could have been. I try to think about the way things are and accept them. It’s part of the way I deal with my situation.”
“I see.” Just then the waitress came back with their order. She set them down and they ate for a while in silence.
Betty spoke. “Let’s get together again soon.”
Otto hesitated. “Betty, it’s really great seeing you and talking to you, but really, you’re a married woman.”
He could not read her expression. “If you can call it a marriage,” she said. “I rarely see Tom and if I say anything to him, it turns into a big argument.” Tears filled her eyes. “I should have waited for you. We had—have something special.”
“I’m sorry, Betty.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’m still your friend. That hasn’t changed.”
She smiled through her tears. “Thank you, Otto. That means the world to me.”
They finished and got their check. Otto insisted on paying. They walked out to their cars.
“Otto, one more thing…”
“What is it, Betty?”
“Would you give me flying lessons?”
“I’d love to, but I haven’t flown since the accident. I’m not sure I will ever fly again.”
“I know you will. You were born to fly.”
“I’ll think about it and let you know. Great seeing you, Betty.” He stuck out his hand.
“Oh, Otto,” she said and reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “It was so nice talking with you. We’ll have to do it again.”
“I hope so,” she said, getting into her car. “Good-bye for now.”
“’Bye, Betty.” He started the truck, got in and drove home. Life was interesting. And sometimes amazing.
Chapter 41
Teach Me Tonight—Late March, 1945
Betty was true to her word, and the next Friday she showed up midmorning at the airport. Otto recognized her Packard as it pulled up beside the hangar. The airport wasn’t that busy, so Otto hurried over and opened the driver’s door for her. “Otto!” she exclaimed. “So good to see you again!” She gave him a hard hug and kissed his cheek. “When do we start flying?”
Otto looked down sheepishly. “Actually, I meant to call you. There’s no flight instruction for the duration. All the fuel and materiel go to the war effort. I’m sorry.”
Betty’s bright blue eyes flickered briefly. “Well, let’s go flying anyway. Are you OK with flying? Which one is your plane? Is it the silver one over there?”
“No, we own the yellow Cub and the red-and-white J-5. I’d use the J-5 for instruction if we could, so let’s take the J-2 up. I can give you informal instruction and some flight time, but nothing official. We do have a small fuel allotment and there’s not much business. I think I’ll be all right since you’ll be with me. ”
“Let’s go,” Betty said.
She took his arm and they walked over to the yellow Piper. Otto went over the parts of the aircraft with her and showed her how he inspected each part. Betty watched with the same kind of concentration on her face that Otto remembered from algebra class. Finally he said, “All right, you climb into the pilot’s seat and I’ll prop it.”
“’Prop it’ as in ‘prop it up?’”
“No, as in ‘turn the prop to start the engine.’ This aircraft doesn’t have a self-starter like the J-5 does.” Otto helped Betty into the cockpit, showed her the controls and had her pull out the throttle and the choke. “Close the throttle when the engine starts but not all the way, and I’ll come up and trade places with you.”
Otto went around to the front of the aircraft and pulled the prop through and then gave it a hard tug as he stepped back. The engine caught and Betty cut the throttle to idle. She got out of the front cock
pit and got into the back. Otto climbed into the front. He shouted back to Betty over his shoulder. “Ready?”
“I’m ready,” Betty said.
“Let’s go, then!” Otto advanced the throttle and the little yellow plane moved forward to its takeoff position.
“Is it always this bumpy?” Betty asked, leaning up so Otto could hear her.
“Not once we take off. It should be very smooth today.” Otto lined up on the familiar runway and advanced the throttle. The Cub trundled forward, slowly at first and then faster and faster.
He heard Betty squealing from the back seat, which she never did as far as he knew. The airplane’s tail came up, and they were running level to the ground. Otto waited until the airspeed reached the rotate velocity and pulled back on the stick. The Cub lifted off and they were flying. They climbed a little more slowly than usual, because of Betty’s extra weight, although Otto thought she didn’t weigh that much at all.
Otto heard Betty from the back seat as they climbed. She was both laughing and crying. “Betty, are you all right?”
“I’m more than all right, I’m wonderful! What an experience! Otto, why didn’t you tell me it was like this. It’s amazing. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She reached up and hugged him around the neck so strongly he started choking. He tore at her hands and pulled them off and when he had recovered his breath, said “Don’t choke the pilot, Betty! You’ll need me to land this thing.”
She dropped her hands to his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Otto. I’ll try to behave. But you understand how exciting this is, I’m sure.”
“I certainly do, Betty.” He pulled them into a wide turn and then straightened out.
“This is beautiful,” Betty exclaimed. “You can see everything from here. Everything looks like toys—the farms, the houses, the cars. It’s a different world up here. I love it!”
They flew on a bit more and then Otto said, “Would you like to fly the plane?”
“Oh, can I? I won’t ruin it or crash it or something like that?”
“I doubt it,” Otto chuckled. “I have dual controls. I’ll take back over if you get into trouble, but I don’t think I will have to.” He released his controls. “You have the aircraft.”
He could hear Betty in back of him, breathless. “Oh, my…oh, my…this is hard…” After a few seconds the Cub skidded off to one side. “Oh!” Betty screamed in a small voice. “What am I doing wrong?”
Otto brought the Cub back on course with a brief touch on the stick. “You’re doing well. Just a light touch on the controls is all you need. Not as much as you would use on a fountain pen. The aircraft tends to be stable unless you persuade it otherwise.” The noise of the Cub engine sounded like one of the power lawn mowers the groundskeepers used at Betty’s house. It was nowhere near the thunder of the four Wright Whirlwinds of the Fortress. But, then, no one was shooting at them.
Otto was glad that he suffered no anxiety about taking the Cub up. Having Betty with him made a difference, as did concentrating on helping her fly?
“This is great, Otto,” exclaimed Betty as she guided the airplane through a few small turns. Otto took the controls and said, “I have the stick.” He brought the Cub over in a hard left turn so that they were almost looking straight down at the ground through the side window. Betty stifled a sharp scream.
“Sorry, should have warned you. We need to get back. I don’t have that much of a fuel allotment and I’d like to do this again if you’d care to.”
“I’d love to,” Betty answered from the back seat. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful up here, not like the world below.” They straightened out from the turn. The newly planted fields stretched from horizon to horizon. Otto put the airplane into the approach pattern as Betty followed each turn, looking right and left. Then they were on final, and they dropped until they could hear the whispering of grass against the wheels. Otto chopped the throttle, and they were down, rolling smoothly to a stop. Otto moved the throttle up a bit and they rolled up to the tie-down close to the hangar.
Otto opened the side door, climbed out and helped Betty out of the front. She was flushed and smiling, and when her feet hit the ground, she enveloped Otto in a huge hug and kissed him on the mouth. He nearly lost his balance but steadied himself on one of the Cub’s struts.
“Otto! That was terrific! Let’s do it again soon! I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited!”
“It was fun, Betty. How about next Saturday about the same time?”
“You got a date, mister!” she called as she swung off to her car. She waved with one arm extended as she got into the car, fired up the engine and made a quick half-turn to be pointed in the right direction.
Otto stood by the Cub, waving as she picked up speed. He got a rag from the cockpit and started wiping down the Cub. That was definitely a good time, he thought, already wishing it was next Saturday.
***
Betty came for her lesson the next Saturday, and the next, and so on. It was soon evident that she was an excellent and sensitive pilot, and Otto spent much of each lesson looking around and enjoying being in the air. They made a cross-country trip to Eau Claire in the big Cub, where they grabbed a sandwich at the snack bar (Otto teased her that he was glad they had tuna fish since that’s what Betty always had to eat when he was with her).
After just a few lessons, Otto knew Betty was ready to solo. They were sitting talking about the lesson at an outdoor table by the office door. “So just try to stay relaxed on your approach to landing. I think you’re tightening up on the stick and that causes you to over-react when you get some bumps. Light touch, and go with the aircraft and it’ll put you down smoothly if you don’t try to horse it around.”
Betty listened with the same rapt concentration she always gave him when he talked about the lesson.
“This is so much fun, Otto. When will I be able to solo?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know when I think you’re about ready. Just one thing—”
“Wear a blouse you don’t mind ruining next time.”
Betty’s eyes widened. “I’m going to solo? But—am I ready?—are you sure?”
Otto raised his right hand. “I didn’t say anything about soloing, did I? Just wear something old.”
Betty leaned over the table and kissed him on the cheek. “You are such a dear! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Otto blushed, grinned and waved a hand in her direction. “OK, next week, then. We’ll see.”
“All right, dear Otto. I’ll see you then.” She walked off to her car and drove off with the top down, waving until he could see her no more.”
Otto went over and emptied the trash from the large can beside the table. As he was hauling it around to the dump area in the back, he thought, I’m falling for her. Dammit, I’m falling for a married woman. Maybe I should tell her I can’t teach her any more. Well, she’ll solo next week and I won’t spend as much time in the cockpit with her. We’ll see.
***
Betty showed up half an hour early to her lesson the next Saturday. The weather was clear, and Otto told her he’d have to finish some paperwork before her lesson. She stood and looked around the silent airport where there only the planes and the high school kid Otto had hired to help him run the place. It was a contented place for her, unlike her house, which was so big and depressing.
He came out and handed her the keys to the Cub. “Take ‘er up,” he smiled.
“What!? By myself? But I’m not ready! I can’t! I mean…”
“You’re ready,” Otto told her. “Now get flying, lady!”
Otto sat on the picnic table outside the office and watched Betty preflight the Cub. She was dressed to the nines as usual with a yellow skirt and a nice white blouse that looked new. She apparently had forgotten his warning to wear something old. Maybe she didn’t have anything old.
She finished her preflight and climbed into the cockpit. Otto walked over to prop the engine. He pulled it through once.
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“Switch on!” Betty called.
“Switch on,” Otto answered.
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
“Contact!”
“Contact!”
Otto spun the prop hard, backing away as the engine caught. He gave Betty a thumbs up and she nodded. The engine ran up, and she taxied toward the runway. She held at the end, testing the controls. Satisfied that everything was in order, she pulled out the throttle and started her takeoff roll.
The little yellow airplane started down the field, slowly at first and then faster and faster. Betty pulled back on the stick at just the right time, and she was airborne, climbing for altitude. Otto could hear her whooping all the way from where he stood. He grinned.
The Cub ran through its departure pattern and Betty was off to the west. Otto watched the aircraft grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared over the horizon. He could still hear the engine in the morning stillness. He sat on the table and waited. In a few minutes, the Cub appeared from the southwest, entering the pattern precisely and running through the legs. Betty turned on final and smoothly brought the aircraft down. She flared a little too high and the plane bounced twice before settling to earth. She taxied over to where Otto stood, parked the Cub and cut the engine. Otto came over and opened the door, a pair of scissors in his hand.
Betty jumped out of the cockpit and embraced Otto hard. “It was wonderful! I wasn’t concerned at all! I did everything just the way you told me! I’m sorry I bounced on landing! Thank you so much for teaching me!”
Otto staggered backward under the force of Betty’s hug. “Nice flight,” he said. “And don’t worry about bouncing it. You’ll improve. Now for the ceremony. Untuck your blouse.”
Betty backed up and took the tail of her blouse from her skirt.
“In honor of your first flight,” Otto began, and snipped off the end of her blouse, “I initiate you into the fellowship of pilots.” He presented the scrap of cloth to Betty. “Now we have to sign the paperwork.”
Betty slipped her arm around his waist as they walked over to the table. Otto had the application for her license there and had her sign it. He then took the pen and wrote on the cloth, “Excellent first flight! April 25, 1944. Otto Kerchner, Instructor.” He gave the scrap to Betty. “Here! A lot of fellows frame these and hang them on a wall.”
