by Dan Verner
For the first time since he had known her, Betty was less than well-dressed, with one uneven edge of her blouse hanging down over her skirt. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “You did so well! I’m so proud of you!” he told her. “And I have a little something for you—”he pulled out a bag from the department store in town—“something every pilot should have.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Betty exclaimed. “You taught me to fly.” She pulled a long white silk scarf out of the bag. “Otto! It’s lovely! Just like pilots wear! Thank you!” She kissed him again.
Otto smiled. “You are a pilot, Betty!” He wrapped the scarf around her neck. “There—now you’re really ready to fly!”
Betty beamed and posed with her scarf. “I’d say this calls for a celebration. How about dinner at my house this evening? You can meet Tom.”
“That would be swell. Can I bring Mata?”
“Of course. About seven, then?”
“I’ll be there. Thank you for the invitation.”
“We’ll have something pork-ish if that’s all right with you.”
Otto laughed. “I was in the Army. I’ll eat anything.”
She got into her car and took his hand. “Thank you, Otto. You’ve done so much for me. We’ll have to fly together.”
Otto shook his head. “You don’t need me to fly. It would be fun to do it together, though.”
“See you!” She put the car in gear and drove off. Otto stood there a while and then went back into the office.
***
“Mata! I’m home!” Otto called as he came through the kitchen door.
Mata came into the room. “How did it go today, brother?”
“Fine. Betty soloed and she’s invited us for dinner tonight. I accepted on your behalf. I hope that was OK.”
“That would be wonderful. I’ve always wanted to see the inside of their house.” She stood by the wall, steadily looking at him.
“Why are you looking at me that way?”
“I’m just wondering exactly what kind of relationship you have with Betty.”
“She’s a friend. And now she’s a fellow pilot.”
“I wonder, dear brother. I wonder. A woman knows.”
“Knows what?”
“What’s happening with you and Betty?”
“Which would be nothing. I’m going to help Steve with the milking.”
“As you wish. Just be careful.”
***
Mata pulled the Ford up in the circular driveway a few minutes before seven. She peered out the windshield at the two-story brick colonial. “Wow,” she mouthed. “What a house! And I bet the inside is as gorgeous as the outside.”
They got out of the car and went over to the front door. Otto rang the doorbell and they heard a distant ring and then steps coming toward them on the other side of the door. The massive oak door swung open, and Sarah stood before them. “Miss Kerchner, Captain Kerchner, it is so good to see you. Mrs. Brown is expecting you. Please come in.”
She showed them into the parlor where Otto and Betty had practiced dancing what seemed like a lifetime ago. They took seats on the sofa as Sarah indicated. “Mrs. Brown will join you shortly. Is there anything I can get you?”
“No, nothing, Sarah, thank you. How are you?”
Sarah smiled briefly. “I am well, thank you for asking. Now, please excuse me.”
Mata had not said a word. She was looking around at the furnishings. “So what do you think?” Otto said out of the side of his mouth.
Mata was breathless. “It so…beautiful. I’ve only seen places like this in magazines. What a gorgeous, elegant house!”
“Yeah, Betty and her family always did have good taste. Her parents gave her this as a wedding present and moved to another, larger place. It’s palatial, I hear.”
At that moment Betty swept into the room, wearing a black evening dress. Mata looked down at her print dress for a moment. “Welcome; it’s so good to see you! Mata, I’m so happy you could come.” She kissed Mata on both cheeks and then came over and hugged Otto. “It’s my flight instructor! Did Otto tell you I soloed today?”
“Yes, he did,” Mata answered. “Congratulations!”
“Maybe I’ll be the next Amelia Earhart!”
“I hope you won’t disappear,” Mata chimed in.
“I have no plans to disappear. Would you like some drinks? Please sit down and I’ll have James serve us.”
As she rang a small silver bell, Otto noticed that her eyes were puffy and somewhat red. He looked over at Mata, who raised an eyebrow. “Are you all right, Betty?”
Betty looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. Tom had to go back to the bank on business. He won’t be joining us for dinner and sends his regrets.”
Otto and Mata murmured words of understanding. “I hope you will be able to meet him another time.”
James came into the room bearing a silver cocktail service and three glasses. “Are martinis all right?”
“Fine,” Otto said. Mata looked at him quickly. “A martini is a drink made with gin and vermouth. It’s quite good. You should try it.”
“Yes, do try one, Mata.” Betty said.
“I’ve only had beer,” Mata responded. “And I didn’t like it very much. But I’ll try this martini.”
James poured three drinks into chilled glasses and handed one to each of them. Otto and Betty took a sip, from their glasses, while Mata barely tasted hers.
“So, what do you think, Sis?”
“It’s…different. I think I could grow to like it.”
Otto and Betty laughed.
***
“Would anyone care for coffee? We can have it in the parlor.” Betty looked at her two dinner guests, who had pushed their chairs back slightly.
“Yes, please,” they both answered.
“Well, let’s adjourn to the parlor, then. Captain Kerchner, would you escort us?”
Otto took Mata on one arm and Betty on the other. “You must tell us more about your bomber and crew and your missions,” Betty told him as they entered the parlor.
“There’s not much to say,” Otto offered. “It was a job and we did it and now I’m out of it.”
“Otto doesn’t like to talk about it much,” Mata told Betty.
“I understand,” said Betty, looking at him in a way he couldn’t figure out. Sarah appeared carrying a tray with a silver coffee service and china cups.
“So, Mata, I hear the dairy is going really well.”
“Yes, we’ve been fortunate that there is such demand for milk. I think there will always be.”
They finished their coffee and then Otto stood. “We really should be going. Cows don’t know how late we’ve been up. Thank you for a delightful evening, Betty.”
“It was my pleasure. I hope you’ll come again soon.”
Betty saw them to the door, hugged Mata and after hesitating a bit, hugged Otto. They got into their car and drove away. Betty waved to them from the door.
“What do you suppose happened?” Otto asked Mata.
“I think Mr. Brown didn’t want to dine with you. He’s probably heard too much about you from Betty.”
“What?”
“It’s as clear as the nose on your face, Otto. Betty is in love with you—and I’d say you’re mighty fond of her as well.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Right.”
“Mata…”
“Yes?”
“Nothing.”
Chapter 42
Unexpected News—Early April, 1945
Otto came home from the airport one balmy April day. Mata greeted him at the door in tears.
“What is it, Mata? What’s wrong?”
“Otto, the President’s dead. It just came over the radio. He died in Warm Springs.” She sobbed into the handkerchief she held in her hands.
Otto hugged her and then went over to the radio in the living room and turned it on. FDR dead. How could that be? The war must
have put an incredible strain on the man. The announcer came on, speaking of the President’s death in somber tones.
Otto tried to think. Who was Vice-President—make that the new President? Wasn’t it that Truman fellow from Missouri? What kind of leadership would he provide? Only time would tell, he supposed. In the meantime, the noose was tightening around Germany. Otto hoped Truman would prosecute the war with the energy that Roosevelt did.
***
The next morning, Otto went over to the airport. There was some business, but nothing like what it would be after the war. Mata had told him he should buy some surplus aircraft that surely would become available with the cessation of hostilities. That sounded like a good idea to him. Out of all those government-trained pilots, some would want to buy their own aircraft and fly them. That would be good for business.
He opened the office, went in, sat at the desk and started filling out some monthly reports. There wasn’t much to report, but the bureaucrats had to be satisfied. The morning sun came through the glass in the door, and suddenly he was aware someone was standing in the light. He couldn’t see who it was for the glare at first, but as he stood, he saw that it was Betty, and she was dressed in black. He had never seen her dressed entirely in black. She had an absolutely implacable look on her face.
He caught her by the shoulders. “Betty! Are you all right? Sit down. Let me get you some water.”
She sat and stared straight ahead. He got her a glass of water and gave it to her. She drank it slowly and then turned to look at him. “Otto, Thomas has been killed.”
“What? Killed? How awful! What happened?”
She smiled a sardonic smile. “The husband of his girlfriend shot him dead. In bed with her. Shot them both. And so I’m a widow. And you know what? I don’t care. In fact, I’m glad. Good riddance, I say. Just call me the Merry Widow.”
Otto was speechless. “I am so sorry, Betty. What a horrible thing to have happen.”
She looked at him evenly. “Don’t be sorry, Otto. I’m not.”
“When is the funeral?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. Do you have something to drink?”
“There’s some whiskey in the desk.”
“Gimme a shot.”
Otto poured one shot after another. Betty was soon out of it, collapsed on the desk, breathing heavily. Otto thought for a bit. He finally lifted Betty up, carried her to the Packard, put her in the passenger’s seat and drove her home. As he pulled up, Sarah and James came rushing out of the house. “We were so worried about Miss Betty,” Sarah said. “She got the news and just ran to her car and drove off. We didn’t know where she was!”
“She was at the airport with me,” said Otto as he helped get Betty into the house. “She had a few drinks.”
“You gave her drinks?” Sarah regarded Betty somberly.
“Well, she asked for them. I’ve seen soldiers do this after some sort of trauma.”
“I think you know how things were between her and Mr. Brown,” Sarah observed. “I would think she’d be drinking to celebrate.”
“I don’t know her motives,” Otto said as they carried Betty up the stairs to her room. They deposited her on the bed and tiptoed out. “She’ll be all right,” Otto told them. “Just let her sleep it off. She’s going to have a hell of a hangover, though.”
“We’ll take good care of her,” James told him.
Otto went back down the steps. He hesitated at the front door. “Do you mind if I take the Packard home? Someone can pick it up later or I can get Mata to pick me up if I return it.”
“We’ll come get it later,” Sarah said. “Thanks for bringing her home.” She caught Otto’s wrist as he was opening the door. “She’s going to need you now as never before.”
“I know that,” Otto told her, thinking, What have I gotten myself into? “One more thing—when is the funeral?”
“Saturday at eleven AM at the Episcopal Church,” said James.
“Thank you,” Otto told him, started the car and pulled off. What a fine mess, he thought.
***
Word got around town about the manner of Tom Brown’s demise and of course most of the town turned out for the funeral. Some wags were calling it “the best show in town,” although such sentiments were repeated at places such as the barber shop and the pool hall and not in polite society. Otto put on his dress uniform and Mata the dress she wore to her mother’s funeral. Few people had seen Otto since his return, so this would be their first chance to do so.
He and Mata arrived half an hour early and found the sanctuary three-quarters full. They took seats near the back, but Otto could see people looking at him a few seconds more than was polite.
An unseen organist played some familiar hymns; others Otto had never heard before. Must be the difference between Episcopalian and German Lutheran, he thought. Right at eleven, a robed minister came in the back of the sanctuary and called in a sonorous voice, “Will you all rise?” The congregation stood, and the minister led a small procession down the aisle to the front. Six men in dark suits carried in a casket covered with a large white cloth, followed by Betty in black wearing a veil, with her mother on one side and her father on another. She looked over at Otto and winked. Otto hoped no one else saw it, but he thought Mata did, because she sighed heavily. The rest of the procession consisted of people Otto did not know. He assumed they were Tom’s relatives.
The group reached the front and the pall bearers placed the coffin on a white-shrouded stand. They retired to places on the front pew and the family filled in behind them.
Otto half-listened to the service. He had seen too many deaths in the air for one more to make an impression, particularly when he didn’t know the man. Of course, he didn’t know all the crews he saw perish in the stratosphere, but that was somehow different. They were his brothers in arms. Tom Brown was, well, he was what he was. There was no mention of anything about Tom as an individual. Otto wondered if that was true of all Episcopalian funerals or just this one. The prayers were beautiful, he thought.
The service passed quickly, and the congregation stood as the coffin was carried past them. Otto and Mata did not plan to go to the Union Cemetery in town and waited while the family passed by. This time Betty gave him a radiant smile. Oh my Lord, Otto thought. What will happen next?
Mata was wiping tears away. He put his arm around her as they walked from the church. “Are you all right, sis?” he said.
“I’m all right. It’s just so sad, and it will be difficult for Betty, the way people talk.”
“Yes, people will talk,” Otto murmured. They waited outside the church for the casket to be loaded into a black hearse. It pulled away, followed by the cars of those going to the cemetery. Otto and Mata got into their sedan and headed for home.
Chapter 43
Life Goes On—May, 1945
Otto occupied himself with reconstructing the airport during the spring. Betty came out regularly to take the Cub up. Occasionally Otto would ride with her in the J-5. She was building time. He had all the time he wanted for a while. They sat in the office and had long talks through lazy afternoons.
Mata told him that the time he and Betty spent together was the subject of much town gossip. Otto said he didn’t care.
***
Betty sat across the table from Otto at the farmhouse. She was also a frequent visitor at the house now that she was a widow, and when Otto had to go over to the airport, sometimes she went with him, and sometimes she stayed and helped Mata. They enjoyed talking with each other.
Today, they were talking about business. Otto had plans and he wanted the two women in on them.
“We need to plan for the end of the war,” he said. “There is going to be a tremendous increase of interest in flying and we have to be ready for it.”
“So,” said Mata, “we buy surplus aircraft and rent or re-sell them.”
“You’ll need funding,” Betty told them.
“Mata is in charge of
finances,” Otto offered.
“We have some cash reserves,” Mata said. “But we also need a bigger barn and some of the milking equipment needs replacing. I’ve been holding off until the end of the war.”
“I think it’ll all be over by the end of the year,” Otto surmised. “We’re on the continent and driving forward daily. And we control the air. The Nazis are finished. It’s just a question of how soon.”
“Do you wish you were still over there?” Betty asked him, taking his hand.
“I would like to be with the fellows and help with the effort, but if I had made two more missions I would have rotated home and become an instructor.” He smiled wryly at what could have been.
Betty patted his hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Mata stood up and got the coffee pot. “Do you want me to leave you two love birds alone?”
Betty giggled. “Maybe later,” Otto laughed.
Mata poured more coffee. “I think we need to incorporate the airport, get town sponsorship and sell stock.”
“Whoa! Those are big steps!” Otto told her.
“Not all at once, silly. And we’ll have to wait until the war’s over. It’s not like we’re going to do all this this afternoon.”
“I know my dad’s bank would be good for a loan. He really admires you, Otto, and thinks the world of you.”
“Are we agreed then?” Otto looked at both women. They nodded and he sat back in his chair.
Betty spoke. “Now I have an idea that’s sort of related to business, and it’s to have a charity ball to benefit the USO. We can have a band in from Minneapolis and sell tickets and make some money for a good cause. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Mata said. “Where would you have it?”
“Mom and Dad have said we can use their place. We can have it in maybe late May or early June.”
“The war will be over by then,” Otto pointed out. “I mean the war in Europe. I believe we’re going to have to invade Japan, and that won’t happen until late next year unless something unforeseen happens.”
