Lucy’s eyes rapidly scanned inside and out. She knew the ground was coming, but their airspeed was much too high to simply yank on the controls. She said to herself, Easy Lucy. Nice and easy.
The Cessna barely cleared the trees and resumed climbing a mere fifty feet above the ground. Jack turned to Lucy and said, “I’m scared. Let’s go back.”
Lucy was scared, too. She didn’t want to go back, but neither did she want to kill herself and her little brother. She fought a short battle in her mind, then looked at her brother and said, “OK.”
Lucy held the Cessna’s nose in a climb until they reached one thousand feet. Once level, she scanned the horizon from left to right, but oddly, nothing looked familiar. Lucy didn’t want to admit it to her brother; she fought the urge to tell him. Finally, after looking to and fro with no sign of a recognizable landmark, she decided to fess up. “Where are we?” she asked.
Jack looked around. He divided each part of the ground into sections and then studied each individual slice one at a time, just as his grandfather had taught him. After a nervous few minutes, he cried out, “Look, over there! It’s the radio tower for W.A.R.M. Fly over in that direction.”
“Are you sure?” asked Lucy.
Jack didn’t reply and Lucy didn’t ask again. She knew he was sure.
“Whatever you do, Lucy, don’t hit any of the guide wires,” said Jack in a matter-of-fact tone.
Lucy looked at her brother and smiled, saying, “Don’t be stupid all your life.”
The two young aviators studied the ground and the sky, working together to navigate their Cessna home.
“There’s Bald Mountain!” noted Jack.
“Where?”
“There, to our right.”
“OK, that’s good. We’re on course,” said Lucy. “I sure hope Mr. Tacker isn’t around when we land. That could mean big trouble.”
Jack remembered the first time he met John Tacker. It was a meeting he never told anyone about, not even Lucy. After he’d helped him with his car, the two became friends. It was one of the few things he allowed himself to feel guilty about because, he’d reasoned, it was the right thing to do. But Lucy was right. If Mr. Tacker was around when they landed, there would be heck to pay.
The one hundred horsepower Continental engine coughed, tearing Jack away from his thoughts and back into the cockpit. He looked at the tachometer, but everything seemed fine. He squinted his eyes, pouted his lips and glanced at the panel, wondering what he’d heard and whether or not it would return.
Lucy heard the hiccup, too. The unexpected break in the engine noise caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She, too, scanned the gauges, but could not detect any anomalies. Lucy subconsciously pushed the throttle forward a tiny bit, silently hoping everything was OK. What she didn’t know was that the momentary engine cough was a warning, advising the pilots that their four cylinder engine had just contracted the flu.
Thirty Nine
Without any further warning, the engine began to sputter and buck. Lucy could feel the entire airframe shaking in her hands. She glanced at the airspeed; it too was dancing around. Once she confirmed that they were safely above stall speed, she scanned the engine gauges. Both the oil pressure and temperature were in the green, but the engine RPM was all over the place. “What’s wrong?” she asked nervously.
Jack looked at the tachometer, but had no idea what was ailing their tiny airplane. The engine was running, but it sounded as though it was about to shut itself down. He wracked his brain trying to figure out what it might be. “I don’t know, Lucy. I don’t know,” he said. “Let me think.”
“We don’t have time! It sounds like the engine is going to quit any second. I think we’re going to have to set it down, Jack!” announced the anxious airman.
The rough running engine caused the airplane to shudder wildly. Lucy feared the engine might actually shake itself free of the airframe and tumble to the ground! The propeller was spinning so slowly, the two young pilots could practically count each revolution.
“Hold best glide speed, Lucy,” ordered Jack. “And let’s look for a field.”
The student pilots scoured the ground looking for a safe place to set their airplane down. Lucy wasn’t sure she could handle an actual dead-stick landing. The last time she’d practiced one, her grandfather was forced to take the controls when it became obvious that she was going to fly into an outdoor movie screen. She told herself to maintain sixty knots and to keep a sharp eye out for obstructions.
“Over there!” yelled Jack, pointing to their left.
“No! That’s a corn field,” she replied. “Don’t you remember? Grandpa told us that by the end of July the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye. It will tear the airplane apart. Look for a highway.”
“A highway in Newton Township, are you kidding?”
“Help me, Jack. I’m not that good at this maneuver,” pleaded Lucy.
“Just do what grandpa taught you, Lucy. Maintain sixty-five knots. How about over there?”
“I thought it was sixty knots,” she replied, while studying the field at the tip of her brother’s finger.
“No, sixty is too slow.” Turn right a little and get the nose down.”
Lucy did as instructed. She tried to concentrate, but the hacking and choking engine held her captive. She wanted to give the airplane to her brother, but thought better of it. Lucy told herself that she was the captain and that it was her responsibility. She had gotten them into it, and she would get them out.
“OK, I think you should come to the right some more,” said Jack. “Hold your speed. We still have twelve hundred RPM so that should help. Do you see it?”
“Yes, I see it. It’s a playground.”
Lucy carefully lined the airplane up on final approach to a large square field behind the Newton/Ransom Elementary School. She estimated the field was only a few hundred feet in length, so she told herself to hit the brakes hard the moment the wheels touched the grass.
As the altimeter dipped below five hundred feet, an idea flashed through Jack’s brain. “Carb ice!” he yelled.
Lucy was using all of her concentration to hold sixty-five knots. She gently pushed and pulled on the control yoke to keep the Cessna’s nose pointing directly at the edge of the playground. She knew she would need every inch. Lucy only partially heard what her brother said, but nodded her head anyway.
When his sister didn’t answer, Jack decided to act on his own. The young student pilot realized that even though the outside air temperature was warm, the dew on their grandfather’s runway that morning indicated there was some moisture in the air. Yes, it made sense. Ice had formed inside their carburetor and blocked the air from getting to the cylinders. The engine was choking. He reached over and pulled the carburetor heat knob to the full-on position. A second later, the engine stopped dead!
Without the limited thrust that the bucking engine had been giving them, the Cessna’s speed instantly dropped to fifty-five knots. A moment later, the stall warning sounded. Lucy knew she had to push the nose down, but was also aware that by doing so she would be forcing the airplane into the trees that surrounded the landing field. “What are you doing? Why did you do that?” she cried, trying desperately to fight the panic that was seeping from every pore.
Jack was stunned. He’d done what the book recommended. He had no idea that the engine would fail altogether. “Watch your speed, Lucy. Don’t stall it!”
The Cessna was two hundred feet in the air and rapidly approaching the trees. If it weren’t for the blaring stall warning horn, all they would have heard was the whisper of the wind rushing past their windows. Lucy understood that there was little else she could do. Turning to avoid the trees would be suicide. She reluctantly decided to play the hand that was dealt her.
Only moments after the two had accepted their fate, the mighty Continental engine backfired loudly. It sounded as if a shotgun had gone off inside the engine cowling. A second later, the en
gine roared back to life.
Lucy hauled back on the controls just in time to prevent the tops of the thick branches from scraping against the bottom of their airplane. Once clear, she lowered the nose toward the grass. ‘626 accelerated rapidly and Lucy had trouble maintaining control. She could see a small walkway that connected the two halves of the old school, and briefly wondered if she should attempt to fly beneath the glass and metal structure. She looked at her airspeed and decided that flying over the top was the better option. Lucy pulled up and managed to clear the solid obstruction by a wide margin.
Jack stared at his sister.“Holy cow, man! Holy cow!”
Lucy tried to respond, but no words would come out.
“Lucy,” said Jack, “climb back up to one thousand feet and stay on this heading. I think if we do that, we’ll be over the Schultzville Airport in a few minutes.”
Lucy knew the way home and recognized that they would be there in short order, but the young teen was feeling wrung-out. She wasn’t completely sure that she could handle any more excitement. But she had to stay with it a little longer. She had to get them home safely. It was up to her.
Once assured the Cessna was climbing steadily and that the engine was going to continue running, Jack allowed himself to smile. He’d saved the day. He knew the hours that he’d spent studying the operator’s manual would someday pay off. Jack then recalled his first flight and how frightened he was. He’d instantly concluded that flying was much too scary, but now understood that those fears were in his past.
Jack, like many who came before him, could feel it: aviation was in his blood. Someday, the young pilot knew, he would command an airliner.
Forty
Bill felt his knees grow weak. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Both kids were good pilots, but having spent his life in the air, the second he hit the top step on his porch, he’d noticed the low overcast of gray clouds. He knew they were not equipped to handle such weather. His hands shook. He stood, swaying gently from side to side, trying desperately to think of a way to save his grandkids.
“Praise, be! So, the little hoodlums stole it from you, eh? As far as I could tell, neither of them was old enough to fly solo,” said John. Then with a sneer, he added, “It would serve you right if they flew that darn thing right into the side of a mountain.” The moment the words left his lips, something deep inside caused him to wince. He didn’t really know the girl, but he actually liked Jack and instantly felt remorse for making such a callous statement. He wished he could take his words back, but it was too late.
Bill, stunned by the knowledge that his grandchildren were most certainly in over their heads, only half-heard the words his neighbor had just uttered. But he definitely heard the part about them flying into a mountain. Suddenly, in a fit of rage, Bill whirled and punched John in the nose. His fist struck the old man with such force that both men could hear the unmistakable sound of John’s nose being broken.
John Tacker crumpled to the ground. He held his hands over his face, but his fingers were unable to hold back the spurting blood. As the old man lay on his back moaning in pain, Bill stood over him with fists clenched, ready to dish out more of what he’d been holding in for far too long.
“Get on your feet, you spineless bastard! You’ve been itching for this for a long time. How dare you wish death upon my family! That punch is payback for the time you slugged me on board my airplane. Get back on your feet; you have a lot more coming!” cried Bill, angrier than he’d been in many years.
“Dear Lord, I need a doctor,” mumbled John from underneath his blood-soaked hands.
“Stand up, you coward! It’s time to settle the score!” screamed Bill.
“I shall offer you my other cheek,” said John, through tears of pain.
“You hypocrite!” shouted Bill. “You use those words every day, but you don’t know what they mean. Your heart is nothing but a frozen block of ice! You speak as you do because you want to be judged by your words and what you claim to believe, rather than by your actions and how you treat others. I’ve flown with plenty of pilots over the years that were just as deaf and blind as you. They too used the same empty words. You’re full of hate, John. To wish death upon two innocent children is unforgivable. Maybe you should stay right where you are, because if you get up I may just beat you to death!”
“You stole Lynn from me. How could you?” said John. “You were my best friend.”
Bill was stunned by his neighbor’s response. He shook his head back and forth, unable to comprehend what he’d just heard. “What?” he asked finally.
“You stole Lynn while I was away at school. How could you do that? And your father, he destroyed my career. What do you Pratts have against me? What did I do to your family to deserve any of that?” sobbed John, finally expressing the emotional pain that he’d held inside for a lifetime.
“What? You old fool! I didn’t steal Lynn from you,” he said, dropping his fists to his side. “Lynn cared deeply for you as a friend, but that was all. How many times did you kiss her, John? How many hops did you attend with her? She loved you as a friend, as an intellectual equal, but not as a future husband. You were always a smart guy, John, but when it came to matters of the heart, you’ve remained a child. You’ve used your religion as a shield because you were too weak or unwilling to face the truth. Life was good to you, but you allowed disappointment and dissatisfaction to cloud your view. And for some reason, ever since you were a kid, whenever you experienced a setback, you convinced yourself that the forces of the universe were conspiring to ruin your life. I didn’t steal her away. In fact, I fought it. I knew how you felt, but I too was in love. I adored Lynn since the moment I first set eyes on her. I stayed in the background because we were friends. John, you had everything back then, and I was willing to let you have Lynn, too. It’s my guess that when you went away to school, you became a little fish in a big pond. You encountered people that were infinitely smarter than you. Not every girl you met wanted to be with you and, for the first time in your life, you met people that played sports better than you. When you came home after that first semester, you were distant. The life you knew was gone and you couldn’t deal with it. You blamed everyone else for your own shortcomings and failures. What happened with Lynn would have happened whether you were here or not, and I believe you know that, too.”
Lynn, standing a few feet away after having run outside when she saw John hit the ground, heard the entire conversation.
“John, I missed you so much after you went away to college,” said Lynn. “I’ve never known anyone that I enjoyed spending time with as much as you. But I never led you on--you know that. People can’t explain their feelings, they just happen. Bill didn’t steal me away. I was in love and that was all there was to it.” Then, after a brief pause, “John, so much time has passed now. You need to move on.”
John tried to block the words flowing into his brain, but he couldn’t. He tried telling himself that he was listening to the devil, and that it was the work of demons who feverishly sought to control his mind. But from somewhere far back in the deep recesses of his brain, amid all the noise, he could hear just a whisper that told him to close his mouth, open his mind and listen. But he pretended not to hear.
“If you’d stayed with me, Lynn, I would have let you do whatever you wanted with your life,” sobbed John. “I wouldn’t have forced you to live in my house and raise my children. You had an education, you were smart; you could have been so much more.”
“Is that what you think, John? Do you truly believe that having a college degree makes me too smart to be a housewife? That raising my children was beneath me? That my husband forced me to live the life he’d laid out for me?” asked Lynn. “John, I lived the life I wanted and I would not have traded one minute of it for the life you think I should have had.”
John was about to respond, when the voice in his head grew louder. For once in your life, open your eyes and your ears and pay attention!
“Do you honestly believe that you’re the only one who has ever been forced to deal with hardship and loss?” asked Bill. “I’ve got news for you: That stuff happens to everyone.”
John was about to speak, but instead he remained silent.
“My dad told me what happened on board your last DC6 flight. And John, you deserved to be fired. If the shoe were on the other foot, you would have done the same thing. Admit it, John, just admit it. You’ve even allowed your hate to alienate your own child. How can you use the words you do, but can’t even be bothered to reach out to your own child? You were given so much in your youth, but squandered the advantage. Grow up, old man,” said Bill, his hands no longer fists.
John could feel his neighbor’s words breaking through. Not only did he feel horrible about wishing ill-will on his neighbor’s grandchildren, but about everything. He’d wasted so much time. He looked back and saw a lifetime of foul-ups, misunderstandings and unhappiness. He could see the faces of all the pilots’ lives he’d ruined, having told himself that he was only doing his job. He began to feel an unfamiliar emotion: shame.
“God hands you twenty dollar bills for the world to see. But with me he holds back, handing me one dollar bills under the table,” stated John, his voice a mere whisper.
“What? Are you kidding? You must be crazy,” said Bill.
“No, I’m not crazy. I’ve seen it,” replied John.
“All I can say, John, is that I don’t know what to say. I think that’s just your perception of how it works. But regardless, if it is true, then the answer is way above my pay grade,” noted Bill.
John didn’t respond, and a short silence ensued.
Bill momentarily considered his grandson’s theory about John Tacker’s son. Kenneth had been a science major, and he did in fact hold a job at the Detroit Airport while in school. He wondered if Kenneth actually did tamper with the meals. And if he had, perhaps he was not trying to kill his parents, but was instead trying to kill him. It was a wild thought and he told himself to forget it; that the past was the past. Still, he was momentarily stunned by the possibility that he’d figured it out.
Sojourners of the Sky Page 34
