Jules laughed deep and said, “I’ll take the little bit. Tempest, you are something else… by the way; I miss the coffee mug you carried with you the other evening. It’s my favorite.”
“Aw, shoots. I was going to keep it to remember you.”
“Well, I guess I—.”
“I’m kidding. I’ll bring it back.” Downing the last of my stew, I said to Annette, “You done? let’s go check out Ottie’s thumb.”
Ottie’s thumb was a fingerless glove, thick but not bulky that fit over her hand. The replacement thumb was almost too real. Annette’s, “Whoa, the skin looks real and so does the nail,” said it all.
Proud, beaming, happy, Ottie said to us, “Watch this.” She placed her thumb on a metal washer on a table. The washer lifted with her rising thumb. “They put a small magnet under the skin at the tip. This is the best thumb in the world.”
“This is the best thumb in the world,” said it all about Ottie; a tough cookie, smart, but a mental GIF of her calmly shooting Jack brought the thought, ‘I pity the fool who takes her mild, sweet way of speaking as a sign of weakness’.
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The plane had a baggage compartment separate from the cockpit. The four hundred pounds of cargo Annette allowed us used only half of the space. Annette took charge of packing it and securing the load so it wouldn’t shift during flight.
One Thumb patted her new ‘quick draw’ holster. Shouldn’t we practice with them?”
I patted mine in turn. “Yeah, we will, but someplace with a wide field of view.”
Ottie, going after Annette, said, I’ll take one of the rear seats so you can watch the takeoff. Annette flies so good you don’t know you’re off the ground until it starts falling away.
Bending to enter through the gull-wing door was like getting into a luxury car. The upholstery and sidewalls had tan-colored leather coverings. The seats were wide and comfortable.
Settling into the bucket seat beside our pilot, I placed the Geiger counter on the console between us and said, “Let’s check out Memphis.”
“Wait,” Ottie called, “We have to ‘High five’!”
Without turning, Annette raised an open hand. I placed mine behind it and Ottie slapped hard.
Annette exclaimed, “Jesus Christ, Ottie that stung…” To me, “Next time your hand goes on top.
She taxied onto the runway and applied power. Acceleration pressed me back in the seat. The forest at the end of the runway grew rapidly closer. Ottie was correct; liftoff was smooth and glorious. Tennessee fell away as the plane bore ‘The Three Muskets’ aloft. They flew into the ‘Wild Blue Yonder’.
END
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Wow. Did you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it? I sure do hope so. I think Tempest will stick around in my thoughts for a good long while.
If you enjoyed this, I have many other titles available on Amazon. Two of my favorites are ‘Wornout Boots’ and ‘Annie Higgins’.
If you will spare a moment, a review would be nice and appreciated.
Terry McDonald (An old hermit in my off-grid small cabin in the forest of West Tennessee.)
Tempest of Tennessee (Episode 3): Tempest of Tennessee Page 18
