Sojourners of the Sky (5 page)

Five

D
irk and Marie Myers, sitting together in the tenth row, could not get enough of each other. Though people were staring, neither of the newlyweds seemed to notice or care. It almost appeared as if the two were slowly merging into one giant person. Lips, hands, legs and hair roiled together into a mass of humanity that seemed to be generating an incredible amount of heat.

Sonny, who just happened to be sitting across the aisle from the young couple, was both amused and intrigued. He wished he too could somehow join in on the fun. Though others may have found the display distasteful, Sonny found it arousing.

Sonny was a salesman whose job required him to be on the road at least two weeks per month. Since he was away so often, he frequently paid women to accompany him for the evening. Sometimes his regulars spent the entire night at his side and sometimes they did not. He saw nothing wrong with that. After all, he was a man; it was practically expected of him. Never did it bother him that while he frolicked, his wife was faithfully holding down the fort. He always just assumed that since she was married, she would remain celibate in his absence.

When he found the unmarked envelope containing three pictures of his wife and neighbor in a very compromising position, his world collapsed. There was no note. It looked like the photos were snapped from outside their ground floor bedroom window. He had no idea who’d taken them, but was grateful that someone had the courtesy to inform him that his wife had been making a fool of him. But at the same time, Sonny was outraged. Not only was he angry about his wife’s infidelity, but more so that others in the neighborhood knew. It was a gauntlet at Sonny’s feet: his manhood was being called into question.

While half of Sonny’s brain pondered his situation, wondering how his wife could ever do such a thing, the other half was being stimulated by the unbridled lust playing out before him. He was about to feel sorry for himself, but the slurping and moaning emanating from the couple nearby brought him back to the present. And, as usual, his sensual side won out. After staring at the couple for practically ten minutes with total mental focus, a fantasy began to take over his mind. If the moment of opportunity should arrive, Sonny would be ready.

*

“We’re on top, Ed,” announced John, letting their navigator know that the clouds were beneath them.

Ed didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his sextant and a small stool stored under his desk and proceeded to the center of the cockpit. Once the stool was set, he pulled a small curtain down that was held up by a clasp in the ceiling. Ed took care to make sure the curtain remained in the small guide vanes as he unfurled the long piece of fabric that would create a small enclosed circular room necessary to block much of the ambient light. He stood on the stool and was pulling the curtain around him when Liesel entered the cockpit.

“Ed, why don’t you step down from there? I think John might need some practice looking at the stars tonight,” suggested Liesel.

“That might work if we wanted to find Bermuda instead of England,” joked Ed.

“I’ll go inside the curtain with him, just in case he needs some encouragement,” said Liesel with a smile.

John turned and smiled. He was totally smitten with Liesel, but was much too shy to make the first move. He wanted to engage her in conversation, but feared the rejection. John knew inside that if he was ever going to speak with Liesel, she would have to be the one to break the ice. He didn’t like knowing that, but accepted it nonetheless.

Liesel knew John was interested because he seemed to fall to pieces whenever she was nearby. She’d tried dropping hints that she wanted to get to know him better, but he never picked up on any of them. Watching the two newlyweds in row ten ignited a spark inside of her nearly perfect five-foot-six body. After deciding that it was time to take the next step, Liesel brushed her long hair to the side and proceeded deeper into the cockpit.

The young stewardess sat on John’s lap and then gently pushed the fingers of her left hand through his thick brown hair, while running the fingers of her right hand through her own natural blond and slightly curly hair. “How about it, John, do you want to practice looking at the stars tonight?” she asked with a smile.

John was speechless. He could feel his blood heating up and coursing through his body. He wanted her badly, but was frozen. All John could manage was a very enthusiastic smile.

Charles looked up from his newspaper and said, “Now’s your chance, John.”

Even G.R., who had better things to do, stopped briefly to watch the show. “Hey Liesel, when you’re done here, I could use another cup of joe,” he said.

“Come on, John. What’s it going to take?” asked Liesel seductively. “You have such handsome brown eyes.”

“You know what, Liesel, I could use some coffee, too,” said Charles with a smile.

“I’m busy, guys,” she said. “I’ve got my hands full.”

In a somewhat muffled voice from under the curtain, Ed chuckled, “Hurry up and do something, John. It’s starting to get hot in here.”

Liesel put her mouth to John’s ear and whispered, “I want to get to know you. Summon up the courage and come back and talk to me when you go on break. I promise I won’t bite…unless you want me too.”

John nodded, while uttering a barely audible, “I’ll see you later.”

As the blond haired, blue-eyed bombshell left the cockpit, Charles, just before burying his nose back in the newspaper, said, “Come back anytime, Liesel. It’s always a pleasure.”

“I think she wants you, John. You’d better make your move soon or she’ll find somebody else’s backyard to play in,” said G.R. “Trust me.”

“Yes, I know,” said John. “Something about that woman gets me all knotted up inside whenever she’s around. She makes me feel like an idiot.”

“You should get on with it,” suggested Ed as he climbed down from the stool. “That woman is practically throwing herself at you. If you don’t act soon, she’ll be gone forever.”

“I hear you,” replied John.

“Now give me a few minutes to work the numbers,” said Ed. “There are plenty of stars out there tonight so I was able to get some good sightings.”

Even though John had been mesmerized by Liesel’s presence, he did manage to keep one eye on the radio compass and the other on his VOR (Very high frequency Omni directional Range: a ground based navigation aid).

The moment Liesel was out of the cockpit, John picked up his microphone to report their position to the air traffic controllers. As he spoke, he glanced outside. In the distance off to the left, he could see a smattering of lights on the otherwise imperceptible darkened ground. Off to his right, there was only ocean, visible through the moonlit breaks in the clouds.

“Clipper forty-two, contact Moncton control on HF frequency two eight niner one. Goodnight,” advised the New York controller.

“Clipper forty-two, wilco. Goodnight,” said John.

John checked on frequency with the controllers located in Moncton, Canada. There was little radio chatter to be heard, with the exception of two other Pan Am flights that would be making their Atlantic crossing ahead of flight forty-two. John knew the pilots on both flights and was familiar with the flight numbers, as well as their destinations. He drew a mental picture in his mind of the location of each airplane as they passed along their time estimates to the controller. Knowing where everyone was could prove invaluable, if for no other reason than to obtain weather information ahead.

On his number two radio John dialed in the frequency for weather ship “Echo,” one of two Coast Guard ships stationed east of Gander, Newfoundland, used to pass along position reports and weather observations when necessary. Later in the flight, he would monitor the frequency for weather ship “Bravo,” located further south of their intended track.

The air was smooth and the sky was rapidly clearing: a perfect night for flying.

Shortly after Clipper forty-two passed a few miles east of Nova Scotia, Canada, G.R. announced, “Charles, I’m detecting an anomaly on engine number four.”

Six

M
ark Small wasn’t convinced that flying was the safest way to travel. Indeed, it was the first time the twenty-three-year-old man had ever been on an airplane. But with his mother gravely ill, there was simply no choice. Mark had to get home as quickly as possible. Born to parents that looked much like him, the blond-haired, blue-eyed, square-jawed nervous flyer was beside himself.

Sitting in row fourteen near the window, the takeoff alone practically scared Mark out of his wits. The noise created by the four engines during the takeoff run was so overwhelming he could barely hear himself think. Then, while rolling down the runway with his eyes shut tight, he could feel the entire airplane shuddering and fishtailing back and forth. Even after they were airborne, the airplane continued to vibrate and roar; frightening him beyond anything he’d ever experienced. It took the better part of an hour just to calm his nerves and get his heart rate back to where it should be. When the airplane finally broke free of the clouds, allowing him to view the moon and some stars, he began to believe that everything would be all right.

Eventually, Mark grew accustomed to the drone of the engines and was finally able to sit back and relax. After downing a couple of stiff drinks, Mark loosened his shoe laces, closed his eyes and could feel himself starting to drift off. He remained calm right up until he heard one of the engines outside his window skip a beat.

Mark was an auto mechanic, he knew engines, and his ear was telling him that something was not right. He wanted to call one of the stewardesses over, but decided to wait and see if it fixed itself. Attempting to soothe himself, he did what he always did when he had trouble sleeping at night; he began to rebuild an automobile engine in his mind.

*

Charles looked up from his paper and asked, “What do you have, G.R?”

“Well, besides my good looks and extremely calm demeanor, the number two spark plug attached to the number fourteen cylinder on engine number four has developed a slight variance,” replied G.R.

“Are you sure it’s a plug and not the magneto?” asked Charles.

“I suppose I could put my ear up against the right side window and listen, but I think the analyzer is correct. My guess is the Dell clamp on the plug is shorting out.”

“Any recommendations?”

“Not much we can do,” advised G.R. “There is a silver dollar-sized rubber nipple that is supposed to prevent this, but it probably tore itself apart. She might start running a little rough, but for now I think we are OK to continue.”

Charles stopped himself from reminding G.R. that they had an ocean of water to fly over and would prefer to not do so with a bum engine. He knew G.R. would never put his airplane at risk. He took him at his word and went back to his newspaper, while at the same time increasing his nonchalant scan of the engine gauges.

The cockpit crew, now that they were all paying closer attention, could hear the engine noise change every so often. It was faint, but they could hear the rhythm momentarily interrupted for a few seconds before returning to normal. Since the problem didn’t seem to be getting any worse, the cockpit crew, with the exception of G.R., slowly let the issue slip from their minds; freeing them up to focus on other matters.

“Clipper forty-two, contact Gander control on six six five five. Goodnight,” advised the controller.

“Clipper forty-two, wilco. Goodnight,” said John.

As soon as John checked in with the Gander controller he was queried for his estimate to the Shark intersection. This imaginary point located fifty miles offshore would be the point where flight forty-two would technically begin its ocean crossing. Each point in their flight plan, made up of degrees of latitude and longitude, represented a prearranged track they were to fly. Though there weren’t many flights operating over the oceans in 1958, there were enough that controllers had to separate them, and did so vertically with altitude and laterally using invisible highways called “tracks.”

Before John had a chance to ask their navigator where the estimates were, Ed handed him a piece of paper with the numbers he needed. John looked up with a smile and said, “Gee, Ed, take your time why don’t you?”

Moments after John finished passing along flight forty-two’s time estimates for each point in their flight plan, Charles said, “John, why don’t you take a twenty minute break. When you come back, I’ll get some sack time. Wake Asa on your way back so he can sit here and keep an eye on me while you’re gone.”

Before John left the cockpit, with his hand clutching the doorknob, he took a deep breath. The time to face Liesel had come. He only hoped that he wouldn’t come completely unglued before it was all over.

When he reached the cabin, John noticed that Liesel was standing in the back of the airplane having a discussion with the other two stewardesses.

“The drink service is not supposed to be done that way,” advised Kelly.

“Come on, Kelly, it’s not a big deal,” said Sue.

“It will be a big deal if there’s a Pan Am spy on board checking up on me--watching how I run the service,” said Kelly with obvious concern.

“I doubt there are any spies on board. But if it helps to keep the peace, I’ll do it your way,” conceded Sue.

“It’s not my way. I’m simply doing what I’m told,” said Kelly.

“Let’s just do what she says,” suggested Liesel.

“Thank you, Liesel,” said Kelly.

“You know, if you insist on being this bossy, Kelly, you’re never going to find a man,” noted Sue, completely unaware of how much her remark would injure her colleague. A moment later she looked up and gasped, suddenly cognizant that their senior copilot was rapidly approaching. Sue quickly recovered and looked at John with a smile, hoping he hadn’t overheard their conversation.

John heard the part about finding a man, but pretended not to. He looked at Sue and decided wisely to simply return the smile. Then, with much trepidation, he walked slowly toward Liesel, practicing in his mind what he would say. When John was about ten feet away, Liesel turned and smiled brightly. A brief moment later, John’s mind went totally blank.

“Hello, handsome. What brings you here?” asked Liesel.

“I, uh,” said John, before clearing his throat to try again. “I, uh, rather thought we might talk. That is if you can spare the time.”

Noting that John was looking at the floor, Liesel asked, “Are you talking to your feet or to me?”

John immediately looked up and answered, “You, of course.”

“What do you want to talk about?” asked Liesel in a playful tone. She knew John was struggling and decided to egg him on a bit more. She was in her mid-twenties and took the job with Pan Am simply to see the world and have fun. Whereas some stewardesses were “slam-clickers,” closing their hotel room door and locking themselves in for the duration of the layover, Liesel was the partying kind. She liked John but was in no way looking for a husband, at least not yet.

“If you’re too busy, I can come back,” suggested John.

“I’m not busy. What do you want to talk about?” she asked again.

“I thought we might talk about, oh, I don’t know, perhaps having dinner or something,” said John, struggling with every word.

Opposite the two aft lavs located behind first class there were two small closets full of coats and jackets. Liesel grabbed John’s hand and pulled him into the rearmost part of the cabin. She stopped next to one of the closets where she hoped they could be alone. When she was certain that they could not easily be overheard, Liesel spun him around and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then she said, “It’s about time you talked to me. I’ve been hoping you’d ask me out ever since we met. I swear I’ve never met anyone as shy as you, Mr. John Tacker.”

“Liesel, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes upon. Whenever you’re around my mind turns to mush. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” replied Liesel, while caressing John’s forearm with her silky soft hand. What followed was an awkward silence that hung in the air--one that Liesel hoped John would break. When it became obvious that the reluctant copilot wouldn’t, “Tell me about yourself,” she asked. “Where are you from?”

For the next twenty-five minutes, John told Liesel his story. Since it was his version, he had no misgivings whatsoever about glossing over the parts that might make him look bad. This, he knew, was the time to build himself up. He had to get it right.

“Let me get this straight. Now, Bill Pratt is our captain’s son?” asked Liesel, pointing toward the cockpit.

“Yes, it’s a strange coincidence; that’s for sure. But Bill and I aren’t friends anymore. We haven’t been for a long time. Charles must know that because he never talks about Bill or about when we were kids. Charles was gone for long stretches when we were growing up. I suppose he was off flying around the world for Pan Am, so he might not remember me from back then,” said John.

“How come you two are no longer friends?” asked Liesel.

“Wow,” said John as he exhaled deeply, “that’s a long story.”

“Before you tell me, I think I should tell you something about Charles,” said Liesel. But before she could speak, John cut her off.

“Oh, gee!” exclaimed John, after looking at his watch. “I’m sorry, Liesel, but speaking of Charles, he expected me back up front five minutes ago. I have to go.”

“Let’s talk again later, before you take a nap, OK?” suggested Liesel.

“Yes, let’s,” said John as he turned and hurriedly made his way to the cockpit. When he approached Kelly and Sue in the forward part of the cabin, he stopped briefly to ask about the couple necking in the tenth row. He hesitated for only a second, noticed the two stewardesses were still quietly arguing, and then continued forward after deciding to let the matter drop.

John entered the cockpit and noticed that Charles had already vacated his seat. Since the curtain was drawn around the lower bunk and the upper bunk was vacant, John assumed Charles must have grown tired of waiting. He squeezed past Ed, Lars and G.R., all of whom were engaged in a very heated discussion using muted voices.

“What’s going on, Asa?” asked John as he buckled himself into the left seat.

“We just passed fifty degrees north, fifty degrees west. And according to Ed, we are on course to our next waypoint. Gander got our last position report, and as of the last time I checked, the weather ahead is looking good,” responded Asa.

“Sounds great; thanks. What’s going on back there?” asked John, while nodding his head toward the back of the cockpit.

“I’m not really sure. I overheard Lars talking with G.R. about some guy in the back, and somehow Ed got involved. I’ve been monitoring the radio so I didn’t get any details. There’s plenty of static on our assigned HF frequency tonight. Maybe that means we’ll get to see some Aurora Borealis,” observed Asa.

*

“Lars, me boy, it looks like you’ve been caught with your pants down, so to speak,” noted G.R. “I suggest you give him time to calm down and then talk to him. Try sticking with the truth as much as you can, but don’t blame it on her. Make it seem like you couldn’t resist and that she fought you every step of the way. That might soothe him a little. I mean, a man is a man.”

“You didn’t see him, G.R., he was fuming,” said Lars.

“Wouldn’t you be?” snapped G.R.

“G.R. is right. Give it a little time. If that doesn’t work, then you’d better learn to sleep with one eye open,” suggested Ed.

“Look, at this point you don’t have a choice,” said G.R. “I mean, what else are you going to do, duke it out with him right here on the airplane?”

Lars looked at Ed for further confirmation of what he should do next.

“Or you’ll simply have to kill him first,” stated Ed with a deadpan expression. “I doubt Pan Am would understand though, so you’ll have to do it on your own time. In the meantime, I have to go gawk at some stars.”

Both Lars and G.R. paused for a moment, unsure of whether their navigator was joking or not. He wasn’t.

“OK, I’ll go back in a few minutes and see if I can get a feel for him. Maybe a few drinks will have softened him up,” said Lars.

“Just be careful. Take it slow and easy,” suggested Ed.

“Yeah, kid, I’ll back you up if you need some muscle, but I’d prefer to avoid gunplay if at all possible,” offered G.R.

“Thanks guys. Really, thanks,” said Lars as he stood to peek into the cabin.

*

“OK, make sure the crank is within tolerances. And don’t forget, the cylinders will have to be honed. If you fail to do that, the new rings will wear out prematurely and it will cost you more in the end,” said Mark Small, speaking silently to himself. His ear told him that one of the engines was still missing a beat. At first it seemed random, but after paying closer attention he heard the skip every time the airplane banked to the right. He was doing all he could to calm his nerves.

Something was definitely amiss.