Sojourners of the Sky (9 page)

Sonny struggled, but could feel himself losing consciousness. He looked his attacker in the eyes, pleading silently for her to relent, willing her to have mercy, but all he saw was the fire of death staring back. His eyes shifted to and fro, signaling that he was in pain, but his killer would not give up. He saw a bright flash of light and wondered if it was the angel of death. He tried to focus. Oddly, he concluded, it was the light reflecting off of a silver fork that was poised in the fingers of Marie’s right hand.

Sonny stared at Marie’s magnificent body with regret. He could feel his eyes bulging out, but all colors began to run together; things became undefined. The last thing Sonny saw before he passed-out was the prize he’d sought, but would never again enjoy.

*

Charles opened his eyes, unsure of what was happening around him. He could almost sense his brain yelling at him to pay attention. It took a few seconds, but eventually the sound of the runaway propeller and the associated yaw brought him around. He tried to get up, but couldn’t.

*

Marie stood on Sonny’s neck for much longer than was necessary to kill him, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She’d felt his body go limp, but remained undeterred. This, she knew, was only going to end one way--her way.

When she thought it safe to do so, she moved her left foot and then stood with both feet firmly planted on the dead man’s neck. Life had left him, but still she stood, breathing heavily, struggling to regain her composure. Marie barely noticed that the racing engine noise had returned to normal.

*

“She’s going over onto her back!” cried Asa.

“Hang on, Asa! I’ve got it!” said John.

The airplane was out of control, but John stayed with it, trying desperately to right the ship. The acting captain channeled every one of his four thousand hours into his hands and feet, willing them to work in unison. Outside was a black void. With no way of knowing where the horizon was, John struggled to focus his eyes on the vibrating instruments. The blurry dials before him were all that he had; he knew they were the keys to survival. He told himself to concentrate.

John squinted at his artificial horizon and was shocked by what he saw. The gauge indicated that the airplane was rapidly approaching the edge of its approved operating envelope. The nose was pitched up nearly twenty degrees, and the bank was so steep, it looked like the four engine transport was indeed getting ready to flip over!

Mere moments before the out of control DC6 rolled completely inverted, John pushed the nose down, reduced the thrust on all four engines and then centered the rudder. After a few short seconds, he rolled the aircraft to the right and leveled the wings. Almost immediately, the airplane settled down.

Ever-so-slowly, sound crept into John’s consciousness. He could hear one of the propellers screaming in protest. John momentarily took his eyes off of the flight instruments and stole a quick glance at the engine gauges. Then, without looking, John’s hand found the number four prop control. Using his ears as a guide, he toggled it back to normal. Agonizing moments passed.

The senior copilot had successfully managed to tame the wild beast. John’s cool thinking under pressure, refusing to give up when all seemed lost, saved them all.

“What in the world are you doing?!” screamed John, as he pushed Lars aside to double-check the setting of the number four propeller.

“Sorry, John, I must have slipped,” said Lars, with fake sincerity in his voice.

“Are you trying to get us all killed, you fool?” asked John as his hands moved across the pedestal, resetting the power and checking to be sure that all the knobs, levers and controls were where they should be.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident,” claimed Lars.

John glared at Lars, but said nothing. He exhaled deeply and then turned to reengage the autopilot. Next, he methodically rechecked all of his instruments, pointing at each one as his eyes moved swiftly across the panel.

Ed Vito had been standing on his stool gazing at the stars when the sudden swaying caused him to fall backwards onto the flight engineer’s panel. A little scared and quite a bit surprised, he looked up and exclaimed, “Holy cow, Lars!”

Lars looked at Ed and asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m OK, but you’d better check your panel. I think I might have moved a couple of things when I fell.” Then a few moments later he added, “Hey, guys, check it out. G.R. snored through the whole thing.”

*

Marie could hear her husband calling her name as he rapped lightly on the door.

“Marie, honey, are you all right? Is everything OK?”

“I’m fine, dear. Give me a moment. I’ll be right out,” said Marie.

She struggled in the tiny room to get Sonny’s body upright. She pulled his underwear down to his ankles and then placed his lifeless buttocks on the toilet seat. When everything looked satisfactory, as if the poor unfortunate man had simply died of a heart attack, she took a minute to straighten her hair. Then, before exiting the lav, Marie took the unused fork and tossed it into the waste basket, grateful its use was not required.

Marie opened the door just enough to squeeze out and then closed it tightly behind her. She quickly grabbed her husband’s arm and said, “I missed you. I got so scared in there when the engine started acting up, I couldn’t move.”

“I’m just thankful you’re all right, honey,” said Dirk, as the two strolled quietly back to their seats.

*

“Captain, can you hear me? Captain Pratt, are you OK? Captain?”

“Uh, yes, I’m all right,” said the captain as he slowly climbed from the floor of the forward passenger compartment. Other men in suits stood nearby, watching, ready to lend a hand. And he could see two or three women in fine dresses standing safely away from the action.

Charles stood, brushed off his pants and shirt and then returned his white cap to its rightful place, taking a moment to be certain that it was adjusted just so. His jaw still throbbing, he rubbed it with both hands. It felt broken. He checked to see if his nose was bleeding, and was pleased that it wasn’t. With his head still spinning, Captain Pratt braced himself against the wall, struggling to gather his thoughts.

“Would you like me to get you something?” asked Kelly.

“I’m fine, thank you,” replied the Captain. Then looking toward the other passengers nearby, he added, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please accept my most sincere apologies for all of this unnecessary commotion. You may return to your seats. Everything is fine.”

Captain Charles Pratt slowly gathered himself together. He organized his thoughts and then opened the cockpit door. He stepped in, closed the door behind him and stood silently for a moment, gazing forward into the dimly lit cockpit.

Then rage.

Ten

“W
hat on God’s green earth are you doing, John! Are you deliberately trying to kill us all?” screamed Charles. “In all my years, I have not once witnessed such incompetence!”

“Charles, I…” offered John, before being cut off.

“Save it, Mister. Get out of my seat! You have proven yourself unworthy to sit there!” exclaimed Charles.

“Captain, if I may?” injected Lars.

“Yes, Lars, what is it?” asked Charles with anger and disgust in his voice.

“I was setting the mixture control and lost my footing. To catch myself, I unfortunately placed my palm over the number four prop switch and sent it into low pitch. It was an accident, sir, and totally my fault.”

Charles would not hear it. Though furious that an underling had lost control of the airplane and nearly killed them all, he was more upset at the notion of being hauled across the chief pilot’s carpet. The thought of being in trouble for something he had no control over left him unable to think straight. He knew that in a month’s time the head office would receive a letter or two from their frightened passengers, and he would be the one left holding the bag. Though he had no tangible evidence, he long feared that management was out to get him and he simply could not bear the thought of giving them any fuel for the fire.

Charles, like many pilots, lived in a near constant state of paranoia. It’s one of the reasons they are able to survive their careers. Though it’s wise for men of the air to avoid trusting anything or anyone completely, because they will likely get bit, those same fears often hinder their personal lives. Some figure that out and cope accordingly; Charles never did.

“Lars, who is the captain in my absence?” asked Charles in a biting tone.

“Well, sir…” said Lars.

“John is the acting captain, that’s who. If any of you men foul up, it’s the captain who will take the fall. I can just see the New York chief pilot now, standing behind his desk and threatening me with my job for allowing such incompetent fools to run the circus. Do you think he’ll listen if I tell him that it was your fault, Lars? Do you? Well, do you?” asked Charles, clearly annoyed. Then turning way from Lars he added, “John, take a one-hour break. Then I want you to come back up here and occupy the right seat for the remainder of the flight. I plan to keep a very close eye on you. At some point between now and the time we return to New York, I sincerely hope that you can convince me not to have you terminated. I will not be the only one who goes down because of this.”

John stood and proceeded to the aft part of the cockpit. He paused for a moment to defend himself, but then thought better of it. He decided the smarter play would be to allow his angry captain to calm down first.
Then maybe, just maybe
, he thought,
I can smooth this whole thing over before we get back to New York.
With his probation period nearly over, he simply could not allow any more screw-ups. John, concerned about his future, sincerely hoped he could dazzle his captain with exceptional performance before the trip concluded. After all, he still had a few days and it wouldn’t be over ‘till the fat lady sang.

John closed the cockpit door behind him feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just when it appeared as though he’d finally managed to get his life back on track the powers of the universe were once again messing with him, and holding his happiness hostage. He was both confused and frustrated. He had no idea why the gods were so intent on holding him down. John was forced to admit to himself that his life had probably always been completely out of his control. He wondered what it was that made him such a target for evil. He looked up from the floor in his creeping depression to see Liesel standing a few feet away, wearing a cautious smile.

In the blink of an eye nothing else in the world mattered; the woman of John’s dreams had brought him back to life with a smile. It was a remarkable transformation that Liesel could see and John could feel.

“Hi, Liesel, it’s wonderful to see you,” said John with a slight smile on the outside, but with a smile that screamed “I love you” on the inside.

“Wow! Are you all right, John?” asked Liesel with genuine concern. “What happened up there?”

“Do you have time to talk?” he asked.

“Yes, absolutely. Let’s go to the back to where we can almost be alone,” said Liesel.

Standing together in the aft part of the cabin, only a few feet from Sonny Viscelli’s body, John said, “Both pilots are required by company policy to monitor two frequencies while enroute. We listen to the facility controlling our aircraft as well as one other that we use for various enroute tasks. Sometimes there is a great deal of static on the higher frequencies, so only the pilot who is actually talking on the radio will monitor and communicate. Asa misheard a clearance that could have caused some problems had we not caught it in time. Unfortunately, Charles overheard the entire thing. Then the moment he left the cockpit, Lars accidently pushed one of our props up to its maximum RPM. Of course it didn’t take long for things to get a little crazy. Now Charles is considering having me terminated. Liesel, we have to change his mind somehow. My probation period is nearly over.”

“How did Lars make such a big mistake?” asked Liesel.

“He said he slipped. I thought the air was rather smooth, but I suppose he could have lost his footing.”

“Yeah, once you guys started climbing it got real smooth back here,” noted Liesel.

“It is curious, but I have no reason to doubt Lars. An accident is the only plausible explanation,” said John. “Liesel, I can’t go back to the way it was, I can’t. I have a job that I love, and I even managed to meet a wonderful woman like you.”

Liesel didn’t immediately respond.

John frowned and shook his head,
wondering,
Was it an accident? Could it be that Lars did it on purpose? But why?

Eleven

“W
ow, Grandpa,” said Jack, “it sounds like Mr. Tacker was a pretty good pilot.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was. After all, Pan Am only hired the best,” replied Bill. “Now, did you tighten the bleed screws on the brake lines like I told you? We don’t want any air getting into those lines,” he added as he walked around the airplane, stopping every few feet to inspect his grandchildren’s work.

“Yes sir, I sure did.” said Jack. “Just like you said.”

“OK, kids, now it’s important that we all understand our jobs. This engine hasn’t been started for quite a while, so we have to be ready for anything. Lucy, don’t panic if you see a fire. Just remember what I said: Aim the nozzle of the extinguisher at the base of the flame and sweep it back and forth. Jack, you stand off to the side and make sure everything is clear. If something goes awry, wave your arms and sing out,” said Bill.

“Grandpa, what…?” asked Jack, before he was cut off.

“Awry means something wrong,” said Bill, knowing his grandson’s question before it was asked. If something looks wrong, yell as loud as you can.” Then, taking a moment to look each of his grandchildren in the eye, Bill asked, “So, does everyone understand what they’re supposed to do?” Lucy and Jack nodded.

Except for an oil leak they’d discovered while replacing all of the hoses and belts on the engine, the airplane rebuild had gone smoothly. Considering how long the aging Cessna had sat unattended and in pieces in the back of the barn, Bill’s little gem was in remarkably good shape. Based on their progress, Bill figured they’d be ready to fly in less than a week.

Bill Pratt was absolutely ecstatic about spending time getting to know his grandchildren and working together on a project they all loved, but he was also troubled. It had been a long time since he’d piloted an airplane, and even longer since he’d flown a single engine trainer. He would never say so aloud, but he silently fretted that his skills might be too rusty to handle the tiny two-seater if something went wrong. The last airplane he’d flown was a B747, and he knew from experience that flying a big Boeing is nothing like flying a trainer. Bill quieted his mind by telling himself repeatedly to make sure the winds were light for their first flight. He knew if the atmosphere was calm, his barely heavier-than-air Cessna would be much easier to control. Unlike the Boeing, which was putty in his hands regardless of the winds, a Cessna 150 would be all over the sky on a gusty day. If an anomaly were to pop up while he battled the turbulence, things could quickly escalate out of control.

“OK, kids, I’m about to turn the key. Everybody stand by!” yelled Bill from inside the cockpit.

Jack and Lucy looked on from a distance. Jack was all smiles, fidgeting like a young boy awaiting a treat. Lucy, on the other hand, was cautiously optimistic. She gripped the fire extinguisher, dearly hoping it would not be needed.

Bill turned the key, but nothing happened. He looked around, wondering what he’d missed. He sighed and then frowned. He waited a minute and then tried again. This time the engine cranked over. It cranked and cranked and cranked, but refused to come to life. Bill moved the throttle in and out a few times, the equivalent of pumping the gas pedal in a car, and then tried again.

The one hundred horsepower Continental engine instantly sprang to life, catching Bill a little off-guard. Since he’d set the parking brake, Bill didn’t have his feet planted firmly on the brakes. In addition, the long-retired pilot had left the throttle in the full forward position. All of a sudden, the engine RPM lunged for redline!

The sudden noise startled the old man, and it took a few seconds for Bill to come up to speed. During those few seconds, the airplane lurched forward and then sped across the grass!

Lucy knew instantly that something was amiss. She dropped the fire extinguisher and dove for the ground, moments before the wing sliced through the air where she had been standing.

Jack, watching the whole thing with wide eyes, backed up a few feet and yelled as loud as he could, “Hit the brakes!”

Bill couldn’t hear anything except for the screaming engine. His brain seemed stuck in the mud, and he momentarily panicked, wondering what to do next. It was only a matter of seconds though, before his many thousands of hours of experience told him what to do. He hit the brakes hard, but the pedals mushed to the floor. He looked up and saw only the side of his barn approaching much too fast. He tried the brakes again, and this time the left brake caught, but the right side mushed all the way to the floor.

The sudden application of full braking on only the left side, forced the raging Cessna to pivot hard to the left. No longer was Bill seeing the side of his barn--the turn had him staring right into his grandson’s eyes! He looked up and saw fear in Jack’s face. He removed his foot from the left brake, but it was too little, too late.

Jack, acting purely out of a sense for survival, turned and ran toward some trees. He ran as fast as he could. As he raced, time seemed to slow. Nearly out of breath, he reluctantly imagined that he was making no headway whatsoever. He could practically feel the Cessna nipping at his back. Making a split-second decision, he spun on his heels and sprinted with all his might in another direction. He fought the urge to look over his shoulder, but he shouldn’t have. With his back toward the action, he didn’t realize that his last turn put him on an even more direct collision course with the spinning propeller!

Things were rapidly escalating out of control and Bill knew he had to do something else before it was too late. His mind then replayed the words of one of his instructors from somewhere in his distant past,
Bill, do not hurry. Identify the problem; then act quickly and deliberately.
The wisdom forced Bill to become like a robot, analyzing what had to be done and then doing it.

Bill jammed the left rudder pedal to the floor, forcing the Cessna to veer away from his grandson. He then pulled the mixture control to cut-off, effectively starving the engine of fuel. The engine quickly sputtered into silence, but the airplane was still traveling at a good clip. The old captain then released the left brake pedal and told himself to hang on. He waited a second and then pushed both brake pedals at the same time while pulling the parking brake lever to full-on. He knew the toe brakes, located on top of the rudder pedals, worked independently of the parking brake. It worked. Seconds later, the airplane skidded violently to a stop. The excitement was over.

Jack was at his grandfather’s side first. “Are you all right?” he shouted.

“Yes, I’m OK,” said Bill. “How about you?”

“Man, that was way cool!” exclaimed Jack.

“I guess we know the engine works. Now all we need to do is fix the brakes,” observed Bill.

Jack and Bill stared at each other for nearly a minute. Bill’s first instinct was to scream his head off, but he also wanted to beg for forgiveness. He did neither. Bill realized that as a young father he would have found a way to blame his children for his stupidity and then yell at them for being reckless. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake with his grandchildren. It was an opportunity to be a different man. He knew he’d screwed up, and figured that his grandkids knew too. No words were required, at least not yet.

Jack waited for the angry words that never came. He was a kid. He knew adults always managed to find a way to blame someone else. When he saw his grandfather crack a smile, Jack knew inside, though he didn’t quite understand it all, that it was the beginning of something. Indeed, he was leaving boyhood behind, and embarking on the road to manhood. He’d been accepted by an adult as an equal.

Lucy ran to her grandfather’s side, clutching the fire extinguisher that she’d discarded earlier. Her mind was clear and she would do whatever it took to make sure her family was safe. Once satisfied that everything was OK, she lashed out at them. She flung the extinguisher to the ground and exclaimed, “We are going to have to be more careful! Somebody could have been killed here!”

Bill turned and looked at his granddaughter with surprise. “Yes, you’re right, dear. I take full responsibility. From now on, you are in charge of safety. It’s up to you to make sure Jack does as he’s told, and that I don’t do anything stupid.”

“OK, that’s fine,” she said. “From now on, I’m the boss.” As she turned to look for any damage to the Cessna, she noticed John Tacker staring at them from his back porch. She could tell that he was not happy. “He’s back,” said Lucy, nodding her head in Tacker’s direction.