Wings (44 page)

“What are you going to do after all this?” she asked Billy as they shared a sandwich two hours out from Pago Pago. The woman at the place they'd stayed had been very nice, and had insisted on giving them a basket of fruit and sandwiches, which turned out to be delicious.

“Me?” Billy thought about it. “I don't know… invest my money somewhere, maybe like your father did. I'd like to run a charter service somewhere. Maybe even someplace crazy like Tahiti.” He had really loved Papeete. “What about you, Cass?” They had nothing but time on their hands, as they shared the basket of food, and flew over the shimmering Pacific.

“I don't know. I get confused sometimes. Sometimes I think this is it for me… planes… test flights… airports… that's all I want… other times I wonder if I should do other things, like be married, and have kids.” She looked sad for a moment, looking out at the horizon. “I thought I had it worked out with Desmond, but I guess not. I don't know,” she shrugged, “I guess I'll have to refigure it when we go home. I sure didn't win on this one.”

“I think you had the right idea, wrong guy. It happens that way sometimes. What about Nick?”

“What about him?” She still didn't have any of the answers. He had been so adamant about not marrying her before, but maybe now, after Desmond, it would be different. She still hadn't told him. And who knew when she'd see him again? Who knew anything now, except what they were doing right now. For the moment, life was very simple.

The stop at Howland was very emotional for her because of Amelia Earhart. She and Billy were carrying a wreath to drop from the plane just before they reached the island.

Billy opened a window for her, just as they came in to land, and she dropped it with a silent prayer for the woman she had never known but admired all her life. She thanked her for being an example to her, and hoped she had had an easy death, and a life that was worthwhile to her. Looking at lives like hers, it was hard to know what people felt, or who they really were. Now that Cassie had been devoured by the press, she knew that most of it meant nothing. But she felt an odd kinship with her idol as she and Billy landed quietly after a twelve-hundred-mile flight. It was so simple for them. It had gone so easily. Why couldn't it have been that way for Amelia Earhart?

Billy patted her knee as the plane came to a stop; it was easy to see all that she was feeling, and he loved her for it.

At Howland, there were photographers waiting for them, courtesy of Desmond Williams. And the expected parallels were drawn between Cassie and Amelia Ear-hart.

They were only planning to spend one night, before the nearly two-thousand-mile flight to Honolulu. And it was there that Desmond had planned ceremonies and events, awards and honors, press conferences and films, and even a demonstration of the
North Star
to the Army at Hickam Airfield. It sounded exciting to both of them, but it was also a little scary. Everything was so much simpler here. In some ways it would be the last night of peace they had for a long time. And Cassie hated the prospect of seeing Desmond again. Just thinking about it depressed her.

She was quiet when they had dinner alone that night, and with what lay ahead of them, Billy wasn't surprised, that and the fact that she was still feeling emotional about Earhart.

“It's scary going back to all of it again, isn't it?” she said after dinner, sipping a cup of coffee.

“Yeah… and exciting.” It was less complicated for him, he didn't have the strain of her history with Desmond. “it'll all be over soon, in a great flash of light,” he beamed, “like a Fourth of July firework display, now you see it, now you don't, catch the shooting star. Well be famous for a minute, and then gone,” he said prophetically, “until someone else flies farther and faster.” But they'd be remembered for a long time. Their fame wouldn't be gone as quickly as he thought. Desmond was right about some things, and what they were doing was important.

‘This time tomorrow night, well be in Honolulu, Miss O'Malley,” he said, toasting her with a small glass of wine. He only had a few sips, knowing that the next day he'd be flying. ‘think of the fanfare, the excitement.” His eyes danced and she smiled wanly.

“I'd rather not. I go pale thinking of it. Maybe we should just go back, and surprise them by going home the way we came. Now there's a thought.” She laughed at the idea and he shook his head, amused by her. They always had a good time together.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Williams, my pilot was confused, well, you know how it is… she's just a girl… girls can't really fly, everyone knows that… actually, she had the map upside down…” They were both laughing, amused at their own schemes, but the next day, when they took off, some of what she'd said proved to be prophetic.

They hit an unexpected lightning storm two hundred miles out, and after assessing the situation, and the winds, they agreed to go back to Howland Island. And as they attempted to land, it grew to a tropical storm of surprising proportions, and Cassie couldn't help wondering if this was what had happened to Noonan and Ear-hart. But she had her hands full bringing the plane down in ferocious winds that almost blew them off the island. In the end, they came down hard and fast in a cross-wind, and almost missed the runway. It took everything she had to bring the
North Star
down, and when they stopped, they were within inches of landing in the water.

“May I remind you,” Billy said casually to her as she fought to turn the plane around, ‘that if you drop this airplane in the drink, we're going to be in serious trouble with Mr. Williams.”

She couldn't help but laugh at his warning, and she wasn't entirely sorry to spend another night on Howland. It was far from an exciting place, but at least her life was peaceful. Perhaps for the last time. She couldn't imagine what it would be like for them after Honolulu.

By late that night, the storm had calmed down but they discovered early the next morning that it had damaged their direction finder beyond repair. She and Billy both felt it was safe to fly on anyway, but they radioed ahead to Honolulu that they would need a new one upon arrival. The day was sunny and bright as they left early for the eighteen-hundred-mile flight to Honolulu. But three hundred miles out of Howland, they ran into another problem. It seemed to be a problem with one of their engines. Billy was checking for an oil leak, with a quiet frown, and she was watching him, checking their gauges.

“Want to go back?” she asked calmly, keeping her eyes on her instruments.

“I'm not sure yet,” he answered, still puzzled.

He played with one of the engines for a while, listening, fixing, adjusting, and after another hundred miles out, he reassured her that everything was in control. She nodded and kept a close eye on the instruments, she wanted to be sure she agreed with him.

Cassie left nothing to chance, which was why she was so good. Billy appeared to be a lot more casual than she was, but he was also extraordinarily careful. And he had an uncanny sixth sense about flying, which was why she loved flying with him. They were a perfect team.

She changed her course slightly after that, to avoid some heavy clouds ahead, and what looked like rough weather. And it was early afternoon when he looked out at the autumn sky, and then at her compass. “Are you sure we're heading right? It feels off to me.”

‘Trust your compass,” she said, sounding like an instructor, as she smiled at him. It was the one instrument she always trusted and the only reliable information they had, since both the sextant and the direction finder had broken in the storm.

‘Trust your eyes… your nose… your guts… and then your compass.” He was right, as it turned out. With a brisk wind they were slightly off course, but not enough to worry them, and then as she checked the instruments again, she looked up and saw smoke in their number-two engine and thin streams of fuel running back across the number one.

“Shit,” she muttered and pointed it out to him as she cut the power to the number-two engine and feathered the prop. They were already a long way from Howland. “We'd better go back.” They'd been in the air for two hours, and were already out of radio contact.

“Anything closer than that?” He checked the map, and saw a small island. “What's this?”

“I'm not sure.” She looked at it. “It looks like bird shit.”

“Very funny. Give me a reading, where are we?” She read the compass off to him, while he looked out at the engine. He wasn't pleased with what he saw, or the knowledge that they were carrying (our hundred gallons of fuel near the engine.

They flew on for a few more minutes and decided to try for the island they'd seen on the map. But Cassie was worried about putting the
North Star
down there. If the island was too small, the plane too large, they wouldn't make it. They agreed to land on the beach if they had to. They were out of radio range. Billy checked the engine again, but the news wasn't good. Then he put the headphones on and tried sending distress signals
to
any ships that might be near them.

But as they looked out the window, they both saw that the engine was burning.

“Happy birthday, Cass. And that's not a cake.”

“Shit.”

“Precisely. How far are we from Bird Shit Island?”

“Maybe another fifty miles, give or take a few.”

“Wonderful. Just what we need, another fifteen minutes with four hundred gallons of fuel in our armpits. Oh goody.”

“Go sing to yourself or something,” she said calmly.

“You have the worst ideas,” he said while flipping some levers, and checking the other engine. “No wonder you can't get a decent job.” They were joking, but they were not amused. The
North Star
was in trouble.

Ten minutes later the island came into view, and they checked it out No flatland. Nothing but trees, and what looked like a small mountain.

“How well can you swim?” he asked conversationally, handing her a life jacket as a matter of routine. He already knew that she was an excellent swimmer. “Looks like we're going to the beach, eh, ducky?”

“Maybe so, cowboy… maybe so…” She was concentrating on holding the plane. It was starting to pull very badly. And the other engine had begun to smoke too. “What do you suppose is happening?” They were both puzzled by what was going on, but they wouldn't know what till they reached the ground. And that was going to be soon now. At first Billy had thought the fuel lines were clogged, but that wasn't it. Something was defective.

‘Too much lighter fluid maybe?”

“Well, don't light up a Lucky now,” she warned him, prepared to land. She circled the island twice, made a pass at the beach once, and took off again, with both engines burning. She knew she needed to dump fuel, but there just wasn't time now.

“You want to try for New York?” he asked calmly, watching her maneuver the heavy plane over the tiny island.

“I think maybe Tokyo,” she answered, never taking her eyes off what she was doing. “Tachikawa is going to pay a fortune for the test flight.”

“Great idea. Let's try it. Who needs Desmond Williams?”

“Okay, here we go again,” Cassie said, concentrating on every detail. “Christ, that beach is short dammit…” And the engines were hot and flaming.

“I hate to say this, my dear,” Billy said calmly, putting on his own life jacket, “but if you don't get your ass down there soon, we are going to make a very embarrassing explosion on this island. It might make a very bad impression on the natives.”

“I'm working on it,” she said through her teeth.

“Want some help?”

“From a kid like you? Hell, no.” She came in as low as she could, and used all her strength on the stick; she was almost down, and had just overshot the beach when they hit the water. The plane came to a stop, and sank slowly into three feet of water, as she cut the switches, hoping it wouldn't explode but there was no guarantee now.

“Nice landing, now let's go. Fast.” He grabbed her to push her from the plane, before she could take anything. Instinctively, she reached for their emergency kit, while he struggled to get the door open. Both engines were on fire, and you could feel the heat in the cockpit. He had the door open by then, and shouted to her. “Co!” He pushed her out and clear of the plane almost before she knew what had hit her. He had the log and a small knapsack in his hand that she knew held their money, and that was it. They waded through the water as fast as they could and headed for the beach at a dead run. They ran another fifty feet down to the end of it, and just as they reached it, there was an enormous explosion. They turned and watched as the entire plane was outlined in flames, and pieces of it flew into the trees and farther into the water. There was a huge tunnel of fire towering above it, from their fuel, and it burned for hours as they watched it in shocked fascination.

“So long,
North Star
,“ Billy said, as the last of it disappeared into the water. All that was left was a shell of what had been. All those men and all that work, all those months and hours and calculation, ended in a moment. They had covered eleven thousand miles of their trip. And it was over. They were alive. They had survived it. That was all that mattered. “And here we are,” Billy said conversationally, as he handed her a piece of candy from the knapsack, “on Bird Shit Island. Have a great vacation.” She looked at him and laughed; she was too tired and too upset to cry, or scream. All she could hope was that someone would figure out that they were gone when they failed to reach Honolulu, and send the troops out looking. She knew all the efforts they'd made to find Earhart four years before. But she also knew how much outcry there had been at the expense. But if nothing else than for the publicity involved, and to recover the plane, she knew that Desmond would stop at nothing to find them. He'd call Roosevelt himself if he had to. He'd play heavily on the fact that she was America's sweetheart and people loved her. They would
have
to find her.

“Well, Miss O'Malley, what do you say we call room service and order a drink?” They had been there for four hours by then, watching their plane disintegrate along with their hope of leaving. Now they had to be rescued. “It wouldn't have been a real record-breaking trip, if this hadn't happened,” he said confidently. He was sure that they would be rescued within a day or so, and it would be exciting in the telling.