Mark Golden - Kathy_s Young Mouth

Kathy finished assembling a stack of sandwiches and went outside. Milt Jackson was back and the two men had taken the other wing apart to check it for stress. Kathy sat on the ground and listened to them while they ate.

They had put the second wing back together and slipped it onto the trailer when Bob Williams walked by. Mike met him.

"Is my Heim joint finished?" he asked.

"I'll take care of it when I get around to it," Bob said.

"It's been over two hours," Milt said. "You don't have anything that pressing, do you?”

Bob glared at Kathy, then looked at Mike. "I'm a little short-handed. I said I'd do it when I get around to it." He looked Mike over and added, "And then it'll be thirty bucks.”

Milt said, "What? Thirty bucks for a two-minute patch? Don't be ridiculous, Bob.”

Bob looked coolly at Milt. "I don't think your friend belongs in this league. If you can't pay, you shouldn't play.”

"All right. Where is it? I'm damned if I'll put up with your bullshit! I'll get my plane fixed myself if I have to glue it," Mike snarled.

"It's over in my truck. I don't think your glider should be allowed to fly tomorrow. There's obviously no place that will weld that piece on Sunday, and anything less endangers everyone here," Bob answered. "I'm filing against you if that backyard bomb even comes off its trailer tomorrow.”

Mike spat and headed for William's plush mobile hangar. Milt cleared his throat, saying calmly, "I am still the chief official at this meet. You've already lost one protest this weekend. Would you like to try having your competition license pulled?”

Williams sneered and turned away. Milt called out, "By the way-Mary's only after your money. Believe me; I know her.”

Kathy sat stunned. She didn't even object when Mike said, "Stay here. I'll be back soon," and roared off in the truck.

She tagged along dumbly after Milt when he invited her to the timekeeper's stand. Kathy looked at the middle-aged man and wondered how long he'd known of his young wife's unfaithful wandering.

"Why did you say that about your wife?" she asked.

"Kathy, I'm almost sixty. I quit flying in competition about the time you were born. I quit fooling myself about Mary the week after. She's half my age, she's pretty, and very sexy. I like her a great deal, but I don't trust her an inch. I could have let her fool Bob, but there's no point in it. He would wind up with only half his money, and I'd end up without a wife I've grown very fond of. He'll learn, but there's no reason his lesson should come at my expense." Milt looked at Kathy. Her face was knotted with thought. He went on, "He's no threat to me now, just like your father is no threat.”

Kathy started. "What do you mean?" she said defensively.

"Kathy, don't try to fool me. You knew about it last night at dinner. Mary won't come between you and your father, no matter what you think." Milt rubbed his chin. "You don't hide your feelings very well. Maybe that's why I like you. Can we be friends?”

Kathy scowled, then her features eased. She stuck out her hand. "Okay. You're a nice man, Mr. Jackson. I think I like you, too.”

"It's Milt, to you, Kathy." He shook the little blonde girl's hand and whispered, still smiling, "Here comes Mary now. Be nice to her, please? She wouldn't hurt you for the world.”

"Hey! What are you two plotting?" Mary asked. She hugged her husband.

"Kathy and I have just divided the world between us. I get every thing east of Greenwich, and she gets all the rest. Why don't we all go look at the charts and see how many winners we can pick?”

The last few sailplanes were lining up to land at dusk when Mike returned. He brought the repaired Heim joint to the timekeeper's stand. "Milt, would you like to inspect this?" he called.

Jackson stood up. "It's your neck, Mike." He took the part in his hand. "Very good. I'll pass this. Can't even see the weld!”

"There isn't one," Mike said smugly. 'The gas station at the junction sent me to an old hobbyist He had some of the right alloy and he machined a new cap." Mike reached into his pocket. "He welded the old one, too. Cost four dollars.”

"That's great, Daddy. Boy, I'd love to see Bob's face when he looks at this!" Kathy bounced with glee. "Will you be able to put it together in time?”

"If we get started now, it'll be finished before the guard kicks us out of here," Milt said. He pinched Mary. "Let's get useful, youthful. The man has to take off second in the morning.”

The control swivel was reinstalled in no time. Milt offered Kathy and Mike dinner again, but Mr. Andrews declined. Kathy smiled thinly at Mary when the voluptuous brunette said, "Make sure he gets plenty of rest tonight, Kathy. It's a big day tomorrow." The little blonde hadn't quite forgiven Mary yet.

Mike padlocked the trailer and pulled himself wearily into the truck. "I'm beat. This had been a helluva long day, Kathy." He started the motor and asked, "You don't mind not going out for dinner tonight, do you? If you were old enough to drive, I would have accepted.”

"I don't mind at all, Daddy. I just want to spend the evening with you. Why don't we just have a little supper and go to bed?”

Kathy was cooking at their campsite when Mike noticed the scratches on her legs. He grabbed the hem of her skirt. "What happened to you, honey? Your legs look like hell!”

"Nothing, Daddy. I just got scratched up a little. I-uh, some of my homework blew away and I had to chase it. Through the bushes, you know?" Kathy moved away.

"What about your hip? Why are you limping?” Mike sounded very concerned in spite of his fatigue.

Kathy threw his dinner onto a plate and handed it to him. Mike watched her close up. "What happened to your hip, Kathy?”

Kathy moved around the table and sat. "I tripped." She took a mouthful of food and mumbled, "I'm not limping now.”

"Nobody limps when they're sitting down. Now tell me what happened." Mike glared across the table. His fatigue showed, making him look old and careworn.

"I told you, Daddy. I tripped. While I was chasing my homework paper." Kathy picked at her food. "Please don't ask me any more, Daddy.”

"I want to see that right after dinner. You might need to see a doctor.”

"Why are you picking on me? I'm all right! Just leave me alone," Kathy sobbed. She tripped moving away from the table and ran to the camper.

Mike stood and followed her. He didn't understand why his child had burst out crying.

He stepped up into the old bread truck. Kathy's sobs were noisily audible behind the curtain. Mike braced himself and stepped through.

Kathy lay face-down, crying on the floor. Her slender torso shook. The faded skirt was hiked up almost to the rim of her panties. She turned her head to look at Mike and a fresh gust of sobs filled the camper.

Mike leaned over her and let the girl's bunk down from the wall. He lifted her gently and set her on the thin foam-rubber mattress. She lay on her side with one hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were rimmed with red.

"What is it, honey?" Mike asked softly. "Please tell me what's wrong." He touched her shoulder. A pang ripped his chest when Kathy shrank away from his hand.

"Do you love me, Daddy?" Kathy asked, terror in her eyes.

"Of course, Kathy. I always love you. You know that." He watched her unwind slowly, moving very slightly closer to him. Mike knelt on the floor beside the bunk.

"You won't be mad at me, will you?”

"Why should I be, darling? There's nothing you could do that would make me mad at you.”

"You're gonna be mad, I know it!" Kathy started sobbing again.

Mike sagged. He looked at Kathy, then put his arms around the frail child. "Just tell me what it is. I promise I won't be angry.”

"It's about my hip. I wasn't doing homework." Kathy searched Mike's face. "I was sunbathing out in the brush.”