Witi Ihimaera - Sky Dancer

“Nani Deedee made me swear on the Book of Birds that I would get you there so that you could go through —”

“Go through to where!” Skylark asked angrily.

Lottie rolled her eyes. “To the other side, of course! Haven’t you been properly briefed? Don’t you know anything?”

Lottie zoomed into the airport carpark. Immediately she was out of the car and walking fast.

Arnie took one look at Skylark’s face and tried not to laugh. She had finally met someone as stroppy as she was — and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Don’t just stand there,” Lottie yelled. She motioned to Skylark and Arnie to keep up. They crossed the carpark, went around the terminal and towards a small hangar: Nelson Air Charters. Inside were a helicopter and two small aeroplanes. A young man was waiting nervously beside one of them: a six-seater Piper Cherokee belonging to the local parachuting club with a cartoon character — Betty Boop — painted on the fuselage.

“Okay Quentin, rev her up!” Lottie called.

Quentin nodded at Skylark and shook Arnie’s hand. “Do you want me to s-suit them up f-first?” he stuttered.

“We’ll have to do it when we’re in the air.”

“Stop right there,” Skylark ordered. “I am not getting on that plane.”

“Of course you are, dear,” Lottie said. Before Skylark knew it, she had been pushed through a door and Lottie was buckling her in.

“Arnie? Arnie!” Skylark called. But he was too busy talking to Quentin and throwing equipment through the same door that Skylark had been pushed through, preventing her from getting out.

Then Arnie himself jumped in and closed the door. Next moment Lottie and Quentin had climbed into the pilot and co-pilot’s seats.

“You’re not going to fly this thing are you?” Skylark asked.

Lottie was too busy doing her pre-flight check to answer. Arnie was grinning like a cheshire cat. “Skylark,” he said, “you’re going to love this.”

“Get me out of here immediately.”

But it was too late. Lottie switched on the ignition. She had a brief conversation with Quentin and was very cross with him. “You did what!”

“Have a h-heart,” Quentin moaned. “You know what the p-procedures are. There was n-no w-way I could g-get out of filing a f-flight p-plan.”

“Why do you always have to d-do things by the b-book, Quentin?” Lottie asked. “What a pain in the butt. I told you to tell the tower that we were just going on a sightseeing flight.”

“Y-yeah, and they b-believed that the l-last time.”

The starter motor whined, the propellers began to turn, there was a small concussive sound, and the engine roared into action. Lottie eased the throttle, and the plane taxied forward, out of the hangar and into the daylight.

“Are you two belted in?” she asked. “Good.” She had her earphones on.

“Tower? This is Betty Boop, over. Request permission for takeoff, over.”

The tower came back. “Betty Boop, grateful you confirm your flight plan, over.”

“Tower, I have two American millionaires on board for sightseeing flight of Nelson City and surrounding environment, over. Request clearance for take off, over.”

“Betty Boop, the Department of Conservation has requested you be denied permission to take off until satisfaction of your intentions, over.”

Lottie sighed, rolled her eyes and elbowed Quentin in the ribs. “This is all your f-fault,” she said, as she headed the plane out onto the runway.

“Betty Boop! You have not been given permission for take off, over.”

“Thank you, Tower,” Lottie answered blissfully, as if she was just taking a walk in the park.

“Betty Boop! Return to the airport. Your take off has not, repeat not, been authorised, over.”

“Tower? Say again? Oh damn this radio, Quentin, I told you to fix it! Sorry, Tower, you’re breaking up, over.”

“Betty Boop! This will be your second violation in one month. Return immediately as requested to the airport, over.”

Lottie just kept on heading out to the runway. When she arrived she positioned the plane into the wind.

“Betty Boop, you are in violation of instructions, over. You run the risk of being grounded, over.”

“Tower? Tower? Proceeding to take off —”

Lottie revved the engine. The plane roared down the runway. As it took off, Lottie waved at the controllers in the tower. “And do have a nice day,” she said.

The plane leapt higher into the air. The earth receded, the clouds came closer. The plane reached cruising altitude. Lottie motioned to Quentin that he should take over piloting the plane. She clambered back to Skylark and Arnie.

“Right,” Lottie said. “Time to get you both suited up. Have you done any parachuting before?”

“Absolutely, positively, never,” Skylark said, “and I’m not about to start, so just get me back on the ground now.”

“You lucky girl, you,” Lottie said. “We’re offering you a free jump today. What about you, Arnie?”

“Yes, I got my certificate in the Army. For solo as well as tandem.”

Lottie’s eyes lit up. “Great, then you can do the jump with Skylark?”

“Well … yes.”

“Primo,” Lottie answered. “Here was I thinking I would have to take you both down myself. This really solves my problem — I’m expected back this afternoon to do our stocktake. Not to mention that I only got my hair done yesterday and helmets play havoc with the styling.”

“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?” Skylark yelled. “I know I’ve come all this way to go through the Time Portal but jumping out of a plane is not on the agenda and I’m not going to do it.”

“Of course you are,” Lottie answered.

“Oh no I’m not.”

“Oh yes you are.”

Skylark started to push Lottie away, but every time she pushed, Lottie pulled. Before Skylark knew it, one arm was in one sleeve, the other arm was in the second.

“What are you doing!” Skylark screamed. She kicked at Lottie, and one leg went into the jumpsuit. She kicked again and, oh, clever Lottie twisted, zipped and voilà!

“Done,” Lottie said. By magic, Skylark had been trussed up like a turkey.

Meanwhile, Arnie was really sparking, gung ho, loving every minute — and Skylark hated him for it. “I think you’ve met your match, Skylark,” he said.

“And I th-think you’re about to m-meet yours!” Quentin said to Lottie. “The tower has c-contacted the Department of C–Conservation. They’ve got a plane on the r-runway right n-now. They’re coming after us.”

Lottie clambered back into the pilot’s seat. “This is all your fault, Quentin.” she said.

Quentin let it pass. “The pursuit p-plane is in radio c-contact with us, Lottie. What do you want me to do?”

“Ignore them. Keep pretending that our radio is broken — and don’t forget to break it before we land! Otherwise we’ll really be in the proverbial.”

Skylark cast her eyes upward: If there is a God in Heaven …

“So what’s with the Department of Conservation?” Arnie asked. “Why would they try to stop this plane?”

“Well,” Lottie began, “what we’re planning to do is not exactly wrong, but it’s not exactly right either.”

“I gathered as much,” Arnie said.

“The fact is that where we’re going was once part of Nani Deedee’s land. But it was taken by DOC when some fool tribal elder blabbed about what was on it. They came to take a look and, next minute, Nani was slapped with a forced sale of the land when DOC brought in a new Act of Parliament which allowed them to do it. Some Act to do with historic places or antiquities, blah blah blah. Anyhow our lawyers are on to it, so the point of view I take is that the land is still ours, though DOC says it isn’t. Meantime, the police have put the land off limits until the matter is settled in the courts. No trespassers are allowed there. But I don’t consider myself a trespasser.”