Danielle Steel: Wings

Together, they walked toward the old Jenny their father had had for several years. It had been built as a trainer for the military, and Pat had told Chris he could use it now any time he wanted to practice. All he had to do was tell Nick, and he just had. Chris had a copy of the key, and he took it out of his pocket. Cassie almost salivated when she saw it. She was standing close to him, and she could feel her heart beat as Chris opened the door to the small open-cockpit airplane.

“Will you stop it?” He looked annoyed at her, “I can feel you breathing on me. I swear … you're sick …” He felt as though he were helping an addict supply his habit as they walked around the plane, checking the wires and ailerons. Chris put on his flying helmet and goggles and gloves, and then got into the plane in the rear seat, and Cassie climbed in quickly ahead of him intending to look like a passenger, but somehow she didn't. She looked too knowledgeable, too comfortable, even in the front seat, especially once she put on her own helmet and goggles.

They both buckled in, and Cassie knew the plane was well fueled, because part of her deal with her brother was doing all the scutwork for him; and she had done it herself that afternoon. Everything was ready and she inhaled the familiar smell of castor oil that was characteristic of the Jenny. And five minutes later they were headed down the runway, with Cassie watching Chris's style critically. He was always too cautious, too slow, and once she turned around to signal to him to go faster, and pull up. She didn't care if anyone saw her. She knew that no one was watching now, and everything she knew, she knew from listening and watching. She had watched her father and Nick, transient pilots, and barnstormers. She had picked up some real skills, and a few tricks, and she knew flying by instinct and by sheer intuition. It was Chris who had had the lessons, and yet it was Cassie who knew exactly what to do and they both knew she could have flown the plane easily without him, and a lot more smoothly.

Eventually, she shouted at him over the sound of the engine, and he nodded, willing her not to do anything foolish. But they both knew exactly why they had come up here. Chris was taking lessons from Nick, and in turn he was giving Cassie lessons. Or, in fact, the way it had been working out, Chris was taking her up in the plane, and letting her fly it, and she was giving him lessons. Or just enjoying the opportunity to fly. She seemed to know how to do everything, a lot better than Chris did. She was a natural. And she had promised to pay him twenty dollars a month for unlimited opportunities to fly with him in their father's plane. He wanted the money to spend on his girlfriend, so he had agreed to do it for her. It was a perfect arrangement. And she had worked hard all winter, at odd jobs, baby-sitting, and loading groceries, and even shoveling snow to save the money.

Cassie handled the controls with ease. She did some S turns, and lazy eights, and then moved on to some deep turns, which she did carefully, and with perfect precision. Even Chris was impressed with her easy, careful style, and he was suddenly grateful to her for how good she would make him look, if anyone was watching him from the ground. She was a splendid pilot. She moved into a loop then, and then he started to get nervous. They'd been up together several times before, and he hated it when she did anything fancy. She was too good, too fast, and he was afraid she might get out of control completely and do something really scary. For twenty bucks, he wasn't willing to let her terrify him. But she didn't even notice him. She was concentrating on her flying. So he just glared at the back of her helmet, and watched her red hair fly in the breeze around it. And eventually, totally fed up with her, he tapped her hard on the shoulder. It was time to go back, and she knew it. But for a few minutes, she pretended to ignore him.

She wanted to do a spin, but there was no time and she knew Chris would have a fit if she tried it.

But in his calmer moments, he'd have had to admit that his sister was a very smooth pilot. Even if she did scare the pants off him more than half the time. He just didn't trust her. At any moment, she was perfectly capable of doing something really crazy. There was something about airplanes that went to her head and made her forget all reason.

But she lost altitude carefully, and then let Chris take over the controls again, before they landed. As a result, his landing was not as smooth as hers would have been. They touched down too hard, bumping awkwardly down the runway. She was trying to will him to land the plane properly, but Chris had none of her instincts and as a result he'd done a “pancake” as he landed, hitting the ground hard after leveling off too high for a proper landing.

When they got out of the plane, both of them were surprised to see Nick and their father standing near the runway. They'd been watching them, and Pat was grinning broadly at Chris, while Nick seemed to be staring at Cassie.

“Nice work, son,” Pat beamed. “You're a natural pilot.” Pat looked immensely pleased and overlooked the shabby landing, as Nick watched them. He'd been watching Chris's face, but he was much more intent on Cassie as he had been from the moment she stepped out of the plane. “How was it being up there with your brother, Cass?” her father asked her with a smile.

“Pretty good, Dad. It was really fun.” Her eyes danced like Christmas as Nick watched, and Pat led Chris back to the office, as Nick and Cass followed behind in silence.

“You like flying with him, huh, Cass?” Nick asked carefully as they sauntered toward the office.

“A lot.” She beamed at Nick, and for reasons best known to himself he wanted to reach over and shake her. He knew she wasn't telling the truth, and he wondered why Pat was so easily fooled. Maybe he wanted to be. But those kinds of games could be dangerous, even fatal.

“That loop looked pretty good,” Nick said quietly.

“Felt good too,” she said, without looking at him.

“I'll bet it did,” he said, watching her for a moment, and then, shaking his head, he went back to his office.

A few minutes later, Pat drove the kids home with him. When Nick heard their car leave, he sat at his desk, thinking of them, and the flying he had just seen. He shook his head with a rueful grin. He knew one thing for sure. Chris O'Malley had not been flying that plane. And he couldn't help smiling to himself, as he realized that somehow Cassie had found a way to fly. And maybe, just maybe, after all her hard work to get there, maybe she deserved it. Maybe he wouldn't challenge her for a while. Maybe he'd just watch and see how she did. He smiled to himself again, thinking of the loop he'd seen her do. Next she'd be flying in the air show. But why not? What the hell? Everything about her told him she was a natural. She was more than that. He sensed instinctively that woman or not, she needed to fly, just like he did.

2

When Pat, Cassie, and Chris walked into the house that night, all of Cassie's sisters were in the kitchen helping their mother. Glynnis looked like Fat, and at twenty-five, had four little girls of her own, and had been married for six years. Megan was shy like her mom, and looked like her, though her hair was brown. At twenty-three, she had three sons, and had married six months after Glynnis. Their husbands were farmers, and had small properties nearby. They were decent, hardworking men, and the girls were happy with them. Colleen was twenty-two and blond, she had a little boy and a little girl, both were barely more than toddlers, and Colleen had been married for three years to the English teacher at the local school. She wanted to go to college, but she was pregnant again, and with three kids at home there was no way she could go anywhere, except if she took them with her. It wouldn't be fair to leave three kids with her mother every day just so she could go to school, and her father wouldn't have let her anyway. Maybe when the kids were older. For the moment college was only a dream for her. The reality of her life was three babies and very little money. Her father gave them small “gifts” from time to time, but Colleen's husband was proud, and he hated to take them. But with his own wages so small, and a new baby only a few weeks away, they needed all the help they could get, and Colleen's mother had given her some money that afternoon. She knew they needed it to buy things for the baby. Depression wages had hit the schools, and they could hardly eat on what David made, even with regular gifts from her parents, and food given to them by her sisters.