Wings

Bobby came by after dinner, as usual, and they talked for a while, but Cassie didn't seem to have much to say to him. She was lost in her own thoughts, and the only thing she really said to him was that she could hardly wait till the air show. It would be just after the Fourth of July that year, and Bobby had never been, but he thought this time he might come, and Cassie could explain all the planes to him. But to her, the prospect of going with a novice and explaining it all didn't seem very exciting. She would much rather have gone with Nick, and listened to him. But it never dawned on her then that the changes had already begun. That afternoon, she had set sail on a long, long, interesting but lonely voyage.

5

The lessons continued through July, in total secrecy. But the air show, and Cassie's elation over it, was definitely not a secret. They all went to the air show together, her entire family, Nick, some of the pilots from the field, and Bobby and his younger sister. It was exciting for all of them, but nothing was as important to Cassie as her lessons with Nick, not even the Blandinsville Air Show. By the end of July she had mastered a very impressive dead stick landing. She had also learned barrel rolls, splits, and clover leafs, and some even more complicated maneuvers.

Cassie was every flying instructor's dream, a human sponge desperate to learn everything, with the hands and mind of an angel. She could fly almost anything, and in August, Nick started bringing the Bellanca instead of the Jenny, because it was harder to fly and he wanted her to have the challenge. It also had the speed he needed to show her the more complicated stunts and maneuvers. Fat still didn't suspect anything, and in spite of the long bus rides and the long walk, their flying lessons were frequent and easy.

In August, Cassie and Nick were both deeply upset when one of the pilots who flew for her father was killed when his engine failed on a flight back from Nebraska. They all went to the funeral, and Cassie was still depressed about it when she and Nick had their next lesson. Her father had lost a good friend, and one of his two D.H. 4s. And everyone was subdued at O'Malley's Airport.

“Don't ever forget that those things happen, Cass.” Nick reminded her quietly as they sat under their favorite tree, having lunch after a lesson on the last day of August. It had been a wonderful summer for her, and she had never felt as close to him. He was her dearest friend, her only real friend now, and her mentor. “It can happen to any one of us. Bad engine, bad weather, bad luck… it's a chance we all take. You've got to face that.”

“I have,” she said sadly, thinking of the most wonderful summer of her life, which was almost over. “But I think I'd rather die that way than any other. Flying is all I want to do, Nick,” she said firmly, but he knew that by now. She didn't need to do anything to convince him. He was sold on her abilities, her natural skill, her extraordinary facility to learn, and her genuine passion for flying. He was sold on a lot of things about her.

“I know, Cass.” He looked at her long and hard. She was the only person he had been truly comfortable with in years, other than Fat and the men he flew with. She was the only woman who seemed to share his views and his dreams, it was just his bad luck that she was only a baby, and his best friend's little girl. There was no hope of her ever being more than that. But he enjoyed her company, and talking to her, and it had meant a lot to him to teach her how to fly. He had long since had her solo. “What do you want to do about lessons once you start school?” he asked as they finished lunch. She was going hack the following day for her last year of high school. It seemed hard to believe that she was already a senior. She had always been such a little girl to him, except that he had come to know her better than that now. In many ways, she was more adult than most of the men he knew, and she was very much a woman. But there was a child in there too. She loved to play pranks and to tease, she had an easy laugh, and she loved playing with him. In some ways, she was no different from the way she had been when she was a baby.

“What about Saturdays?” she asked pensively, “or Sundays?” It meant they would fly together less frequently, but at least it would be something. They had both come to rely on these long quiet hours together, her unwavering faith in him, her trust in all he told her, and his pleasure at teaching her the wonders of flying. It was a gift they shared, each one enhancing it for the other.