Chapter 18: Big Ol’ Jet Airliner

Moscow, Idaho

December 19, 2003

It was snowing in northern Idaho as the Avanti followed the ILS glideslope down for landing on Pullman-Moscow Airport’s Runway 5 at 3:35 PM on this Friday afternoon. The snow was not all that heavy but the cloud cover that was delivering it was thick and low to the ground, with a reported ceiling of 900 feet AGL. Laura was sitting in the copilot’s seat and she had flawlessly flown them all the way from SLO Regional, handling the takeoff, the climb-out, the cruise flight, and the descent until they got within a few hundred feet of the cloud tops at 6400 feet. At that point, Jake took over. Laura was not quite ready for a landing like this, although she probably could have done it if she really had to and if the ceiling really was no lower than the level reported.

“We’ve got capture,” Jake said when the ILS signal started to pull them down. They were at 4500 feet, two thousand feet above the ground. They were still in the middle of the snow clouds and visibility was effectively zero beyond the nose of the plane. This was most definitely IFR flying conditions.

“We’ve been captured,” Laura said, not a hint of nervousness in her voice because Jake was flying the plane for this moderately challenging landing. She had seen him land in worse conditions.

He continued to watch the glideslope indicator on his artificial horizon while keeping half an eye on the GPS. Both instruments showed they were exactly where they should be. He reduced speed and lowered the flaps to the first setting. ATC told him the runway was vacant, he was clear to land, and to let them know when he had the runway in sight. He repeated back their instructions and continued to focus on bringing them in. He took a look out the side window at the wing behind him, looking for any signs of ice buildup on the leading edge. Flying through active snow clouds most definitely qualified as ‘icing conditions’. He had the anti-icing system on, which was using hot bleed air from the engines to heat the wings and the tail surfaces to prevent ice from forming. As for the propellors, hot exhaust from the turboprop engines was constantly flowing over them, acting as a natural de-icing system not requiring any input from the pilot.

They broke out of the cloud cover at 3460 feet, 930 feet above the ground. Snow pattered against the windshield, bouncing off at the speed they were going, none of it sticking. Ahead, the runway was now visible, its lights on invitingly. Jake reported the runway in sight and told the controller at what altitude the ceiling had been for him.

Two minutes later, he touched down on the runway, slowing down gently, without reverse thrust, since he had plenty of runway to work with. Once the aircraft was below 60 knots, he turned on the windshield wipers. Now the snow wanted to stick. He followed the ground controller’s directions to the GA terminal and found a parking spot in the transient aircraft area. He shut down the engines and the two of them took their seat restraints off. Jake knew he was going to have to pay a landing fee here as the aircraft was more than seven thousand pounds gross weight. The going rate was one dollar per thousand pounds (or fraction thereof) with a minimum of fifteen dollars. Jake would have to pay the minimum as the gross weight of the Avanti was 8400 pounds. It was more an inconvenience than a financial burden, obviously.

It had been beautiful, bright, and sunny in SLO with a temperature of 61 degrees. Here in Moscow, Idaho it was 33 degrees and snowing. Both had read the weather report before leaving the house, however, and had their ski jackets and winter hats with them. They donned them and Jake opened the door and let it go down and touch the wet tarmac, unfolding the built-in stairs.

They walked to the terminal and entered it. There was a woman working behind the counter. She looked up at them as they came in. The only other people in the terminal were two young women who were standing near the large window that looked out on the tarmac and the runway. One of the females was Grace Best, who had just finished up the last of her fall semester finals only an hour before. The other was an unfamiliar taller woman who was pretty in appearance, her face elfin, her body perhaps a bit on the skinny side. Both women were wearing heavy coats of their own and had snow hats on their heads. Grace’s eyes lit up and she smiled widely when she saw them. She came trotting over. Her friend (a very close friend, Jake assumed) walked after her, her face a bit nervous looking.

“Uncle Jake! Aunt Laura!” Grace said when she reached them. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too, Gracie,” Laura said, holding out her arms for a hug.

Grace provided the hug and then gave one to Jake as well. “Thank you so much for picking me up here!” she told him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to land because of the snow.”

“It takes a little more than this to keep me away,” Jake told her. “I’ll take snow over cross-winds any day of the week.”

Grace’s friend had made it to their position now. She looked at the two of them, her face blushing. She kept her eyes on them but it looked like she was fighting to do so.

“This is my friend, Gina,” Grace introduced. “She gave me a ride here and then stuck around because she wanted to meet you two.”

“Hi, Gina,” Laura said with a smile. “I’m Laura Kingsley.”

“I know,” Gina said, her voice soft. “I love your saxophone playing on Celia Valdez’s albums. On Jake’s albums too.”

“Thank you,” Laura said. “Most people don’t know what I do for a living. If they know me at all it’s because I’m Jake’s wife.”

“Ex-wife,” Jake reminded her.

“Oh yeah,” Laura said with a smile. “I keep forgetting that.”

Gina puzzled over that one.

“I guess you know who I am, then,” Jake said. “Jake Kingsley.”

“I know who you are,” she assured him. “I love your solo albums. You have such an awesome voice.”

“Thank you,” Jake said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I don’t suppose,” Gina said, “that you two would ... uh ... oh, never mind. Just a weird thought.”

“Gin-Gin,” Grace said, exasperated. “Just ask them. They won’t mind, I promise.”

Gin-Gin, huh, Jake thought knowingly. “What won’t we mind?” he asked.

“I was wondering if you could ... uh ... sign my CD inserts for me. I have Winter Frost and Celia’s Living in Limbo—that’s my favorite of all of her CDs, not that I don’t love all of them, it’s just my favorite.”

“Of course we’ll sign,” Jake said. “Do you have a pen though? I don’t generally carry one with me.”

“I have one in my purse,” Laura said, but it’s still in the plane.”

“I brought one,” Gina said excitedly. She reached into her own purse and pulled out two CD cases and a black Sharpie. She handed Winter Frost to Jake and Living in Limbo to Laura. Both pulled out the inserts from the case and put their signatures on them.

“You know,” Jake said, handing her back the Sharpie and the CD case, “Celia is going to New Zealand with us. If you want, I can take her CD and have her sign the insert too.”

“Really?” she asked, as if this was far too much to hope for.

“Really,” Jake said. “She’ll be happy to. We’ll give it back to you when we drop Gracie off at the end of the trip.”

“That is soooo cool,” Gina said. “Thank you!”

“Any friend of Gracie’s is a friend of ours,” Jake said. He looked over at the counter, where the counter employee was staring at them, almost giving an evil eye—as if Jake would land a four million dollar plane at her airport and then try to welch on a fifteen dollar landing fee. “I guess I’d better go pay the woman before she calls the cops on me. Be right back.”

“Where’s your luggage?” Laura asked Grace.

“It’s over there by where we were sitting while we waited for you,” Grace said. “Come on, Gin-Gin. Let’s go grab it.”

“Right,” Gin-Gin said.

Jake used his credit card to pay the fee. The woman’s eyes got wide and her expression darkened when she saw his name on the card and the ID she asked for. “You’re that singer,” she said, almost accused. “That death metal singer.”

“I have been known to sing a song or two on occasion,” he told her. “Although I have never sung anything resembling death metal.”

She ignored the death metal denial. “You’re married to Celia Valdez, right?”

“Celia Valdez-Kingsley,” he corrected. “Yes, I am. We have a kid and everything.”

“Who’s that woman you’re with?” she enquired, as if she was a cop in an interrogation room. “That’s not Celia.”

“That’s my ex-wife,” Jake said mildly. “Laura Kingsley.”

“Why is she with you?”

“She didn’t have anything better to do today,” Jake said. “Do you mind swiping my card, please? I have to fly down to Pocatello after this.”

“How come?” she asked.

“Because that’s where the airport I want to land at is,” he said simply. He then made a swiping gesture with his right hand.

Her facial expression increased in hostility but she did as requested and swiped the car. The transaction went through without problem and Jake signed the little piece of paper. “That’s a relief,” he told her. “I thought I might be out of credit on that card.”

“Don’t you make millions of dollars?” she asked.

“Multimillions each quarter of every year,” he said. “but I’m not really responsible with my money. Always buying airplanes and new cars and expensive booze. Always going on high-roller gambling trips to Vegas. Always sending money to Nigerian princes so they can get out of the country. You know how it is?”

She did not tell him whether or not she knew how it was. She simply grunted in displeasure and handed him his card, license, and a little paper receipt. She did not wish him a good day or a good flight. Jake did not offer any pleasantries either.

Grace had two large suitcases and a carry-on bag with her. The two suitcases were the kind with wheels and an extendable handle to pull or push them with. Grace had one under her control and Gina had the other. The carry-on was a backpack that Grace had put on her back.

“Is it okay if Gina looks at the plane?” Grace asked.

“Absolutely,” Jake said. “Let’s get you loaded up and then you can give her a tour.”

“Thanks, Uncle Jake,” she said.

They made their way to the aircraft, which still had its door open. Laura went inside to get out of the worst of the cold. Jake opened the storage door and took out the scale. He quickly weighed Grace and her bags and then wrote the numbers down on his clipboard. He wrote 2253 pounds in the fuel column, more than enough to get them to Pocatello and then to SLO. Grace and Gina, now shivering, their teeth chattering, went inside the plane so Grace could show her how she would be traveling. Jake stowed Grace’s bags in the cargo compartment and then walked back to the terminal so he could do his calculations and put together a flight plan.

When he came back to the plane eight minutes later, he did a walk-around, doing his preflight checks and making sure there was no significant snow buildup on the wings. There was a little bit, but it was not snowing that badly so it would not affect the aerodynamics at all. Most would simply blow off in the slipstream as they made the takeoff roll, the rest would be melted by the anti-ice system. He walked up the stairs and into the plane.

Laura was already in the copilot’s seat and buckled in. Grace was showing Gina the cockpit area, which was still lit up as the batteries had been left on. She seemed very impressed.

“Okay,” Jake said. “Time to close this beast up and get our butts up in the air so we don’t leave Chase waiting too long in Pocatello.”

“Okay,” Grace said. She walked Gina to the door and the two of them stopped there. Grace turned to Jake and Laura. “I’m going to kiss Gin-Gin goodbye,” she said. “I hope neither of you will be offended by that.”

Jake laughed. “I think you know us better than that, Gracie,” he told her. “Do what you want to do. Far be it from either of us to judge.”

“Far be it,” Laura agreed wholeheartedly.

“See, I told you,” Grace said to Gina.

The two of them embraced warmly, affectionately, with more contact and emotion than two women normally displayed when hugging each other. Then they kissed each other on the lips for an extended period of time. There was quite plainly a bit of tongue play involved.

“I love you, Gin-Gin,” Grace told her. “I’ll call you when we get settled in.”

“I love you too, Gracie,” Gina told her. “Safe travels. And don’t forget to bring me back something that can only be found in New Zealand.”

“You got it,” Grace told her.

Gina walked down the steps back to the tarmac. She turned around once more and blew a kiss. Grace returned the gesture. Once Gina was back in the terminal, Jake closed the door and secured it while Grace strapped herself into the seat behind Jake’s.

“Your girlfriend?” Laura asked her.

“How could you tell?” Grace replied with a smile.

Laura chuckled. “Sometimes I just get these feelings,” she said.

Grace chuckled as well. She then turned more serious. “I know that you two know about me, about my sexual orientation. Gina and I have been together for three months now. It’s pretty serious.”

“It seems like it,” Jake said, sitting down in his seat and pulling up his engine start checklist on the computer.

“Does anyone else know about her?” Laura asked. “Your relationship that is?”

“Nobody at school knows,” Grace said, buckling her seatbelt and pulling it tight. “This is kind of a conservative campus in a conservative, almost draconian part of the country, and it’s not a good idea to be openly gay here. Not even in the graphic arts department. I’m sure there are a few people who gossip about us, but they would do that whether we were together or not. We’re very careful. No PDAs of any kind is our rule.”

“Is she a graphic artist too?” Jake asked.

“No,” Grace said. “She’s a business major. She wants to be an accountant and then work for the FBI. According to her, the FBI loves accountants in their ranks.”

“That makes sense,” Jake said, wondering if the FBI would care if she was gay or not. Their background check was pretty thorough and was bound to pick up Gina’s sexual orientation, probably during the first day. But that was not his business and he mentioned it not.

“Does she live in the dorms with you?” Laura asked.

Grace shook her head. “She lives in an off campus apartment with a roommate. Her roommate likes to go out and party a lot on the weekends. That’s when the two of us can get together for ... you know.”

“We know,” Laura said. “I’m assuming you haven’t told the rest of the family about her.”

“Just Chase,” Grace said. “She’s my little sister and I know she would never tell anyone about it. Mom and Dad just think she’s my best friend from school. They like that I have a best friend to hang out with. I never had any friends in high school so they think I’m coming out of my shell.”

“You are most certainly out of your shell, Gracie,” Jake told her. “Compared to when we first met you, you’re downright gregarious now.”

“College and being away from Mom and Dad have done wonders for me,” she said. “I love them very much but they’re set in their ways.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Laura assured her. “Right, sweetie?”

“You know it,” Jake said. “Now, how about we go sterile cockpit now so we can go get Chase and then get home? We’ll have a big day tomorrow.”

Joey and Sarah were at the Pocatello Airport with Chase, who had finished her last final of the semester only three hours before. The parental Bests wanted to at least see their oldest daughter before she flew off to the far corner of the world for two weeks. Hugs and greetings were exchanged. Jake weighed Chase, her two bags, and her carry-on and then loaded them in with Grace’s bags. He then hiked over to the GA terminal to file his flight plan. He had added 191 pounds of weight with Chase and her belongings but had burned just under 700 pounds of fuel flying from Moscow (which left him with about 1600 pounds in the tanks, more than enough to get them home with a good safety margin). The runway was higher in elevation here—almost two thousand feet higher, in fact—but also longer than at Moscow. Taking off would be no problem. Especially since it was not snowing here, just scattered clouds at around eight thousand feet and a ten knot wind blowing almost directly into Runway 17.

The goodbyes were said and they roared into the sky at 6:40 PM local time, Laura sitting shotgun. They had lost an hour between Moscow and Pocatello as the former was on Pacific Time and the latter was on Mountain time. That was okay though. They would get it back about twenty-five minutes into the flight when they crossed an invisible line on the ground. Jake brought them to thirty thousand feet for cruise flight. The stars were out and shining and the moon, a waning moon three days past full, was about twenty degrees up in the sky behind them, bright enough to make the cloud tops far below glow a bit.

It was a two hour and fifteen minute flight. The weather in SLO was clear with a fifteen knot prevailing wind. Jake landed the plane at 7:55 PM Pacific time and taxied to the hangar. He sent Chase to go retrieve his Navigator while he unloaded the baggage, stacked it neatly, and then secured the plane in the hangar. He did not bother with the shore line since he would be flying again tomorrow after breakfast. There were eleven people, including one in a car seat, who needed to be shuttled to LA before they had to leave for LAX for their Air New Zealand flight to Auckland. Though the Avanti could carry eleven people as long as one of them sat strapped into the toilet seat for the journey, there was no way to take all of their baggage on such a trip as that would be too much weight and there was not enough room to stow it even if it was not too heavy. Even with dividing those eleven people into two trips, Jake believed they were still going to have to utilize the back couch to secure some of the bags. At least the ANZ flight was a night flight, scheduled to depart at 7:05 PM, so there would be plenty of time to get everyone to LA and the Granada Hills house for staging.

Dinner had long since been eaten and cleaned up by the time Jake, Laura, and the two nieces got to Kingsley Manor. Still, as his last duty before his Christmas vacation began, Westin had made four plates of meatloaf, homemade mac and cheese, and fresh spinach for them to heat up. Jake grabbed himself a beer and dug in at the kitchen nook with the three ladies. The food was delicious, even reheated, and all four of them ate every bite and then put their plates in the dishwasher and started it.

The next morning, Jake served a huge breakfast of scrambled eggs with peppers, cheese, and Italian sausage. He served it with buttered toast (Caydee had made an entire loaf’s worth of it and buttered every piece) and fried potatoes. Everyone ate their fill and Jake threw away the little that was left over. The mothers, along with Grace and Chase, then cleaned up the kitchen and put all the dishes in the dishwasher. They would empty it right before they left for LAX, thus giving Westin and Sean a clean kitchen to start with.

The first group to head to LA was Tom, Mary, Roberto, Maria, Celia, Cap, and Chase, who had the foresight to call shotgun since she knew Celia would not take it because she would want to sit next to Cap. Jake made them check to make sure they all had their passports and visa waiver paperwork on their persons (or on Celia’s person for Cap) before the luggage was loaded into the back, roof high and wedged tightly. Jake drove them all to the airport in his Navigator. He had the FBO pump in another two thousand pounds of fuel and they took off for LA at 10:35 AM and landed at 11:02.

Not everyone could fit in Jake’s truck for the trip to Granada Hills but all of the luggage could. He drove Chase, Tom, Celia, and Cap to the house and dropped them and the baggage off. Chase then hopped into Laura’s Lexus and followed Jake back to the airport. While Jake got the plane ready for the flight back to SLO, Chase drove Mary, Roberto, and Maria back to the Granada Hills house and then returned once again to the airport. She parked the car in the long-term parking lot, as Jake had instructed her, locked it up, and then walked back over to the GA parking area, where Jake was all ready to go. She entered the plane and Jake secured the door. Ten minutes later they were back in the air, heading to SLO once again.

Upon landing, Jake parked and shut down. Grace, Caydee, and Laura were there waiting for them. Laura had driven them there in the minivan and parked it in SLO’s long term parking area. That way, they would have both the Navigator and the minivan to get everyone back to Casa Kingsley upon return.

Jake flew everyone back to LA, landing at 2:15. The rest of the luggage was stacked next to the hangar. Once again, Chase went to retrieve Jake’s truck. While Jake secured the Avanti in its hangar, everyone else piled the luggage into the back of the truck. The five of them climbed into the extended cab (Cap’s car seat had been removed with Cap and would be taken to New Zealand with them) and headed for Granada Hills.

“I need a freakin’ beer,” Jake announced when he entered the house. He went immediately to the bar refrigerator and removed one.

“I could use one of those too,” said Chase hopefully.

“You did work pretty hard today,” Jake told her. “Couldn’t have gotten everyone here without you. And you are over twenty-one now, so have this one.”

“Thanks, Uncle Jake,” she said.

“My beer is your beer,” he said. “Just don’t drink it all or get yourself in a state where they won’t let you board the plane.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“Glass?” he asked, taking one down from a shelf.

“No thanks,” she said. She then headed over to where Grace was hanging out with Celia and Cap.

Celia had ordered pizza to feed everyone. There was just enough of it left to fill the holes in the last group’s bellies. The three slices that were left over were thrown in the trash, which was then taken out. Jake took the garbage can and the recycle bin down to the curb even though pickup was not until Tuesday. The landscaping crew would bring the cans back up on Thursday when they showed up for the weekly lawn service.

Since there was no way to get everyone and their baggage to LAX in one trip (or even two, really) and since LAX was nearly an hour away in the first day of Christmas break traffic, Jake had chartered a tour bus to take everyone and everything there at once. The bus pulled up at 3:00 PM, parking on the curb out in front of the house. It took the better part of fifteen minutes to load all the bags into the compartment beneath the passenger area. Everyone then climbed aboard, finding seats.

They crawled through the traffic going over the pass. It got a little better on the other side but was still congested and they only moved about forty miles an hour at best. Finally, at 4:10 PM, the bus pulled up in front of the international terminal at Los Angeles International Airport. Jake had his one large suitcase and his carry-on bag. He also had Cap’s car seat/carrier with Cap inside of it, watching everything with interest. Most of what was in his and Celia’s and Laura’s carry-on bags were supplies for Cap: diapers, wipes, bottles of breast milk wrapped in cold packs, jars of baby food, changes of clothes, Ibuprofen, Tylenol, toys, and an extra binky to serve as a backup for the one he was currently sucking on.

Everyone made their way to the baggage check area, waiting in a line for about fifteen minutes before the first of them reached an agent. Their bags were tagged with the airport code for Auckland, which was not their final destination but where they would need to clear customs, and then disappeared through the slot that led to a slow-moving conveyer belt that took them into the mysterious bowels of the airport to be sorted. Jake really hoped they would not lose anyone’s luggage. That would be a royal pain in the ass.

After all the luggage was checked, they made their way to the TSA security checkpoint. Being a first class traveler did not matter here. They got in the endless cattle-chute line just like everyone else and moved slowly, oh-so-slowly, forward, reversing direction at the end of each side, completely surrounded by a mass of humanity. Celia and Jake were both recognized and that just added to the unpleasantness. They signed a few autographs and Jake was given a few insulting proclamations about his immortal soul. One woman beckoned Celia close and whispered something in her ear.

“I have no need for that,” she told the woman sternly.

“Just keep it in mind for when you’re ready,” the woman said. She was in the next lane over and soon moved away and disappeared.

“What was that all about?” Jake asked her.

“She whispered the number for the domestic violence hotline to me.”

Jake just shook his head, biting back on his anger. It was the life they chose and incidents like that went along with it.

Finally, after nearly thirty minutes, they made it to the checkpoint. They showed their passports and boarding passes. They took off their shoes and their belts and emptied their pockets into the trays. They walked through the metal detectors, none of them setting one off. Jake had to take Cap out of his car seat and put it on the belt while he carried his son through the detector. They then had to clear the area and get dressed once again.

“All right,” Jake said once everyone was through. “That was the worst part. It’s 5:20 right now. Let’s go find our gate so we know where it is and then let’s go find the first class lounge and have some freakin’ alcohol.”

This sounded like an excellent plan to everyone over the age of twenty-one.

As first class and business class travelers, all of them had access to the LAX Star Alliance Lounge, which was rated as one of the best airport lounges in the world. They showed their boarding passes and passports to the two men guarding the entrance and were allowed inside the nearly eighteen thousand square foot facility. It was very luxurious. One wall was a giant picture window that looked out on the four parallel runways and the Hollywood Hills in the distance. Though it was dark outside, it was still easy to see the planes coming and going every minute or so, the arrivals on two of the runways, the departures on the other two. Another wall had a large waterfall that poured into a rectangular pool. There was a bar with two bartenders on duty. The alcoholic drinks in here were free. Everywhere were comfortable seats, some around tables, some at counters, some merely sitting alone or in pairs. Soft music played from overhead speakers. There was a buffet of snack foods set up near the bar. There were not many people in the lounge currently, perhaps twenty or so, most of them in pairs, spread out from each other for the most part.

“Wow,” said Grace, who was standing next to Jake, as she took it all in. She had flown first class before, but when flying from Salt Lake City to LA, one did not get lounge access as a perk. It was only long-haul international and domestic first class and business class ticket holders who were able to come on in. In some places, not even the business class could use the lounge. “This is awesome.”

“Yes,” Jake said. “It’s nice to be rich. Let’s go get a drink.”

Everyone went to the bar. Jake, who had enjoyed the hospitality of this and several other lounges in his time, had told everyone to make sure they had plenty of one dollar bills for tips. While the beer, wine, and well drinks were free, it was customary to also tip the bartender a dollar per drink for the service.

Grace and Chase, the two college students, were the first in line. The bartenders checked their IDs and then took their order. Grace went with a Long Island iced-tea. Chase went with an appletini. Nerdly would be proud, Jake thought with a smile as he heard this.

Jake stepped up, still carrying Cap in his car seat. He set Cap down on one of the barstools, keeping his hand on the handle. “Do you have Glenlivet?” Jake asked the bartender.

“We do, sir,” the man said.

The bartender poured his drink. He was very generous with the scotch. Jake threw two bucks into the tip jar since it was a premium drink.

“Thank you, sir,” the man said graciously.

Jake gave him a nod, picked up his drink in one hand and his son in the other, and then went to find a place to sit down.

Everyone in the group gathered in an empty corner near the bar, all of them sitting in the seats or on the couches. Celia took Cap from the car seat and tried to nurse him but he was uninterested. He did drink from one of the bottles of breast milk, however. Caydee went to the food buffet and helped herself to a plate of cheese, crackers, and various fruits. Mama and Papa sat near Celia while Tom and Mary sat near Jake.

“Hopefully Pauline and Obie and Tabby will get here on time,” Mary said, worry in her voice.