Chapter 17

Ed's turn:

I'm just not that adventurous, I guess. If I had been, my degree would have taken me into one of the engineering houses or maybe a staff engineer job. Yes, that's right. My degree's in electrical engineering, with emphasis on computers and microprocessors. I just sort of gravitated to the computer side of things. Some of my friends say that my present job is 'punching way under my weight class'.

Adventurous. Like NOT running screaming in the opposite direction when a certain fourteen year old girl announced that I was her boyfriend. Voices in my head SCREAMED about that one, but I guess there's a hole in my soul that Dana fills perfectly.

She is insatiably curious and energetic at some moments, completely serene and relaxed at others, and always on the verge of turning loose an astounding set of thoughts on the world.

And now I'm standing outside the office building at the airport watching a LITTLE airplane taxi up with two teenaged girls peering over the dashboard – well, I think they call it the instrument panel on an airplane, but there they are, one redheaded, the other dark brown, I think, and my Dana's so excited I worry that she may wet herself.

We stayed put until the propeller stopped. I know that to be prudent. The doors popped open on the plane and the two inhabitants popped out and squealed and wrapped my Dana up. For a group of purported geniuses, they sure do squeal and giggle a lot. My Dana's in the middle of them, making the same noises.

I need to get my mind right. Cindy's the redhead. Nikki's the brunette. I've met Nikki in astounding person. I've seen Cindy on the computer monitor. I got smacked by reality with Nikki on MY job. Now I need to wrap my mind around the fact that these two refugees from a Saturday at the mall are the pilot and copilot of an aircraft in which I am expected to ride all the way to the other side of Alabama.

Well, they're not apparitions or supernatural beings, because apparitions don't rush off to the bathroom giggling about 'four-hour flight, five-hour bladder'. Supernatural beings, I am given to understand, do not know about refueling aircraft.

And I have never been given a pre-flight safety briefing by a redheaded teen wearing jeans and an Auburn University sweatshirt. And she looked at my face and very deliberately pointed out that there were barf bags available in the seat pocket in front of me.

The little plane was LOUD. Conversation is possible between occupants because we all have these monstrous headsets that both attenuate the outside din and amplify words spoken into a boom-mounted microphone positioned at one's mouth.

And I'm seated cozily beside my Dana, her hand clasped in mine. I'm mulling over her statement that she wants to sit in a front seat on the next flight so she can see what it's like. Somebody has provided yet another target for what I know to be an insatiable curiosity.

We finally got off the ground amid the growl of an engine that Cindy says is 'state of the art – 1930', climbed to a mile or so above the ground and headed east-northeast towards Alabama. I started relaxing. Why shouldn't I? Everybody else in this thing seems really okay with it. It's quite scenic, actually, compared to commercial air travel, where you're closer to six miles high.

Cindy and Nikki keep up a running commentary in response to Dana's questions and observations.

"Are you okay, Ed," Nikki questioned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. This is rather new to me."

"The first time I ever left the ground, it was in this plane," Cindy said. "I thought it was a wonderful magic carpet. I still do."

"And Cindy and Dan gave it to me and my Dan," Nikki added.

I caught Dana gazing at me. I smile. This is pretty nice. Very much different, but nice, and it's made nicer by the smile of Dana next to me. Her fingers are intertwined with mine.

"And now it's mine," Dana said. "And I love it, don't you?" Her eyes met mine expectantly.

"It's growing on me," I said.

Cindy turned to Nikki. "Nik, find us an airport. I gotta fix Ed."

"You want ME in the back seat, huh?"

"Yeah. Ed, d'ya think you can let go of Dana's hand for half the trip?"

"He'll do it," Dana said.

Nikki explains to me that we're never more than ten or fifteen miles from some kind of airfield, many of which are not very large or in many cases, unattended.

"We'll just land and swap seats," she said.

"Just like that?"

"Yep!" Cindy affirmed. "And you get your first taste of being at the controls."

"Do it, baby," Dana urged me.

Okay, I'm chauvinist enough to think that if our two pilots, neither of whom is twenty yet and are BOTH female can do it, then I should be able to do it as well.

"Cin," Nikki said. "'Bout a hundred forty degrees, eleven miles. It's thirty-five hundred feet, paved. Might actually have a restroom and a coke machine."

Cindy dabbed at the iPad clipped to the control yoke. "Got it! Okay, y'all, we're going to change course in a right turn and I'm going to make an adjustment to the engine for the descent. It's all normal unless you hear me say 'what was THAT?', okay?"

"Baby," I told Dana, "she's treating me like an infant."

Cindy laughed. "Just taking care of my passengers."

Ten minutes later the propeller stopped. We were in front of a little building on an almost deserted airfield.

As we all exited the plane ("Stretch your legs! It's good for you!" Nikki said) a guy came out of the office.

Cindy waved. "You got a coke machine?"

"Yeah," the guy answered. We all trooped inside, bought cold drinks and explained what was going on with the quick stop.

"Careful, son," the old guy said. "She's a pusher. I've seen too many guys hooked on their first flights."

All I could do is smile. Dana was over there looking at me, her arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face. The folded arms accentuated what I've determined are particularly delectable breasts. We have had some arguments of the 'I'm FLAT!' – 'No, you're not flat, you're perfect' variety. And yes, I noticed Cindy and Nikki. Apparently SOME engineers have that idea in common.

We finished our drinks and bid our host goodbye. Nikki and Dana got in the rear seats, and I got in the right seat. Cindy talked me through the adjustments.

"Now pay attention," Cindy said. "Or not. You'll do this until it's second nature anyway. Right now, though, let me get us off the ground. Keep your feet clear of the pedals and your hands off the yoke until we're climbing out, then we'll start the lessons gently."

"Hai, sensei," I said.

"Pay attention," Dana said. "She's a lot cuter than Yoda."

"And not nearly as wrinkly and green," I retorted.

Nikki giggled, "Yeah, he's gonna fit in just fine."

"Wait'll he runs into Jenn 'n' Laci," Cindy said.

"Who're they?" Dana asked. "I don't remember seeing them."

"Kimberly's two aunts. Laci's another bit-busting IT type and Jenn's a teacher. We're just cranking up our training branch and she shuttles between that and overseeing the Munchkin Mafia."

"Two aunts?" Dana asked.

"Yep. One by blood, one by marriage. To each other."

"Ohhhh," I said.

"Hope it's not a problem. They're really good people."

"Not a problem," I said. "Just never knew any, close up."

"Two of the sharpest tongues in the place," Nikki returned, then she replayed her comment and giggled. "And that was NOT meant to be a double entendre!"

"He does that to me," Dana tittered. "I get to talking with him and forget to think about what I'm saying. Next thing I know I'm in love..."

"Darlin', what about the day me and your gramma picked you up? That 'you wanna girlfriend?' comment?"

"Well, what's a girl gonna do when she's thunderstruck?"

"Dana, you need to talk with Kim. She says she was exactly that way about her Tim."

"See?!?" Dana squealed. "I'm not the only one!"

"And I'm not complaining a bit," I laughed.

We got about five hundred feet off the ground and Cindy instructed me to put my feet on the pedals – "That's your rudder" and take the yoke – "That controls roll and the relationship of the nose of the airplane to the horizon."

"Not up and down?" I asked.

"Horsepower makes you go up and down. For a given speed, less horsepower, you go down. More horsepower, same speed, you go up. We're at full throttle and we're holding eighty knots, so we're going up. If I pulled the power back to fifty percent, you could hold eighty knots, but you'd be flying straight and level."

I'm listening. I know Dana's listening too.

"Now, if you want to really have something to think about, we can pull the nose up so high that we STOP climbing because the drag of the wing is eating up all the horsepower just to keep going forward. There's a curve. Except for one point, for a given horsepower there are two equally valid speeds. I'll show you in the pilot's manual when you get curious. Right now? Eighty knots. If you start going faster, pull back on the yoke. If you're going slower, ease it forward. Try it. Little movements. Pressure, really."

I tried. A little pressure to lower the nose and the speed picked up. A little back pressure, and it slowed down. "Just like magic," I said.

She continued the lesson. I learned about banking the plane and having to trade off altitude or speed, and I'm picturing vectors at work. Seems like I looked at some of this stuff when I was a kid. Now this 'kid' is feeding it back to me, a spoonful at a time.

Three dimensions. Fun. I waddled between speed and course and altitude and finally, "Cindy, take this thing. I'm about to freak."

"You did good, though," Cindy said. "I gave you a bunch of stuff at once and you did quite well."

"Thank you. I'm sweating."

"We're getting close, anyway. Dana, say something comforting to Ed."

"Luvya, babe," Dana chirped.

"That'll work," I said. "I love you right back."

"See?" Nikki said over the intercom. "It's all good."

We put our wheels down at a little airfield.

"Home field," Nikki said. "See that big ol' yellow plane over there? Cindy's gonna fly it when she gets her commercial license."

Cindy grinned. We taxied up near the fuel pumps.

I met Wally, found out that he's a flight instructor, agricultural aviation pilot, a licensed mechanic AND the very protective owner of that big ol' yellow plane.

"How'd you do on fuel?" he asked Cindy after they filled the plane up.

"We're a gallon lighter than I thought. Close enough. Had forty-five minutes reserve, just in case."

"You did good, young padawan," Wally said. He turned to me. "You a pilot, too?"

"Nope. First time in a light plane," I said. "Me and Dana both. Cindy sort of gave me a lesson flying over here."

He smirked at Cindy. "So now you're an instructor, too? I give up, Cindy. Here're the keys to the Air Tractor..." he dangled them. She reached. He yanked them back. "No, no, no ... In due time, Cindy..."

"Tease!" she squeaked. Nikki was giggling.

We pushed the plane back into the hangar and loaded into the car for the ride home.

"Everybody's waiting, y'all," Nikki said. "You're, like, THE event!"

"I always wanted to be the event," Dana said. Me, on the other hand, I'm not so sure. Still, I knew SOME of these people now and I'm given to think they're pretty much civilized.

Short ride from the airfield to the...

"Compound," Nikki giggled. "It's our compound. And we're all setting up in the big meeting hall."

"Meeting hall?"

"Yeah," Cindy said. "We can do training. We can do conferences. We can do ... Anything."

"Lots of times it's just music," Nikki interjected.

"Just music," Cindy smirked. "Wait'll you hear Nikki Granger and her magic triangle."

"Te fer! It's a 'te fer', a legitimate instrument of Cajun music."

"Cajun? Like in FRENCH? You do CAJUN music?"

Nikki's head nodded enthusiastically. "And bluegrass. And Celtic. And classical. And klezmer. We do it ALL!"