Chapter 14

Tuesday Morning

Morning brought me awake feeling my sister kissing my fuzzy cheeks. Dora told me, "Your whiskers aren't dark enough for a short beard. I suppose that you could have a blond beard with some dark streaks, but never that dark shadow some guys have. I truthfully like your smooth face, and just know that it would feel great between my thighs. Growing your hair out will cover your scars, but a beard won't help your appearance."

I swatted Dora with a pillow, and held her down to tickle her. We were laughing and making a lot of noise being rambunctious until Juanita was standing in the door. "Okay, you two, put some clothes on and come to breakfast. I don't think Izzy and her man would want to see you two naked. Now get up unless you're going to do something nasty."

I had to roll to my back as I was laughing so hard at Juanita's discovery of her two wards playing, although way over the age of majority.

Dora sprawled on top of me and kissed me like a lover instead of a sister. She whispered, "We constantly and always just tempt fate. I love the way we love each other, Chuck. I hope that we never lose this innocence."

"There won't be any innocence if you don't get up right now. Get up, Sister."

My delicious sister got up and threw her pillow at me. It was amazing that we still loved each other after being separated for eight years. We had occasionally e-mailed and Skyped, but it was mostly during the time we were getting over losing our parents.

I put my workout clothes on and went to the kitchen in time to say goodbye to Julio as he left to go to work. I had some coffee, but declined breakfast since I wanted to go work out. Dora said she was going back to the beach and would call me later this afternoon. I hugged her, Juanita, and Izzy before heading toward the gym in my luxurious but very old and beat up pickup truck. I did make sure that I had the keys for the storage units so I could trade the pickup for the Impala. I checked my old mail to get my registration stickers since I wasn't home when they were delivered. The lawyer's office accounting people took care of ordering what I needed.

Sandra wasn't there, but that was alright as I really needed to get back into working out daily, or at least almost daily. I didn't go next door to the dojo, but would this coming week. The Burger King at the entrance to the shopping center was perfect for a quick breakfast sandwich. This brought back the pleasant memories of the folks at that trailer park up in Tampa. I'd love to know more about them. I think I barely skimmed the top of who they were.

The Impala battery had enough to start the car, so I drove it out, let it idle, and backed the pickup in. I checked the other unit and it looked to be untouched. I went to the office and paid another year in advance for the two units. I told the Manager, "Make sure that you bug me a couple of months before the rent is due. I don't want to get behind."

I drove the Impala home, but couldn't get the remote to open the garage door. I'm sure it was just the batteries. I went inside and asked Juanita if she had any batteries for the remote and she opened her special drawer and handed me two batteries that I swapped out. I pushed the button back outside, and the door opened. Problem, there was a metallic blue Mercedes where I was going to park the Impala. The far end of the garage had a sign at the back of the slot that said Julio. Well, shoot. I parked the Impala on the side of the house.

I went inside and asked Juanita, "Did my sister bring me something this morning?"

Juanita blushed, and said, "She parked an almost new Mercedes in the garage and told me to not tell you about it right away. I guess you found it all by yourself. She left a stack of papers and extra keys. That's really a pretty car, and a lot nicer than those sinister looking black ones."

I really didn't need a fancy Mercedes as a driver. I was spoiled with the Edge and I now have something ridiculously fancy.

I had this strange desire to learn to fly since I had gained the other identity. While in the Marines I often thought it would be fun to learn to fly. Well, I had the money and the time, so I went to my laptop that hadn't been used for a while and began to search.

I didn't want to have to compete with the traffic at the big airport, so I looked for schools that had their own field. I found the next best thing in Homestead that was only a few miles from home. I could be there in twenty minutes and could go see Butch while down that way.

I went straight there instead of calling and dickering over the phone. I talked to the flight school owner and he gave me a thousand options. I told him, "I want to be able to fly everything from the light planes on up to some of the neat twin turboprops, and maybe light jets. That's a lot of flying time and a lot of bucks. I have the money, so sell me a path through completing my instrument rating. I'll sign up for more advanced training and maybe even helicopter when I'm more knowledgeable. When do I start?"

He looked at me and asked, "How much time are you willing to devote to this?"

I looked back at the guy, scratched my head, looked at my wrist where a watch would be, then looked at him again. Well, I can start tomorrow morning or right now, and continue learning and flying daily, including Saturday and Sunday, until you can't teach me anymore. Will that work?"

The guy said, "Let's get your introductory flight out of the way if you're serious. We'll go up for about two hours and you'll have some in classroom stuff from there, unless you do it on your own. Let's go flying. Remember that you must be able to understand and do everything I do. Watch, listen, and store what you see and hear."

We went up and flew around for two hours before settling back on the ground. The man gave me a manual and said he would credit me two hundred bucks if I brought it back undamaged.

I began to learn about flying that night. I studied most of the night and took the exam about three in the morning.

I was up, ate breakfast, and out at the airfield at eight. The instructor asked how far I was with the manual. I handed him the manual, and said, "Done, here's the test score location for the instructor to record."

The guy didn't believe me, and checked the location. He then began asking questions from parts of the manual. After I correctly answered about twenty questions, he asked, "So, are you ready to go flying?"

"Before we start, go down the street and get your flight physical. I'll call to make sure they can take you as a favor to me. The Doc and I go way back." I was in and out of the doctor's office in an hour. I gave a copy of the doctor completed form to the flight school secretary before going out to find the instructor.

I help push a Cessna 172 out and the instructor was going to just get in. I asked for the preflight inspection card and went over everything. I pointed out how the engine Hobbs meter didn't match the aircraft logbook and he became nervous. He went into the school's office and came out with a different logbook. The hour meter matched the book this time. The plane wasn't fully fueled, so we pushed the plane to the small aircraft pumps and filled the two wing tanks. I put the hose and ladder back and repeated the inspection. I used the card inside the aircraft to go through the preflight a step at a time. I was reading and repeating each step. I kept asking the inspector 'why do this' and 'why do that'. He was patient and kept answering my questions.

We finally started the aircraft and let the engine warm. We were advancing the throttle and moving forward within about five minutes. I tried to contact the local tower, but there wasn't an answer. I then used the non-monitored announcements of my intentions all the way to the end of the runway. I checked to be sure no one was landing or taking off, announced my takeoff intentions, and pulled onto the runway. I double-checked the positions of everything, pushed the throttle in, and away we went.

I didn't understand why the airport didn't have a tower controller today, but that's what the non-monitored procedures were for, or at least that was what the manual said. The instructor hadn't said much of anything so far, so I continued to get the aircraft off the ground went around the airport and prepared to attempt my first landing. I went through the landing procedures one step at a time, announced my intentions again, and watched for other aircraft traffic. I announced a touch and go, and came in right on the center line. Talk about being nervous.

I kept waiting for the instructor to give me instructions, but he didn't say a word. I touched down, settled on the nose gear, then advanced the throttle and took off again. I knew I needed a shit load of landings to finish flight school, so I repeated the landings and takeoffs for a little over two hours. I taxied to the fuel area and shutdown when I landed after the two hours. I made sure everything was shut down. I told the instructor that I was going to fuel the aircraft and take a leak. He should take advantage of the opportunity to get out and stretch his legs. He looked at me and grunted. I suppose I could go another two plus hours of going up and down, but I wanted to learn how to navigate to somewhere across the state.

We did another two plus hours of up and down, and when I pulled into the fuel pumps, I said, "I think I'll put this aircraft away and go get some lunch." The instructor was acting funny, so I fueled the plane, filled out the aircraft log and then opened his door to help him out.

He looked at me dizzily and wasn't able to get out of the aircraft. I helped him down and thought he just needed to find his legs. He never did and would have landed on his face if I didn't catch him and lay him on the pavement.

Well shit, now what. I checked his breathing and he was breathing. I ran to the operations building where there was no one around. I went around to the back of the desk where the phone had a bunch of buttons, and one said, 'Paramedics'. I pushed that button and it was answered in a heartbeat. I described the trouble and the operator said the unit had been notified and should be here within five minutes.

I bought a couple of bottles of water and took one out to the instructor lying on the pavement. I poured water over his face and held his head up to give him a drink. The guy finally began coming around and kept looking at me and asking who I was.

The paramedics arrived and immediately put the guy in the van and were gone. Well shit, now what ... I think I just said that.

I called the number for the flight school and got the tired voice from yesterday. I explained who I was and what had just happened. The woman became frantic and told me she would call me in a day or two. I didn't want to wait for my flight training, so I scrounged around the flight school office and found the logbook that had been made out for me. The two intro hours were written in, so I wrote the five hours for today with the count of takeoffs and landings in. That should do it so another school could continue my lessons.

I did what I wanted to avoid at home. The Executive Airport was within five minutes of Pinecrest. I called the schools that were using the Executive Airport, and the fifth one finally answered with a pleasant interested voice. I know, I know, it's pretty picky, but I want some warm fuzzies from the people if I'm going to drop a lot of my illicit bucks on them. I was transferred to the new pilot training coordinator. I explained everything to her, and finally said, "I have the time to learn to fly, I have the money to do this, please teach me."

The woman was very nice and asked if I could stop by to fill out some of their internal forms. I told her I would be there within ten minutes. I think that took her back a little.

I walked into her office ten minutes later and introduced myself. She handed me a few pieces of paper and asked me to bring them back tomorrow. I asked if I could just fill them out now and she directed me to their kitchen area where they had a regular coffeemaker that was cold and a single serve unit. I made a mug of coffee and sat down to complete the inquisition forms. I finished within forty-five minutes and walked back to the lady's office. She was surprised but took the forms and read through them. She asked about how bad I had been injured and I told her that it was a head trauma, but I was doing quite well and had recently raced stock cars up near Daytona for a friend of mine in Homestead. I showed her my logbook and told her of the incident with the instructor. She said that she should confirm this and called the flight school. She had a short conversation and hung up. She asked if I would agree to repeat the five hours and I said sure if we didn't spend all day talking about what I did or didn't do.

I was getting edgy because this should be easy. I'm the pigeon wanting someone to take my money and I'm having to beg to get them to do it.

The lady checked her schedule and said, "We can probably figure you for two hours, three days a week, beginning next Tuesday."

I stood and said to the lady, "Bill me for the entire course for a private license if you're worried about money, but only if you will start me tomorrow and fly me all day every day until I can be examined. I will do the same through commercial and instrument, and then pay for the hours to get to the next level whatever it is. I don't want to dawdle around and I don't want to wait. Why is it so difficult to get someone to teach me to fly?"

The lady had her back up and was going to be obstinate. "You don't understand, Mr. Miller; we have to investigate everyone who applies to flight training. You also must understand we can't just use the total time an instructor has for one student. You are being very demanding."

"Tell you what; I'm going to find a school that will teach me to fly and to do it the way I, the customer, think the timespan should be. Do it this minute if you want to do that, or we're done."

The woman stood, and said, "You may not be the type of customer we want with your attitude. Enjoy a second rate flight school.''

I wanted to smack and shake that bitch. I had just spent almost three hours doing nothing. I was spinning my wheels.

I kept thinking at home that I knew someone who would know who to go to. I ate dinner with Juanita, Izzy, and Julio, who was talking about some great beef his shop had just brought in. I questioned him about it, and he said, even the owner wanted to reserve some of the cuts. I told Julio to have the prime rib, all of the good sirloin, the New York strip, and all the rib-eye steaks set aside for Juanita. I would pay for it in advance so that the meat was properly aged. The man of Izzy's dreams called his boss to tell him, and told him that he was bringing a credit card to pay for the meat in advance. Julio thought I was wonderful because he was going to share it with me.

I still hadn't thought of who I thought would help me learn to fly.

I woke from an almost wet dream with a picture of Steve Sharp's wife, Sue, bending over and giving me a gaze at miles of cleavage the next morning. Her grin is what fascinated me. She knew what she was doing.

I sat up in bed and checked my shorts to make sure I hadn't filled them. I put my workout clothes on and went out to the kitchen to heat some coffee in the microwave. I sat at the counter to use my laptop and logged onto the internet. I tried to think of how to track down what I was thinking about, and finally just typed 'S&S Tampa'.

Holy smokes, there were thousands of entries. I typed 'S&S airplane' in the Firefox search box.

Another huge group of entries came up again. I looked through the first page and saw one entry that had 'S&S Private Pilot School and Small Aircraft Charter'. Son-of-a-gun. Steve Sharp had more than a business that worked on racing and warehouse stuff. This was more than I could expect, but he probably had contacts everywhere.

I looked at the time and saw that it was just after six thirty. Should I or shouldn't I? I should, so I called the number I had for the 'Patio'.

The man himself answered the phone. "Hi, Steve, this is ah, Buddy, the guy who was with the young lady you helped to get hooked up with Gene."

"Oh yeah, I remember you Buddy. Buddy Harrison right? What can I do for you at this early hour?"

"This may be easy, but I'm looking for a flight instructor or school in Miami that will continuously teach me through my private license, Commercial, Instrument, and whatever rating is next. I had a couple of experiences that prove there are idiots everywhere. Do you know of anyone around the Executive Airport down here that I could get in touch with to do this?"

"Sure, Buddy, but let me ask you if you want to do this under 'Buddy' or do you want to do this under Charles or Chuck Miller. Mercy and Missy were inside you that first night and had me check you out. You're so clean that we could use you as an operating room, but that's not the answer to my question."

"Please call me 'Chuck' like your friend with all the women and babies, Steve. I'm using my real name again now since most of the danger has passed. I'll tell you about it someday."

"I do know a couple of guys who would do what you want, but I want to invite you to consider S&S up here to do your flight training. We can do that if you're serious about doing this in one continuous session, with multiple instructors, right through multi-engine, small jets, and even up through a Boeing 737 if you want that. We even have simulators to get through the expensive jets. We have whirly birds and instructors if you want to fly those. You could stay at the hotel next door and eat on the patio. I'll make sure your flight training includes a break mid-day for exercise and some sun. Come up here and let us enjoy you and you enjoy us, Chuck. We can schedule six days or seven days a week, however you want."

"You make it too appealing, Steve. I hate to keep leaving home, but I like the thought of spending a few months with your wonderful group. I'll call you later this morning after talking to the people here about what I want to do. You have my personal number if you have caller ID, but I'll give you others to get in touch with me."

"Not to worry, 'Chuck number two', my guys can track a mouse across the ceiling. Call me and tell me that you're coming here for flight school."

I almost wanted to forget the gym, but knew that it was important to stretch the muscles. I drove the Impala to the gym and did my workout without seeing Sandra. I figured that I would see or hear from her one of these days, but I wasn't going to chase her.

My morning was all mental, as I tried to figure out whether to go to Tampa or stay here. The person to talk to was Juanita. I went to her in the kitchen, and she was just making a new pot of coffee now that Julio had left for work. "I want to learn to fly, Juanita, but I've had trouble finding a flight school that will let me learn at the rapid rate I want. I met a man in Tampa or near Tampa when I was gone with the racing people, and he has a flight school and people he feels can teach at the pace I want to learn. I know this is crazy, but it's something that's been bugging me since I was overseas. Would you feel as if I abandoned you if I go up there for a few months to learn how to fly a lot of different airplanes? I'll take you for a flight all around the area and you can see what our house looks like from the air when I come back."

Juanita smiled at me, and said, "I have Izzy, Julio, Connie, and even Dora very often now. You know that you need to tell your sister so that she doesn't fret like she did this last time. She was frantic until she saw you on TV at the Daytona races with that girl, Peanut. You used a different name that she looked up, and said that you were a sneaky SOB. That's not very nice, but she was angry. Not angry enough not to buy you a new Mercedes, though."

My caretaker for a lot of years of my life said, "Go up there and get this done. Have these people come visit and share our home if you really like them. Call me if they come so that we can air out enough rooms."

I hugged this wonderful woman, and asked, "So how is Aunt Connie doing? I haven't seen much of her."

Juanita sort of giggled, "She met this guy who has been showering her with attention and gifts. She spends most of her time with him at his rented villa. Dora has had the guy checked out from three ways to Sunday, and can't find any negatives. He negotiates property leases for movie companies and does a lot of traveling. He's asked Connie to go with him, but you know how she is about leaving the country."

"Well, I'm good if Dora is satisfied. I think I will go to Tampa for some flight training. The people I met were really special. You'd have a great time with them. I might come get you and keep you up there for a weekend or week. I can fly down to see you, Dora, and Connie as soon as I can solo."

Izzy came into the kitchen and sat on my lap. The little dynamo said, "You know that you need to help Julio scratch all my itches. He's wonderful, but I'm such a slut that I want more and more. I know you could do it."

"I don't want to give Julio horns, Izzy. You know that I respect your vows."

"I know, Chuck, but that doesn't mean I can't want more." The little woman kissed me and took my mug to get me more coffee. I said, "Can I use the kitchen to make some breakfast?"

Both ladies spun around, and said, "No way; we'll have your breakfast by the time you get showered and shaved."

I did the triple S, put some nice jeans, shirt, and sport coat on, and also got my shoulder harness along with the bigger Glock out. I shouldn't need a weapon, but that's what a carry permit was for. I ate breakfast, then packed a few pair of jeans, several knit shirts, lots of socks, a few sets of workout clothes, some dress shoes, a nice pair of slacks, and my other sport coat. I would buy anything else if I needed more.

My original thought was to drive the Impala, but the beautiful blue Mercedes looked like the way to go. I backed it out then backed the impala in.

I thought about what I might need, and pulled my paper bag with two full bundles of hundreds out, and had to think about why I wouldn't take one. I pulled about fifteen hundreds from the bundle, put them in my money clip, and put the now partial bundle in my duffle bag, the other bundle back in the bag, and put it on the high shelf. I put two extra magazines in my back pocket, and a box of rounds into the duffle. I should be set.

I called Steve, but a woman answered. When I asked for Steve the woman said, "Hi, Chuck; Steve said that he talked to you this morning. Does this mean that you're coming here for flight training?"

"Yes, but who is this?"

"Mercy, don't you remember me? I'm the cute mom of the triplets plus one, and the daughter of the mysterious Missy."

"Of course I remember you, and I look forward to visiting with all of you again. I'm about to leave Miami for your place, and should be there in four hours or so. I've already used your hotel's website to reserve a room. I'll be there for a while. Will you please tell Steve that I want to begin my training as soon as possible? I've already wasted a couple of days trying to find someone to take my money."

"You won't have to worry about that here. We'll have people lined up to work with you. Hurry so that you can join us for the evening cocktail hour and snacks. I'll fix up some special wings just for us hot food freaks."

"Thanks, Mercy. Be sure to tell Steve."

I smiled, thinking of some of the crazy things those kids could do and wondered how they knew things. I hugged Juanita and told her to get ready to go for a plane ride as I was quickly going to get this first part done.

The Mercedes only had a quarter tank of gas so I stopped at a gas station and filled up. I went north on I-95 until I caught I-75 towards Alligator Alley. It was now a separated four-lane, but you still had to watch for alligators on the roadway. The slimy suckers would get under the fence and get up on the warm concrete. Deer were not much of problem, but several still died every year by being hit while crossing the road. The other large animal crossing the highway was the panthers. At least one a year would be killed.

People, including me, used to get out on the narrow two-lane and floor it before the highway was widened and separated. Anyone going less than a hundred miles an hour was an obstruction. The road is so flat that the problem was that the gentle waves of the land hid an oncoming car when you wanted to pass or that was passing. There were lots of head-on collisions on the highway, and there were never any survivors who knew what really happened.

I set my cruise control for ninety-five and worried because I was flying by the other people. The speed limit was eighty on this stretch through the swamp and I finally thought I should get down to somewhere around eighty. I reset my cruise to eighty-five and passed two separate State Troopers with cars stopped. I suppose eighty-five was okay. I wonder how fast drivers were going to get a Trooper's attention.

The speed limit reduced to seventy, and seventy-five in some areas, when you approached Naples, so I reset the cruise control for seventy-five, sat back, and relaxed. I was getting hungry by the time I was going past Sarasota and decided to pull off at an advertised Subway. I bought a foot long tuna and bottle of lemonade, and drove up to the next rest area. I ate at a picnic table while enjoying the cool mid-February breeze. I didn't want to eat in the car because Subway lettuce seems to spring out of their sandwiches. Some jalapenos always jump from the sandwich to decorate the seat or floor mat if you get lots of them. I ate, threw my trash away, used the restroom, and took off. I knew the way and rolled into the hotel early enough to hang my clothes up and put my duffle bag away. I set up my laptop so I could check my e-mail and checked to see if the Wi-Fi worked. I had taken my partial bundle of bills and had slid it into the Mercedes' trunk's hidden side pocket.

It was only three thirty, but I figured it would be all right to go early and drove to the infamous patio. I parked my beautiful Mercedes to the farthest side so that it didn't block Steve's parking area and didn't take up room where the carts parked. Knowing there were loads of kids there, I took my shoulder holster off and put it and the gun into the glove compartment. I left my sport coat lying over the passenger seat and got out of the car to stretch.

I walked to what I think was considered the patio's front door and went inside to find a few very active little people, but they were now seated at a table with a paper cup type glass and napkin with a cookie on it. More little ones were coming from the big trailer house and finding a seat at the table. Two Oriental women looked up from getting kids seated and both smiled.

The older version of Mercy walked out, looked at me, and motioned for me to come to the open door of the trailer. It was strange by the way that it was cool outside, but about seventy-five degrees on the screened patio. Slow overhead fans were keeping the air circulating.

The woman greeted me and pulled me up into a giant kitchen. There were two very big refrigerators, plus another unit that probably was an upright freezer. There were two very large commercial stoves, each with six burners, and the center top that probably covered grills. I saw a stack of three more ovens on one side of the stoves, and two microwaves on the other. This was how they cooked for all those people.

I could see into the living room where the kids must have taken their nap in what must have been a doggy pile. It was cute to see these little guys and girls get up, head to the bathroom, and then come back to go outside where a cookie and milk awaited them.

Missy told me to sit at the counter while she called Steve. She told me, "Steve is over in the R&D building and said to call him as soon as you arrived."

The older lady I knew as Glenda was showing a couple of women how to concoct whatever was being prepared for supper. The older woman took a glass, put some ice from a refrigerator in it, and then put tea in it. She slid it in front of me and said, "You don't look like a sweet tea guy, so this is Steve's and Chuck's favorite with just a little sweetener and lemon."

I took a sip and smiled. "Perfect, Glenda. Just so you know, my real name is Charles or Chuck, 'Buddy' was a name I had to use while some things were going on."

The older woman said, "That's okay, we're all used to Chuck and the men he works with who sometimes change identities with the season."

Steve walked into the kitchen and shook my hand. A glass of tea appeared in front of him as he reached for a cookie on a plate on the counter before he could say anything. He took a bite and said, "I love your peanut butter cookies, Glenda." Steve gave the woman a hug, and then came around to sit with me at the counter.

Steve looked at the clock across from the kitchen activity area where a pool table was, and said, "We have time to run out to the airpark to get you signed up before the crazies come if you have your logbook. We'll take that fancy car out there if it's yours, so that you know how to get out there and I get to see how the other half lives. Come on, we'll have more tea, coffee, or something when we get back."