Chapter 31

Hairy

After visiting with Charlie, I discovered he only wanted seven grand and change to recover his time and parts money. I let him run my card ... it cleared. The girls ... knowing they were meeting a rival for my affections decided they needed to gussy. Overawing the competition ... so to speak.

While Amy and I were waiting, I was humming under my breath.

“What is that you’re humming?” she asked.

“Remembrances of past lives,” I said ... Oops.

In for a penny in for a pound...”It’s a Sioux war chant. I used to sing it before battle. The words say,

A wolf, I considered myself.
But I have eaten nothing,
Therefore from standing I am tired out.
A wolf, I considered myself
But the owls are hooting,
And, I fear the night. (Wiki)

She stood, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

The ladies were gone so long I began to worry.

“Quit fidgeting,” Amy commanded, “God. You’re as bad as a five year old.”

“I’m about to leave ‘em behind,” I complained.

“Not on my watch,” she said. “I have to work with them.”

I was getting ready to call Karen and cancel when the red 450 pulled in.

“You’re standing here?” said Roz, “Lets go.”

I took up the Check List.

“You haven’t done that yet?” said Rachael. “What have you been doing?”

“Waiting for you,” I said. Bad move ... very bad.

I didn’t get any peace until the hood closed and Amy said no distractions.

I spent most of the flight north under the hood, so I didn’t get to see the sights that were causing the “oohs” and “aahs” from Rachael and Roslyn. Amy was too busy watching the indicators on her side of the Beech to join in.

The pair of Pratt & Whitney R 985 AN-3 Wasp Junior radials had a rating of 450 horsepower, a cruise of just double the cruise of the Cessna 150 and three times the range. I wasn’t flogging it but we were moving right smartly.

We made ... I made ... the proper requests of the Tower at Buffalo. They had an outdated IFR system but it worked.

At the last minute Amy said, “My aircraft.” And wrested the controls away from me.

“Aw ... Your Aircraft.”

We landed ... taxied back to the tiedown area. I unbuckled and beat everyone to the door. Karen was bouncing.

The door opened, she ran to me, I gave her a breath busting hug ... and a friendly kiss. She was surprised when the fashion show stepped off the plane.

“Rachael, Roslyn, Amy ... meet Karen ... my caretaker. Karen ... Rache, Roz and Amy ... Amy is the pilot and our instructor. We’re all taking lessons. Where are the planes?”

She pointed ... and balked.

“Well?” I said.

“It’s not what I said.” she said

“What? Not the aircraft?”

“No ... there’s an impossible amount of junk. Don’t be mad at me ... I didn’t know...” she whined.

I looked at her ... she waved her hand at the hangar side door. Then she stood. We walked inside.

“HOLY D. SHIT! KAREN!”

I heard her step in the door. She pushed a button and the hangar doors began to open.

We were looking at two complete aircraft, one fuselage on gear, four Cocker Wheeler twin mount turrets, six crated P&W 985 radials. Ten .30 cal Brownings, two hundred 100 pound practice bombs, six Norden bombsights in their cases ... marked TOP SECRET ... parts, tools, everything. In a corner were four Beech 18 noses ... just in case. In case the owner wanted to get rid of those ugly bombardier noses.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Hairy exclaimed.

“That’s what I said.” Karen said.

“Forty grand isn’t a bad price,” I said.

“Twenty,” she said.

“Each.” I said.

“Total,” she said.

My eyebrows receded into my hairline.

“For ALL of it!” she said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“There’s so much ... junk!”

“Karen ... those crated engines ... they’re not used ... they’re brand new post war P&W SC-G engines... 525 horsepower supercharged. They’re 25 grand ... used.”

“I did good?”

“Honey, you did marvelous!”

“You’re not disappointed?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Great ... gimmie twenty grand.”