Abby, Two - Cover

Abby, Two

Copyright© 2019 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 38

When we go ... we always stop at the F7F and Alice gives her a pat ... a caress ... a lovers stroke. I can read her lips. “Soon, my beauty, soon.”

My ‘7’ has never been a radar night fighter ... just one seat.

“Ya know, Sweet Sister ... the F8 comes first.”

She will have to solo a Bearcat before she flies the Tiger. Alice does not like the F8.

After the obligatory F7F visit we continued to the grass strip and my current ‘surplus to requirements’ Chilean Navy SNJ, 523.

Alice did most of the work. I read, she poked, prodded, kicked, waggled and fingered.

I said, “Well?”

“Numbers match. Everything works. Just like always.”

“And?”

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

We did. I lost. I sat in front and handled the radio chores.

“S.N.J 523, S.Y.D. S.N.J 523 S.Y.D.” I used the letters as individuals ... the 523 was spoken as ‘five twenty-three.’

“S.Y.D, SNJ 523.”

“523 departing B.H.S to S.Y.D.”

On those dates and times when traffic is expected at Bathurst, the terminal is occupied. If the yellow station Nissan is parked in its spot ... someone is there. The Nissan was absent. We aviated.

My SNJ’s are fully military. Grey Green with the Naval Anchor tail markings and the Chilean red and blue rectangle with the white star superimposed. The 523 is in huge red numerals on the fuselage and wings.

Had I gotten the 40 I paid for I would have had sequential numbers. Instead, my aircraft have random numerals in the 500-540 set. Alternating would have been too easy. I got clumps.

Annoying.

Petty.

Insignificant to the uninvolved ... it pisses me off.

Excuse me... ‘upsets my tranquility.’

Daddy says ‘if that’s the worst thing that ever happens to you... ‘ and lets it die in the end.

I always sigh ... and huff.

Alice has never come right out and laughed ... but I have seen her struggling to keep from it.

“My aircraft,” I said gruffly.

Alice immediately relinquished control. “Your Aircraft.”

I wrung that bitch inside out. When we were level and headed eastish, I said, “Your aircraft.”

 
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