Chapter 3

Jenny thought it was hilarious: Bobbie flying with us as First Officer, and even in the pilot seat at that.

“You two, you and Jeff, made her day, week, month, Oh, hell, her whole life up to date with that stunt! Jenny exclaimed, when an over the moon redhead bounced into the office, closely followed by me.

“Yip.” I retorted, “I think we need to give her a blood transfusion just to get her adrenaline levels stable!”

Jenny hugged Bobbie.

“I think I want to be a pilot,” Bobbie exclaimed. Jenny looked at me and winked while Bobbie bounced over to the fridge in the back to get a soft drink.

“Looks like you created a monster!” she teased.

I just shrugged.

“Monsters need to be fed. What time are you taking her home?” I asked Jenny.

“After work. Why?”

“Well, I am going to do that grocery run, and I think Miss First Officer can do with a double thick malt.”

“Stray cats like milk. Off you go, and drop her off when you get back,” she smirked. “But not too late. It’s school tomorrow, you know.”

My young First Officer came back into the office with a Coke in her hand and just got the end of Jenny’s words.

“Where are we going?” She asked. Bright eyes twinkling.

“Grocery shopping,” I said. “You up for an adventure?”

“How much of an adventure is grocery shopping?” Bobbie smirked.

“Okay. You just killed your chance of a chocolate malt,” I said turning to the door. Bobbie was at my side in two strides.

“Double thick?” And the blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at me.

“Double thick,” I said.

“Why are you still standing there, Mister Louis?” and she bounced out the door. “Adventure awaits!!”

I just smiled at a clearly amused Jenny and followed Bobbie out the door. Bobbie was halfway to my 4×4 by then, skipping along without a care in the world. I just hoped I could just be a little bit of light for her in her screwed-up world. She needed it.

She slid into the passenger side still dressed in her First Officer attire. I got into the driver side, reached over, and opened the glove box in the dashboard. I grabbed a little canvas bag and took out my spare set of Aviator Ray Bans. I turned to Bobbie and placed them on her smiling face, a face that has not stopped smiling since we took off flying.

“There,” I said. “Now you look the part.”

Her face lit up. She pulled the sunshade down and looked into the little mirror.

“Wow. They fit! Now I am really a crew member.”

“Yes Bobbie. They’re yours now. I don’t need a second pair,” I said turning the truck on.

“Mine? Really?” and I got a teen flying over the console and hugging me.

“Slowly, Bobbie. We don’t want people to see me doing things with teen girls.”

“But you’re my friend. I can hug you!” she said, a little down.

“I know Bobbie, and you’re almost legal age. But society rebels against old goats like me taking advantage of teens like you. We can be friends but not touchy-feely. You know what I mean?” I asked her.

“Yes. I know. They did come to school and speak to us. Boys in one class and us girls in another class, long time ago,” she said. “They told us about things that adults do to innocent girls, but nowadays they just talk about gender violence and drugs. But you’re my friend,” and under her breath she softly said. “Boyfriend.” Giggle. I love that giggle.

Grocery run was as non-standard as it can be. The normal eggs, butter (I don’t like margarine), bread, cheese and other stuff that keeps me going. BUT. Things like cashew nuts (Because some blue-eye girl likes them.), marshmallows and a few other odds and ends that teen girls would like.

“So where are you going to stash it?” I asked and got a surprising answer.

“At your place, where else. You need to have some stuff there to feed your new girlfriend,” She giggled.

“And when am I supposed to feed you at my place?” I asked.

“Oh, whenever I will be there. One never knows. Contingency plan for when the opportunity may arise,” she stated rather matter of factly and leaving me to parsing the words ‘contingency plan’ used by a seventeen-year-old girl off the top of her head in general conversation while idly scanning the shop shelf for something that takes her fancy.

Okay, the grocery shopping over and bags stowed in the truck, we hit the food court. The double thick chocolate malt together with some ‘slap’ chips (French fries, for you not up to speed with South African slang.) was a winner and made blue eyes twinkle. The smile was something to behold. Sitting there with her and me in our flight suits out in the sunshine made it the more surreal.

Other people also noted the flight suits. Some of her schoolmates were also running the mall, and a pair of girl mall rats saw her and came over.

“Hi Bobbie, what-sup!” A sandy haired girl in T-shirt and jeans with more holes in them than the ones I trashed a while ago.

“What’s that you’re wearing? Like, I’ve not nearly recognised you were it not for your red hair. AND the shades, doll! That’s real Ray Bans ye’ know,” the lead mall rat said all in one breath, rolling her chewing gum to the other side of her mouth.

“Oh. Hi Tracy. I went flying with my friend Louis this afternoon, and now we are just unwinding,” Bobbie stated matter of factly.

Tracy did a double take on the ‘flying’ and ‘unwinding’ part.

“Like, I didn’t know YOU was flying! Like aeroplanes an’ stuff? Real aeroplanes?” Tracy exclaimed open-mouthed.

“Yip. All so cool, hey,” Bobbie replied and took another sip of her malt. By this time one other mall rat girl joined in. Bobbie turned to me.

“Louis, this is Tracy, Beth, and Joanne. They go to school with me.” She then looked to the three standing there. “This is my friend Louis, tutor AND flight instructor,” Bobbie introduced us all with a little air of indifference. Seems like the little shy girl is moving up in the confidence scale, or likely she is comfortable with interacting with them.

“You girls want to join us?” I asked.

“Thanks, Mister Louis, but we need to catch the guys at the movie place and need to run. Nice meeting you!” The one called Beth said, and with that the three skipped off, leaving me to wonder what was going through their minds right now.

“Tutor and flight Instructor?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Giggle. “Couldn’t say ‘boyfriend’, could I? Don’t want society judging us,” and she smiled mischievously and tossed her head, flicking that outrageous ponytail from side to side.

“No. You could not say that, but I believe you will be a bit less anti-social at school now. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. I believe so,” she said with a sigh. “I actually don’t need them as friends. Did you hear them speak? And the gum. I don’t do GUM!”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the three mall rats meet up with four boys. One girl, Joanne I believe, pointing to us sitting at the café table. One boy stared at us before the mall rat girls hustled them off. Bobbie did not see it. Good. But I’m sure that there’ll be renewed interest in her at school.

“No. You don’t need to do the gum bit, and you don’t need to do the way of talking bit, but you can be friendly. Observe the eleventh commandment,” and before I could continue:

“Eleventh commandment? What’s that?” Bobbie asked sipping her malt, twisting her head sideways.

“Do onto others BEFORE they do onto you!”

Bobbie nearly blew malt out her nose and laughed. Clear bells ringing in an old church steeple. She had to wipe tears from her eyes.

“I need to remember that,” she said.

“AND,” I continued. “Observe the twelfth commandment: Thou shall not be caught!”

This time the malt did blow out her nose.

“Having a good time?” The waitress asked as Bobbie tried to recompose herself.

“Yip. Didn’t know I had a comedian for a friend,” Bobbie said still wiping tears from her eyes. “He’s a riot!”

“Need something else I can get you?”

“No, thanks. Just the bill please,” I asked.

The waitress smiled at Bobbie. “You do look stunning in that suit. And the green brings out the colour of your hair.”

“Oh, thank you,” Bobbie replied with a shy smile. She can do demure pretty well, and that sent shivers through me.

“No. Really. You look just so, sophisticated,” the waitress said and off she went.

I paid for our visit to the food court, and we left for the truck in the parking lot. Back home I deposited the groceries into the appropriate cabinets while Bobbie unpacked the bags. It was nearly time to take her back to Jenny’s place. I said so.

“Trying get rid of me, Buster?” She challenged, cocking her head to one side.

“Nope. Just don’t want Jen to send a herd of blokes to bust me up for abducting you,” I replied.

“Okay. If abducting me can include this!” she said, and she tiptoed up, put her arms around my waist and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you for giving me an adventure and giving me a wonderful afternoon.” She then let go of me and said: “Now take me to Aunt Jenny, so you don’t have to be beaten for abducting me.”

I did take her to Jenny’s place and dropped her off. By that time, the adventure was wavering. She was drowsy, and I think she will be sleeping before long.

Back home at my company sponsored condo, I took a shower and dropped into an easy chair. The old stray cat, (really a stray cat that came to mooch a snack from me from time to time) came waltzing in through the door and looked at me with those soulful kitty eyes.

“Wanna something to eat?”

“Mrowww.”

“Okay buddy, I got some canned sardines. You want some?”

“Mrewwww.”

I opened a can and put it into a bowl, giving it to him on the kitchen floor. I got swatted with a kitty tail and a head bump, then he attacked the food bowl as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“I’m a sucker for strays it seems. Not that redheads can be strays, ” I said to myself.

Wednesday 7 June 2017.

How could I, or anyone for that matter, come to know what this day would hold for all of us?

From our vantage point at 2300 feet over the airport we could see all the surrounding hills, valleys, and the town of Plettenberg Bay. To the east and north-east we could see the town of Knysna with the Knysna lagoon more or less on our nose.

“Some haze over the other side of Knysna...” Jeff observed, and I looked over to where he indicated.

“Looks more like light smoke or smog,” I said. “Don’t know about industries out there. Might be a light brush fire. We could report it, for what it’s worth.” Jeff keyed the transmit button.

“Foxtrot Alpha Papa Golf tower this is Papa Alpha Charley sit-rep over.”

“Papa Alpha Charley go.”

“Papa Alpha Charley. Smoke in sight at bearing 320 degrees plus minus 30 kilometres out.”

“Papa Golf Tower. Your location now?”

“Papa Alpha Charley is at 34 degrees 05-point 383 minutes South, 23 degrees 18 point 505 minutes east crossing overhead town of Kranshoek,” Jeff responded.

“Roger, Papa Alpha Charley. Radar contact with you at 1 nautical mile east of Kranshoek, 2298 feet MSL. Will report Knysna Fire department.”

“Roger your report to Knysna Fire. Thanks. Papa Alpha Charley out” Jeff switched back to intercom and remarked. “Dammit! These guys are close on that radar!”

“Yip. And I am only 2 feet below altitude. Aren’t we allowed a hundred feet?” I smirked. While turning westerly along the coast at 2300 feet, I felt a slight shift to left, as if the chopper was struggling to keep going towards the right. I dismissed it as the aircraft felt stable. Jeff looked over at me, but only for a brief moment.

“Seems she wants to go left,” Jeff remarked.

“Seems so,” I confirmed. “It’s gone now. Engines are all synchronised and stable. Just to be sure I am going to circle.”

I turned the chopper into a right-hand turn, keeping the nose a little high to keep the altitude stable. We came around to the north, and I felt more than saw on the instruments that the chopper seemed to slow down, apparently in the forward motion.

“Whoa! We have some serious headwind,” I said. Just then the radio squawked into life.

“Papa Alpha Charley, Plet tower. You still with us?”

“Plet Tower, Papa Alpa Charley with you,” Jeff transmitted.

“Plet Tower, surface wind picking up. Now 28 knots gusting to 31 knots North, North-East. Be so advised.

“Papa Alpha Charley read you surface wind North, North-East at 28 knots gusting to 31 knots. Papa Alpa Charley,” Jeff did the read back and look over at me.

I was fighting the headwinds. Not that the heli could not handle it, but my hands were doing a flurry with the cyclic and the collective while my feet were dancing on the rudder pedals.

“Just what I was talking about yesterday. Adverse weather changing in minutes. AND it’s picking up!”

“Let’s get lower. It’s stronger up here,” Jeff called over, but I was already in the process of dropping the heli down a thousand feet.

“I am going back. Let’s wait this one out, and by the way look out over other side of Knysna. It seems our brush fire is blowing into something bigger,” I said over the rising hiss of the wind blowing past the cockpit. Plettenberg Bay airport was just a few minutes away. At the lower altitude I could feel the heli responding within specifications, and the wind was a little less.

We landed back at Plet without further problems and shut down the helicopter.

“Better get her tied down. It seems this one will be a blower.” Jeff commented as he was already pulling the tie downs out the back of the chopper.

With the helicopter secured I made my way to the admin office. Standing by the window of the admin office Jenny was looking out with a concerned frown on her face.

“You’re back quick. Something wrong with the bird?”

“Nope! But we were riding a rabies infected bull out there. Did you leave the fan on at high speed?”, and I dropped down in her visitor chair with a sigh.

“Oh, your poor thing.” Jenny said. “Suppose you need some bad coffee?”, and she turned towards the percolator bubbling away behind her desk. Jeff, who had just entered the office, caught her last words and snorted.

“Yes. Keep on poisoning him. I can do fine flying the heli...”

“ ... AND work the winch and sling loads.” I finished for Jeff.

“Jenny, make that coffee as dark as the devil, as strong as hell and as sweet as a kiss!” I instructed and shifted lower into the easy chair.

“Looks like we are going to sit here awhile today,” Jenny chuckled as she poured two mugs of coffee. Jeff, in the meantime got over to the bar fridge and selected himself a buddy bottle of Coke, his only reprieve from his health phobia. On his trip over to the other easy chair, he upped the volume on Jenny’s office radio.

“... the fire escalated in the early hours of this morning, largely fuelled by gale force winds ahead of Cape Town’s current storm system. In a statement, Knysna’s Eden District Municipality declared that various fires are out of control.” blared out of the radio.

“Well, that explains something of the wind conditions out there,” I commented. “AND your brush fire!”

“So. No flying until this dies down,” Jeff sighed. “Shall we, after tea and smoke break, go and secure the bird before it blows really hard?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Let’s see if we can’t move her to shelter on the south side of some hangar or sorts before we storm secure her. I think this blow is related to the front that is scheduled to hit the Cape by tonight. So, gale-secure her by moving her to the south side, away from the wind. We’ll try to face her into any wind finding its way around the hangar and tie her down with cables and not ropes.”