Chapter 7

"Find the perfume" is a fun game when the playing field is seventeen, freshly bathed and giggly. It is soft, warm, tasty, and rife with sudden bursts of ecstasy, and at the end it is very difficult to discern the winner from the loser. In our case, you couldn't have slipped a business card between us when we went to sleep.

In the morning I was drifting along between asleep and awake with outside light filtering into the room and the sound of Tina moving in the bathroom. The running water stopped, and I heard soft footsteps on the carpet. Then a soft touch and a shake. "Alan, baby," she whispered, then her lithe form slid into the bed beside me.

I was totally awake now. We kissed. "Good morning, love," I said.

"Mornin', babe," she said. "Let's shower and go find breakfast. You have to go look at my new magic carpet today."

"Magic carpet?" I shook a little grogginess off my brain, and it dawned on me. I replayed last night's conversation.

"Yeah," she giggled. "Come on! Get it in gear, dear!"

Oh, that I had to suffer through the horrors of a shared shower with Tina. An hour later we were being seated at a little restaurant for breakfast.

"Does this airplane thing make sense, babe?" she asked.

"Uh, well, depends on how you look at it. Do we NEED it? No. But it adds four hundred miles to our long weekend range. And takes us home in six hours. And the country is ours. A ten-hour day is almost fifteen hundred miles in that thing. That model is as close to a flying mini-van as you can get. But upkeep, well, there's insurance and annual inspections and maintenance, and that's expensive, so if you just run down the columns in a spreadsheet, maybe not."

There was a twinkle in her blue eyes. "Sometimes there are things you can't put numbers to, you know..."

I caught that. "Yeah, like seventeen and forty-one."

"Bingo," she said.

"So I take it that you're in favor of us doing this."

"If it's a good deal," she said. "You can fly? Really?"

"Really. It's been a while, but I flew that model before. I can fly it."

"I think we should do it, babe." Her eyes sparkled.

"And I'm thinking that just maybe a certain young lady might be interested in learning to fly?"

"It might be useful, don't you think?" She was propped on her elbows, smiling. Waffles and bacon showed up. And coffee.

After breakfast we had hours to burn, an easy task with a map of scenic highways and me driving and an analytic young mind plotting a circuitous route that would have us near the airport that was to be our after lunch destination.

We chiseled our way into a restaurant with the after-church crowd and at ten minutes to one we drove into the rural airport. Brad and Sandra and an unidentified third person were gathered in front of an open t-hangar. Inside was an unexpectedly sparkling jewel of a single-engined airplane. Okay, from a hundred yards a LOT of older planes look good, just like older women in dimly lit bars. I knew all too much about both.

We pulled up alongside Brad's SUV. Tina eagerly bounced out to stand beside Sandra.

Brad and the guy with him came to me.

"Alan, this is Charley Staples. He's the..." Brad started.

Charley stepped forward, extending his hand, "FBO, owner, flight instructor, mechanic, etc., etc."

"Hi," I said. "I'm Alan Addison. Brad wanted to show me this plane."

"And I'm the guy who's been taking care of it for the last ten years. I wish I had the cash to pull the trigger on it myself," Charley said. "Look 'er over."

I did. I poked around. I opened covers, peered underneath, inside the cowling, examined logbooks. To my eye, it looked good. But I wasn't the expert. And the expert in the immediate vicinity was Charley, who just MIGHT have a little too much interest in the sale. Still, I'd been in a lot of these things.

We walked aback to see Brad. "Brad, Charley, no doubt, that's a good-looking plane."

Charley beat me to my point. "Mister Alan..."

"Just Alan," I said.

"Alan. Okay. Look, if I was you, I'd get another mechanic to look 'er over."

"Yeah," Brad said to me. "Do you know one?"

"No, I don't," I admitted, but I was also thinking that this thing was priced well below market, too. "So what's YOUR recommendation?"

Charley said, "I already told you. If I was a little more liquid right now, we wouldn't be having this con-versation."

I looked at Tina. She was doing that smile thing again. I looked at Charley, then Brad. Gears were turning in my head. I don't usually take risks, and when I do, I do it on things I know about. Time for a risk. "Brad, can you help me with the paperwork?"

Brad 's eyes darted back and forth between me and Tina and Charley. "Are you sure? I mean, you're not going to get another mechanic?"

"Nope," I said. "Somebody takes the care on the outside that this thing has seen, they're not gonna neglect the inside." I slapped the logbooks against my hand. "Charley..."

"It's everything you want, Mister Alan. But..." He shrugged. "Most people would want a second..."

"He's right, Alan," Brad said. "Most people would..."

I looked at the two of them. "Because nobody wants to trust anybody else? I have an idea ... Let's go fly this thing. All three of us, right now..."

"Sounds fair to me," Charley said. "Brad?"

Brad said, "Well, guys, that sort of puts it in perspective, then."

Charlie jangled the keys. "You gonna leave Tina and Sandra here?"

"Yeah," I laughed. "If you guys are wrong, we need to leave survivors."

Charlie and Brad both laughed.

Tina said, "We can wait in the office if you're not gonna be long."

"Are you okay with that, sweetie?" Brad asked his wife.

"Sure," she answered.

We rolled to plane out of the hangar onto the apron. Yes, it was indeed a while since I'd played with a Cessna 182, but it WAS a pretty simple plane, and the preflight routine came back to me. Charlie tagged along beside me, listening to my running commentary on what I was doing.

"Just in case you wonder if I really know what I'm doing," I said.

"You seem to," he said. "Alan, between you and me, it IS a good plane."

"Yeah, I ran some numbers in my head. Even if I had to do an engine overhaul, it'd be a pretty decent deal. If the wings don't fall off..."

"I'll be sitting in the right seat beside you when they do," he laughed.

Brad took the back seat, Charlie took the right, and I took the pilot's seat on the left. Charlie handed me the laminated checklist and I ran down it, item by item. Finally, I opened the window and hollered "Clear!", then cranked the engine. It caught immediately. I watched the gauges. Everything worked exactly as expected.

We taxied to the end of the little country runway and I ran through the run-up checks. Okay, it's time.

"Last chance," I said. "If ya'll duct-taped the wings on..."

"Let's do it," Charlie said.

"Follow me close, Charlie. I'm out of a physical and a biennial review."

"I'm right here with you, Alan."

I ran the throttle forward and we rolled, then lifted off. At a thousand feet above ground I asked Charlie, "Where's the practice area?"

"Oh, south, about five miles. Give us five thousand feet above ground."

"Okay," I said. I trimmed us for climb, feeling for any unexpected tugs or unbalance in the controls, listening to the engine at full throttle, watching gauges. All good.

In the practice area, I trimmed for cruise, looking, feeling. Then slow flight. I dropped the flaps.

"Okay, I've seen enough." I turned to look at Brad. "Brad. Help me with the paperwork." And to Charlie, "Who's a good doctor for a physical, and when can I get my biennial?"

Ten minutes later I was on short final, working up the landing, Charlie's hands hovering, just in case. The landing wasn't as smooth as mine USED to be, but we were on the ground, all in one serviceable piece.

Sandra and Tina were walking out to meet us when I shut the engine down at the hangar.

Tina said, "If I can read that smile..."

I shook Charlie's hand. "Nice plane, for sure, Charlie."

"Told you so, Alan. And if you have anything major for the next six months that doesn't involve smacking stationary objects, well, Brad's a lawyer, so I won't say warranty, but..."

"I believe you, Charlie."

"Let's go in the office. I have that doctor's card." The group followed him into the office and I got the offered card. "Look," he said. "If you get your physical this week, come by Saturday and we'll get your review out of the way. Now that I've seen you fly, all we need to do is the oral review.

"I can do that."

Brad's turn. "And if you can get me a cashier's check and come by the office any day this week..."

Tina was giggling.

Sandra said, "Bradley, I think I was that excited when you bought me my BMW."

"So," Tina said, This next weekend? Wings?"

"Sounds like it, sweetie." I turned to Charlie. "Charlie, I hate to ask this, but you're two hours away from where we live."

"Oh, I understand that, Alan. Don't worry. I have a waiting list for these T-hangars. There's an airport twenty minutes from where you're at. I know the guy. It's got one of those big ol' world War II hangars. He's got plenty of space in it out there in the boondocks. I'll call 'im myself."

"Well," I said, "You're being awfully nice to us."

"Not a problem at all."

Tina HAD to sit in it. She did, after we rolled our new acquisition back into the hangar. And after a round of happy handshakes all around, we left.

In the truck, Tina was giggling. "Aren't you excited, Alan?"

"Yes, brown-haired girl, I guess I am. It felt good to fly again. And the idea of you and I being able to get away even further on weekends, well..."

Another giggle. "Alan, you said something about ME learning..."

"You're seventeen. You're old enough." I went through the procedure. "Most people, though, learn in something smaller, lighter, and simpler. But it's not unheard of to use one of these."

"Well, I don't expect you to buy me my own..." she giggled.

"Actually, that's NOT unheard of, little one. Planes like this are pretty much bottomed out and on the way up in value. You buy one, use it for whatever, like getting your license, then you sell it for what you paid, maybe a bit more. But I'm thinking, no, we won't do that."

"It's all just crazy, when you think about it, Alan. A month and a half ago, I was rock bottom, headed to Arkansas with a couple of criminals, and now I'm discussing learning to FLY." Her face was in 'full smile' mode, blue eyes atwinkle.

"Yes, little one, it does seem crazy. There I was, headed off into the woods for a few months work, all alone, and here WE are. Us. A couple."

"And that's a good thing, huh?"

I bent sideways and kissed her cheek. "The very best of things." And we drove out the gate, headed to the place we called home.

We took advantage of the return in late afternoon to take advantage of each other. The aftermath left me lying on my back with this auburn head of hair resting on my chest, fingers tracing patterns in the hair on my belly. She raised up and turned her face toward me.

"Dinner?" she said.

"I was considering it, sweetness," I answered. "Got a preference?"

"Shall we grace the halls of the local fried catfish emporium, sir?" she said.

"Oh, yes, why not? I hear there's this REAL cutie that shows up there from time to time with some old goat."

Giggle. "Let's get dressed and go, old goat."

"Okay, cutie!"

We managed to eat and get back to the park in time to get a couple of laps walking in the waning light of dusk.

Back in the trailer, I played on the computer while Tina ran through her schoolwork. She glanced up at me. "They had me sweating on this trig stuff last week, but I think I got a handle now."

"You didn't ask for help," I said. "I can help if you need it."

She chuckled. "If I hadn't gotten it on my own, I would've asked, Alan."

"Don't get in a bind, sweetness. You're in advanced placement classes. Catching up would be tough."

"I know," she said. "But according to the guidance counselor, I get three semester hours credit if I pass this class, and I AM passing this class."

"And the others? Science, English?"

"Piece of cake. I'm having fun in those. Physics? Come on. YOU do this stuff."

"I'm sure I do some of it, but you're a high school student."