Chapter 16

"David, you surprised me," Mr. Arthur said.

"I did?"

We were using the TBP (Talk between Pilots, although they should have named it Talk Between Crew (TBC) because there was only one pilot ... me. There was already a TBC.) The TBP was just for the officers.

"Yes, you did."

"Why?"

"When I said, 'Fly this bastard, ' you did."

"CharlieB was coming." I did a one eighty and overflew the strip. CharlieB was laying on the ground, kicking his feet and voicing his displeasure. "I heard him puffing coming up the hill."

"I thought that was the mail train."

"He's had plenty of practice. If he were in shape? He'd be wanting to strafe the beach and bomb the Coast Guard station. And if you told him no ... what he's doing down there wouldn't be a patch on what he would do up here. He's like the Indian story about Scorpion and Coyote."

"What's that?"

"Back when the world was new, before Man came, the animals could talk. Scorpion and Coyote were standing on the bank of a fast moving river ... they both wanted to cross.

"Coyote figured he could make it and was just about to swim when Scorpion asked for a ride.

"'No ... you'll sting me. I know what scorpions are like.'

"'I promise I won't.' Scorpion said, 'I want to see my grandmother who is dying. She asked for me.'

"The animals had a healthy respect for Elders. Coyote thought about the dying request of a grandmother... 'pretty important, ' he thought. 'Jump on, ' he said ... and started to swim.

"Half way across Scorpion stung Coyote in the neck.

"Coyote asked, 'Why? What about your grandmother ... now we'll both drown.'

"Scorpion said, 'You said it on the other side of the river. You said, 'I know what scorpions are like.' My grandmother has been dead these three summers. I am made to sting ... I can't help it.'"

"You mean?..."

"Daddy took Chuck up once and had to knock him out to keep Charlie from crashing the plane." I explained, "If he can't do it he'll wreck it for everyone."

"Jesus!"

"Chuck learned to ride a bicycle before I did ... I just didn't have the balance. I grew too fast ... arms and legs everywhere ... ask my sister." I groaned, recalling last summer. "Daddy didn't have time so he told Chuck to teach me to ride. Chunky said no. No teach ... no dessert, daddy told him. Chuck lives for dessert.

"Our house is in the middle of the block ... it's a pretty decent slope from the top of the block to the bottom.

"At the bottom of the block is US27/M21. There's three steps at the bottom of the sidewalk ... then the highway ... a Shell Gas Station and then the alley. The Shell has two pumps ... the gas station has huge plate glass windows.

"It's Saturday and the highway is positively packed with cars going north."

From here to the finish is in one breath.

"I pushed the bike to the top of the hill and Chuck held it while I got situated. We started down the hill ... Chuck was holding me upright. I got going ... he let go. I'm really moving and I don't know how to stop. I hollered at Chuck, 'How do I stop?' He was laughing too hard.

"The steps are coming up ... and then I'm on them ... BUMP BUMP BUMP ... I'm no longer steering and my feet have bounced off the pedals ... and I'm going lickety-split.

"I missed all the cars ... hit the curb and went airborne ... flew between the light pole and the Shell signpost. A car had just left the pumps ... I mean ... just. The bike went between the pumps, hooked the handlebars on the hose and STOPPED.

"I didn't." I took a breath.

"My feet didn't touch the ground ... I hit that plate glass window going a million miles an hour. I stopped ... the world stopped ... I didn't see it but, my dad was at the street raising dust out of Charlie's britches with his belt ... Mom was after dad with her purse."

I took a breath.

Mr. Arthur is clutching his chest and laughing so hard he pissed his pants.

"The manager stopped to see me at the hospital. He said the glass formed my outline ... bowed in but didn't break and sprung back. It tossed me into the pumps. I remember seeing his eyes just before I hit the window. Sheer terror.

"Oh sure ... it's funny now ... it wasn't then."

"Oh God, David ... I'm glad you're flying ... I'd have crashed for sure."

"So ... where to?"

"Lansing ... your dad said Ok. We're going to see if you and your sister started lessons soon enough to be grandfathered in."

I shrugged my shoulders ... what the hell, I already paid for fuel, I wasn't going to get a refund. I mean ... we were damn near there.

"You're a good pilot, David ... you're not really bold..."

I said, "There are old pilots and there are bold pilots..."

Together we said, "But there are no old, bold pilots."

"Charlie ... you were a bold pilot."

"During the war ... sure ... crazy kids. Some of us went straight to OCS right out of high school. There's a couple of them still alive that were flying missions at 19 ... exigencies of the Nation.

The Israelis combat pilots are all kids ... Immortal ... they think. They are not afraid to fly their aircraft in a manner that our people would consider unsafe."

I had to think about that.

"Lansing Tower. Lansing Tower. B-25H requesting landing instructions."

"Ah ... B-25H ... Lansing Tower. wait one.

"B-25 H ... are you here to see Franklin's?"

"Yes, Lansing Tower. That's an affirmative."

"B-25H. Franklin's Aviation. That you Charlie?"

"Yup ... how you doing Ben?"

"Good ... been awhile."

"Costs money to fly this."

"That it does, Charlie. What can Franklin's do for you?"

"I have one of your former students ... we need to talk."

"Come in on the 28R. You know where we are."

The tower cleared us to land.

Franklin's Restoration and Service was directly to the right of the 10-28 runway. It was a huge hangar ... a hold over from B-29 modification and prep at the end of 1944. In my first life it had a huge hardstand. In my first life Daddy and I used to drive out to the Airport, park by the fence and watch the planes come in. He would tell me what the old planes were. I don't remember how many times he said he wished he could fly but it was a lot.

Abrams Aero Photo service parked their modified B-18 on Franklin's Hard. A few interested parties had assorted old planes on the Hard waiting for funds to replace this or that part ... or even the money to send out scouts to FIND the parts.

A lot more people bought the old aircraft than had the funds to fly them. I remember a lady out by Bannister who had a yard full of fighters that were in various stages of disrepair.

"I couldn't see the old planes go," she said. She waved a hand at an aluminum monstrosity, "That Grumman Duck was at an auction ... I went to take pictures. The auctioneer couldn't get a bid ... I thought I'd start it off and bid twenty five dollars. Fired it up and drove it down the road. There it sits.