Aces (19 page)

“I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, Cap.”

“Son, you cost me money today,” Captain Bob said bleakly.

“You could fire me if you want, Cap,” Gold said. “On the other hand, what’s done is done. Why not let me make it up to you
by
saving
you some money.”

“Now how might you do that, son?” Captain Bob demanded sharply.

“Simple, Cap. For starters, you don’t try to lug the plane with you.”

“I don’t?”

Gold shook his head. “You leave her here.”

“Why the fuck would I?—”

“Try this on for size, Cap,” Gold suggested. “I stay behind with the Jenny and have her trucked into Doreen, where there are
woodworking facilities and machine shops to supply the replacement parts she needs. I’ll supervise the repairs and then fly
the Jenny to meet up with the troupe farther west. With luck, the Red Baron will be back with his circus in a couple of weeks…
more or less,” Gold added as an afterthought.

“That’s not bad,” the Captain said. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea at all…” He turned on Gold. “But why should I leave
you
behind? Assuming I don’t fire you, that is. You’re my best pilot, goddamn your ass.”

“Up to you, of course, Cap.” Gold elaborately shrugged. “But you’ll need to leave behind an experienced mechanic to dicker
the cost of the repairs and supervise the work; otherwise, you’re going to get fleeced by the locals. In addition, you’ll
need to leave behind a pilot to fly the Jenny out of here. That’s two men staying behind, costing you salaries, and hotel
room and board.”

Captain Bob nodded thoughtfully. “Or I can leave just one man: you. You’re a mechanic and a pilot.”

Gold smiled.

Erica Schuler was waiting for Gold near the damaged Jenny. “When I saw you crash I thought for sure you were going to die!”
She gasped, embracing him. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe!”

“No big deal,” Gold muttered bravely, holding her. The press of her body made him dizzy. He felt intoxicated inhaling her
scent as he nuzzled her hair. He even considered telling her the truth, but he decided to leave well enough alone. Things
couldn’t be any better between them than just the way they were. “Erica, who runs the best motor garage in town?”

“Teddy Quinn,” she said flatly. “He takes care of my roadster. I wouldn’t let anyone else come near it.”

Gold nodded. “Would you mind driving me into town to see him?”

“That’s it,” Erica said as she guided the roadster into a narrow alleyway behind some riverfront warehouses.

QUINN’S GARAGE, THEODORE X. QUINN, PROPRIETOR
read the sign stretching the length of the low, flat-roofed, cinder block building. Parked next to the garage was a rusty,
olive green, U.S. Army surplus tow truck, with “Quinn’s” lettered on the side of the cab. A Bluebird brand gasoline pump and
stacks of automobile tires bracketed the garage’s double barn doors.

Gold saw a man dressed in dark-blue mechanic’s overalls up on a ladder, repainting the “Emergency Road Service” sign above
the garage’s single window.

“That’s Teddy,” Erica said as she cut the roadster’s engine.

“Afternoon, Miss Schuler.” Teddy Quinn nodded from his ladder. “Trouble with the car?”

Gold thought Quinn looked about thirty. He was thin, had black, wavy hair and round tortoiseshell spectacles.

“No, the roadster’s fine,” Erica said as Quinn climbed down the ladder. “But my friend here could use your help. Herman Gold,
Teddy Quinn.”

Teddy squinted at Gold as they shook hands. “You’re one of those barnstormers, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I’m afraid I just racked up one of the troupe’s airplanes. I thought maybe you could help me get it repaired.”

“Airplane, huh?” Teddy grinned. “Sounds like a nice change from working on tractors. About the only fun I get around here
comes when Miss Schuler brings me her Pierce-Arrow to work on. Come on in out of the sun, and we’ll talk about your airplane.”
He invited Gold and went inside the garage.

“I’ve got to get home,” Erica told Gold. “Or else Mama will have a fit.”

“It looks like I’ll be here for a couple of weeks…” Gold began.

“Ummm,” Erica nervously ran her long, graceful fingers around the steering wheel’s varnished curve.

“Do you think it’d be all right if I came to see you?” Gold asked.

Erica smiled shyly. “Sure.”

“Like maybe tomorrow, after supper?”

Erica nodded quickly. She leaned across the narrow interior of the car to give him a quick kiss. “Now go! I’ve got to get
home.”

Gold got out of the car, thinking that she was worth crashing an airplane anytime. He watched her drive away, thinking that
he liked everything about her, even the fact that she didn’t look back and wave.

Inside the garage it was dim and cool. There were tool benches and parts bins; a partly disassembled tractor and a black Ford
Model T up on jacks. Old license plates, automotive posters, and parts supply calendars lined the walls.

Gold was impressed by the garage’s professional layout. He noticed that all of Teddy’s tools and equipment looked well cared
for and neatly put away. Teddy clearly took pride in his work, and that was important.

Gold thought briefly of the motor garage that he and Heiner Froehlig had talked about opening back in Germany; that day seemed
like a hundred years ago.

Teddy was seated behind a dented steel desk at the rear of the garage. Behind him was a tall filing cabinet, a small stove,
and an electric icebox.

“Pull up a seat.” Teddy indicated a wooden crate.

Gold set the crate beside the desk and straddled it. Teddy pushed back his chair, reached behind him to the icebox, and extracted
a couple of orange soda pops. He angled the bottles against the edge of the desk, banged the caps off with his palm, and handed
a soda pop to Gold.

“Now, what can I do for you, Herman?” Teddy asked.

Gold filled him in on the damage suffered by the Jenny. “You ever do work on anything like this before?” Gold asked.

“During the war. I went over in the Army motor pool. Now and again we’d overhaul a Spad. As I recall, those airplanes had
Hispano Suiza V-8s…”

“Excellent!” Gold exclaimed. “This Jenny has a Hisso.” He explained the overheating problems he’d encountered and showed Teddy
the rough sketch he’d made of his idea for a radiator design. “I figure, as long as she needs a new radiator, why not try
to improve on the original?”

“For a Hisso, huh?” Teddy nodded thoughtfully as he studied the drawing. He took off his spectacles, breathed on the lenses,
and polished them on a rag. His green eyes looked weakly out from behind the glass. “I like it,” he finally decided. “Yeah,
I do… Did you think this up all by yourself?” Gold nodded. “I’m impressed,” Teddy said. “You know machines.”

Gold arranged for Teddy to haul the Jenny back to the garage. Quinn would introduce him to the best craftsmen in town to mill
a new wooden prop, wing spars, and landing gear assembly and to build the extra-capacity cooling system. Meanwhile, Gold would
use the garage’s facilities—with Quinn lending a hand when he was available—to diagnose and repair the damage the Hisso had
suffered in the crash.

“Where you staying?” Quinn asked.

“The Red Bull Manor,” Gold said. “Say, there’s one last thing you might be able to help me with. I’m going to need transportation.
You have any cars you might want to rent out?”

“No cars.” Teddy shook his head. “I do have something you might be able to use. Come around out back.”

Gold followed him around to the garage’s small backyard, littered with rusted sections of automobiles and trucks. Off in one
corner was a small lean-to, beneath which was something covered over with a dusty canvas tarp. Teddy removed the canvas to
reveal a dove-gray, red- and black-trimmed Harley Davidson motorcycle.

“Ever drive one of these?” Teddy asked.

“Not really.” Gold shrugged. “I can figure her out, though.”

Teddy nodded. “Don’t see why not. You can’t do her any harm. She’s about six years old, and has already taken a beating. The
fellow that owned her gave her up after he’d put himself in a ditch a few times.” He pointed to the Harley’s black, copper-clad
engine. “You can get her up to about forty-five miles per hour, no problem. After that, the engine will still have plenty
left, but you’ll find the frame wobbles.”

“She’ll do fine,” Gold said. The cycle would get him from town to the Schuler farm in ten minutes. “Can I rent her?”

Quinn made a face. “Hell, use her. You’ll be doing me a favor. I’m so busy I ain’t got time to take her out the way I should.”

It was after supper. Erica Schuler had just finished cleaning up the kitchen for her mother and had come outside to the front
porch to catch a bit of breeze while she waited for Herman. The summer sun, molten and all-pervading throughout the day, had
begun to set, turning the big sky into a purple and orange dome over the world. Erica was sweltering, though. She had her
hair pinned up, and damp tendrils stuck to the nape of her neck. As she settled back on the glider she looked around to make
sure that her father and mother were nowhere about, and then kicked off her slippers and folded up the hem of her rose-colored,
light cotton sundress, to expose her knees to the gentle breeze.

She heard Herman’s motorcycle long before she saw it. The dog, panting as it lay on its side on the porch, began to thump
its tail against the floorboards. Finally, Erica saw the motorcycle’s single headlight, bouncing like a firefly, as Herman
made his way along the rutted dirt turnoff that led from the main road to the Schuler farmhouse.

She remembered her dress just as Herman pulled up, and flushed hot with embarrassment as she quickly flipped down her hem
to cover her knees. She didn’t think he saw. He’d been occupied switching off the cycle’s engine, putting it up on its kickstand.
Now he was removing his flying goggles, letting them dangle around his neck.

The dog got to its feet, yawning and stretching, and lumbered down the front steps to lick Herman’s hand. Herman gave the
dog a cursory pat, just to be amenable, Erica thought. She could tell from his time spent at the farm this past month that
Herman wasn’t very fond of animals.

“Mama made a chicken pot pie for supper,” Erica said. “I’ve kept some warm for you in the oven.”

“Thanks.” He shrugged listlessly. “I’m not very hungry.”

Erica pressed her lips together. “You feeling poorly on account of your work?”

Herman nodded. “Sort off.”

Herman and Teddy had been working hard on some newfangled gadget for the Jenny. When the work went wrong Herman invariably
became remote and introverted. Erica put up with it. That’s how men were, she guessed, and so God gave women the ability to
flirt and tease them out of their silly funks.

“Come sit beside me and tell me about it,” Erica comforted.

He came up on the porch and settled beside her on the glider, reaching tentatively, almost furtively, for her fingers, as
if after all this time he expected her to slap his hand away. He’d gotten more shy as their relationship progressed. She wished
that he understood people half as well as he knew his airplanes.

“Now tell me just what that nasty machine has been doing to you two boys,” she began to joke.

“It’s done,” Herman interrupted, turning toward her with a look of anguish. “The work’s done. I’ve dragged it out this past
month, but I can’t stall the captain any longer.”

She nodded, beginning to cry. She was quiet and stoic about it; she wasn’t going to act like a silly sob-sister, goddammit,
but she couldn’t help the tears filling her eyes and running down her cheeks.

“I haven’t told you, but the captain’s been sending me telegrams these past couple of weeks, demanding to know when I’m going
to link up with the troupe,” Herman was explaining.

“When are you leaving?” Erica asked simply, hopelessly.

“Tomorrow… Erica, I love you.”

She laughed lightly. “And I love you.” Her tears were on her lips. She kissed him, letting him taste the salt. “Just hold
me for a moment,” she asked him. “Just for a moment…”

“Oh, God,” Herman sighed. “Erica, maybe I don’t have to go. Your father came to talk to me at the garage last week. He’s no
fool, your father. He knows how we feel about each other. He took me aside and told me that there was room here in his business
for a son-in-law.”

“You’re no farmer,” Erica scoffed.

“And Teddy and I have become friends this past month,” Herman continued. “I’ve helped him out on some of his jobs. He’s got
more work in his garage than he can handle, and we work well together. Maybe I could become a partner with him.” He paused.
“A long time ago, I almost went into business with a friend running a garage…”

Erica pulled away from him. “If you do anything like that, I’ll never see you again.”

Herman stared at her. “I don’t understand. You said you love me?—”

“I do. Too much to have you throw away your life,” she said fiercely. “You’ve told me countless times that you want to achieve
great things in the field of aviation—”

“I know, but—”

“I believe you, Herman. I believe you can do it. I will
not
have you stay here, wasting your talents scratching in the dirt or fixing tractors. I want to help you
accomplish
your dreams, not be the cause of you
abandoning
them. Do you understand?”

“It means I’ll have to go away, Erica.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll find something having to do with flying to support us, and then I’ll come back for you.”

“If you don’t you’re a bigger fool than I thought you are, Herman Gold,” she warned him, nestling close. “You’ll come back,
and you’ll take me away with you.”

“Come with me flying,” Herman said.

“Now?” Erica asked, startled.

“Right now. The airplane’s all ready,” Herman said. “We trucked it out to the field and gassed it up this afternoon.”

“But it’s almost dark.”