Dreams Take Flight (23 page)

“Heather, what are you up to? Have you always been this horny?”

“Why do you ask? Besides, you’re the one who makes me horny. Come over here! Let’s see what we can get
you
up to.”

“I don’t know that we should be fooling around, Heather.”

“Come on, no one is here. What would it hurt?”

“The problem is we’re expecting people. Besides, you never answered my question.”

“What was the question?”

“How did you and Autumn make out when we had that little encounter?”

“Autumn and I didn’t make out; that was you and me. And it wasn’t a little encounter. As I recall, it was distinctly large.”

“Heather, will you knock it off? You know what I mean. You sure seem to be in a playful mood tonight.”

“That’s because I can’t get enough of the little general.”

“Well, I see more of the little general in your future. Now tell me about Autumn.”

“She asked a lot of questions, and I answered a few. I think she has a thing for you. The way she asked questions suggested there was more there than just curiosity. Anyway, the conversation just died and I left. Now are you going to come over here or not?”

Lucas was standing at the edge of the counter, directly in front of Heather.

“Now you’re mine,” said Heather.

As soon as she said those words, Mike pulled in right behind the cargo truck.

“Sorry, Heather,” Lucas said. “Next time.”

As Mike walked through the door, Lucas announced that everything was ready to go, except for a few entries on the flight manifest. Not wanting to delay the flight any longer, they both proceeded to the plane. Mike went straight to the cockpit and got their clearance. Lucas normally took care of that, but he wanted to make sure the cargo was properly loaded and secured. Convinced that everything in back was secured, Lucas proceeded to the cockpit. Once there, he found that Mike was waiting for him and had everything ready to go. Lucas buckled in, grabbed the checklist from the sunshield, and began his routine

“Mike, do you have the Alton approach plate for our emergency alternate? If not I’ll get mine out.”

“No need; I have it. The visibility there is running around a half mile. At least we can get in there is we do have an emergency. I wouldn’t even want to try to get back in here.”

“Mike, I don’t mind telling you I don’t like this shit!”

“No kidding—getting out will be our biggest problem, though. This fog is only a few hundred feet thick. Lucas, you ready to start on the right?”

“Sure, let’s do it. I’ll start the count. One, two, three...”

Counting blades was a duty foreign to the non-pilot population, and reminded Lucas of how unique his flying duties were. No one would ever guess that, when firing up the engines, each time a blade reached the top position it was counted to ensure there wasn’t a hydraulic lock in any cylinder. After twelve blades, the captain would turn the ignition switch on for that engine, which would usually fire right up, letting smoke bellow out from the exhaust stacks. The same procedure was then followed for the other engine.

“OK, Lucas,” Mike said, “you got the radio—let’s go.”

Lucas: “Ground Control, this is Convair three-seven-one-three-papa at Gold Coast. Ready taxi with information foxtrot.”

Controller: “Convair three-seven-one-three-papa, taxi to runway one-two right. Information gulf is current. The only change is in visibility, which continues to change—the last RVR was 1,000 feet. I’ll keep you posted as you taxi.”

Lucas: “Thanks, one-three-papa. Is this Jack?”

Controller: “No, this is Paul. Jack worked an earlier shift today.”

Lucas: “Are you working both ground and the tower tonight?”

Controller: “Just ground for now.

I don’t think we’ve spoken before,” Lucas said. “You don’t sound familiar. Are you new to St. Louis?”

Controller: “I came down from Springfield last week. This is my first evening shift.”

With a smile, Lucas responded, “Welcome to sunny St. Louis.”

Controller: “Thanks, but Springfield wasn’t any better.”

“Any reports from other departures?” Lucas asked.

“No, you guys are the only ones I’ve worked in the last hour. This fog has most everything shut down. Global got a clearance a little while ago, but haven’t heard from him since.”

Global Pilot: “Global six-fifty-two is still here. We’ll be ready for a push back shortly.”

Controller: “Roger, six-fifty-two—give me a call when ready.”

“Mike, I can’t see shit!” Lucas said. “Stop! Hang on while I get my window open—I’m going to have to stick my head out the window to see the edge of the taxi strip.”

Lucas proceeded to crank the side window open. It was a struggle to see the ground around the main gear. The side window frame was just below his shoulder, and with his belt fastened, Lucas was lucky to get most of his head through the window. It didn’t take long to feel the effects of a damp evening and a giant propeller turning near his head. Lucas suddenly longed for the peace and security of being inside.

Lucas momentarily pulled his head back in and looked at Mike, saying, “All right, we can go again, but stay left. Can you see the intersection, Mike?”

“Shit! I can’t even see the fuckin’ centerline much less the intersection.”

“I don’t see where you’ve got a choice, Mike. You’re going to have to stick your head out the window, too.”

Frustrated, Mike mumbled to himself, “I don’t believe this shit. Glad no one can see us.”

Lucas felt compelled to tell the Global pilot about their experience. “Global six-five-two? Is that right? You still on?”

“Sure are, what ya got?”

“This is Convair one-three-papa. We can’t see squat to taxi—just thought you would want to know.”

“Thanks. Not sure what we’re doing yet. We’re already an hour late for departure.”

“We are, too.”

“Mike, you see any better yet?” asked Lucas.

“Fuck no.”

“Mike, it’s going to take forever to get to the other end of the runway.”

“I know.”

Global Pilot: “Ground Control, this is Global six-fifty-two, gate thirty-two, ready to taxi with information gulf.”

Controller: “Global six-fifty-two, taxi to runway one-two right; give way to a Convair passing right to left.”

Global Pilot: “Global six-fifty-two, yield to the Convair.”

“Mike, I don’t like the sound of that,” Lucas said in an anxious voice. “Ground, this is Convair one-three-papa. We can’t see anything out here. Except for being on taxiway alpha, we don’t even know where we are—don’t let Global get together with us out here.”

Controller: “Roger, one three papa.”

Controller: “Global six-fifty-two, hold your position. I will tell you when you can proceed.”

Global Pilot: “Roger. Six-fifty-two, holding our current position.”

Controller: “Convair one-three-papa, Global is going to hold for you. Let me know when you reach the departure end of one-two right.”

Lucas: “Will do, one-three-papa.”

Controller: “Global six-fifty-two, what is your current position?”

Global Pilot: “Don’t know; we have the same problem as the Convair. I know we haven’t reached taxiway alpha yet.”

Controller: “OK, stay put. I’ll let you know when you can proceed.”

Global Pilot: “Six-fifty-two.”

“Lucas, where do you think we are?” Mike asked.

“Fuck. I don’t know, on a taxi strip?”

“I understand that. Think we will be able to see the end of the taxiway?”

“Mike, I don’t have a clue, but we don’t have an option but to continue. I’ve never heard of anyone just shutting down on a taxi strip, but I guess we could.”

“I guess, but what do we do then? We don’t even know where we are.”

“I suppose they could send a car out to find us. Mike, you ever see anything like this?”

“No, but hallelujah, I think we’ve reached the end!”

“Mike, I’ve got to tell you: I’m exhausted just taxiing to the runway.”

“Yeah, this is a terrible way to start a trip,” responded Mike.

At about the same time Mike declared them ready for departure, Global checked in over the outer marker on a final approach to land on the same runway Mike and Lucas intended to use.

“Lucas,” said Mike, “this should be interesting!”

“I’d like to see how he pulls this off. Tower, this is Convair one-three-papa. Captain says he has his courage up, so I guess we’re ready to go on one-two right.”

“Convair one-three-papa, hold short: landing traffic.”

“Hold short, one-three-papa,” replied Lucas. “Mike, he should be here in about a minute—want to place any bets on the outcome?”

“I don’t think so; I know how this approach will end.”

“Global three-twenty-nine executing a missed approach.”

As Global announced their missed approach, Mike and Lucas could barely see the bottom of the plane as it passed over the threshold of the runway. They could hear the engines spooling up to climb power.

“What do you think, Mike? Odds are the crew never saw any part of the runway.”

“Now
that
I would bet on,” murmured Mike.

Controller: “Roger Global three-twenty-nine. I show Indianapolis as your alternate, maintain your present heading and contact departure one-one-nine point-nine. Global three-twenty-nine—good day.”

Controller: “Convair one-three-papa: turn left three-six-zero, cleared for takeoff on runway one-two right.”

“One-three-papa,” Lucas said. “OK, Mike. I’ll call the numbers as usual, but I think we both need to watch for the centerline.”

“I’ll buy that. Let me get the landing lights on and see if that helps.” The lights turned on. “Wow, that’s too much glare, but I don’t see a choice. You?”

“No, let’s let her rip.”

With his right hand, Mike moved the throttles forward to takeoff power while Lucas followed the throttles with his left hand. As the power came up on both engines, the instruments seemed to move in unison. Everything came to life. Various warning lights went out while other lights came on, indicating that systems were functioning properly. The airplane began to accelerate quickly.

“OK, Mike, everything’s in the green and there’s forty-five knots.”

“Coming up on V1.”

Right after Lucas announced that V1 had been reached, a loud noise grabbed his attention. It was a noise that sounded like an engine backfiring.

“Mike we’re losing an engine,” announced Lucas.

The Convair continued to accelerate.

“MIKE, GODDAMN IT, WE’RE LOSING AN ENGINE,” yelled Lucas as he turned his attention away from the runway to look at Mike.

Mike responded by pulling the throttles of both engines and saying, “Lucas, pull the flaps—T handle.”

Mike applied heavy breaking and put both engines in full reverse. While Mike tried to bring their beast to a halt, Lucas held the wheel to prevent control damage from the changing air patterns. Lucas called the tower.

“Tower, one-three-papa is aborting!”

Controller: “One-three-papa, need the equipment?”

Lucas: “Negative—stand by, tower.”

“Lucas,” Mike said, “got any idea where we are? You see any markers?”

“None! We should have used about four thousand feet, so there should be lots of runway in front of us.”

Lucas: “Tower, one-three-papa.”

Controller: “One-three-papa, go ahead.”

Lucas: “One-three-papa: we were losing an engine and had to shut things down. We got her stopped, but we’re lost on the runway. If you can hold the traffic, we’re going to stay on the centerline and follow it to the end.”

Controller: “That’s approved, one-three-papa—give me a call when you clear the runway.”

One week later, Lucas could still vividly recall their slow, deliberate return to Gold Coast, still full of the precious cargo. That trip was to be Lucas’s last trip with State Side and he was disappointed that it ended as it did. He never found out what was wrong with the engine.

Lucas planned to take a little time off for graduation, and a little more to vacation before reporting to Global for his new job.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ready For Departure

T
he ceremony for summer graduates wasn’t as lavish as the one held in May for the regular graduating class, but it still had the requisite boring speakers. Lucas tuned the speakers out by thinking not only about his past, but about what his life looked like in the moment. He questioned the wisdom of spending his time reliving the past. Reflecting briefly on the past never hurt anyone, but to dwell on it made no sense to him.

It’s my future I should be thinking about,
he said to himself.
When I think of my future, I see a nearly blank canvas. I only have to decide what I want my future to look like. Therein lies the problem. I am smart enough to know that I have the ability to do whatever I want, and that my future will be the result of my actions. I won’t be able to blame anyone else if I screw things up.

I am graduating with my degree in psychology. I have a fantastic job that pays well and have an even better one waiting for me in a few weeks. I have a beautiful Corvette, fantastic boat, nice apartment: life is good. I don’t think I need to worry about my immediate future. Seems like my career is off to a good start.