“We’re headed to Sweetwater, Texas to train for the WASP,” Bet answered.
“WASP?” another man questioned.
“Women Airforce Service Pilots,” Bet said.
Reid was telling Liddy about all the lost and founds he’d discovered when he was a teenager and had a job cleaning train cars one summer. He stopped mid-sentence and looked wide-eyed at Liddy.
“Did you hear that, Major? These ladies are gonna be flying Army.”
Reid Trent’s eyes had changed and Liddy saw the moment he locked her out. He rose from his seat and spoke but didn’t look at her. “Miss, I’m sorry I didn’t catch your last name.”
“Hall.” Liddy looked up at him, trying to catch up with what was happening.
“Miss Hall, it was nice to meet you.” The major looked in her direction, but not at her, and extended his hand for the second time and accepted hers briefly before releasing it. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to some business. Have a safe trip.” He took his bag from the compartment overhead and left the car.
Liddy felt abandoned like someone had cradled her, dropped her to the floor, and then stepped over her and walked away. She was stunned but tried to appear detached from what had just happened, whatever it was. Liddy shifted toward Bet’s chatterfest and feigned an interest, while she tried to make sense of the sudden turn in Reid Trent. She soon accepted what she knew was true. The more she stewed, the more her irritation grew.
She had never cared what anyone thought of her being a pilot before. It had never put a chink in her, but this time she cared. When enough time had passed since Major Reid Trent had left the car, she excused herself and went back to her seat and then to the sleeping berth. She unbuttoned and let her clothes fall to the floor and buried herself under the blankets. An ache filled her that called for home and kept her awake, but when Bet came into the room, Liddy laid still and pretended to be asleep.
Chapter Seven
Major Reid Trent didn’t return to the car that night or the next day, which was fine with Liddy. She had dismissed the whole thing and scolded herself for being such a sap. The call for Sweetwater, Texas came just after lunch and the soon-to-be WASP trainees gathered their luggage. With her suitcase in hand, Liddy climbed down from the train. Bet followed with her red case clutched in one hand and her matching bag slung over her shoulder.
After traveling in the rocker for so many days, it would take some time before they would have steady legs again, and the women felt the solid ground move beneath their feet. Through the people coming and going, Liddy spotted Major Trent exit a car at the end of the train, and an uninvited yearning reared up, which she immediately hushed. He walked to a waiting Army jeep and was saluted by the driver posted by the passenger side door. The driver took the Major’s duffle bag and threw it in the back seat.
“Now what?” Bet broke Liddy’s trance.
“Huh?”
“What now?”
Liddy snapped out of her daze and read the paper clutched in her hand. “Come on.” She headed toward town and Bet followed.
With their luggage in tow, the women walked street to street. The town was an extreme contrast to what Liddy had known in Holly Grove since it had been quieted by the war. Sweetwater had the dismay and fortune to be the funnel and neighbor to a military facility, which changed a place. And for Sweetwater, the facility was solely to train female pilots to fly for the Army, which was an added oddity. But it covered up the loss of their sons and brothers, so apprehension mixed with the relief of distraction.
The women were aware that they were being watched by the people they passed. When they walked by a filling station, a small girl hopped out of a pickup truck. She shuffled to the sidewalk in shoes that she hadn’t yet grown into. “Ma’ams, are you the pilot women?”
“Yes, we are.” Liddy smiled down at her.
“Can I git your autographs?” The child held up a postcard-sized book that had been put together with paper and string.
Bet was amazed, but it was old hat for Liddy. “Sure, honey.” Liddy took the book and flipped to a blank page.
“I don’t got no pen. Do you?”
Liddy looked at Bet looking down at the girl. She was still stunned, but she slowly unsnapped her purse and felt around the inside. She found a pen and handed it to Liddy. Liddy signed and passed it to Bet, who was now giggling at the whole notion. Bet signed and handed the book back to the child.
The girl’s father came out of the station and disapproved. “Rhonda, you come on now.”
The girl handed the pen back to Bet.
“You keep it,” Bet told her.
“Thank you,” The little fan gripped the pen with her book and didn’t take her eyes off the signatures as she shuffled back to her father’s truck. He opened the door and herded his daughter in.
When they saw the sign, Blue Bonnet Hotel, Bet grabbed the back of Liddy’s arm and squeezed. Their excitement was frosted with the travel hangover that soaked them from head to toe. The hotel was crawling with newly arrived WASP trainees. Women lounged around the lobby and some swooshed in and out of the elevator and the coffee shop. Other guests came and went too, including big cowboys with big ten gallon hats, some with pretty Texas belles on their arms. Families and men and women of all ages walked in and out, but the fly girls were different and Liddy could pick them out. A spirit exuded from these women—it was unmistakable. Liddy heard bits of conversations between women who hailed from the world of female flyers that she knew nothing about.
“Do you know Francine Ladler?”
“Yeah, I met her at the Benton Roundup. Do you know Rachel Middleton?”
Talk of cross country flying, air races and flight clubs, chatter about schools, families and boyfriends, swirled and bounced around the room. Liddy knew from the requirements that the women would range in age from eighteen to thirty-five, but as she looked around she realized this wasn’t what she expected. Not that she knew what she expected, but these women came in all types—short, tall, exceptionally attractive, exceptionally ordinary, quite loud, quite reserved. But they all seemed to know exactly what they were doing. She was glad she met Bet first. It made what she was looking at less overwhelming somehow. Still, when Bet looked at her beaming over the welcome chaos, Liddy beamed back.
Behind the front desk a woman was juggling mail, guest registers and fielding questions from the mob. Bet slipped through the crowd standing in front of the check-in counter and Liddy followed in her wake.
“Excuse me,” said Bet.
“What’s your name, darlin’?”
“Betsy Bailey and…” Bet waited for Liddy.
“Lidia Hall.”
“Lidia, huh?” teased Bet.
“Liddy to you, Betsy.”
The desk clerk continued, “Ya’ll are plannin’ to share a room, I hope. We got all you gals comin’ in and there’s an oil man’s convention in town. There’s no privacy ‘round this place, till tomorrow that is when the cattle car comes round for all ya’ll at ten a.m.”
Bet’s eyes saucered and she grabbed Liddy’s arm, “Cattle Car?”
Liddy and Bet took the elevator to the fourth floor. Other than the Mayfair in St. Louis, where she’d had her WASP interview, Liddy had never been in a hotel. Wall-to-wall carpets were printed with vines and flowers. Two twin beds had curved headboards that were covered in coral tapestry, and the light green wallpaper had a pattern that was a shadow of the same color. Two forest green upholstered chairs sat in front of the window that was trimmed with a dark mahogany and looked out over a busy street. A writing desk was angled in the corner and had a pen and stationary set out and waiting. The room had a private bathroom and Liddy envisioned her trailer back home fitting into the space. It all seemed an odd entry to Army training but Liddy decided she’d better enjoy it.