Liddy was unusually demure and Crik caught it and set out to study the why.
Liddy’s tongue felt thick. “Thought I’d take the Jenny out for a run, see how she’s clippin’, if that’s okay?”
Crik left his work and planted himself in front of her before he answered, “Sure you can. But you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” Liddy removed herself from Crik’s inspection and moved toward the plane he was working on. She drummed her fingers on the fabric skin. “How’s she running?”
“This old girl? I think she may be tryin’ to tell me she’s parts.”
Liddy didn’t look up at Crick but stared at her fingers as they tapped out a beat. “No, Jenny. How’s she running?”
“Great,” said Crik.
“Great,” said Liddy.
Liddy walked to the Jenny and began to circle—she tugged, pushed, pulled and she slid her bare hand over the seams and bends of the old girl’s body. When she was done with that, she climbed onto the wing and bounced gently. Crik took the rag that tailed from his pocket and polished his wrench and watched her.
Cars were everywhere, parked every which way, an unexpected splotch on the wide open landscape. Meadows rolled into the hills and back down into open spaces. Not one house, barn, or fence dotted the view. The car park was bordered by a dried-up river bed and a railroad bridge on one side; a bustle of seedy-looking characters mixed about like a busy pile of ants on the other. It was a foreign invasion in a pure land.
In the distance, the Jenny could be seen flying into view. Liddy took a tour over the bridge and along the sandy trail that it crossed. She knew this land—she’d studied it—but examined it again, etching every rise and fall in her memory. An urge to make one more pass over the stretch nagged her gut, but she knew a crowd was waiting and watching. She flew around and set her path to land in the meadow and the plane waddled as it rolled along the contours of the virgin run earth.
Liddy jumped from the wing and waited for Daniel who emerged from the crowd and jogged out onto the field.
“How’s it going?” Liddy asked.
The furrows that were rutted across Daniel’s forehead twitched. “We’ve raked it in. It’s a lot of money, Liddy, a lot of money. Half of them didn’t know a lady was going up till they got here. Bets started flyin’ and odds shot through the roof when word spread.”
Stupidity working in our favor… Good! “Everything’s set then?” Liddy could feel the nay-say swell her confidence.
“Yeah, the bets are closed, Buck and Hal are trying to look tough, and Celia’s posted the final odds,” Daniel reported.
“What are they? No, don’t tell me. Well, I better get up there so we can clear out of here.”
“Liddy, are you sure about this?”
“No turning back now, Danny Boy. We try to back out on this rabble and… I’ll have to figure out a way to get all five of us in this plane and onto another continent.”
“I should never have let you talk me into this.” Daniel squirmed.
“I need to do this. I need the money, you know that. This payday will be good for all of us. For sure for you and Celia and the boys no matter what happens.” Liddy winked and grinned and mussed Daniel’s hair before jumping back up onto the wing of the plane.
“Not funny, Liddy.” Daniel worked his hands into his pockets and squinted up at her and asked, “Can you do it?”
“Heard it’s been done, even upside down, I’ll do that next time. Besides—”
Daniel interrupted, “Don’t say it, Liddy.”
“Sorry, friend, I have to. I’ll wait till you’re out of earshot though. Relax, Danny, It’s gonna be fine.”
Liddy was about to climb back into the cockpit when Daniel said, “Oh, Liddy, I forgot something. You have to take your cap off so everyone can see you’re really a woman.”
“Why, Daniel Cooper, I’m surprised you didn’t make a deal that I’d do this thing topless.”
“Liddy, I didn’t—”
“I’m just kidding.” Liddy snapped back the flap from under her chin, pulled off her cap and waved it triumphantly, and then she shook her hair wildly.
The mob hooted and cheered.
Liddy hopped into the cockpit and fit the cap back on her head. She was careful to make sure all of her hair was securely tucked away, and she set her goggles over her eyes and snugged the band. She pulled on her gloves, buckled her seat strap and tugged to test its hold, then looked down at Daniel. “Hey, Danny.”
“What?”
“You’d make sure Jack was taken care of?”
“Liddy, you said it’s gonna be fine.”
“It is. I just need to know. You’d take my share and take care of everything?”
“Yeah sure, you know I would. But, Liddy—”
“It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”
She throttled and gave Daniel a thumbs-up and he jogged back toward the crowd as she balanced the rudder between her feet and bumped the plane around to face the long reach of the field where Liddy told herself, “It’s a pretty good day to die.”
The Jenny sat motionless for a worrisome amount of time. Daniel and Celia, who had the coffer clenched to her breast, waited nervously. The crowd stopped their chatter and paused in silence.
“Daniel?” questioned Celia as she reached over and squeezed his hand.
Daniel’s gaze was frozen on the plane. “Everything’s fine. Liddy knows what she’s doing.”
Finally, the plane began to move. Daniel and Celia relaxed—slightly. Elbows nudged and the babble resumed. Picking up speed until the wheels hopped off the ground, Liddy climbed, leveled and circled wide. She straightened out and headed back toward the sandy river bottom.
Pressed firmly against the seat back, Liddy shot the plane along the trail of trees and overgrowth. Gently, she moved the stick forward, taking the nose of the plane lower and lower. She mashed down and dipped the plane closer to the ground as she approached the bridge.
Liddy tried to remember what she had recorded about the terrain and she focused her view to the underbelly of the bridge like it was a target. The air was cool and damp as though the memories of the water that had run to a shore somewhere or had trickled away down the line, were reminding her how close she was to the earth and that this was not the sky.
Liddy disappeared under the bridge into a flash of shadow and in an instant the plane emerged from the other side into the sunlight, but she was flying low, too low. Wings, belly and wheels of the bird brushed violently against the limbs of trees and shrubs. Liddy was knocked with furious jolts around the cockpit. Clumps of branches and foliage consumed her view ahead.
“Pull up, pull up,” she commanded herself.
Liddy dodged the brush and boughs that were slapping her goggles, head and upper torso from all sides. She struggled to see as she pulled the stick back between her legs. Gradually the plane began to rise out of the hedge, and the scene became one of blue sky. Liddy’s hands were numb; she couldn’t feel the stick in her grasp, and the plane swooped back and forth like it was in a luge tunnel.
“Not now, not now. Come on not now.”
Back at the crowd, the gamblers were abuzz with the jubilant winners and the dashed losers and they were no longer paying attention to the final stage of Liddy’s flight. She made it under the bridge and that was all they needed to know. Daniel and Celia were fixed on the plane as it dipped up and down erratically above the tree tops.
Liddy began to pray, “Oh, God, give me my hands.” She took the stick between her wrists and thighs and squeezed in. Her limbs were doing the best they could, but she couldn’t guide the stick or rudder smoothly. The plane fought from side to side as it circled toward the meadow.
When Liddy found the ground, the landing was still uncertain, and the wheels clumsily bounced up and down. Too far right then too far left, the plane leaned side to side like a tightrope walker losing balance. Finally, the bird centered itself and rolled awkwardly to rest still on the earth. Daniel and Celia grabbed each other and twirled triumphantly, and he kissed her long and hard, then patted her bottom as she left to make the pay offs.