A Bright Tomorrow (22 page)

Amos gave a delighted laugh. “That's all right, Miss Dupree. Better a captive audience than none at all.”

“What are you doing here, Amos?” Owen asked. “Writing a story on the airplane business?”

“That's it. Airplanes are going to be really big, I think, so I wanted to get in on the beginning.”

As the two brothers stood talking, Allie felt more and more out of place. “I'm going to walk around for a while,” she announced. “I'll keep an eye on Joey, so you two can talk.”

“After the flight we'll go get something to eat.” Amos smiled. “I want to warn you about this baby brother of mine.” When she walked away, Amos asked at once, “Who is she, Owen?” He listened as his brother told him how he'd found the pair and how the colonel had given them a job.

“How old is she?”

Owen stared at him, then said curtly, “Too young for what you're thinking, Amos. She's just a kid.”

At once Amos saw that he'd overstepped his bounds and began to talk about Lylah and the folks. Gradually, Owen relaxed, and soon the two men were deep in conversation, keeping one eye on the flying machine.

Allie moved around among the small crowd that had gathered, never taking her eyes off Joey for long. There were far fewer people than she had expected, and she soon went over to stand beside a wagon that was drawn up near one of the outbuildings. As she leaned back against the wheel, a voice called out, “Hidee, Missy!”

Allie looked up quickly and saw a small man in a faded jacket, peering at her from the seat. He got out of the wagon slowly, every movement evidently painful, and when he was on the ground, he lifted a cane from the wagon and limped over to stand beside her. He could have been anywhere from forty to sixty, Allie thought. His hair was thick and his eyes were bright, but his skin was wrinkled with age or weather.

“The name's Ivory Bill Parker,” he introduced himself. “Come to see the show, did you?”

“Yes. Will it be soon, do you think?”

“Ought to be, but Mr. Wright's got to please them officers.” He leaned back against the wagon, grimaced with pain, then shook his head. “Sure is tough, a man like me having to cripple around.”

“Did a horse throw you?”

“No,
that
threw me!” He jerked his thumb toward the back of the wagon, and Allie looked inside, seeing only a very large basket and piles of some kind of colored material. “Don't you know what that is, missy?”

“No. What is it?”

“Why, it's a balloon!” Parker shook his head sadly as he considered the basket. “Wish I'd never seen the blamed thing!”

Allie had seen several balloon ascensions and had been tremendously thrilled by them. Once in Topeka, Kansas, a man named Harkness had been hired by Colonel Fletcher to perform. The crowds had increased dramatically, for Harkness had not only ascended in his balloon, but had jumped out of it with a parachute.

An idea began to form in Allie's mind. “You fell out of your balloon, Mr. Parker?”

“No, I jumped too soon and broke both legs, missy. Been laid up for near four months. 'Bout drove me crazy! Just let me get back to Texas, and you won't see me in any more of these fool things!” He was a talkative man, and Allie was a rapt listener. Parker told her how a friend of his had convinced him that the two of them could get rich by buying a balloon and making parachute jumps. The only trouble was, according to Parker, his partner did none of the jumping and drank up all the profits.

Allie listened, careful not to betray her mounting excitement. “You'll be taking your balloon to Texas, I guess.”

“No! I come here to sell the fool thing!” Parker looked around at the sparse crowd, then shook his head mournfully, “It's a washout, missy. These army folks don't want no balloon, and neither do these farmers.”

For a while, Allie stood talking with the small man. But the idea that had come to her wouldn't go away. She felt silly, even thinking about it, but she knew that Fletcher Shows was having a difficult time. The year 1907 had been a bad one for the country. In October, the worst stock market crash since the Panic of 1901 had jarred the country. Millionaires such as E. H. Harriman had been hard hit, but the average American had been hit even worse. The crowds at the show had fallen off drastically, and within six months, the Colonel had let everyone go except the mainstays of the company. Allie and Joey worried a great deal, knowing that they were staying on only at Owen's insistence. Both of them had worked as hard as they could, but they had no money-making skills, nothing to help draw people to the show.

Standing beside Ivory Bill Parker, Allie made up her mind. Forcing all the arguments aside, she turned to the little man and said, “I've got a proposition for you—”

An hour later, Amos and Owen were joined by Joey, who came rushing up, his eyes bright as stars. “I met Mr. Wright, Owen, and he says I can work for him when I get older!”

“No foolin'?” Owen grinned. He introduced Joey to Amos, then asked, “When's the thing going to fly?”

“Any minute now. You see that man with Mr. Wright? That's Lieutenant Selfridge. He told me all about the airplane, and he's going to fly with Mr. Wright.”

A roar from the small engine broke the silence, and Amos said, “Looks like they're about ready.”

“Sure wish I was in there with them.” Joey sighed wistfully. “Lieutenant Selfridge said if I'd stay around, maybe he could get Mr. Wright to give me a ride!”

They watched as the kite-like affair began to move. Wright and Selfridge sat side by side, and the machine picked up speed as it moved across the field. It lifted off the ground gracefully, and a shout went up from the spectators. “By golly, that thing really works!” Owen said in awe.

The plane rose, then began to circle. “That's been the trouble with these things,” Amos observed. “They go pretty well straight away, but nobody's been able to make them turn with any kind of success. Looks like the Wrights have got that whipped!”

The plane made three circles of the field, then something seemed to go wrong. Hearing a loud tapping, Wright appeared to try to shut off the power, but three seconds later the entire machine began to shake, almost throwing the two men from their seats! With the power off, the machine was out of control and apparently nothing he did with the levers had any effect. Then the plane nosed down and headed for the ground in a perpendicular dive.

“They're going to crash!” Joey cried.

For one electrifying moment, it seemed as if the plane might pull out of the dive. But there was no time, and the sound of the crash ripped through the air as the machine plowed into the ground.

At once the ground crew and the officers ran to the wreck and began frantically working with the two men. “One of them was thrown clear,” Amos said hopefully. “He ought to be all right. It's the one who's in the wreckage I'm worried about.”

Amos moved in closer as they began to bring in the injured men. Recognizing one of the officers, he called out, “Are they all right, Major Little?”

The officer gave him a stricken look. “Mr. Wright is badly injured. A broken leg and some ribs, probably.”

“What about Lieutenant Selfridge?” Joey asked.

Major Little stared at the boy, then shook his head. “Tom Selfridge is dead, my boy. His skull was crushed in the fall. He died instantly.”

Amos saw the boy's eyes fill with tears and knew he had the lead for his story. He spent the next hour talking to the officer and crew. Owen stayed with him, shocked by the tragedy, but fascinated by the way his brother was able to piece it all together.

Amos looked harried. “I'd like to spend time with you, Owen, but I've got to get this story written.”

“Sure, I know. But say, we'll be close to New York City in about two weeks. Why don't we get together then?”

“Great! I'll get Lylah to come with me, and we'll catch your act!”

Owen left and, when he got back to the car, he found Allie there, her arm around Joey. The boy's face was pale, and tear tracks still stained his cheeks.

“I guess we'd better get back,” Owen said awkwardly, not certain of what to say to the boy. “We'll have to hurry to make the first show.”

“Owen, you go ahead,” Allie insisted. “Joey and I will be a little late.”

“What's that, Allie?” Owen asked in bewilderment. Then he saw the horse-drawn wagon and the small man sitting on the seat.

“This is Ivory Bill Parker, Owen,” Allie said quickly. “We'll ride back with him.” She saw Owen's face take on a stubborn set and, before he could refuse, she rushed on. “He's our new partner. We're going into show business together.”

“Show business? What's this fellow up to?”

“He owns a balloon,” Allie explained, aware that Owen was glaring at the man on the wagon. “Colonel Fletcher will be glad to have Ivory Bill. You remember how well the show did in Topeka when the balloonist was there. Ivory Bill's had an accident, but Joey can handle the balloon.”

Owen didn't like it. “And what exactly do
you
do, Allie?”

Allie looked him directly in the eye and said defiantly, “Me, Owen? Oh, I do the parachute jump.”

E
veryone except Owen was highly in favor of the new act—especially Colonel Fletcher.

When Owen cornered the owner and expressed his feelings in a rather vehement fashion, Fletcher was astonished. “Why, Owen, I'm surprised at you.” The colonel had been drinking rather more than usual, and he spoke carefully to avoid slurring his words. “This is a
splendid
opportunity for the young people.”

“A splendid opportunity for Allie to break her neck you mean!” Owen had spent almost the entire two days since Ivory Bill Parker had burst on the scene, trying to talk Allie out of the enterprise—with no success whatsoever. Now he was arguing with the colonel, his eyes bright with anger. “What if she gets hurt…or
killed
…in that fool contraption? Could you live with that?”

But it was useless, for the colonel was a desperate man. Receipts were down and he was deeply in debt. Privately he agreed with Owen, but he was seventy-one years old and not a well man. Finally he put an end to Owen's arguments. “It's not my responsibility, Owen. If the girl wants to take the risk, it's her decision. Now let's hear no more about it!”

Owen left Fletcher's office and made his way toward the wagon where he found Allie and Joey engaged in inflating the balloon. It was a rather simple task, consisting of stretching out the fabric of the bag so that hot air from a portable gas furnace could flow into it. Joey and Allie were holding the colorful balloon in place as Parker managed the furnace. Just as Owen arrived, the hot air swelled the limp fabric so that the balloon, tethered by guy ropes, lifted off the ground and hovered over the little man.

“I want to talk to you, Parker!” Owen burst out.

But Allie took one look at his face and said, “Just a minute, Owen—”, and he was forced to stand there until the balloon was fully inflated. Parker shut off the roaring gas. “Now, let it go!”

“Let me go up in it, Bill!” Joey cried out, and at the man's nod, he scrambled into the worn wicker canopy. “Let 'er go, Allie!” he shouted as the balloon rose a full eight feet, then was brought up short by a single rope tied to a stake.

Parker and Allie grabbed a pair of ropes dangling from the basket and, as the little man loosed the anchor, the balloon began to rise.

“It's too hot!” Parker shouted in alarm as he was jerked off his feet and lifted into the air, a short distance off the ground. Owen leapt to grab the rope and his weight brought the balloon slowly back to earth. When his feet touched, he held on to the rope.

“That's the way!” Parker yelped. “Now, let it out!”

Owen gave him a sour look, but began to play out the rope, hand over hand, commanding, “Go help Allie!”

It was not as difficult as he thought, and as he looked up, he saw that Joey was peering over the edge, cheering him on. “Let 'er go, Owen!”

Slowly the balloon rose, but was soon caught by a breeze and began to drift toward the south. Owen, worried about Joey, watched as it floated gently on the light breeze. He kept his grip on the rope. “That's enough…let's bring her down!” Parker yelled.

Out of curiosity, Owen eased his grip, and as he suspected, both Allie and Parker were tugged upward, suspended by their ropes. “Wonderful!” he said sarcastically. “Is this part of the act, Bill? The two of you dangling from that thing?” He began to haul the balloon down with powerful jerks, and finally it settled. Almost as soon as the basket touched the earth, the balloon began to collapse as the air inside cooled off.

Joey was out of the basket in an instant, his face flushed with excitement. “It was great! I could see for about a hundred miles!”

Owen stepped back from the folds of cloth, a disgusted look on his face.

“Thanks a lot, big fella!” Parker said quickly. He hastened on. “I have a winch I use to keep the balloon from getting away like that, but the youngsters were so anxious to try it out that I didn't take the time.”

“Look, if you can't handle the balloon, how in the world do you think you can control a parachute jump?” Owen demanded. “If you want to break your own legs, Parker, that's your business…but I'm responsible for these young people, and I'm not going to put up with it!”

Allie and Joey had already discussed the fact that Owen would be dead set against the act. But both of them were determined, and now Allie came to stand in front of Owen. “I know how you feel, but it'll be all right.” Her dark blue eyes were soft, for she knew that his anger was fueled by concern. “This is just something I have to do, don't you see? Joey and I can't go on forever, letting you support us.”

Owen moved his shoulders in a gesture of impatience. “That's got nothing to do with it! Anyway, what if you get killed? Who'll look out after Joey then?”

But Allie and Joey had gone over all that, and now Allie put her hand on Owen's strong arm, trying to make him listen to reason. Though she argued long and hard, she had discovered a stubborn streak in the big man.

Finally Owen pulled away, saying angrily, “All right…go on and kill yourself then!”

“Aw, he'll come around, Allie,” Ivory Bill said, noting the stricken look on the girl's face. Joey came up to add, “Sure he will. He's just afraid for you, that's all. But when he sees how easy it is, why, he'll be proud of you!”

Allie frowned, not sure about that. “I guess you'd better give me a lesson or two on parachuting, Bill.”

Ivory Bill shrugged. “Only three things to know, and I can't help you with two of them. Lesson number one: Don't jump until I give you the signal.”

“What about lesson number two?”

“Well, I can give the signal, Allie,” Parker said slowly, watching her face, “but I can't
make
you jump. When you're up there all alone, I expect you'll find out it's pretty hard to turn loose. And there's nothing I can do to help you with that…nothing anyone can do, I guess.”

“Aw, Allie can do it!” Joey said. “Now, what's the third lesson, Bill?”

“Just pull that ol' rip cord, kid! Most people don't have any trouble with that one…it's number two that causes problems!”

“Where's Allie?” Ivory Bill asked as Owen shoved his way through the crowd that surrounded the colorful balloon. “Go get her, Owen,” he yelped nervously. “Joey and me will hold on here, but I think she may have got cold feet.”

“All right, Bill.”

As Owen plowed his way through the throng, he noted that at least it was a fine day for a jump—sunshine, only a slight breeze, and warm enough to be just comfortable. And the advance billing the colonel had put out seemed to have worked, for the fairgrounds had filled up as they hadn't in months.

“Allie?” he called as he reached the dressing room, but got no answer. “Allie, are you here?” He pushed his way through the flap and saw her, standing very still in the middle of the small space. Her face, he saw at once, was pale, and her lips were almost white as she pressed them together.

Why, she's paralyzed,
Owen thought, and his first impulse was to rush forward and say,
Now, you see? That's enough of this foolishness. Get that silly rig off and let's forget this nonsense.

But he had a forewarning that it would not be that simple. Stepping into the room, a thought flashed into his mind.
If she doesn't jump, she won't be able to try anything—ever.
He had seen enough of life to know that this was a universal truth. He'd seen men, thrown by a horse, who had lost their nerve, and he'd made it a point when anything frightened him, to put his head down, ignore the fear, and plunge right in again.
Better to be dead than scared all the time!

An idea came to him, then, and knowing he had to get her mind off the actual jump, he put a frown on his face and said angrily, “Now you listen to me, Allie Dupree…you are
not
going to wear that outfit!”

Allie had been projecting herself to the moment when she'd be high in the air and had convinced herself that she would not be able to turn loose and drop into nothingness. She had made two practice jumps, and each time it had taken all she had to simply loosen her grasp. Ivory Bill had warned her:
It's different with a crowd yelling, Allie. I've seen one or two who could do it with nobody around, but they just froze when the spotlight was on them.

She blinked at Owen's obvious displeasure and looked down at the costume she and Bill had rigged up. “What's wrong with it?”

“Why, it's disgraceful!” Owen glared at her, raking her with his eyes.

Allie was wearing a pair of new riding breeches that clung tightly to her slim figure, a pair of glossy black boots that came over her thighs, and a crimson silk blouse, that did nothing to disguise her womanly curves. Her honey-colored hair, tied by a single golden band, fell over her back, and a neckerchief of black silk was knotted at her throat.

Secretly Owen thought she looked beautiful, but he kept the frown intact as he continued his tirade. “That—that outfit is too tight,” he insisted. “Now you go put on some decent clothes, or I forbid you to step out there in public!”

As he had planned, Allie was so angry over his criticism that she forgot all about her fear. Color crept back into her cheeks and her eyes fairly sparked as she shot back, “There's nothing wrong with this costume, Owen Stuart! Your girlfriend Cecily wears about enough to keep inside the law, and you never say a word to
her!
You're just an old—” Allie faltered, unable to come up with a name vile enough to express her opinion. Then she threw her head back, stared up at Owen defiantly, and said, “You
dentist
!”

“Dentist?” Owen's jaw dropped and he could barely suppress a smile. “What kind of name is that? Never mind…you get out of that thing, or you can't do the act!”

“I'll do it…and I'll do it in
this
outfit!”

Allie shoved past Owen, ignoring him as he followed close behind, telling her she
just couldn't
wear such a thing, but she missed the gleam of satisfaction on his face.

“There you are!” Ivory Bill burst out as she appeared amidst the applause of the crowd. “Git in that parachute…and Allie, don't even
think
about it. Just put your mind in cold storage, and when you hear the gunshot, just let go and pull that ol' ripcord!”

Parker's advice was all that saved Allie, for as she got into the basket, she was suddenly aware of the crowd—every eye trained on her. She gasped as if a bucket of cold water had been dashed in her face. She had never been on a stage of any kind, had certainly never been the center of attention of hundreds of people. Now she saw them as individuals, not as a faceless mob, which made it worse. The men were staring at her boldly, some of them turning to make comments to their friends, and from their coarse laughter, she could imagine what they were saying! There was a glitter of expectancy in the eyes of other spectators.
They want to see me fall,
Allie thought. It was the same sort of thing that drew people to Owen's fights—the perverse thrill of seeing a man cut to bits or knocked unconscious.

She heard Colonel Fletcher begin his spiel about how dangerous this stunt was, how the young lady had performed before the crowned heads of Europe and such. Then she heard Joey whisper loudly, “Smile, Allie! Wave at the crowd like we practiced!”

Somehow Allie came up with a smile and waved at the spectators, but her mind was stretching ahead to that moment when she would have to let go and dive at the ground. She heard Ivory Bill call out, “Here we go, Allie!” and felt the balloon surge upward. The ground fell away, and everything seemed to shrink. She was still smiling and waving, but as she spotted Owen looking up with an agonized expression on his face and growing smaller by the second, she tasted the metallic tang of fear.

As the paralyzing emotion gripped her, Allie tried to take Ivory Bill's advice.
Put your mind in cold storage!
She took her eyes off the ground, knowing that she could never jump unless she did. The horizon was beautiful. The sun striking the tin roofs of barns gave them a silver sheen, while far in the distance the hills lifted, clearing the earth with burly shoulders. The muted sounds of the calliope and the yelling of the crowd might have drifted to her in a dream as the breeze swayed the canopy gently.

Allie grasped the shrouds and, keeping her eyes on the horizon, put one leg over the rim of the basket, then the other. Clinging tightly to the line that connected the frail basket to the balloon overhead, she grasped the rip cord with her other hand. She could still hear the crowd, their cheers thin and far away, but put everything out of her mind. Her jaws were clamped together so tightly that they hurt, but she was only conscious of one thing—the sound of a gunshot.

It came sooner than she had expected it—a clear, short explosion—and, without thought, she turned loose the line she was holding and launched herself away from the basket. The wind whipped at her hair and terror gripped her throat, but she yanked the rip cord with all her might.

There was one terrible moment, as she plunged toward the hard earth below, when nothing seemed to happen.
It didn't open!
The thought screamed through her mind. But then she heard a popping sound, and the harness bit into her flesh. The crowd roared as her plunge slowed abruptly, and then she was swaying back and forth gently.

Thank you, God!
Allie had never learned to pray, but this cry came from the depths of her spirit. She looked down and saw Joey dancing up and down, holding on to Ivory Bill. The faces of the crowd looked very white, and Allie could now smile and wave back at them.

She landed as Ivory Bill had instructed, her knees bending to take the shock of the landing.