Blackbirds
BLACKBIRDS
A NOVEL
Blackbirds
GARRY
RYAN
COPYRIGHT © GARRY RYAN 2012
All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law. In the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying of the material, a licence must be obtained from Access Copyright before proceeding.
LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION
Ryan, Garry, 1953â
Blackbirds / Garry Ryan.
ISBN
978-1-927063-21-7
I. Title.
PS
8635.
Y
354
B
53 2012Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
C
813'.6Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
C
2012-902346-9
Editor for the Board: Jenna Butler
Cover and interior design: Natalie Olsen, Kisscut Design
Cover photography: (jet) micjan/Photocase
Author photo: Ben Ryan
NeWest Press acknowledges the financial support of the Alberta Multimedia Development Fund and the Edmonton Arts Council for our publishing program. We further acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund (
CBF
) for our publishing activities. We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts which last year invested $24.3 million in writing and publishing throughout Canada.
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No bison were harmed in the making of this book.
printed and bound in Canada    1  2  3  4  5  13  12
for
Sharon
The red-winged blackbird
of the Canadian
prairie is
unremarkable in
size and the female is
unremarkable in colour.
Little larger
than a sparrow, the more skilled flyers
of this species
will drive away intruders many
times their own size.
In fact,
blackbirds have been
known to perch between the
wings of an airborne hawk or crow,
and peck on the
head of the predator
until it
withdraws.
[
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Women of the Air Transport Auxiliary flew Spitfires later in World War II than is depicted in this novel. Also, Tempsford, or Gibraltar Farm, became operational later than depicted. ]
CONTENTS
[ MAY 1940 ]
“I already know who he is, and where he is.”
Sharon Lacey watched the soldiers march past. They were like one entity, with arms and legs moving in unison. She heard the uniform applause of their heels as they struck the pavement. She saw their faces, the blank stares of defeat. Their helmets glistening with a layer of mist.
It's as if the
whole world is wearing khaki,
she thought
.
“Do you plan to do anything about it?” Linda Townsend crossed her legs and took a drag on her cigarette. Her red hair was cut scandalously short, and she wore a white flying suit with the front zipped down to reveal a white blouse and blue tie. She looked at Sharon, who sat next to her on the rock wall at the eastern edge of the airfield. The tarmac road running past the wall led to an army camp about five miles down the road.
“You think they're the boys from Dunkirk?” Sharon put her hands between the rock and a backside that was complaining about the rough edges of several stones.
“Their kit looks new,” Linda said. “Their boots are new. Supposedly, they left the beaches with little more than the clothes on their backs. It's being called a victory. Our army plucked off the beach and saved from certain defeat by the Nazis. By the looks on their faces, they don't feel like victors.” Linda looked over her shoulder. The fog was sifting away from the grass of the airfield. She could make out a low, red building with white window frames. “It's lifting.” She carefully tapped the hot end of her cigarette against a stone, touched it with her fingertips, and put the remainder in the pocket of her flight suit. “Come on. If we get through today, we'll be off to White Waltham. It's a little airfield next to London where the
ATA
is beginning its operations.”
“
ATA
? How come you British never speak English? It's all
ATA, RAF, BBC, WC,
” Sharon said.
“Air Transport Auxiliary. We get to fly all the kites the big boys get to play with. The difference is, we're not supposed to have Jerry shooting at us.”
I'll never get used to this place,
Sharon thought.
Nobody speaks
English. Jerry means German.
RAF
means Royal Air Force. Git means
asshole
.
It's like learning a new language
.
An engine sputtered and caught.
Sharon swung around, using her arms to push herself away from the wall. She landed softly in the long grass. It swished against her flying boots as she walked. She looked down. The toes were already coated with dew. She zipped up her leather
RAF
Irvin sheepskin jacket as she walked against the wind. She watched the wings of a Tiger Moth shiver as its engine ticked over. The newly camouflaged green and grey biplane looked about as awkward on the ground as it did in the air. She turned to her friend. “Any news of Michael's whereabouts?”
Why
are you so interested in her brother?
