Authors: Cynthia Lee Cartier
“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.
“Daniel.” Celia batted his hand and smiled as he shrugged and grinned.
Liddy’s body was stiff. Her hands were frozen in an empty clutch and her wrists and thighs ached. She tried to slow her breathing but was distracted from the task when she saw blood dripping down her jacket. Liddy pulled her fingers open against the stick and lifted her arms from her elbows. Pinching the fingers of her gloves between her teeth, she tugged the sweat-soaked leather from her hands and then dropped the pair to her knees where they laid pale and lifeless. She rubbed her impotent paws together until they begin to tingle and burn.
Back at the crowd, Hal and Buck, shotguns posted against their chests, pillared themselves on either side of Celia, and she tended to the line of winners.
Daniel skipped joyously out to the plane. He bounced onto the wing and cheered, “You did it! Can you believe it?”
Liddy lifted her head and turned to Daniel. Her goggles were cracked, her face deeply scratched and pale as paste. An ooze of blood ran from her left cheekbone to her chin. Her expression was unrecognizable to him.
“Liddy, my word. Are you okay?”
She couldn’t get enough air to speak and she reached over and set her hand on his arm. Daniel waited till Liddy shook her head yes and then helped her release her safety strap and carefully take off the cap and goggles. He supported her wobbly weight when she climbed out of the pit. Just as he helped Liddy to the ground, two Sheriff’s cars pulled through a stand of trees and onto the field, flanking the nose and tail of the plane.
Dust puffed from the earth as the rough horde ran to their cars, jumped in and sped away. Sherriff Squim calmly opened the door, stepped out of the car and sauntered over to the plane. He had no interest in any of the gamblers, just Liddy.
The pain didn’t flair up
as long as Liddy laid stone still on the cot. Daniel was in the next cell, sitting on the concrete floor. His back was to the wall, knees up and his face was cradled in his hands—all of the unwanted possibilities had come crashing down.
Sheriff Squim walked down the hall and unlocked both cell gates, said nothing and left. The two jailbirds exchanged queries. Liddy rolled from the cot, left her cell and looked back at Daniel who hadn’t moved.
“You coming?”
Outside the office Liddy climbed into Crik’s truck and Daniel followed. Crik’s arms wrapped the steering wheel as he looked straight ahead and asked, “So, good day?”
“Had better,” Liddy answered.
“Tell me about it.”
“Scariest damn thing I’ve ever done.”
“How’d the Jenny do?”
“I landed her, but she’s sure to be pretty banged. I’m sorry, I really am sorry, Crik.”
Crik leaned back and took an appraisal of Liddy. “Not all that got wrecked looks like.”
“Why did Squim let us go?” Liddy asked Crik.
Crik slid his hand into his jacket, pulled out a Western Union and presented it to Liddy. “Russell Talbot pulled up with it right after you left this mornin’.”
Liddy opened up the fold and moved her eyes over the words: ‘AVIATION CADET EXAMINATION SUCCESSFUL PD ADVISE BY RETURN WIRE IF INTERESTED IN OPENING NINE MAY CLASS WASP TRAINING PD IF SO FURTHER PAPERS WILL BE SENT FOR COMPLETION SIGNED COCHRAN= ARNOLD COMMANDING GENERAL AAF.’
A tightness knotted high behind her chest bone as she read the telegram again. Liddy folded it back to its crease and looked at her uncle.
“Squim said he’d rather see you get on a train than have you loose, or even locked-up in his county anymore. ‘Let her be the Army’s problem,’ he said. Don’t think he was too sure what he’d charge you with anyway. And without the perpetrator he could hardly hold the accomplice.” Crik shot a look at Daniel who stared blankly out the windshield, lost in his distress. Crik picked up the envelope that was balanced on his knee and handed it to Liddy. “Celia asked me to give you this.”
Liddy thumbed the bills. “I’ll pay for the damage to the Jenny and—”
“Look, honey…” Crik squeezed Liddy’s hand. “…I’ve done my best to do for you and Jack, but it hasn’t been what I’da liked. I think you showed yourself a fool today with that stunt, but it’s done. Let’s consider what was taken out of the Jenny my contribution, okay.” He paused and Liddy saw his eyes fill with tears before he continued, “But you promise me, you go off and do this Army thing, you don’t go makin’ stupid. You’re a good pilot, and you can do better stuff than just about anybody, but some things are just too much. You hear me?”
Liddy wrapped her arms around Crik’s neck and squeezed. “I hear you, and I promise.”
The bridge affair was added to the book of tales and no one told it better than Crik. Liddy told Jack about it in bits, and she wasn’t sure if he believed her or thought she had learned to weave a good yarn.
In the weeks that followed, Liddy’s body healed, but she was left with a reminder of her deed in a two inch scar that underscored her left cheekbone. She spent the time before she had to report to the WASP base in Texas preparing to leave the only world she’d ever known. She made the rounds with her share of the bridge venture, beginning with the hospital, and then she made good on her account with Jerry at the airfield. At Tully’s she stocked-up on some familiars for Jack and was loading them in her car when she caught Rowby’s walk from her side view. He ambled to where she stood and leaned his hip against the driver’s door. “Did ya’ hear, I’m drafted?”
“I heard. Did you hear I’m leaving too, and I got the money to take care of things and for my train ticket?”
“Yeah, I heard about the stunt you pulled. Whole county’s talkin’ ‘bout it,” Rowby bragged, “It’s legend now.”
“Well the government doesn’t pick up my tab you know.”
“You’re a strange bird, Liddy Hall. Don’t know what I see in you. You’re paying to get into this mess and I’d do anything to pay to get out of it.”
“I’m sure you could if you wanted to—your family and all.” Liddy saw something she didn’t recognize in Rowby and tilted her head to study it. “But you don’t really want to, do you? You’re going to be fine, Rowby, just fine.”
He looked down at the ground and rolled some little stones under the tip of his boot.
“I was planning on seeing you at the farewell party tonight. Feels kind of funny to be lumped in with you soldier boys, but May insisted it was for me too. Buck, Harlan and two of the Wilson boys are leaving next week. Are you pulling out with any of them?”
“I don’t know, haven’t talked to ‘em.”
“Well you’ll see them tonight.”
Rowby forced a weak smile and nodded. “Yeah.”
“You’ll be there, right?” Liddy leaned over to catch his eye.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
It was strangely difficult to leave Rowby standing in front of Tully’s that afternoon. His vulnerability was nearer the surface than Liddy had ever seen it, and she saw a kind of surrendered desperation in his eyes that made her feel helpless for him.
She still had the shadow of his face hanging in front of her as she carried Jack’s rations into the hospital. Walking down the hall, she decided she was going to dance a slow one with Rowby Wills that night, maybe more than one. She set the box on the nurse’s desk in front of Ruth. “Don’t let him know you have this. He’ll make a raid and it’ll be gone in a week.”
When Liddy entered Jack’s room he was curled-up asleep on the bed. Liddy sat with him until the room darkened with the setting sun. Although she read the paper to Jack that morning, she felt too empty to leave the room now. She wanted to see his eyes and store up the sound of his voice. Reluctantly, she stood up and moved to his bedside. She smoothed his hair to his head hoping it would awaken him gently. His breaths kept a smooth cadence and he didn’t stir. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Love you, Daddy. I’ll be back when I have wings.” And she left the room.
Jack’s eyes opened as he heard his daughter’s steps fade into the hallway. He had always let Edda do the praying for the family, even after she died. But here in this moment, he buried his face and whispered into his palms and uttered one of many prayers to come, “Please, keep my Liddy safe.”