Soaring Home

Jack brought the plane down fifteen minutes later, after an effortless flight. Darcy met him at planeside, calculations in hand. “Now that the plane is running, can we resume lessons?”


“Not yet.” He headed straight for Simmons. “I thought I smelled a little extra oil in the exhaust.”

Darcy waited until Simmons crawled up to check the motor.

“I thought it ran brilliantly,” she said as Jack wiped lubricating oil off his face. “You did some terrific maneuvers.”

“Pretty good.” He tossed the rag aside. “Let’s look over those calculations now.”

Darcy waited an eternity while he verified her mathematics.

He pointed to the paper. “This figure is off by one degree.”

“It’s just one.”

“One degree at the beginning of a long-distance flight translates to miles off target at the end. You could start out aiming for France and end up over water and out of fuel. Do it again and don’t rush this time.”

The blunt criticism stung, but Darcy bit back her temper. “Once I get it correct, may I have a flight lesson?”

“That will depend on the plane.”

That, or any of a dozen other excuses.



Over the following weeks, Jack used them all. Weather, engine, wind, field conditions. Some problem always kept her grounded and perfecting her navigation skills on paper.

Still, when Jack guided Darcy’s hand on the sextant, her heart beat a little harder. When he directed her gaze to the proper star, she barely breathed. Her frustrations vanished under his touch.



“This morning looks good,” he said early in March, after most of the snow had melted and the nighttime frost had firmed the ground.

“Good for what?”

“Flying, what else?”

The rush of excitement made her miss part of his instructions.

“…that means we need to go through the controls first. This plane uses a wheel to control both the elevator and ailerons.”

Darcy concentrated as he showed her how the controls worked in tandem. Once again their hands worked side-by-side as he demonstrated the movement of the rudder and ailerons. She thrilled to feel him moving the wheel, jumped when the rudder bar shifted, and longed for the side-by-side cockpit they’d shared in Buffalo.

“If you make a wrong move I can correct it,” he said, “but the engines are too loud for us to talk. You must follow my preflight instructions exactly. No deviation. I only want you doing turns. No elevator. That means no moving the wheel forward or back, understand?”

She shook off a twinge of irritation. She could do more. She’d already done ascents and descents, but now was not the time to point that out. Patience. “Yes, of course.”

“It’s easy to promise on the ground, but everything changes when you’re in the air. Wind currents can grab a plane and throw it up or down. I’ll handle any sudden shifts. I need you to trust me. Do not attempt to make corrections yourself.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, but the man was being ridiculously overcautious. “Nothing is going to happen.”

“You don’t know that. I’ve seen students clutch onto the wheel like a life preserver or lose their nerve. I’ve seen them send the plane into a spin or sideslip. Some have gotten badly injured or died. If you need to catch your balance, grab the sides of the cockpit, not the wheel.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted him.

“This is serious, Darcy.”

She tried to be serious, but she wanted to giggle. He was acting just like her father. “I know. I promise.” She reached for her goggles.

He cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

“What is it?”

“You’re forgetting something.” He waited until she figured it out.

“The preflight check? I thought maybe you’d already done it.”

“Never get in a plane you haven’t personally checked,” he said. “Make it part of your routine, like washing your face in the morning.”

“Or saying grace before meals.”

He scowled. “Right.”

How she wished Jack didn’t put up that wall every time she mentioned God or church. It created a sore spot that refused to heal.

After checking the plane thoroughly, they took off. Darcy had no time to revel in the flow of air over her face or the scene below. She followed Jack’s instructions to the letter. One wrong move, and he’d stop the lessons. It took tremendous mental effort not to touch the wheel during the ascent. For the descent, she sat on her hands. No air currents buffeted the aeroplane, and they landed smoothly.

She swiveled to face him the moment he cut the engines. “How did I do?”

“Good turns,” he said. “Next time we’ll increase the degree of your banks.”

Next time. She had done well enough to fly again. “This afternoon?”

The skies were clear and the winds light.

“We’ll see.”