“I’m glad you’re coming with us.” Miri never thought she’d say that, but there was something comforting about having Fern sitting next to her, her skinny little legs swinging up and down, her cowboy bunny clutched against her chest. She liked having someone to watch over, someone who needed her to be strong.
“Did you know Roy Rogers has a penis but Roy Rabbit doesn’t have one, even though he’s a boy bunny?”
“Yes, I know.”
“I told you, right?”
“About a hundred times.”
Fern said, “I flew one time when I was little, all the way to Birmingham, where my grandma lived. I got to sit on her hospital bed. Then she died. I didn’t see her dead. Only sleeping.” She was quiet for a minute, then she popped back up. “Do you know this song?”
She twisted her hands upside down, making goggles for her eyes with her thumb and second finger. She started to sing.
Into the air, Junior Birdman
Into the air upside down
Into the air, Junior Birdman
Keep your noses off the ground.
“Where’d you learn that?” Miri asked.
“Natalie learned it at summer camp and taught it to me.”
By the time Miri figured out how to make the mask with her hands, the plane was on the move, picking up speed. Faster, faster, faster, until they were airborne. Into the air, Junior Birdman. They were flying. She was flying. She thought it would feel different, more like the ride at the amusement park that pins you against the wall with centrifugal force. That ride was both thrilling and terrifying but so was this one. Once they’d leveled off she pretended she was on a train, except when she looked out the window all she saw was sky with a bank of fluffy clouds under the plane. Somewhere there’s heaven, she sang to herself. Because if there was a heaven, wouldn’t this be it? Separated from earth by white fluffy clouds. She half expected to see angels wearing flowing white gowns playing harps. She half expected to see Penny, tapping on the window of the plane to get her attention. If only she believed in heaven.
“What?” Fern asked.
“Nothing. I was just singing to myself.”
“What song?”
“Just some song I know.”
“Teach it to me.”
Somewhere there’s music
How faint the tune
Somewhere there’s heaven
How high the moon
“How high is the moon?”
“Pretty high.”
“How do you know you can hear music there?”
“Because you can always hear music.”
“That’s good. Isn’t that good?”
“Yes, it’s very good.”
—
IT WAS a long trip. First they landed in Chicago, where they changed planes. Between Chicago and Los Angeles a fancy lunch was served on a tray. Miri couldn’t imagine how they managed to cook steak and French fries on a plane. The Parker House roll came with a pat of butter stamped TWA. She had never seen such tiny salt and pepper shakers. She thought about sneaking them into her bag but didn’t want to set a bad example for Fern. For dessert there was ice cream with a chocolate chip cookie.
After lunch the stewardess handed out decks of cards. Miri and Fern played War until Fern’s eyes closed. Miri covered her with a blanket and smoothed her hair away from her face. She was reminded of babysitting Penny and Betsy. But thinking of them made her too sad. She tried to read—Rusty had given her a copy of The Member of the Wedding, about a girl called Frankie who felt she didn’t belong anywhere in the world. She wasn’t sure if Rusty thought it would appeal to her because they were setting out for the unknown, because Rusty was marrying Dr. O or just because it was a good book. But she couldn’t concentrate. She caught herself drifting off and shook her sleepiness away. She would not allow herself to sleep while she was flying, though when she’d gone to the restroom she’d passed Rusty and Dr. O, both dozing, and Irene and Ben, both asleep with their mouths partly open.
Before they landed in Los Angeles, the stewardess suggested they reset their watches to Pacific Time, which was three hours earlier than in New Jersey. They changed to a smaller plane for the short flight to Las Vegas. The stewardess handed out copies of the Las Vegas Sun as they boarded. Miri took one, and as soon as she was seated with her seat belt fastened, she thumbed through it. She stopped when she came to an intriguing headline:
Las Vegas Sun
MCCARTHY LOSES FACE IN VERBAL FIRE
JUNE 30—What was perhaps the most drama-packed and best-attended political meeting ever held in Nevada broke up in a scene of bedlam last night at War Memorial hall after the audience had listened to Sen. Joseph McCarthy of Wisconsin, who had purportedly come here to speak on behalf of Sen. George W. Malone, now seeking re-election.
McCarthy in his typical wild swinging fashion, with no regard for facts but with a hold on his audience that is frightening, called Sun publisher Hank Greenspun “an ex-convict” and “an admitted Communist, publisher of the Las Vegas ‘Daily Worker.’?”