Excerpt

But now it had all started to come together. That last landing had been extra good, she judged as she weaved a serpentine path through the grass toward the south end of the strip in preparation for another takeoff.

"Hold it right here," he told her unfastening his safety belt.

Braking to a stop, she frowned with curiosity as he opened the upper and lower sections of the door and climbed out. As he nonchalantly refastened the belt over the seat-cushionnot looking at hercuriosity became perplexity.

"Think I'll have a smoke," he told her with ornate calmness. "Make three landings and pick me up."

Realization was like a slap in the face. She suddenly felt unable to draw a deep breath. Her mouth opened but no sound came.

He stood for a moment with the breeze from the propeller whipping his hair and shirt. "Remember, it's going to climb faster and glide further without me in there."

With that, he closed the door and window. As he turned and walked away, she was seized with a loneliness like she'd never known before and at the same time an overwhelming anticipation. Looking forward she saw the whole windshield and the whole instrument panel.

Can this be me? she asked herself. Am I really doing this? She looked at her hand holding the control stick. The feel was the same. The movement of the rudder bars under her feet was familiar. Her eyes scanned the interior. Each item, taken separately, seemed correct and in place. Yet everything had changed so drasticallyso suddenly.

She looked entreatingly at her instructor strolling away and yearned to call him backtell him she wasn't ready. Not yet. But on the other hand, she wanted desperately to take this next step and be convinced of her own abilityto become the pilot who lived, up to this point, only in her imagination.

Experimentally she pushed forward on the throttleheard the engine respond and saw the tachometer change. The airplane remained motionless, however. One of the little wheels had found a depression in the sod so she continued to advance the throttle with, deliberate care, until she felt movement. Then she slowed the engine until a steady rate of travel was achieved. Surprisingly, the craft's behavior, under her control, seemed hardly changed by his absence. Her right and left pedal applications produced the same effect as before in steering the zigzag path needed to compensate for the lack of vision straight ahead.

At the end of the runway, near the fence, she turned off to the left into the space designated as the "run-up area". Here she depressed the right rudder bar fully and, with an extra surge of power from the engine, swung the tail of the airplane so that she faced crossways to the strip. As she progressed through the sequence of preflight checks, her confidence increased. Fuel: on, carburetor heat: off, oil pressure: between thirty and forty, oil temperature: above seventy-five, gas quantity: alright (the indicator rod, in front of the windshield, protruded from the cap about four inches).

Heels hard on the brakes, she set the engine speed at the recommended nineteen-hundred revolutions per minute and positioned the magneto switch to settings marked R, BOTH, L. BOTH while noting that the decrease on the tachometer was less than one-hundred. Application of carburetor heat caused even less change. Satisfied, she brought the engine speed to idle.

The trim setting required a moment of deliberation. Let's see, she instructed herself. Without him in here, the weight in front is less so I should have it more "nose-down" than usual.

Control freedom was verified by moving the stick in a full circle and alternately pressing the rudder bars.

Have I forgotten anything? she said to herself.

A last look around was needed for assurance, but then she felt the trembling start in her arms and legs. "Don't th...think about it!" The self-inflicted scolding failed to calm her. With a sigh of resignation, she continued with the final preparations.

Across the runway from her position, the windsock hung limp on it's mast confirming that wind-direction was not a factor to be considered. Dutifully she scanned the skies for other airplanes (which were never there) and then, with great trepidation, eased forward on the throttle.

The Cub rolled onto the strip and, seemingly having a mind of its own, aligned itself for takeoff. Katie quickly retarded the throttle and braked to a halt. Her teeth had started to chatter.

"D. ..d.. damn!" she said aloud thinking she might get sick. Then she saw him through the left side arc of the propeller, standing off the runway halfway down its length. He ought to know if I can do it or not. She studied his posture for signs of concern. There didn't appear to be any. He stood watching, his weight over one leg, one hand in a pocket, the other holding a cigarette.

He must be crazy to trust me with his airplane. Her jaw muscles hardened. "Well God-dam...dammit!" she screamed aloud. "Either I'm either a p...pil...pilot or I ain't!" She opened the throttle and released the brakes before she could change her mind.

The engine's roar seemed more pronounced. This startled her so that she was slow to apply adequate right rudder to counter the airplane's tendency to veer left. Then she corrected with too much pressure so that the fat little tires described parallel S's in the grass before she had full control. Forward stick brought the tail up and, unexpectedly, she was flying.

The craft rose at a rate that made her gasp. A quick glance at the indicator confirmed airspeed in excess of fifty miles per hour, but the long front section appeared to be pitched up at an astonishing angle. She quickly pushed the stick forward and, with the other hand, cranked the trim control to relieve the pressure. This brought about a more acceptable climb attitude to Katie's profound relief.

As she relaxed back in the seat, awareness struck her like a thunderbolt. "Wow!" she yelled. "Wow!" She burst into hysterical, shrieking laughter, giving herself over entirely to exhilaration and release. Tears streamed down her face. Joyfully she rocked the long wings from side to side. "Hey!" she shouted to the world below. "Look at me! L...look at m...me! I'm flying!"

1