Cynthia Cartier - Wings

Liddy smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “Well I don’t think it’s gonna last. I don’t expect to see this suit for months once I take it off.” She looked at Crik and tipped her head. “Do I look like Mama, Crik?”

“I think so.”

“You remember what she looks like then?”

“Oh yeah, I remember.”

“How come you’ve never told me that before, that I look like her?”

“No reason. Just didn’t come up.”

Liddy studied his face for a moment. When she saw the moisture rise in his eyes, she kissed him on the cheek and climbed out of the truck. Daniel handed her the suitcase. His cheeks shined where he had been wiping away his tears, and his eyes pooled with the next pour.

“Look after Crik, Danny Boy. Make sure he keeps busy.”

“Alright, I will.” Daniel used the cuff of his flannel shirt to soak up the tears that were blurring his vision. “Liddy, be careful. No crazy stuff.”

“Why, Daniel, have you no confidence in me at all?”

“Sheer confidence, that’s what worries me.”

Liddy didn’t wait for the whistle. She squeezed and kissed the men and turned to board the train. When she hit the second rung of the steps, she stopped for a moment, then took the next two and entered the car without looking back.

Inside the train, Liddy stood at the end of the aisle and looked for the empty seats. She surveyed her choice of traveling companions: an elderly couple, three very proper middle-aged ladies (definitely not) and a petite redhead who was intently reading Wings Over America.

Liddy strolled up the walkway and plopped down across from the unsuspecting fly girl. “Long ride to Sweetwater, should know each other pretty well by then.”

A chewed nub of a fingernail shot up to the woman’s mouth and the nail, what was left of it, clicked between her teeth as she bit at it. She puzzled over Liddy’s omniscience. How did this woman know where she was going?

Liddy motioned to the book and leaned back to take a long look at her traveling mate. Red ringlets bounced like springs on the top of her head. Her tailored suit matched her navy blue eyes that had a cat-like slant. Her skin was cream-ware white and matched her blouse. How patriotic, Liddy mused to herself.

“Oh, of course, the book. For a moment I thought my parents had sent a chaperone after me.” The young lady grinned, relaxed and held out her hand to Liddy. “I’m Betsy Bailey. Bet, call me Bet, okay?”

“Okay, Bet it is.” Liddy rocked Bet’s hand side to side like a swinging hammock. “I’m Liddy Hall.” Liddy slipped out of her jacket and folded it over her arms. “Call me Liddy.”

“Okay.” Bet tilted her head like a confused pup. “You’re kidding.”

“Yes, I’m kidding.”

“How long have you been flying?” Bet scooted her bottom to lean back on the seat and her feet dangled above the floor.

“My dad said I flew out of the pumpkin patch. Thought I was flying the first time he took me up. I’m not really sure when it was actually me in control, I guess.” Liddy smiled at the fact.

“Is he an Army pilot, your dad?”

“No, he was infantry in the first war. Army pilots take a written test—my dad couldn’t.”

Bet’s blue eyes fluttered and she shifted uncomfortably. She picked up the book in her lap and asked, “Ever read it?”

“I can read if that’s what you’re asking?” Liddy said with a tease of sarcasm.

“No, I was just—”

“Changing the subject, I know. Look, everyone that flies in our county, the state maybe, was taught by my father or by someone who learned from him. He was taking up experiments when he was just a kid. He’s jumped off some pretty high places with some strange things strapped to his back. And he’s sat in contraptions that would never be recognized as an airplane today. If someone had an idea, my dad was there to help them test it. I’m proud of him.” Liddy set her suitcase on its side between the two seats, pushing half of it under Bet’s feet, and propped her own on her side.

“Thanks,” Bet smiled and pinched her hands between her knees as she rested her feet on the case.

“Now back to your question, Miss Bailey. It is Miss, isn’t it? You don’t have a hubby and pack of children you’ve run off and left, do you?”

“No, I’m not married.” Bet looked sideways at Liddy. “That was a joke.”

“Yes it was.” Liddy kicked off her shoes and swung her feet under her skirt. “You’re catching on fast, Bailey. Again back to your question. No, the answer is no, I haven’t read…” Liddy grabbed the book from Bet and ran her finger past the title, “… Wings Over America, The Inside Story of American Aviation. All those book ideas about flying, kind of takes the fun out of it.” She tossed the book back to Bet. “So when’d you take to the blue, Bet Bailey?”

“College, just last year. My parents weren’t too keen on the idea.” Bet blew a red curl away from her eye and tucked the book between the seat and the wall. “So I used my clothes allowance to pay for flight time.”

“That’s some clothes allowance. And who needs clothes anyway?” Liddy tossed her jacket and let it fall on the seat.

“Well, I have plenty, but my mother can’t bear the thought of her only daughter wearing anything out of season.”

Bet’s shoulders relaxed as the two women settled into a comfortable rhythm. She was full of questions. So much so, that she’d ask one before Liddy was able to finish responding to the previous two or three. And her questions of Liddy spun into her own experiences and ideas. It was quite a trail of words. She also let Liddy in on a huge collection of observations about the people she knew and the places she’d been. Bet led her on a tour from coast to coast and across three continents. For such a young gal, she had been around.

Liddy’s head began to throb with its need for some rest, and Bet’s energy seemed to have no end. “Sorry, girl, I gotta get some sleep.” Liddy folded her jacket for a pillow and curled up on the seat. “I couldn’t unwind last night.”

“Oh, sure, I’m sorry. I can get carried away. Hey, I can hold your seat, if you want to rest in your sleeping car.”

“No sleeping car, sister, I’m on a budget. And don’t apologize for the chitchat. I love hearing about all the places you’ve been. I haven’t traveled more than two hundred miles from the place I was born.” Liddy’s jaw strained to control a yawn and her eyes were already shut.

It was torture for Bet that she couldn’t ask why someone who had been flying so long hadn’t traveled more than two hundred miles from home, but she let Liddy be, and set about to rearranged her space. Her thoughts had soon moved on, and she grabbed her book, clicked a fingernail between her teeth and read.

The train rocked Liddy into a deep slumber that lasted until late afternoon. When she woke up from her snooze, she and Bet went to the dining car for some supper. Both ordered potato pies and fresh corn off the cob. Liddy watched as Bet inhaled her food, including two glasses of milk and second and third helpings of rolls and butter. She wondered where it was settling in the little gal.

“Hey, I was thinking. I have two bunks in my sleeping berth. Why don’t you take the other one?” Bet slathered butter on a roll like frosting.

“I’m a coach passenger. I don’t want to get kicked off the train.”

“It’s silly to leave it empty. And they’re not going to boot a lady for trying to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling a lady.”

“Besides, my parents paid good money for that car. If I want to have a guest, then I should be able to.”

“Thought you said your parents weren’t too keen on you flying. Why would they pay for a sleeping car so that you can go fly for the Army?”

“The thought of me sleeping amongst strangers where I might be groped in the night…” Bet got a wild eye and ran her hands over her body. “… well, it was just too much for my mother to bear.”

They got to laughing after that and stayed in the dining car talking, while Bet had dessert.

That night Bet snuck Liddy into her sleeping berth. The walls were covered with oak paneling, and two bunks were mounted on the left side of the shoebox-sized space. On the other wall, a white satin robe and two tiny slippers hung from the brass hooks mounted at the bottom of a high shelf. At the end, a little window looked out onto the passing landscape. And that was about it. But it was a bed for the night, and Liddy felt rich.

“You can have the bottom bunk.” Bet tossed her shoulder bag in the corner.

“No, you take it.”

“Really, I’ve been sleeping up here.” Bet stepped on the second ladder rung and flipped herself onto the bed. “My mother has never wanted me to sleep on the top bunk since I was a little Betsy. We’d visit my grandmother’s lake house in the summers and I was always relegated to the bottom shelf.” Bet pushed off her shoes and let them fall near her purse on the floor. “She said I might roll off and split something open.” Bet puffed out her chest and held her fists out in front of her. “The minute I walked into this car, I decided I was going to live on the edge and sleep dangerously.”

As they got undressed and put on their night clothes, the fly girls laughed and gabbed and then slipped into their beds. Yak-yak between the bunks continued until Liddy drifted off. Bet was chatting away when she realized she hadn’t heard her new friend say ‘really’ or ‘u-huh’ in a while. Her curls stretched and bounced when she hung off the side of the bunk to check out the situation. Liddy was sleeping peacefully.

Bet pushed up and flopped back on the mattress but wasn’t tired, so she sprung back up and switched on the wall sconce. She bunched up her pillows behind her head, propped her book open on her bent knees, twirled a ringlet, clicked a nail and read.