Cynthia Cartier - Wings

As she sat there thinking about Louise’s situation and thinking what she could say to her, Liddy realized it probably wasn’t true. Louise’s mind maybe never cleared. She was juggling two great loves and couldn’t have both at the same time, at least not for now.

“We’re over halfway through Louie, and there’s lots of talk we’re going to be commissioned any time. We’ll have our wings and careers.”

“I pray it happens, Liddy. I pray it happens.”

Liddy and Louise sat out past curfew, risking a demerit and told each other their secrets. Liddy learned that Louise had been married to a policeman who ran off with his best friend’s wife. She hadn’t heard from him in over a year and had submitted papers for a divorce.

Liddy told Louise about Jack and growing up in Holly Grove and about Crik and the show. Liddy’s intuition had always told her who she could trust. When she heard herself telling Louise about meeting Major Reid Trent on the train, and how she had never been so irritated by her feelings for a man, she knew her intuition could be trusted.

Liddy had never completely emptied out her heart. She knew it wasn’t something that should be done to just anyone. She loved and cared for many people, but most of them would leak a secret without any ill intention, they just couldn’t help it. Louise, she found, was the kind of person who comes along maybe once in a lifetime. Someone you know accepts everything about you and loves you anyway, someone who will keep your heart carefully guarded forever, someone you respect and would follow into battle.

As time went on, Liddy told her other baymates about losing her mother when she was twelve, flying the show and what her life had been like before the WASP. The Major however, remained a topic she didn’t discuss—she and Louise shared that alone.

Louise pulled out the pictures of Bonnie and Tommy, and their drawings, and hung them up in her locker. It took a few days before the other women noticed them, but when they did, they were full of questions and Louise answered the ones she wanted to.

Liddy had never been knit with a girlfriend, but she had never known any fly gals either. She ran with some of the girls back home, but the friendships had always been more of acquaintances as neither side really understood the other. Being at Avenger with these women had made Liddy feel a sort of ordinariness that she treasured. An oddity among many is no longer all that odd. These ladies had become not only friends, but sisters, sister-friends, and to them she was knit for life.

Army checkrides were like the opening night of a Broadway play. The butterflies arrived in the morning. When the curtain went up, you gave it everything you had until the last line. If the reviews were good, you got to go back on stage every night. If not, you left the theatre, and the curtain came down for good.

The class stood at attention and Major Trent approached the trainees. When he was posted in front of the class, it always meant a fork in the road. And his presence always stirred up things in Liddy that were manageable when he was out of sight. A visit from Doubt would soon follow, bringing all kinds of questions, questions she didn’t want to think about.

“Class, you will be Army checked today for spot landings. Your Army check-officers and flight times are posted on the boards. You will make a three point landing. A line has been marked on the auxiliary field. To S your ride you will roll to the line, and not past it. You will be graded on the landing and your final position.”

This would be the first time any of the class had done spot landings or been up with an Army pilot, instead of their civilian instructors. To add to the pressure, Texas winds had decided to kick up some thick dust, and heat waves wobbled across the horizon. When Trent dismissed the women, they checked the boards for their flight time and the Army pilot they would go up with. Lewis Gant was with his trainees every step of the way.

The baymates found a spot on the short wall that bordered the runway and watched the rides come in. Marina’s landing teased the runway. The plane floated slightly wing right then left. The gals drew in their breaths and held them until they saw the wheels touch-down simultaneously, and she glided into the zone.

Louise landed smoothly—the belly of the plane straddling the line. Gant was waiting when she jumped down from the plane. She grabbed him to join her in her celebratory jig. He ducked away, but Louise continued to relive the landing as she walked with Gant back to the benches. He tried to ignore her enthusiasm.

Liddy came in for her landing, she touched down smoothly, rolled gently toward the line and stopped. Liddy and the Army check pilot hopped out. Gant was close behind as they walked up to the mark where the wheels rested on the strip painted on the runway. The Army Officer and Gant stood there shaking their heads and then turned to walk back to the flight line, but Gant stopped and looked back—he couldn’t believe it.

It was time for Bet’s go. She walked over and stood in front of Liddy, took off her friend’s flight cap and rubbed the top of her matted hair with both of her hands and said, “For luck.”

Gant walked with Bet out to the plane and before he turned her over to the Army Officer he said, “All right, Bailey, don’t make me look like an idiot up there. You get it right. All three of those little wheels hit the ground at the same time, you got that? Not two, you hear me. And then you get to that line and no further. And watch that boulder of a foot you have or you’ll spin right past it.”

“You’re making me nervous, and I think I have to pee.”

“If you’re not sure, you don’t have to. Get a hold of yourself, Bailey.”

Bet’s shaking hands made it impossible to tighten the chute strapped over her shoulders. Gant impatiently cinched and checked it for her.

“There,” he said and patted the top of her head like she was a puppy.

“Thanks.”

“Okay, okay, now you keep it together up there.”

Bet followed the Army pilot to the plane. She wasn’t in a hurry when she climbed up on the wing and lowered herself into the cockpit. And by the time she was geared and strapped, she was a wreck. Not an ounce of stillness was in her, and her stomach began to cramp.

The ride was a series of blunders, and when the tower cleared her for landing, she couldn’t find a smooth spot in the stick or rudder. The plane swayed precariously as its belly neared the runway. The wheels hit a two point landing and then bounced back up. One wheel touched down and then all three up again. Two down, then three hit the mat and stayed there.

“Going too fast, you’re going too fast,” Bet told herself. She panicked and broke too hard. The plane jerked abruptly to a stop. The nose tipped forward and teetered as if it was toying with executing a full bow and then the tail slammed back down. The plane rested, yards from the intended mark.

Bet hoisted herself out of the cockpit and dragged in, while Gant prodded her along, “It’s one U Bailey, get over it. You won’t get another one, do you hear me?”

The days that followed had all of the trainees working hard to make strides in their weak areas and they all had at least one. The base canteen was empty, except for Liddy. She had her text books open in front of her and she sipped on a Coke as she pictured Jack chugging on a bottle of his own. She had read letters from Daniel who had enlisted and would be joining the AAF at the end of July, and one from Crik and Jack that went something like, Jack wants to know this, and Jack wants to know that. Take care of yourself, Love Crik and Jack. She also, finally, received a letter from Rowby. Since she found out where he was in basic, she had written him twice. He was on a ship now or maybe off already, and this was the first she had heard from him. Nothing in the letter sounded like Rowby, but it was hard to tell in the one line:

The postmark read July twenty-third and Liddy didn’t hear from him after that. She didn’t write anymore either, but she was still sure he was going to be fine.

She was working a navigation calculation for the third time when she saw the Major enter through the front door, and she snapped the lead of her pencil. She didn’t look away before he looked back and walked toward her. Liddy dropped her head and pretended to read.

“Trainee, Hall.”

She looked up into that face and braced herself.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a gentleness that confused her.

“I’m playing Tiddlywinks.” Trent grinned, and Liddy saw a hint of the twinkle that she was beginning to think she’d only imagined. “I’m not breaking any rules or regulations, am I?”

He grabbed the back of the chair across the table, leaned forward and looked steady at her. Liddy felt challenged to return the gaze and she did. “No, Hall, Tiddlywinks is an approved activity, I think.”

His grin broadened into that smirk, and a familiar weakness ran under Liddy’s skin. She wanted to say, ‘Hi, I remember you. We met on a train once.’

“Great check the other day.”

“Thanks.” Liddy’s hands were shaking so she hid them on her lap under the table.

“Gant’s still bragging about it.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“He claims you’ll be training men for combat.”

“Why not flying combat?”

Trent looked at her a little sideways and shook his head. “Staying in one piece isn’t a priority for you, is it Liddy Hall?”