voicesâpilot and copilot?âsomeone asking, "Finished your flight checks?" and then, unmistakably, the
clunk
of the door being shut.
"Welcome to you new folks," I hear a man say, the copilot, I suppose. "Everyone ready to go? Seat belts fastened? I'm afraid strong winds are going to give us more turbulence."
To my right an engine turns over and settles into a plane-vibrating roar. Another off to my left rumbles on. Then the one on the nose. The plane begins to roll forward, and suddenly I'm really scared at what I'm doing. I want to yell that the plane has to be stopped, but I can't seem to get any words out.
I feel us going faster and faster, bumping over rough ground, and I reach around for something to grab on to. And thenâjust when I'm expecting ... what? How will it feel to go up?âthe plane stops.
For a moment I'm sure it's because I've been discovered and someone's going to jerk open the door, yank me up, and shout,
Stowaway!
But instead the motors thunder a hundred times louder, revving up as if they're being tested, and then we're rolling again.
Cautiously I stand to look out. The airfield seems to be rushing past, its uneven surface a blur. Faster and faster we go, the speed pushing me backward, and I reach for something to brace myself against. Faster ... until we're almost skimming the ground, hitting the ridges of the uneven earth ... faster...
A bad jolt throws me off balance, and though I grab at the sink and door handle to catch myself, I'm thrown to the floor. Then, as I huddle half wedged between the toilet and the wall, I feel the plane angle up. The bumping stops. I realize ... we're in the air!
An instant later the floor tilts sideways under me, and I hear someone call above the plane's noise, "Look! You can see the reservoir."
I pull myself to my feet but get only the barest glimpse out before a sudden drop throws me off balance again. The lavatory door cracks openâI must have unlatched it when I fellâand I hear someone groan, "Oooooh."
I reach out to pull the door closed, but another dip in our flight makes it swing wider open. A smell I only half noticed beforeâoil and exhaust and maybe old body sweatâseems to hover and then settle in a cloud around my head.
Now the plane hits that turbulence the copilot mentioned and commences really bouncing. Buffeted side to side, it bucks in sudden drops and rises.
"Talk about air pockets," someone says.
"Be glad we're not sitting in the rear," a man answers. "When it's rough here under the wings, the tail's worse."
We drop again, and this time my stomach goes halfway to my throat.
Someone calls, "Anybody got an airsick cup?"
Oh no! Why did he have to make me think about that?
The next several minutesâthey seem like hoursâare agony. The oil stink smothers me, the hot air is suffocating, my stomach is churning around and around....Please ... I can't let myself throw up. I can't. I can't....
"Where's those airsick cups?" a voice shouts, and through the swinging lavatory door I see a man lurching toward me.
Â
The copilot puts me in a backseat. He orders, "You just stay here, Miss Donnough," in a voice so cold and hard I'm afraid to even raise the window shade.
A few minutes later I feel the plane tilt to one side as we circle around, and I understand I am not going to El Paso or anywhere else special today. I'm only going back where I started from.
Chapter 11
T HE TRI-MOTOR TOUCHES down just long enough to drop me offâand I get the distinct impression the captain would have dropped me from a window if he'd thought he could have gotten away with it. As it is, he doesn't cut the Tri-Motor's engines when he stops on the airport ramp, and they throw a fine spray of oil over me as I scramble out.
I expect Grif to be furious, but when I see how drawn his face is I realize he is too worried for anger.
"I'm really sorry, Grif. I was so disappointed about my ride with Dad, andâ"
"Not now," he
clunk
of the door being shut.
"Welcome to you new folks," I hear a man say, the copilot, I suppose. "Everyone ready to go? Seat belts fastened? I'm afraid strong winds are going to give us more turbulence."
To my right an engine turns over and settles into a plane-vibrating roar. Another off to my left rumbles on. Then the one on the nose. The plane begins to roll forward, and suddenly I'm really scared at what I'm doing. I want to yell that the plane has to be stopped, but I can't seem to get any words out.
I feel us going faster and faster, bumping over rough ground, and I reach around for something to grab on to. And thenâjust when I'm expecting ... what? How will it feel to go up?âthe plane stops.
For a moment I'm sure it's because I've been discovered and someone's going to jerk open the door, yank me up, and shout,
Stowaway!
But instead the motors thunder a hundred times louder, revving up as if they're being tested, and then we're rolling again.
Cautiously I stand to look out. The airfield seems to be rushing past, its uneven surface a blur. Faster and faster we go, the speed pushing me backward, and I reach for something to brace myself against. Faster ... until we're almost skimming the ground, hitting the ridges of the uneven earth ... faster...
A bad jolt throws me off balance, and though I grab at the sink and door handle to catch myself, I'm thrown to the floor. Then, as I huddle half wedged between the toilet and the wall, I feel the plane angle up. The bumping stops. I realize ... we're in the air!
An instant later the floor tilts sideways under me, and I hear someone call above the plane's noise, "Look! You can see the reservoir."
I pull myself to my feet but get only the barest glimpse out before a sudden drop throws me off balance again. The lavatory door cracks openâI must have unlatched it when I fellâand I hear someone groan, "Oooooh."
I reach out to pull the door closed, but another dip in our flight makes it swing wider open. A smell I only half noticed beforeâoil and exhaust and maybe old body sweatâseems to hover and then settle in a cloud around my head.
Now the plane hits that turbulence the copilot mentioned and commences really bouncing. Buffeted side to side, it bucks in sudden drops and rises.
"Talk about air pockets," someone says.
"Be glad we're not sitting in the rear," a man answers. "When it's rough here under the wings, the tail's worse."
We drop again, and this time my stomach goes halfway to my throat.
Someone calls, "Anybody got an airsick cup?"
Oh no! Why did he have to make me think about that?
The next several minutesâthey seem like hoursâare agony. The oil stink smothers me, the hot air is suffocating, my stomach is churning around and around....Please ... I can't let myself throw up. I can't. I can't....
"Where's those airsick cups?" a voice shouts, and through the swinging lavatory door I see a man lurching toward me.
Â
The copilot puts me in a backseat. He orders, "You just stay here, Miss Donnough," in a voice so cold and hard I'm afraid to even raise the window shade.
A few minutes later I feel the plane tilt to one side as we circle around, and I understand I am not going to El Paso or anywhere else special today. I'm only going back where I started from.
Chapter 11
T HE TRI-MOTOR TOUCHES down just long enough to drop me offâand I get the distinct impression the captain would have dropped me from a window if he'd thought he could have gotten away with it. As it is, he doesn't cut the Tri-Motor's engines when he stops on the airport ramp, and they throw a fine spray of oil over me as I scramble out.
I expect Grif to be furious, but when I see how drawn his face is I realize he is too worried for anger.
"I'm really sorry, Grif. I was so disappointed about my ride with Dad, andâ"
"Not now," he
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