Read Online Airfield by Jeanette Ingold - Free Book Online Page B

let me share her boardinghouse room until her own house is ready. I could sleep on the floor.
    And I do actually get as far as the telephone in the tourist court office.
    "Operator," I say, stretching on tiptoe to talk into the mouthpiece, "I'd like to place a long-distance call to Dallas." I give her the number of the insurance office where Fanny's got a temporary job. "And please let me know the charges."
    It rings, and then Fanny herself answers, surprised to be hearing from me.
    "Beatty, is something wrong?"
    "I ... yes...," I begin. And then I can't go further. "No, Aunt Fanny. I just was going to write a thank-you note for my birthday watch and decided to call instead."
    "It's an expensive way to say thank you, Beatty. But you're welcome."
    I replace the receiver carefully and count out my pocket money while waiting for the operator to ring back with what I owe.
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    Dad finds out what I did when he gets his June 30 paycheck and sees he's been docked the cost of the fuel it took to return me to Muddy Springs. The next day he deadheads down from New York—comes all this way as a nonrevenue passenger on another pilot's flight—just to talk to me face-to-face.
    "You were a fool, Beatty," he says, "taking a risk like you did, causing a plane to divert from its flight plan. Didn't you think how your actions might be dangerous to you and everyone on the plane?"
    Dad gets more upset as he talks, his face becoming ruddy and his eyes glistening with held-in anger. "Flying's not some sport that always turns out right.
    "And look what you did to Grif. He's got a hard-enough job being everything from radioman to dispatcher to ticket agent without you bringing his boss down on him."
    Grif raises and drops his hands as though to say maybe things aren't quite as bad as Dad's making them out.
    "Dad," I say, "Grif knows I'm sorry."
    "Get your things packed, Beatty. I'm going to call Fanny and Maud and see if they can't work something out between them."
    "You want me to leave Muddy Springs? Dad, I don't want to go."
    But he's already walking to the tourist court office.
    "Dad, wait ... Grif ... Clo?"
    I grope for ideas, only coming up with a single, sorry one I realize isn't likely to be accepted—but I offer it anyway.
    "Grif, Moss says he's not helping you so much now that Kenzie has him doing mechanic stuff. If I promise to do only what you tell me, will you let me take his place? I'll do any kind of work ... I'd like to make up for the trouble I've caused you."
    Poor Grif: I can hear how it pains him to answer, "Beatty, I'm sorry."
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    I go to bed listening to the murmurs of Grif and Clo, murmurs still going on when I wake up in the middle of the night.
    Of course, I was asking way too much.
    Early the next morning, though, it's Grif who calls, "Some fried eggs, Beatty?"
    "Where's Clo?" I ask.
    "I let her sleep."
    I'm squeezing us orange juice when he says, "About your idea. You've got to understand how important this airline job is to your aunt and me. If anything else goes wrong, whether it's my fault or not..."
    "It's OK, Grif," I tell him. "I do understand."
    "So, if I let you help out—which I can't unless my division manager at the airline says so—then..."
    "But I thought..."
Is he saying what I think he is?
"Grif, you're considering it? You'd take that chance for me?"
    "No, Beatty," he answers, "probably not. But I would for Clo, and it's what she's asked."
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    Later on I try to thank my aunt, but it's so hard I wind up offering a joke. "Clo, are you forgetting that the easy part of taking care of me is being able to send me on?"
    She says, "It's easy only as long as you want to go."
    ***
    Dad washes his hands of the whole decision.
    "I told you only fools take unneeded risks, and here you're taking one with Grif's job. But I guess you're your mother's daughter."
    "What do you mean by that?"
    Clo steps between me and him, the quick temper she never shows for herself now flaring up. "And Beatty's