February 12, 1956; Saint Valentine’s Day.
On the shores of Oneida Lake, just North of Syracuse, NY.
The Pilot
A weight lifted from his chest as he opened the door of his lakeside mansion. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he sauntered down the steps towards his personal airstrip. He often found that flying endowed him with a sense of freedom quite unlike anything else, but today was something different. Today was something more. Today was special, though that was hardly surprising all things considered.
Today was the day he had finally found the courage to ask out the nice girl at the radio station. He wasn’t really a radio man by trade, it was just another of his many hobbies. No, by trade he was a “business man.” He was a major shareholder in General Electric and a senior manager at the new television plant in the city. Among other things, of course. But that didn’t matter; he had always considered work just something he did for money. Money he used to fund his many hobbies. Those were his real passion. And, of course, the pretty girl at the radio station. He was a responsible man, but he had eccentric tastes and a thirst for adventure. One of his newer passions was flying, something he had picked up during the War and just couldn’t let go of.
Flying. His mind was already in the sky, but his heart was soaring long before that. In fact, his heart took off when that wonderful girl said that she “would be delighted” to go to dinner with him. Maybe his head had been in the clouds at that point too, as he had forgotten to make reservations before he asked her. Reservations at the city’s most prominent steakhouse. On Valentine’s Day. Of course, that didn’t matter for him but it broke his heart to think that he might have inconvenienced another couple and ruined their Valentine’s Day dinner. In fact, it worried him so much that he called the steakhouse’s owner directly and insisted that he would compensate whoever lost their table personally, in cash, entirely out of pocket, and that he would even deliver the reimbursement to the couple himself, with a little extra to show his gratitude.
He hated having to do that, he had always had a particularly strong feeling of guilt when he inconvenienced other people. But it was worth it, for that pretty girl. She really was wonderful. Truth be told, he had his eye on her for a very long time. Yet, somehow, he lacked the courage to act on his feelings for so long. The man was an ace pilot during the War, could speak to hundreds of thousands (probably even millions) of people on syndicated radio, climb Everest, hunt lions in the savannas of Africa, and yet this woman had his heart by the strings. He was ashamed to admit how long he had fancied her. It started the day he first saw her, when a friend of his asked him to speak on the air as a sort of celebrity guest. The show performed well enough that he became a semi-regular on the air, but he had showed up to the station far more frequently than was necessary for these shows. Weekly, sometimes more. All because this woman made his heart race like nothing else. Truthfully, he would marry her today if he didn’t think that would be too forward. She really was incredible.
Hands still in his pockets, he strode out onto the tarmac of his personal airfield. A light rain began to douse his face, and he saw a storm on the horizon. But he didn’t care, he had to fly today. He had to fly now. He opened the door to the hangar that held his de Havilland DH.104 Dove, named The Birkenhead, and specially modified of course. It was a luxury aircraft, favored by executives but he had this model upgraded for his more adventurous flying habits. Nothing extreme, mainly just engine tune-ups to increase the maximum speed and altitude. The Birkenhead had been grounded for a few months; just a few issues, nothing serious. It wouldn’t prevent his flight, it just might make it a bit more… tricky. He smirked as he began his pre-flight checks. This would be an interesting flight.
He spent far less time on his pre-flight than he should have. Truthfully, he didn’t have much time. This was a rather unexpected flight. In fact, he hadn’t know he was going to fly today until he got to the radio station. He had gotten a little insider knowledge from a friend of his that worked for the government and decided that today was a great day to fly. He had to leave immediately, but he had to make it to the radio station first, to see that pretty girl of course. And to ask her out to dinner. He made the “reservations” over the phone as his chauffer raced them back to the mansion. He really did hate inconveniencing people like that, but this was important and he really couldn’t help it under the circumstances. Today was very important.
He settled into the pilot’s seat and took off down the runway. He was flying solo today, since it was on such short notice. It wasn’t exactly common for him to fly solo, mostly because he enjoyed the company, but he had done it enough times that he was relatively comfortable with the whole process. Still, it was a little unnerving. Air traffic control was remarkably quiet today. In fact, it was silent. Not really surprising, under the circumstances. Still, the weather was choppy and he was flying solo, which made the resounding silence of the radio even more unsettling. And yet, not once did doubt ever cross his mind. He had to fly today. He had to fly now.
He climbed higher and higher. Strangely, as he gained more and more altitude, his head seemed to plummet further and further towards the ground. He found himself unable to stop thinking about all the people down there.
His parents, probably enjoying their retirement. He wondered if he would ever see them again. They were in Florida.
That poor couple he had stolen a table from at the steakhouse. He really was sorry.
His staff, hurrying about to complete the errands he had left them with before he took off. He hated to leave them with so much, and on such short notice, but today was important.
His government friend, probably scrambling to put out today’s fires. He smirked.
And of course, that pretty girl from the radio station. He smiled.
He was high in the air now. Higher now than he had ever flown before. Unfortunately, one of the issues that had grounded The Birkenhead was pressurization system. Nothing too serious. The plane wasn’t going to completely depressurize, but it was a little closer than it should have been. Luckily he was in shape, and he had scaled Everest back in ‘53 with some of his British buddies he met during the War, so he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the sensations that accompanied high altitude. Still, this was a rather herculean task. But he had to fly today. He had to fly now. Today was important.
The storm was growing closer now. Or, maybe, he was growing closer. Probably a bit of both he thought. Oh well. He had to fly today. He had to fly now. Today was important.
The air got choppier, and thinner, and yet.. it was quieter. It wasn’t that he just didn’t hear it, because he was really trying to hear the storm brewing outside. It was as if God Himself had muted out all the sounds in the universe, save for the beating of his heart. His heart was racing. She really was incredible. He saw the light to the radio blink on, but didn’t hear anything come through. He wondered if it was his friend from the government, or maybe air traffic control finally noticed him. It probably wasn’t another pilot. Not today. Today was important.
Then he saw it, on the horizon. The black clouds of the storm made it difficult to see, but his eyes seemed to know exactly where to go. In fact, now that he thought about it, it seemed a little strange that he knew where to go in the first place. Maybe God was doing a little more than simply quiet out his surroundings. But he definitely saw it.
A Tupolev Tu-4.
An untrained eye may have thought that it was a Boeing B-29 Superfortress, but he knew better. He was a pilot in the Army during the War. He had never flown a Superfortress, but he had seen them. He had always preferred smaller craft. They were more nimble. The Tupolev didn’t have an escort, probably because it was relying on stealth. They thought that the storm would provide adequate cover. They weren’t entirely wrong. But he was flying today. He was flying now. Today was important.
Our Father who art in heaven,
He reached into his shirt.
hallowed be thy name.
He pulled out the old, golden cross he wore around his neck.
Thy kingdom come.
His father had given it to him.
Thy will be done
He had hoped to one day give it to his own son.
on earth as it is in heaven.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
Give us this day our daily bread,
He was having a hard time breathing now; Everest was almost three years ago.
and forgive us our trespasses,
He really was sorry for that poor couple…
as we forgive those who trespass against us,
Maybe his gift would make up for it.
and lead us not into temptation,
Maybe it wasn’t just the thin air that made it hard to breath.
but deliver us from evil.
The Tupolev was shooting at him now.
For thine is the kingdom and the power, and the glory,
But he had to fly today; he had to fly now.
forever and ever.
She really was incredible.
Amen.
Today was important. He had flown today. He wasn’t flying now.
A dozen people died in a plane crash that day. There were hundreds of thousands of survivors.
The Estate
A knock at the door. The attorney answered. It was a courier, one of the regulars. He had a letter, special delivery. Urgent.
It was from one of his regular clients. A young, wealthy man. Didn’t hear from him much, but that meant he stayed out of trouble. He was a nice young man. Mostly, he had just written the young man’s will. It was a bit odd, writing a will for a man so young. Then again, the young man always had a penchant for the dangerous.
From what he had heard, the young man was a Colonel in the Army before he had returned to civilian life. Apparently he was an ace pilot during the War. But civilian life didn’t exactly suit the young man, and apparently he engaged in a number of dangerous hobbies. The man never left behind his love of flying, but he also picked up a love of big game hunting. Lions, even. He had heared through the grapevine that the young man was even part of an expedition to the summit of Mount Everest, back in ‘53. There were even rumors that he sometimes flew down South to participate in those new bootlegger races.
He might have been an adventurous young man, but apparently he was responsible. He had a will drawn up before he ever started going on his wild adventures, and the attorney was the man he had hired to do the job.
He opened the letter. It was hand-written, and hastily so. It looked like there might have even been a few rain drops on the paper, as if it had been written outside. It was raining today, and yet the paper wasn’t nearly as wet as it should have been if it had been written outside in the rain. Peculiar, but not exactly legally significant.
As he read the letter, the attorney began to understand that it was a modification to the young man’s will. Everything seemed to be in order, except he didn’t recognize the name that the young man’s estate was to be bequeathed to in the event of the man’s death.
Whoever she was, she was a very lucky girl. The attorney only hoped that the young man knew what he was doing. He would have known if the man was getting married, and no such paperwork had come across his desk.
He filed the necessary paperwork for the modification of the young man’s will. Everything was in order.
Hours later, as the attorney relaxed at his home, he turned on the news. As he heard the report, his jaw dropped. He had no idea.
Maybe it wasn’t rain that had stained that letter.
The Couple
Today was supposed to be special. They had made reservations at their favorite steakhouse. It was the nicest place in town, and not somewhere they could afford to eat at regularly. And yet they were bumped out of their reservation anyway. They had made it several months prior.
They were supposed to be celebrating their new pregnancy. They had been trying for some time, to no avail. Until now, anyway. They were struggling to find a name for their baby boy, but negotiations always seemed to fall flat. They were going to decide on a name tonight, over diner. At their favorite restaurant. Until they lost their table.
Instead, they were eating a TV dinner at home. Needless to say, they were not happy.
The husband heard a car pull into their driveway. Strange, he thought, they weren’t expecting visitors. He went to the door to see who it was; he didn’t recognize the car. Well, not as the car of anyone he knew. Of course he recognized the car, he worked at Chrysler. He knew a Crown Imperial when he saw one. But nobody he knew drove one.
A well-dressed, but unfamiliar, man stepped out of the driver seat. He seemed like a chauffer, but there was nobody else in the car with him. Just before the strange man shut the door to the car, the husband caught a glimpse of what he thought might be a telephone. Whoever owned this car was incredibly wealthy. Certainly someone with more means than he and his wife.
And yet, the strange man headed directly for his front door. He certainly seemed to know the husband. His wife came up behind him and urged her husband to open the door, and so he did. As the door opened, the strange man smiled graciously. “Sorry sir and madam, I shan’t take but a moment of your time” he said in an obviously English accent. The husband definitely didn’t know anyone from England.
The strange man handed the husband and wife an envelope, filled to the brim with cash. He explained to the couple that this was a reimbursement for their lost reservation, but it was several times over what it had cost them. The couple thanked the strange man profusely, but he wasn’t finished. He gestured to the car and explained that he was also leaving this incredible vehicle to them. “It’s actually quite ironic, if you think about it. This was the car from which the Young Master called to take your reservation. The Young Master wanted you to have it. He said he wouldn’t be needing it anymore. I suspect he has his eye on a newer car.”
A deafening sound crashed above them. The storm wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour or so, and it was still rather sunny out despite the rain. The forecast must have been wrong. “Ah, well cheerio then! I must get going before the rain sets in!” the strange man explained. “Wait, who is your employer?” the wife asked. The strange man smiled “Ah, I’m terribly sorry. I had almost forgotten!”
An hour later, the storm finally rolled in. Oddly enough, no thunder had been heard since that strange man had left. But it was here now. Curious, the wife turned on their old television to hear the news. But instead of weather, the television was abuzz with news of an apparent plane crash just over the city.
And then she heard it: the name of that strange man’s employer. Her ears perked up, and she honed in on the story. She nearly fainted. Her husband rushed to help her, but his jaw dropped as he heard what was being broadcast over the television.
A government agent explained to the television, with a strange tension on his face, that the “Young Master” had flown his plane directly into a Soviet bomber, right before it could drop its payload. A Soviet nuclear bomber.
Apparently, it wasn’t thunder that they had heard earlier.
Husband and wife looked at one another. They had an idea on what to name their son.
The Friend
The General sat in his chair. He looked remarkably unprofessional at the moment. His hair was frazzled, his coat was hastily thrown over his desk, and he had an almost manic look on his face.
A Soviet bomber in American airspace. Almost certainly carrying a nuclear payload. Reports indicated that several more were headed for the Western Coast, but most of them were intercepted and the rest were soon to follow. Hardly surprising, since most of the East Cost had sent their fighters out West for just such an occurrence. After all, it was hardly likely that the Soviet Union would be able to field a bomber out East, especially when the West Coast was a much easier target. And yet, apparently, they had.
Reports indicated that this lone bomber, flying without an escort, had made it’s way from somewhere up North, maybe from Canada, using the cover of the approaching storm to hide its presence. By the time the Americans had caught wind of it, it was only an hour or so out from its presumed target of New York City. And with most of the fighters sent out West, there was hardly anything they could do to stop it. The General had scrambled every available fighter to intercept their doom, but the search was not looking good. The storm was making it hard to track this lone bomber, and there wasn’t much time left.
He felt helpless. He wasn’t even on base at the moment. He had been here to visit a friend when he got the news. Of course, he told his old buddy the news. He knew his friend could keep a secret, even a secret as large as “we’re all going to die.” They had graduated Westpoint together. They had fought in the War together. And even though his friend had left the Army, they still kept in touch. They were both still soldiers at heart.
But he didn’t expect this reaction from his friend. He had gone to speak with the Colonel because he knew the man frequently talked on air at a local syndicated radio station. The General figured that the people ought to at least know that they would soon die, and he was going to ask the Colonel to tell America. The General just couldn’t do it.
And yet, the Colonel refused. He stared blankly at the General for only a moment, and then he did the strangest thing. The Colonel calmly asked a girl out for dinner. What kind of man makes dinner plans after being told he was to die this very day? Even stranger than that, after leaving the girl blushing, the Colonel turned to the General saluted, and left without a word.
That was some time ago. The General wasn’t really sure how long ago. He wasn’t keeping track of time. What was the point? But it felt like a lifetime ago. Now he sat, desperatly trying to muster up the courage to announce to America that he, alongside most of New York, was doomed.
And then, the door to his office burst open, nearly flying off its hinges. It was the General’s assistant, the very same man who had informed him of that dreadful harbinger some hours ago. The assistant was as shocked now as he was then, but this time he wasn’t quite as pale. In fact, he seemed amazed not afraid.
The assistant explained that apparently a midair collision was detected. That should have been impossible, since one of the first things the General had done was to ground all outbound civilian flights in order to clear the airways for what few planes he could muster. He knew none of his pilots would be so stupid as to crash into one another. But then his assistant said the strangest thing. It was a civilian aircraft. And a military aircraft, though not an American plane. It was the Soviet bomber. A civilian plane had apparently, probably deliberately, crashed into the bomber, saving hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of lives in the process.
It was a miracle. And yet, a pit of dread gnawed at the General’s heart. Then it hit him: “What was the model of plane that saved our hides?” he asked, fearing he already knew the answer. “Hard to say General, but it was a personal aircraft. Not many can fly that high either. Records indicate that only one plane in the area should have even been capable of reaching that height.”
The General wept. Right there. In front of a subordinate.
He had always thought that the Colonel would have made General before he did, but the Colonel had left the Army before that could ever happen.
The Girl
She was sitting, alone, at the nicest place in town. And she had been alone for longer than she would have liked. A lot longer. She was a little frustrated now, and more than a little heartbroken. She had been waiting on that handsome man to ask her out for so long, and he finally did. But now, he was apparently standing her up.
Nobody else seemed to even notice. It was Valentine’s Day. It was supposed to be romantic. And it was, for everyone else. Even still, more than a few people seemed to be a bit more interested in the latest news than in each other. She tried to tune it out, but caught bits and pieces hear and there. Apparently there was a plane crash or something. Tragic, but not what she wanted to think about at the moment. Today was important.
Then she saw who appeared to be the owner, heading directly for her table. He had a bottle of expensive brandy in his hand and a strange look on his face. She wasn’t sure if the brandy was consolation, a gift from some new suitor, or an attempted apology from her date. Frankly she didn’t like any of those choices. She wasn’t really in the mood.
She was getting ready to wave the owner away, but then he did the strangest thing. He removed his tie, sat down at the table with her, and poured them both a glass of brandy. Just as she was about to say how unprofessional all this was, the owner hushed her.
And then he began to speak. And then she began to cry.
Apparently, it wasn’t just an ordinary plane crash that the everyone around her was talking about. She was so excited to come here, to go on a date with that handsome man, that she hadn’t even bothered to turn on the news when she got home. If she had, she might have known what happened. She might have known why her date wasn’t here. Today was important. But he had to fly today.
He really was incredible.
You almost brought me to tears. Beautiful! Bravo!
Excellent twist, good stuff.
My only criticism that holds any water would be the odd bits like “heart by the heartstrings.” Very enjoyable read.