A Stone's Throw Away, Six

The fun starts at One: Click Here

Six

Brian sat under his favorite tree by the fence. He hadn’t done this type of work lately and felt out of shape. That would change. Although convenient, Adam would no longer be doing his chores.

He wiped sweat from his brow.

Mentally, Brian was a giant, matured beyond his years. Funny, he felt out of place, like a kid wearing the clothes of a young man. This would be a turning point in his life.

With his agenda cleared, he stayed put, contemplating the new path he would be taking in life. Mixed sentiments, from wanting to talk to Danny about what he had accomplished to anticipation of that first plane ride.

Once, Brian had looked forward to nothing else. But that was two years ago, and a lot had changed. Apprenticing Henry’s work would never replace the project. Just the thought of it made him antsy. He needed to work on it. But when he had crawled out of his bed this morning he was the new apprentice. To stop seemed like a cruel joke. It wasn’t going to be easy to stifle the urge that compelled him to proceed. So close.

He wondered what Henry would expect. The thought made him uneasy. Wound up, he couldn’t sit any longer. When he stood, he stretched and could tell he had gotten a work out; and still, the clippings had to be taken to the Dupe.

A creak sounded from the woods. Brian turned, taking in the panorama, trying to pinpoint where it had come from. Probably a branch, but something had broken it. What ever it was had frozen. He knew it was there, had to be big and was watching him trying to locate it. The most numerous, and dangerous predators, were huge and sneaky. Even with their majestic fur coats, he seldom spotted them when he was the target of their hunt. Cunning animals, they managed to blend in. He decided to leave the area. Once, he had seen one almost clear the top of the fence.

Trotting toward the mower, he listened intently. Sometimes, just turning your back and walking away made them charge after you. It was scary when they did, they were incredibly fast, but he heard nothing coming after him.

Cunning, reminded Brian of the foxes… He could never quite shake the feeling that he had discovered a new species. Depending on what Henry required of him, maybe he would find the time to look into it further, do some research, see what was available concerning new species.

With the mower in tow, he headed for the Dupe.

When he arrived home, he decided to clean the place and take a shower. Neither took long. Because he lived alone and wasn’t there often, it stayed pretty tidy. Just a light dusting was needed. After that, he didn’t know what to do with himself and began pacing the floor. This didn’t last long and the house became confining. He decided to go for a walk; get back outside.

Out of habit, once outside, he found himself headed in the direction of the Research Center. Maybe he should see Sandy, explain everything. He did an about face. He had to burn off his excess energy. It was making him crazy. He needed to find something to do to occupy his mind. Walking wasn’t doing the trick.

Brian wondered if anyone would care if he dropped in on Henry’s office building. He would go there, familiarize himself with the place, find out where Henry’s office was located and then leave. He wasn’t reporting, just doing the prudent thing by checking things out ahead of time. That way, when it was time, he’d already know where to go. If, on the off chance he ran into Henry, maybe he would introduce himself formally.

Never having been there, feeling out of place, it played on him, even before he let himself in. Because of that, he had to find a bathroom first and began roaming the halls looking for one.

“Hey Brian, I heard you wanted to fly the plane,” Henry hollered at him from an adjacent hall. Brian could hear Henry’s voice echo off the walls.

Purely coincident, Brian backed up a step. “Sure, Chief Henry, I think so,” Brian responded. Henry was close enough that Brian extended his hand.

“Just call me Chief. Everyone else does,” still loud. Brian had seen Henry at the cafeteria and knew that he was normally loud.

“Okay, Chief.”

“I didn’t expect to see you today,” Henry spat out, sounding a little frustrated. “I suppose you’re ready to fly the plane?”

“Right now?” questioning…

“Right now, it’s what Sandy said you wanted to do, fly, right? So, do you, or don’t you?”

“Sure,” unsure.

“Let’s go.”

Stunned, Brian had only come to find the office. During the course of his apprenticeship, Brian expected to go up in the plane, and eventually learn to fly, but not to be taken up within the first ten seconds of Henry laying eyes on him.

Brian quickly scanned the hall looking for a bathroom. Henry was walking toward the exit. With none in sight, pressed with what was more important, Brian took off down the hall to catch up with Henry. Outside, he watched as Henry slid into his cart. A status symbol, for the upper echelons, few people had them. Brian hesitated.

“Come on, get in,” seeming short. “We haven’t got all day.”

Barely situated, Henry slammed it into reverse and floored it. Brian caught the dash with both hands to keep himself off from it. Next, Brian slammed into the back of the seat as Henry took off forward. Brian was glad the seat was cushioned. Henry was a maniac behind the wheel.

They drove to the cafeteria and parked practically inside of the door. Henry’s cart was much faster than the shuttle. Henry was out and into the building. Brian followed, trying to keep up.

Inside, Henry worked the keypad, his fingers a blur, bringing up the sign on screen. Getting food didn’t require this step. The screen populated itself with more choices than Brian had ever seen. He wondered how many levels Henry was cleared to access. He must be at the top, or very close to it. He watched intently, realizing this guy could get anything he wanted. Brian began to stare at him in awe. All the while, Henry’s fingers remained a blur over the keypad.

When the doors slid open on the Dupe, Henry grabbed a large flexible container off the platform. At the same time, he stuffed something in his pocket. Whatever had been there, sat behind the container blocking Brian’s view.

Henry sat the container on the floor and extended a handle from the top. There were wheels at the base. “Take this,” pointing the handle in Brian’s direction. “Put it in the cart.”

Brian was curious to what was inside. When Henry didn’t offer, Brian wheeled it to the cart and threw it in back. Fearing the worst, Brian braced himself, ready for Henry to take off.

Henry drove over the grounds, neglecting the roadways, taking the most direct route to the hangar. He was a madman with this thing. The grounds were hilly, mowed grass. It was hilly by design, providing more surface area for the grass. Henry ensured Brian’s fears were not unwarranted, as Brian felt air under them several times and held on all the way to the hangar. Before they arrived, Brian wished he had stayed home. The cart flew.

When they arrived, Henry hopped out yelling at Brian. “Catch the door, will you.” Brian, on Henry’s heels, grabbed the door on his right. “No, the other one,” Henry admonished. Brian expected Henry to call him some idiotic name. He and Danny had exchanged those all the time. “Slide it, like this,” Henry demonstrated.

Brian moved to the other half, and pushed. This brought the plane into view. It sat just inside the doors. Brian craned his neck and looked up. It was a behemoth. When the door hit a positive stop, Brian turned fully toward the plane.

“It never looks this big when you’re flying it, Chief,” Brian said, gaping.

Henry walked into the hangar, and proceeded under the plane. “You left something in the cart. Go get it,” Henry ordered, ignoring Brian.

Rolling the container into the hangar, Brian promptly forgot the cart ride and anticipated getting on the plane. This was it. He had looked forward to this for a long time. He walked under the wing where Henry had disappeared.

Brian reached out and slid his hand along the underbelly of the plane.

“It’s smooth, isn’t it?” Brian called out.

“Smooth and ugly,” Henry assured him, easily heard.

Brian never thought it ugly, but by design it was nothing more than a wing. It looked like a piece of paper folded like a fan. The bends were not quite as pronounced and at the top of each sat a propeller. There were eight propellers, making for a long wing.

“Come on, the entrance to the can is back here,” Henry called.

Thankful, Brian was hoping the hangar had a bathroom. He wondered how Henry knew, and hurried. It had become imperative.

Henry was standing behind the plane, next to some crude looking steps, waiting.

“You ride in that?” Brian asked, following the steps to where they led. “Now that’s ugly, Chief.”

The can, Henry referred to, sat on top of the plane. “Come on, get in,” Henry prodded. “And watch your tongue. It took the guy that built this a couple of months. It’s one of the better ones around.”

“I see he was creative,” Brian commented.

“Don’t get smart. That guy would be me.”

Sorry he said it, and against his better judgment but also feeling redeemed, Brian placed a foot onto the first step. He really had to go but began to climb instead.

The can sat between the fourth and fifth propeller, nestled into the cradle of the choppy V configuration, right in the center of the wing. Brian struggled getting through the access door, not because the opening was too small but because the steps were out of kilter, slightly slanted in the wrong direction. He couldn’t maintain his center of gravity without grabbing hold of the wall inside. He used it to maintain his balance.

It was even more crude inside the contraption. It was a strange environment; Brian had never seen anything like it. The floor was made of grated metal planks. The planks provided a flat surface between the V. They were not even and did not cover the area they should have across both sides. Bolted to the planks, were two seats toward the front. The flat wall in front of the seats contained a window that was long and narrow. There were also ten pull down seats, strapped in the up position. Five each were on opposite walls, facing each other.

It seemed small and didn’t look safe. This didn’t help Brian’s situation.

“Take this,” Henry yelled up from the bottom of the steps.

Henry held the container above his head with the handle extended. Brian quickly got on his hands and knees to reach it. While there, he saw solar panels under him. He was sure the sun hadn’t seen them in years.

Shortly, Henry was in the can with him, taking up more space. It felt cramped, but safer with Henry aboard. Brian wondered how ten more people would fit. Physically, there was room, but not mentally.

“Pick a seat and we’ll be underway.”

“Does it matter which one?”

“Nope, I already know my butt fits in both of them. If yours doesn’t, we’re in trouble.”

Brian laughed, realizing, for the first time that Henry was being cordial to him.

Henry closed the hatch and then secured the container to the floor with a bungee. Brian’s eyes opened wide. What was this going to be like? Henry at the controls…strapping things in place…buckling in…. “Come on, I told you to take a seat,” Henry repeated, while he buckled.

Brian took the remaining seat. His nerves kicked in, he fiddled with his belt. He was going to be strapped too. Once buckled, Henry reached over and pulled Brian’s belt. One of Brian’s legs began to move back and forth. The pressure caused a small release. The leg went faster, regaining control.

Henry sighed, closed his eyes and faced forward. Immediately, Brian grabbed the buckle and loosened it. It helped, tremendously. He checked, nothing showed. With his leg still moving, Brian looked to Henry for what came next. Strange, Henry seemed to be meditating. Stranger still, Henry may be waiting for him to do something. Thankfully, there were no controls in front of him. And the strangest thing, it wouldn’t have mattered which seat Brian sat in, there were no controls in front of Henry either. Weird.

The wait became intolerable; both legs were now in action….

“Chief, are we going to go?” Thinking the sooner they left, the sooner they’d be back.

“Quiet, Brian, I’m going through the preflight stuff,” then chuckled, opening one eye to look at him. Brian’s legs stopped. “Actually, I was wondering if I left any pressing matters back at headquarters.”

Pressing matters, if Henry didn’t hurry it along….

Henry undid his buckle and then leaned to one side in his chair. With one butt cheek up, Brian thought he was going to foul the air. There would be no escape inside the can. Danny would already be laughing. However, Henry reached into his pocket and pulled out a rectangular black case. It had to be what he had taken from the platform. Henry began unfolding it from the center. It wasn’t a case. Each half went out to the side. The two sides, folded out again. Henry then flipped a handle down from the backside and locked it in place. It had finger style grooves. When done, the device had transformed, becoming much larger than when pulled from his pocket.

“I hope this thing works,” Henry said, pushing a small green button that was imbedded on the edge toward the top. “I can’t find the other one. I have no idea where I sat it down the last time I flew this old thing.” The whole face of the device came to life with a multitude of different displays. Henry touched an icon on the screen, and all eight propellers began to spin. A low hum filled the inside of the can. “Hey, it works,” alleviating any concern. “I didn’t know if I duped the right one. You ready?” as the plane lurched forward. “You know, it scares the dickens out of me every time I have to fly,” Henry yelled above the rising noise. “Maybe I’ll have you build me a new one.”

At the moment, it didn’t sound like Henry was to keen on flying maneuvering his thumb over one of the displays near the bottom by the handgrip. The plane responded to every movement of his thumb. One leg began to move slowly. Toward the top of the display, on the center screen, Brian leaned back to see the forward view on the monitor of where they were going as they taxied.

“How long are we going to be gone?” Brian asked when they reached the runway.

The plane surged forward. “We’ll be in the air at least an hour, or more,” Henry said, as he spun the edge of a dial in the handle, turning the hum into a buzz.

Although Brian wanted off because it would be impossible to wait, he prepared for the long haul. The vibration inside the can became unbearable. Every piece of metal that touched, protested against each other with an ever-increasing whining pitch. The speed through the window kept coming at Brian faster until it no longer seemed real. It just was. The ride became bumpy and sloshed them both in unison from side to side. When they lifted, Brian felt it, the vibration inside stopped. An amazing contrast, it became quiet by comparison.

Brian tried to scoot forward. His belt stopped him. Reaching down, he undid it and got closer to the window. If it were important, Henry would have rebuckled his. With a better view, Brian saw how effortlessly the plane carried them up. He watched the fence pass beneath them. As they did so, an indescribable sensation washed over him. He tried to put a name to it. Thrilled, was all he came to mind, but that wasn’t totally accurate.

Eventually, his forehead touched the window and his breath laid out a light fog over the glass, which vaporized immediately. Brian barely noticed; it didn’t interfere with his line of sight. As the scenery below miniaturized, the slower the details came and went.

Very prominent, the forest extended from horizon to horizon. Brian looked at it all. He focused on one thing, then would jump to another with a continuous scan. The loss of pressure made him move his jaw from side to side. His ears popped. He wondered if that was normal.

There was water inter-dispersed within the forest below, it came in all shapes and sizes. At the right angle, the color would turn white as the rays of the sun reflected up to where he sat in the plane and found him.

All too new, Brian stayed glued to the window. The leading edge of the horizon continually brought something to study. After a while, Brian saw something ahead that stood out. A mass of shapes protruded above the forest. He began to study them intently. Closer, they became more defined. He saw that the edges straight-lined. They stood far above the trees.

Brian finally recognized them as buildings. They were taller than anything at the Installation, nothing there stood above the trees. Grouped together in one area, all rose to varying heights. Some of them reached up to a quarter of the distances they flew. A gush of wind from the back hatch stopped Brian from asking why they were there.

So engrossed, he never realized that Henry had gotten up from his seat.

With the hatch open, Henry took a whiz out the back. Watching Henry as he relieved himself brought the need back to Brian with a vengeance.

The remote sat in Henry’s vacated seat. “This is weird, now there’s no one flying the plane,” Brian said barely audible. He couldn’t wait until Henry was done, and stood. Starting out pigeon-toed, slowly, balancing against the movement of the plane, muscles cried out against the flood, he kept control. As he made his way to the hatch, he prepared himself all the way. It didn’t matter--there was no putting it off any longer. He was ready before he reached the hatch and had to pinch it shut.

“Don’t fall out,” Henry said. Brian laughed; there was no way to do so, the hatch was too small. “And don’t get any on the plane.” The relief was so tremendous it almost hurt. There was no control over where it flew when it hit the wind. Brian’s laugh turned to glee.

The view out of the hatch was better. From years of use, the window was pitted to the point that it was slightly frosted. Without looking through the glass, it was clear.

He looked for the Installation; thought it would be nearby, but didn’t see it.

“Hey Chief, where’s the Installation?”

“You see that ridge in the distance?” Henry pointed, bent over. Brian had to stoop, but shook his head yes. “The Installation is on top of it.”

“How far away?

“Hmm…can’t be more than a hundred miles.”

“A hundred miles!” Brian repeated, “You ever go far enough where you can’t see the ridge?”

“All the time.”

“How do you find your way back?”

“Sometimes landmarks, but the remote tells you.”

Brian understood the landmarks. Even though he saw mostly the tops of trees, there were discernable differences all around that were readily distinguished.

“How long have we been flying?”

“About an hour.”

That seemed impossible. It felt like they had just left.

“You can get us back okay from here?” He knew Henry did this all the time, but this time he was aboard and wanted some assurance.

“That won’t be a problem, Brian,” Henry said. “Come on, close the hatch and get in your seat, we’re going to buzz the airport.”

When Brian got back to his seat, he noted that Henry had buckled in; and too, the buildings were much closer. Brian strapped in and began to ask about the buildings. His question turned out to be only, “Ah!” and then nothing came out. His stomach lurched to his throat and stayed there. His hands went to the chair. They were falling and he was leaving his seat.

“There, see it?” Henry yelled out. Brian was looking out the window and saw nothing but the ground coming at them. It kept getting closer and did so quicker with each passing moment. With the plane in a nosedive, Brian thought Henry had lost control. His knuckles were white from gripping the chair. They were going to hit the ground, every muscle tensed. Tight up against the belt, Brian was no longer in his seat. If he still had to go, it would have been over, which would have been the only relief he would experience through the stress of dying.

Brian took in a breath ready to scream, he turned away. He didn’t want to watch when they hit the ground. Henry was concentrating on the remote. Brian tried to see, but at the wrong angle, saw nothing.

Henry slid his thumb back on the sensor. As the thumb moved, so did Brian’s stomach. It left his throat and slid all the way to the chair, gaining momentum before it got there. For a bit, he was glued to the seat.

Henry’s thumb played over the controls again. Somehow he managed to make it go up, no, sideways, no, up and sideways.

“Good, nothing’s there,” Henry yelled. “Boy that was fun.” Inside the can, things began to return to normal.

“Chief, what are you doing?” Brian asked, trying to figure out when fun had come into play.

“I told you, buzzing the airport. Hang on, we’re going in. This may get bumpy,” Henry warned before, and now again. Brian grabbed his belt and pulled it tight, then latched both hands onto his seat.

Henry flew the plane in a wide arch, while expertly descending to the top of the trees. Brian watched as a clearing came into view. They then went below the trees. When the wheels hit the ground, the speed and vibration returned. They were both jostled about, but nothing too bad.

When the plane stopped, Henry was up, opened the hatch and disappeared out the door. Brian stayed put. He was alive, and breathed a sigh of relief. He kept breathing sighs of relief before he got to his feet. Why would Henry land and go outside? There would be predators out there. He needed to go check.

“Brian, we’ve got lots of work to do. Let’s get started.” That sounded like Henry expected him to leave the can. He just survived what he thought was a crash; it would be less safe out there. “Come on, hop to it.”

Brian went to the hatch. Henry landed on some old concrete. There were straight lines leading to the plane where the wheels had flattened vegetation. He saw bare spots, where the concrete showed under the weeds.

With Henry waiting, Brian got out onto the steps, hesitated, then descended, and for the first time in his life touched ground outside the Installation. This caused a stirring within his breast.

“Under the wing in the next bend, you’ll find a compartment with tools. Get what you need and gather up what’s on the runway,” Henry pointed in the direction Brian would find the stuff. “Watch yourself; we’re no longer inside the fence.” Unaware, Brian’s nostrils flared with the intake of each breath. He couldn’t see past the trees. They had grown close together and thick on either side of where they had landed. He underwent a heightened sense of awareness. Someone had trimmed the branches off the trees, keeping them from overhanging the clearing.

“I said we don’t have all day,” Henry repeated. “Hop to it.” It took Brian a while to figure out where the compartments were located. Everything on the plane looked so seamless. It took longer still to figure out how to unlatch and open the access door. He thought Henry would jump all over his case for taking so long.

Brian assessed the assortment of hand tools strapped inside the compartment. He grabbed a spade shovel and a rake.

He started his labor close to the steps. Their close proximity offered security.

Brian saw that Henry had found a table and chair, which he set up under the shade of the wing. He was working with equipment he had placed on the table. The equipment had cords leading to the plane. Brian had no idea what he was doing.

It didn’t take long to figure out how inaccurate Henry’s statement was. ‘We’ had nothing to do with the manual labor Henry had assigned him.

After a while, Henry came around carrying a tarp to check Brian’s progress. He dropped the tarp on the area Brian had already cleaned.

“Lay this out over the grating in the can. That pathetic pile of stuff you’ve collected so far goes back with us. Put it on the tarp. Don’t make any piles out here, put it in the can right away, now come on and hop to it.”

Under the hot sun, Brian was already sweating.

By early afternoon, he had made some progress. He had gone back to the tool compartment and grabbed the flathead shovel. The flathead, when pushed across the top of the concrete, left a clean surface. Brian figured out he could roll up the accumulated dirt and roots with the weeds they supported. He put the rolls on his shoulder and carried them up the steps.

When Brian inquired about a bathroom break, Henry simply pointed to the trees; Brian never asked again. Every time he reached the edge of the concrete, it put him up close to the woods. It bothered him and kept him on constant vigil, searching, ensuring no predators were ready to pounce. He feared they were lurking just out of sight. He knew how they were; he wouldn’t stand a chance unless he spotted them first, or was closer to the plane.

Later, Brian decided to get out of the sun for a while and took an extended break under the wing. He wasn’t tired, but bored of the work. When Henry noticed this, he told Brian to fetch the container in the plane. When Brian returned, there was another chair set out for him by the table. He sat the container close to Henry and took the seat. It felt good to get off his feet. He hadn’t felt so worn out until he sat. He was definitely getting some exercise.

Henry opened the container, and the aroma of food filled the air. Brian hadn’t expected to eat until they returned. Before the smell of food, he was willing to hold out right along with Henry. A hot plate was set out in front of him, along with utensils. Brian was ready to dig in, but he waited until Henry was ready. Next, though, Henry sat out refreshments. When Henry picked up his fork, Brian seized the drink.

It was unusually cold and satisfying.

“That’s good and cold. Can I have another?” deciding he liked it cold. “So what do you call the container, Chief?”

“It’s a cooler,” Henry answered, handing him another drink. Brian laughed; Henry could be funny. “Serious, it’s a cooler.”

“I’ve never seen it on the menu,” Brian said, remembering Henry’s tremendous amount of selections. “So why is it a cooler when the food is hot?”

“I couldn’t tell you. All I know is the directory lists coolers and there’s all kinds of them.”

“The drinks are cold, the food’s hot. It should be called something else.”

“Convince Ivan to change it. You could suggest five-dayers, seems how they don’t perform well past five days.” Ivan was the head administrator over Installation One-O-Seven. An old coot, Brian would never approach him with something so menial.

“How long are we staying, Chief?” Brian asked.

“That depends on you, Brian,” Henry said with a challenging tone. “You don’t have that much done yet.”

Brian couldn’t figure this guy out. One minute he was cordial, the next, he tried to be intimidating. Henry’s statement silenced Brian for the rest of their meal.

After eating, Brian pushed himself harder. He would show Henry what he was made of; he had accomplished much more than this, just not physically. It took him a while to figure out how to go about doing the work efficiently. With the flathead, he was now efficient. The only other thing that slowed him down, was keeping an eye out for predators. He wouldn’t bother with that anymore. Henry hadn’t lifted a finger yet, he could watch Brian’s backside.

Periodically, Brian had to go into the can to move the rolls forward and stack them, so he could bring in more. By early evening, the can was getting full.

“It’s time to go,” Henry told him.

“A little longer, Chief, I can get more done,” Brian practically pleaded. With the trees providing shade, he was doing well.

“Who’s the boss here?”

“You are.”

“When I say it’s time to go….” waiting for Brian.

“It’s time to go,” Brian completed, intimidated into obedience.

“Stow your gear,” which Henry had already done with his. Brian used the flathead to cut loose the roll he was working on. He hefted it up and loaded it into the can. He then put his things away.

As they took off, Brian felt the difference in the plane’s surge when it hit the section he cleared. His pride swelled. He did that.

Henry did not offer Brian a chance to fly, and now that Brian had seen it done, he wanted to give it a shot. If given the chance, he’d take it, it didn’t look that hard.

When Brian saw the Installation, he gripped his chair. He didn’t know if Henry had to buzz the airport or not. He took a couple of deep breaths, getting ready. He knew what to expect and prepared for it. Henry didn’t buzz the airport, though, and made a smooth landing.

The hangar doors were still open. Henry turned the plane around, reversed the propellers and backed it in. The viewer switched to the rear when the propeller did.

“Thanks, Chief,” Brian said.

“Don’t mention it,” back to being cordial. “You can drive me to the office. I want to make sure you can operate the cart okay. Once you drop me off, use the cart to take this junk to the Dupe. The cooler goes too. Leave my cart at the office when you’re done and I’ll see you in the morning.”

The cart was easy to operate. Brian was overjoyed and felt important. It was fun to be at the controls, having never experienced such power over anything. When he dropped Henry off at his office, Brian only heard, “Night,” and Henry disappeared into the building.

Brian went back and forth to the Dupe, making several trips before deciding to eat. When done eating it was after dark, no one could see, and because of that, he couldn’t resist and took the cart for a spin around the facility. He pushed it to the limit, putting it up on two wheels several times nearly flipping it. Immensely gratifying, he had a blast. Much later, he returned to his labor.

After a while, it began to remind him of the Research Center’s long hours. He was tired and ready to go home. An unusual day, it had started with nothing on his agenda, and turned out packed with new experiences that both thrilled and stirred him. Thrown in for good measure, he had worked hard. If there was such a thing as having too much fun, this day had just approached it. He wanted to experience every bit of it again except for maybe buzzing the airport.

Belatedly, Brian thought Henry had a reason for buzzing the airport. He did say, ‘good, nothing’s there’ like he was expecting something.

Thanks for reading...

© C. Lee

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