Chapter Seven Seems Pretty Cool

Saturday, June Eleventh, Eight Fifteen A.M.

Alex was in a bit of a rush.  He’d woken up late, and was hustling to get moving in order to get to the airport in Crystal by eight forty five.  He was supposed to be meeting a pilot named Bruce Evans at nine o’clock, and he wanted to leave himself a bit of time to park, and just in case he got himself lost.  The Crystal airport was new to Alex, and he didn’t want to get himself lost and arrive super late.

He had stuffed a few changes of underwear and a couple of extra shirts into a duffle bag, and figured that was going to be plenty.  Alex anticipated that he and Bruce were going to be spending more time flying than on the island, so having a bunch of changes of clothes didn’t seem necessary.  He grabbed the duffle bag on the way out of this apartment, locked the door behind himself, and hopped on the elevator that would take him down to the parking garage.

Down in the garage, Alex hurried to his parking spot.  Ordinarily, his Mustang would be there waiting for him, but he’d borrowed the Impala for a couple more days from Darcy Custom Brokers so he wouldn’t have to deal with moving the statue between cars.

Something seemed funny with the Impala.  It took Alex a minute to realize what it was:  the front passenger side window was missing, and there was a pile of broken glass under the car.

Alex panicked a bit then.  He ran the rest of the way to the Impala to check the damage and see if anything important was missing.

The doors were all unlocked, and the glovebox had clearly been gone through.  Alex noticed that his folder of compact discs was gone.

That in itself made Alex nervous – there was nothing of value in his cd case.  It was mostly copies he’d made of cds so he wouldn’t wreck the originals in the car.  Whoever had stolen the cds clearly hadn’t bothered to see what was in the folder before taking it.  The only original cd in there was Queen’s Greatest Hits. 

If they’d stolen that, would they have stolen the statue out of the trunk?   Alex really hoped not.

The good news was that the trunk was still shut.  Alex leaned in and pushed the trunk release button.

Nothing happened.

Alex pushed the button a couple more times, each time with the same result – nothing.  He had another small rush of anxiety – if he couldn’t get the trunk open, it was going to be hard to get the hopefully still there statue out again.

He dug the key fob out of his pocket, and hit the trunk release button.  He heard a mechanical click, and the trunk opened easily.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Alex said.  He opened the trunk the rest of the way and looked inside.

To Alex’s great relief, the statue was still there, just where he’d left it. 

Chevy’s crappy trunk release button saved the day, what do you know? Alex thought.

He tossed his duffle bag in the trunk along with the statue, and slammed the lid shut again, then hustled around to get in and start the engine.

Alex backed out of his spot without much regard for the broken glass on the floor.  If the apartment’s maintenance folks hadn’t cleaned it up by the time he got back, he figured he’d go after it with a broom and dustpan.

He glanced at the clock, and was glad to see there was still plenty of time for him to get there before nine.  He figured it would take twenty minutes to get to Crystal from his place, assuming everything else went OK.

A few minutes later, Alex was on the freeway headed towards the Crystal Airport.  The wind rushing in from the broken window made Alex very glad that the weather was pretty warm and not rainy.

He wondered if he should try to cover up the hole where the window had been before he left the car parked for a few days.  He decided he’d see how he was doing for time once he got to the airport, and cover it if he had enough time before meeting Bruce.

Alex was a bit surprised when his phone rang just as he was reaching the airport.  He answered it, and tried to figure out where to park at the same time.

“Mr. Minor?” the voice on the phone said.  “This is Bruce Evans.  I thought I’d call and help you get the parking situation figured out.”

“Wow, great,” Alex said.  “I’m just getting to the airport now.”

“Perfect timing,” Bruce said.  “Come on around to the secured driveway and I’ll let you in.  You can leave your car in the hangar while we’re gone.”

Wow, that works out well, Alex thought. 

“OK, that would be great,” he said.

Alex reached the security gate, and saw a man in a white polo shirt, khaki shorts and a battered, navy blue baseball cap waiting next to the keypad.  Alex rolled down his window, and said, “Hi, are you Bruce?”

“I sure am, Mr. Minor.  Ready to fly?” Bruce said.

“I hope so,” Alex said.  “You can call me Alex, by the way.”

“Thank you Mr. Minor,” Bruce said.  “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to keep things formal.”

“Well, whatever works for you,” Alex said. 

“Let me get this gate open, and then I’ll hop in with you and guide you to the hangar,” Bruce said.

Bruce punched a sequence of numbers into the keypad, and then jogged around to the passenger side of the Impala as the gate rolled open.

“Jeez, what happened to your car?” Bruce said.

“I guess someone really, really wanted Queen’s Greatest Hits,” Alex said.  “Sorry about the mess over there.”

“No worries, Mr. Minor,” Bruce said.  “I’ve seen worse.”

Within seconds of getting into the airport, Alex realized he was hopelessly lost.  He was glad Bruce was there directing him on when to turn, and where. 

After a few minutes, the two of them reached an open hangar.  A blue and white airplane that looked absolutely tiny was sitting in front of the open hangar door.

“So what are we going to be switching this plane out for before we get out over the ocean?” Alex said.

Bruce looked mildly insulted.

“Switch it out?  This is a Mooney, we’re going to be flying her all the way to Walli-Wo,” Bruce said.

“With just the one engine?” Alex said.

“Waste not, want not,” Bruce said.  “Mooney’s are slippery, fuel-efficient and fast.  Multi-engines won’t give us much more speed, and cost a hell of a lot more to fly.”

“Yeah, but what happens if the engine dies, or something,” Alex said.

“We’ll get wet, probably,” Bruce said.  “We would in most multi-engine planes too.  You lose one engine over the ocean, it just means you’re going to have some more time to think about how wet you’re going to get.  Anyway, quit being such a pessimist, Mr. Minor.”

Alex didn’t know how to respond.

Bruce glanced at his watch, and said, “Time’s wasting, let’s get this bird in the air.  Pull right on in to the hangar and park.  Your car will be safer here while we’re gone that it would be in your own garage.”

Alex parked, and the two of them got out of the car.  Alex popped the trunk open.

“Great, you packed light.  Good man,” Bruce said.  “How much do you think this statue weighs?”

“I’m not sure, eighty pounds or so, I guess,” Alex said.

“OK, great, that’ll be no problem at all, then,” Bruce said.  “Do you want some help getting this thing into the back seat of the plane?” Bruce said.

“That would be great.  Will it be safe in the back seat?” Alex said.

“At least as safe as it was in your trunk,” Bruce said.

The two of them were able to get the statue bundled into the back seat of Bruce’s Mooney with only a little bit of difficulty.  They tossed Alex’s duffle bag back there too.  Bruce had already loaded his own stuff into the plane earlier that morning.

Once everything was in and secured, Bruce closed and locked the hangar, and said, “Have you ever flown in a small plane before, Mr. Minor?”

“No, this is a new experience for me,” Alex said.

“Well, I’ll do my best to show you the ropes,” Bruce said.  “First things first, let me show you how to get in.”

Alex discovered it was mildly challenging climbing into an airplane from the wing.  Bruce had made it look easy, but Alex stood there feeling foolish and trying to fold himself the right way to fit into the cockpit.

Once he was in and buckled up, Bruce leaned across Alex and shut the door.

“Forgive me invading your personal space.  These doors only need a gentle touch to close, and I like to take care of them myself when I’m flying with a newbie.  Some folks try to slam them shut like a car door, sets my teeth on edge,” Bruce said.

“Bear with me a moment as I go through my checklist,” he continued.

Alex sat back and watched as Bruce consulted a written list, flipping switches and pulling levers, until he finally opened a tiny window on his side of the cockpit and hollered, “Clear Prop!”

Starting the engine made the entire plane moved in a way that made Alex realize just how lightweight the plane actually was.

Bruce looked over at Alex and said, “I need your attention for a moment in order to go over my passenger briefing with you.”

He read aloud from a small notecard to Alex.

“Good morning, we’re going to have a great flight today.  For your comfort and safety, please put on your god damn seatbelt and keep it on.  A fire extinguisher has been placed within your reach, please apply its contents liberally to any fires in the cockpit.  The emergency exit is the only exit, so in case of emergency, exit there.  Unless extra exits have become apparent, in which case, use which ever exit feels best.  In case of an emergency landing, please put your head between your knees.  You don’t have to kiss your ass goodbye, but it never hurts.  During taxiing, take off and landing, please keep your cake hole shut so I can do my job and not get us killed.  Do you have any questions?” Bruce said.

“Uh,” Alex said.

“Great, let’s get this bird in the air!” Bruce said.