On Wings of the Morning (31 page)

Betty had a cocktail glass in each hand. “Here’s your drink,” she told him. “Like my outfit?”

“V-v-very much,” Otto stammered.

She took his glass from him and set it with hers on the table. She leaned over and kissed him, and as he responded, began to undress him. His hands slid down her back as he hugged her to him. She broke away from the kiss, stood up, took him by the hands and said, “Let’s go upstairs where we’ll be more comfortable.”

She pulled Otto up and he followed her up the stairs. She lay on the bed on her back. He thought how alluring she looked and then she reached out and pulled him down on her.

***

Later, in the dark, Betty whispered, “Stay with me.”

“I really should be going.”

“Why won’t you stay?”

“People will talk.”

“Let them talk. I don’t care.”

“I have to think of your reputation, Betty.” Otto stood and started getting dressed.

“Well, if you must, but promise we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

“We will. I’ll be at the airport about nine.”

“I’ll be there.”

He leaned over and kissed her. “I love you, Betty.”

“And I love you, Otto.”

He crept down the dark staircase and made his way to the Ford, driving home with a thousand thoughts and a slight smile.

The beginning of August was hot in upper Wisconsin, except right by the lake, which always offered cooling breezes in the summer. Otto had tended to airport business all day, and when he pulled up into the driveway of the farmhouse, he was surprised that both Betty and Mata came running out to meet him.

“It’s over! It’s over!” they shouted, in such a frenzied fashion it was hard to tell what they were saying.

“What’s over?” he asked as they hopped around beside him.

“The war!” Mata shouted. “Japan has surrendered! The war is finally over!”

Otto felt his knees go weak and he was glad they were there to hold him up. Almost. They fell over in a heap right there in the driveway, laughing and crying all at once. When they had exhausted themselves, they lay there for a few moments and then got to their feet, dusting themselves and each other off.

“When did you hear the news?” asked Otto.

“It was just on right before you came in.” Betty told him. “Isn’t it glorious?”

“Let’s celebrate,” Mata cried. “Let’s go to town! I bet people are celebrating in the streets!”

And they were. As they drove up in Betty’s car, the streets were filled with enthusiastic townspeople dancing, kissing each other, hugging and drinking out of bottles. As they got out, men ran up and kissed and hugged Mata and Betty. Women Otto had never seen before came up to him, hugged him and kissed him. Otto had to admit that he enjoyed it, and most of all the thought that all the destruction and sacrifice were over. Now, after so many years and so many deaths and so many injuries like his, they could return to leading normal lives. He felt joyful to overflowing. Life was good in so many ways.

Mata came into the house from hanging clothes late one morning to find Otto studying several sheaves of paper. She recalled a thick envelope that came for him in the mail earlier that week with the imprint of Northwest Airlines on it. Otto had said something about trying for an airline job since the airport was in good shape. He had hired a manager, Jimmy Thomas, from town, who had been in the AAF in the Pacific. He had flown reconnaissance missions and shared Otto’s passion for airplanes.

“What are you doing, brother of mine?” she asked.

“I’ve decided to apply to be a pilot with Northwest Airlines. I think I’d make a good candidate with my war record and multi-engine time. So I have all these forms to fill out. Would you look over them to make sure I did everything correctly?”

“I’d be glad to.” Mata sat down at the table and looked over some of the forms. “Otto, you’re a shoo-in! Once you fill out the forms, what do you do?”

“The next step is to have an interview in Minneapolis. After that, I don’t know.”

“My brother, the airline pilot. That is so exciting!”

Otto labored over the forms and took them directly to the post office in town the next day so they would arrive sooner.

He waited impatiently for a return letter. It arrived ten days later. Mata greeted him at the door with it. “Otto! Look what came today!”

He ripped it open eagerly and read down the page. “I have an interview! Next Wednesday in Minneapolis with the chief pilot! This is great news! I have to tell Betty!”

“You know, brother, if we had a phone installed, you could call Betty. That is, unless you’d rather
see
her.”

Otto was already running for his truck. “News like this needs to be delivered in person,” he shouted. And he was off.

***

Betty’s excitement matched his. “Oh, Otto, that is so wonderful! Can I go with you?”

“I’m just going to fly over, have the interview and fly back. I’ll need to concentrate and frankly, Madame, you distract me.”

She rubbed his shoulders. “Oh, I can distract you all right…”

“Betty…” he started to say but then he said no more.

***

Otto checked the address again. Yes, that was right. Fourth floor of this building. He still found cities a little confusing and intimidating but he reminded himself that being in the city and having an interview was a whole lot easier than taking on German flak and fighters. He pushed open the revolving door and headed straight for the elevator. “Floor, please,” the operator said, looking at him longer than was necessary. “Four,” Otto said.

Mata had helped him pick out a new suit, and he thought he looked pretty good, considering. He thought about wearing his uniform but decided against it. Northwest would know all about his military record. The elevator doors opened and he saw the logo of the company on the opposite wall.

He went into the office and was greeted by a well-dressed receptionist behind a counter. She looked at him levelly, without blinking. “Good morning, sir. May I help you?”

Otto stood with his hat in his hand. “I’m Captain Kerchner, and I have an appointment with Captain Harrison.”

The receptionist smiled. “Please have a seat. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Otto sat on a sofa that he judged was leather-covered. Pictures of Northwest aircraft adorned the walls. He looked at them, especially noting the newest model. It would be great to fly one of those. It would also be nice to fly without people shooting at him.

The receptionist looked over at him. “Captain Harrison will see you now, Captain Kerchner.”

“Thank you,” Otto said, and went over and opened the door marked, “Captain Robert Harrison, Chief Pilot.”

Harrison was seated at his desk, dressed in a dark business suit. He finished writing on the paper in front of him and then stood up, offering Otto his hand. As he made eye contact, Otto saw a flicker in his eyes and thought, Uh oh. Here it comes.

“Captain Kerchner, Robert Harrison. Good to meet you. Please have a seat.” He indicated a chair across from him. Otto shook his hand and sat down.

“Did you have a good trip over?”

“Yes. I flew into the airport. Very smooth flight.”

“I have no doubt, with your piloting skills. You were with the Eighth?”

“Yes, twenty-two missions and then I crashed on the twenty-third.”

“I was with the 468th in the Pacific.”

“Did you know Paul Tibbits?”

“He was with a special group, but, yeah, we all knew who he was. He was a pilot’s pilot. Now, let me say first that your record is very impressive. Ordinarily we’d hire you on the spot, but—”

He hesitated, and Otto waited expectantly. Here it comes, he thought.

“Well, quite frankly, Captain, speaking aviator to aviator and veteran to veteran, we have appearance requirements.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but you don’t meet them. We have to think of our public image in this business.” Otto read genuine regret in his voice and eyes. “Maybe you’d like to try our freight division. I am truly sorry, Captain.”

There was no use beating a dead horse. Otto stood and offered his hand to Harrison. The chief pilot shook it, and said, “Perhaps in the future things will change. I’ll keep your file active and let you know if it does. Thank you for coming in.”

“Thank you for your time,” Otto turned and walked back into the reception area. The receptionist looked up.

“I’m truly sorry, Captain. I hope you can fly for us one day.” She must have known about the policy since Harrison’s thick walnut door remained closed during their conversation.

“Thank you, ma’am. You’re most kind.”

Otto took the elevator down to the street and lost himself in the throngs on the sidewalk. He was somewhat accustomed to the way he looked by now, but that didn’t mean everyone else was. He would have to think about his next step, his plan B. He always had the airport, and maybe something would come of that. He looked around for a cab to take him to the Minneapolis field.

***

Mata heard the sound of Otto’s car pulling into the driveway late that afternoon and rushed out to meet him. She stopped when she saw his face. “Otto, what happened?”

He leaned wearily against the car. “They wouldn’t take me because of the way I look.”

“The way you look? What does that have to do with flying?”

“I don’t know, Mata. Something to do with maintaining the image of the airline.”

“Well, who is the president of it? We’ll fight this! We’ll make them see that you are the best damn pilot in the world.”

Otto waved his hand. “We won’t win, Mata. It’s their policy and their company. I’ll think of something else. Enlarging the airport or something.”

Mata put her arm around him. “If that’s what you want,” she said.

“Well, I wanted to be a pilot for Northwest, but that didn’t work out.”

“We’ll find something better,” Mata told him. “I have faith in you.”

Otto threw himself into the airport with renewed energy. Betty was there most days and they enjoyed each other’s company as they worked and as they took breaks. Otto had moved a bed into the back room and sometimes stayed there overnight. So did Betty.

He was going through paperwork early on a Monday morning. Betty had not come in yet, but he heard a car pull up in front of the office. He looked out and saw it was Mr. Ross, driven by his chauffeur. Otto hurried outside.

James opened the door for Mr. Ross, saying, “Good morning, Otto.”

“Good morning, James, how are you?”

“I’m fine, sir. Mr. Ross has something to ask you.”

Probably my intentions regarding his daughter, Otto thought, but Ross shook his hand as he got out of the car. “Good morning, Otto. I need a big favor.”

“Good morning, Mr. Ross. I am at your disposal.”

“I need to get to Minneapolis this morning for a last-minute meeting and I want to see if you would fly me there. Libeau moved away last month and I lost my air transport.”

“Certainly I can, Mr. Ross, as a favor to you. I don’t have a license to fly passengers but I can take you. Give me a few minutes to prep the aircraft and we’ll be on our way.” At the same time he was thinking, if I get a lot of these I’ll need a faster, bigger capacity aircraft and a license. He tucked the idea in the back of his mind. If he couldn’t fly for Northwest, he could fly for himself.

“Thank you, young man,” Ross said. “And by the way, Mrs. Ross and I are very pleased that you are seeing Betty. We were never impressed with her husband. I don’t know why the bank hired such a scoundrel. They did so over my head. The truth will out. It always does.”

“Thank you, sir. Betty is a wonderful young woman. She should be here in a few minutes. Please have a seat in the ready room and we’ll be all set ready to go in a few minutes.”

***

Otto made the trip in record time with a tailwind and spent the two hours Ross was gone looking around the airport. He studied the bulletin board in the pilots’ lounge and saw a notice for an auction of war surplus aircraft the next month. Some of the aircraft listed, especially the Beechcraft twins, seemed to be ideal for his purposes. He made a note of the date and time and a mental note to talk to Mata and Betty about his plans.

Mr. Ross appeared promptly at the time he had promised. Otto helped him into the J-5 and they were ready to return. “Did your meeting go well, sir?” he asked Ross.

“Very well, Otto, thank you.” He looked thoughtful. “I have a series of meetings coming up and would like for you to fly me to them if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll be glad to,” Otto replied. “I’ve decided to start an air taxi business once I do all the paperwork and acquire some bigger, more powerful aircraft.”

Ross clapped him on the back. “Splendid! And if you need financing, you know where to come. We’ll offer you our best rates on a loan.”

“Thank you, sir; that’s very generous. I’ll talk to Mata and Betty about it and keep you informed. In the meantime we can continue to use the Cub. But I think you’ll like the Beechcraft once we get them.”

The flight back was uneventful and they arrived back in Pioneer Lake mid-afternoon. Betty came out to greet them as Otto taxied up.

She kissed her father on the cheek as he got out. “Daddy! So good to see you! I got Otto’s note about your trip. I hope it went well.”

“It went swimmingly,” Ross returned. “And your young man has a sound idea for a business flying people around. I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

James had brought the car back and held the door for Ross as he walked toward the car. He waved to Otto and Betty. “Next Tuesday, same time, Otto. Good-bye for now.” He got in and the car drove off.

Betty took Otto’s arm as they walked to the office. “So tell me about this business idea. I want to hear all about it.”

“I’d rather wait until Mata can hear all the details. How about if you come over about six tonight and have dinner with us?”

“You haven’t been to my house for a while. What if you and Mata come for dinner? I’ll fix it myself since Mama and Daddy are using James and Sarah now. Just one person doesn’t need a butler
and
a maid.”