Fly Boy (2 page)

I opened the papers to show him the name. His eyes widened in shock as he read. “Robbie, you can’t just—”

“Please,” I said, cutting him off. “It would be better if you called me David. I need to get accustomed to my new name.”

He took a deep breath. He wasn’t happy about this.“
David
, I just—”

“No, that’s wrong … far too formal. How about Dave, or maybe Davie?Yes, that’s it, Davie! You’re my oldest friend, so you’d probably call me Davie!”

He reached across and put a hand on my shoulder.“Robert,” he said very formally, looking me straight in the eyes.“Even if you
did
manage to fool some 4-F recruiting officer with thick glasses and bad eyesight into believing that you’re eighteen, how long do you think it’ll be before your mother finds out that you’re gone?”

“I
am
gone—to boarding school.”

“And she’ll find out soon enough that you’re not there. How long before the headmaster contacts her to ask why you’re not in attendance at school? Do you really think old Beamish is so daft that he won’t notice you’re not there?”

“He knows I’m not there. That was the other business I took care of when I was in Toronto. I went to the school and explained to him that I wouldn’t be able to attend this year
because of financial issues … you know, what with my father being a POW, and things being hard for my mother and all.”

“And he believed you?”

“Well, I think he believed the letter from my mother explaining everything.”

“Your mother wrote a
letter
?”

“Of course not, you idiot! I wrote the letter and forged her signature.”

“I don’t know if that’s insanity or genius,” Chip said.

“They say there’s a fine line between the two, and I hope I’m standing on the right side of it.”

“But what about letters between you and your mother?” he asked. “You know the first time she writes to you—her son who’s in school—she’ll know something is wrong.”

“Aren’t you in charge of the mailroom as part of your punishment for that prank we played on Mr. Henderson?”

“A prank that only I got caught doing and … Oh, I get it, so I can intercept the letters! Is that what you’re saying?”

“Exactly. The headmaster won’t be bothered by what he doesn’t see. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt
me
.”

“But as you might recall, I’m only being punished the first few months of the year. What happens after December?”

“I was sort of hoping you could do something else wrong and get the punishment extended until the end of the school year.”

“You can’t expect me to deliberately try to get into … Wait, that’s probably going to end up happening one way or another, isn’t it?”

“Of course it will. I’m simply counting on you to get in your usual amount of trouble.”

“Without you there, it just won’t have the same magic to
it, but I’ll do my best,” he said with a grin. “Now, that just leaves one problem. What about your letters to your mother? It’s not like you can send letters postmarked from England, and I know she’s not going to let you go a whole school year without writing.”

I reached over and unsnapped my valise and pulled out three envelopes. Each was stamped, addressed to my mother, and contained a letter. I turned one of the envelopes over and opened up the flap.

“You see here, this number I wrote in pencil?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve numbered the letters one, two, and three. You just need to mail them to my mother in that order. One each month for the next three months. Just erase the little number, seal them off, and send them. Each letter talks a little bit about how wonderfully the school year is going, how much I’m enjoying classes, and in October I’m going to be coming down with a cold and will have to miss a rugby game … I’m going to be terribly disappointed.”

“You are definitely moving to the genius side of the line, my friend! But what then? What happens after the third letter is mailed?”

“By then I’ll be in a place where you can send me letters, with her letters to me inside, and I’ll send you back letters with a new letter to her tucked inside that envelope. And of course, in your letters, you’ll give me enough information about school and events that I’ll be able to fill in the details in my letters to her. I think I have all the bases covered.”

“And if Mommy decides to come and pay you a visit? Won’t she be in for a nasty surprise when you’re not there?”

“Chip, my mother hasn’t been able to come to Toronto
since my father enlisted. She’s stuck at home looking after my brother and sisters. She’s lucky if she gets a chance to go over to the neighbour’s for coffee.”

“I guess you have all the bases covered for the school year, but what about in July when you’re supposed to return home?”

“I’m going to be writing my mother throughout the year explaining that if I do extremely well in school, there will be an opportunity for me to stay on during the summer and be a paid tutor for some of the younger students. She’s going to be so proud of me!” I beamed.

“And after that?”

“And after that I’ll be eighteen, and I’ll just tell her I’ve enlisted, and there will be nothing she can do about it. She’ll know I’m in the air force, but she won’t know that I’ve already been there for ten months.”

Chip shook his head slowly and a smile came to his face. “I’m jealous! And I must admit that I’m a little bit hurt that you didn’t bring me in on the plan before this.”

“I’m sorry, Chip. I just didn’t want to drag you too far into this. There’s going to be hell to pay if this gets out, and I didn’t want you to be implicated too deeply. I want you to at least try to plead ignorance.”

“Ignorance has always been my best defence! But you’re right—I know the military needs everyone who can to enlist, but I imagine they’re not very understanding about people enlisting under a false identity. You could be in really big trouble.”

“I’m just hoping that by the time they find out I’ll be such a hotshot ace pilot that they’ll be happy to look the other way, because they need pilots so badly.”

He reached out his hand. “My congratulations, sir. You’ve thought of everything.”

“I tried. Which leaves me with one more favour to ask of you.” I reached into my valise and handed him a fourth envelope. “Inside is a letter from Headmaster Beamish confirming for the air force that I’ve completed my junior matriculation, graduating with both high honours and distinction.”

Chip opened the envelope and took out the letter. It was typed and had the headmaster’s signature at the bottom. “This is official school stationery. How did you get this?” Chip asked.

“This summer when I was in Beamish’s office and told him I wasn’t returning to school, I got rather choked up. He turned to get me a handkerchief, and when he wasn’t looking, I pinched a couple of sheets.”

“I think you’re wasting your time wanting to be a pilot. You should be a secret agent.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Just pop it in the mail so it’s clear from the postmark that it was sent from the school. Okay?”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help out. You can count on me.”

“More than anybody else I know. You’re a good friend,” I said.

“And at the end of the year,” Chip replied, “when I turn eighteen and enlist, maybe we’ll even end up in the same unit.”

“That could happen. Of course, I don’t know if we could be friends,” I said.

“What do you mean?” He looked a bit shocked.

“Well, by then I’ll be a full-fledged ace, and you’ll just be a
sprog
.”

“Sprog … What’s a sprog?”

“New pilot, fresh out of training, wet behind the ears, with no combat missions to your credit!”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’ll still be a sprog who’s big enough to box your ears!” Chip growled.

“Oh, sure! Try hitting a superior officer and see where that gets you! Time in the can and—”

“Next stop, Union Station!” the conductor announced as he walked down the aisle of the car. “Next stop, Union Station, Toronto!”

“That’s our—I mean,
my
stop,” Chip said. “I wish we had more time to talk.”

“We do have a little more time. I’m getting off here too,” I said.

“Your training is in Toronto?”

“Not my training, my
train
. I have to meet up with the rest of the fellows who’ve enlisted and catch the train from here. You can walk me to my platform.”

The train shuddered and then came to a stop. We both got up and shuffled down the aisle along with everybody else, dragging our luggage with us. I’d been told not to bring much with me, just what I could fit in my valise, but Chip had everything he’d need for a year at boarding school, including his tennis racquet, lacrosse stick, and winter coat and boots.

“My train leaves from platform four in about an hour,” I said.

“Where are you going to?”

“Brandon, Manitoba.”

“Manitoba! I’ve heard about winters on the Prairies. You’re going to freeze to death!”

“Not likely. I’m only there for basic training, about a month, so I’ll be long gone before winter arrives.”

“Long gone to where?”

“That’s the question. I could be assigned to any one of the air training schools across the country, depending on how well I do.”

“What do you mean?” Chip asked.

“Some of the schools are for pilots, others specialize in training navigators, or bomb aimers, or wireless operators.”

“Oh, you’ll be a pilot—no question! You know more about airplanes than anybody I ever met.”

“Knowing about them doesn’t make you a pilot.”

“Yeah, I guess … but I can see you flying … Spitfires, like your father.”

“I can only hope.”

We made our way through the crowds on the platform, jumped down onto the tracks, and crossed over two more sets of tracks to platform four. There were only a few people there—a woman with a child, and an old man at the far side—and none of them looked as if they might be on their way to report for training.

We both tossed our bags up and then climbed up onto the platform.

“You sure you haven’t missed it?” Chip asked.

I looked at my watch. “It’s due in less than thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes … so you still have time to change your mind.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“As far as I can tell, it won’t be too late for thirty-
one
minutes.”

“No. Maybe the train isn’t here yet, but that ship has already sailed. I’ve got a boarding school that isn’t expecting me and a recruiting officer who is. What do you think will happen if David James McWilliams doesn’t report for duty?”

“Not much, I’d guess, since he’s already been dead and buried for eighteen years.”

“But when they do come looking for
him
, they’re going to find
me
, and that’s where the trouble will begin. I have no choice.”

“I guess you’re right. Stand up straighter,” he said, poking me in the side.

I straightened up. “I’ll stand at attention when I need to.”

“You need to all the time. You’re kinda short, you know.”

“Thanks for pointing that out. Real nice.”

“I’m not trying to be nice or not nice. I’m just trying to tell you that you need to stand up, throw back your shoulders, and try to look older.”

“I started to grow a moustache.”

“You what?”

“I started to grow a moustache,” I repeated.

“I don’t see
anything
.”

“See?” I turned my head slightly to the side.

“Oh, yeah … there it is. It should come in good—in about four years.”

“It’s coming. It’s just that I’m fair haired and it’s harder to see.”

“
Impossible
to see without a microscope. Between that peach fuzz and the baby face, you hardly pass for sixteen, let alone eighteen.”

“Lots of people don’t look their ages. I have the papers to
prove
I’m eighteen. Once I grow a moustache, nobody will question me.”

“Forget about growing a moustache—maybe you should just try to grow a few inches taller.”

“That could happen,” I said defensively. “My father told me he wasn’t very big until he hit twenty.”

“Your father?” Chip said. “Your father is big.”

“He’s not that much more than six feet tall.”

“Yeah, but he’s big, you know, lots of muscles, and I can’t imagine he ever had your little baby face, even when he was born.”

“This isn’t the sort of support I was hoping for.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. You just have to understand that
this is all sort of sudden. Thirty minutes ago we’re heading back to boarding school together, and now I’m waiting for you to board a train to go to air school.”

“It does take some getting used to,” I agreed. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I enlisted a whole month ago, but in some ways, it didn’t actually seem real to me until I told you.”

I looked down the platform. It was starting to get more crowded. There were men—some looked not much older than me—either standing on their own or with a girlfriend or wife. Some of them even had kids with them. Those men were a
lot
older than me.

“I’m going to miss you,” Chip said.

“To be honest, I expect I’m going to be too busy to miss
you
very much.”