The Blue Between the Clouds (4 page)

“Sure,” said Jimmy Kranz. “You gonna sneak outta here and leave us waitin'.”

“When I say I'm gonna do somethin', I do it,” I said to Jimmy. “You don't go round front and wait, you'll never see daylight again.”

Jimmy knew I was serious. He's kind of a mouthy kid. Never can back up what he says, but always got somethin' to say.

Anyway, they all went out front and me and Two Moons went into the barn. There was just enough sun pushin' its way through the slats to give us some light. The wings were hung on long rails that leaned against the wall. The wings were smaller than we remembered. We touched the feathers and wax softly, like we would if we were touching a live bird. It made me kind of goose pimply.

“Who's first?” Two Moons asked.

Now, usually I would have demanded to go first. It was my barn, my house. But Two Moons and me were like brothers, and besides, those wings seemed to shrink a little each time I looked at them.

“We'll draw straws,” I said. “Short one flies.”

Two Moons nodded.

I found two pieces of straw and turned my back to put them in my hand.

Two Moons drew. I showed him my straw. His was shorter.

We hauled the wings up into the loft and opened the loadin' window. It was almost a surprise to see half the school sittin' below us. Jimmy Kranz was right up front. I waved. They waved back.

“You know,” I said to Two Moons, “I think we ought to get Esther for what she done to us.”

“Yeah,” said Two Moons. “I think this would be a good time.”

Two Moons scampered down the ladder and headed for the chicken coop. I knew he had somethin' in mind, so I tried to keep the attention on our flight. The loft looked awful high from where I was. I kicked a few bales of hay out just in case Two Moons didn't work the wings right. The bales broke open on the ground with a heavy thump.

“You tryin' to kill me!” shouted Jimmy Kranz.

“Not yet,” I said.

Two Moons climbed back up the ladder with three eggs in his hand. He handed them to me and put on the wings. I helped him tie the last few straps.

“You're not going to be able to get much of a run,” I said. “Them wings won't fit through the door.”

“I know,” said Two Moons. “I figure I can open the wings up once I get into the air. That way I can build up some speed. Hit Esther with the eggs as soon as I take flight. That way, I can swoop down and fend her off if I have to.”

“Okay,” I said. “Just don't get too close to the sun once you get flyin' around.”

Two Moons nodded. I think he had forgotten all about Icarus. He stared at the openin' in the barn and said a short prayer to the spirits of the sky. It was dark where we were standin' and the light of the great outside poured through the openin' like a giant staircase rolled out from heaven. Two Moons held his arms straight, feelin' the wingspan. Then he pulled his arms behind him so the wings looked like a long tail. I looked down at Esther, and she was talkin' to Jimmy. I couldn't resist, I dropped the eggs one at a time like I was droppin' bombs from a plane. They landed right on the top of her head. Before she could even scream, Two Moons was off. He was runnin' as fast as he could toward the sun, toward that giant staircase of light. He burst from the barn like a high diver, arched back, legs straight. He hung there for a split second, then gracefully opened the wings like a giant eagle.

That's how I'll always remember that day. Two Moons in midair. The wind rushin' over the wings. His back was arched, his face starin' up at Heaven waitin' for it to open up like the Red Sea. Too bad it was such a short flight. The wings held the air for only a moment. Then Two Moons dropped like a pheasant full of buckshot. He spiraled to his left like he was caught in a whirlpool, then crashed on the hay bales below.

I clambered as fast as I could down the ladder and out to where Two Moons lay. He was quiet like, but he was still smilin'. Everybody was around him, and I had to push my way in. Esther couldn't decide whether to kill us or help Two Moons. She had egg drippin' down her face and one big eggshell on her shoulder. She looked at me with her eyes as tiny as slits in a pumpkin, then she bent over Two Moons.

“There ain't nothin' like flyin',” Two Moons said.

“Ha, that ain't flyin',” said Jimmy Kranz. “That's more like fallin'.”

I guess Jimmy figured Esther was so busy with Two Moons, she couldn't possibly get in a good punch. He was wrong. Esther slugged Jimmy so hard in the stomach, he turned all pale and looked in worse shape than Two Moons.

“I think my arm is broke,” Two Moons said.

Just then, a flock of birds behind the barn flew up with a start. We thought the world was about to end. But it was only Emmett, shooin' them away with an umbrella and watchin' them fly off. He was standin' there like a kid in a summer storm, feelin' the warm rain and laughin'.

We sent all the kids back to school and laid Two Moons down on the couch in the parlor until the doctor came. There wasn't any blood, so Ma had most of her senses. She stormed around the kitchen and the pantry gettin' ice and pillows for Two Moons. All the while she was tellin' Esther and me how foolish we'd been. She must've been real mad 'cause she started quotin' the Bible, and she only does that on Sundays or when she's mighty steamed. She told us how we were no better than Joseph's brothers who sold him into Egypt.

“You just wait,” she said. “Two Moons here will grow to be a mighty human being. He'll stand righteous above you two and be able to squash you with the palm of his hand. But you know what? He won't. He'll love you just the same and stand over you while the two of you waller in shame. How dare you make a fool of him!”

Two Moons just lay there on the couch. He was feelin' some awful pain. I stared at him and he got all blurry. The couch was movin' and my head was poundin'. Two Moons was all pale, like he was dyin'. I sat down on the floor and put my face in my hands. I couldn't stand it. I tried as hard as I could, but I couldn't keep myself from cryin'.

Well, the doctor came over and put a dandy cast on Two Moons' arm. Pa said he ought to send the two of us to war, to fight for the enemy. “That'd give America the advantage for sure,” he said. Then he laughed and laughed.

Of all the folks come over the next day I think Miss Alexander looked the saddest. She heard the whole story, and I think she felt responsible. After all, it was her that told us the story of Icarus and gave us the idea to build some wings. None of us blamed her much, except for Esther. She told the whole town Miss Alexander broke Two Moons' arm. Nobody believed her, of course. But Miss Alexander did bring Two Moons a pie every day for a week.

“Think I should break my other arm?” Two Moons asked, half smilin'. But I didn't answer him. I was on my way out to the barn to sit with my wings one last time before Pa threw them out.

5

OLD MAN HAWKINS

Funny how some ideas never leave your head. After Two Moons broke his arm, I was awake most of the night. I still couldn't get flyin' out of my head. I had a dream when I first went to sleep. You know, one of those dreams that you never forget, and it only lasts about a minute. I was flyin' over the fields, just circlin' around gettin' a good look, when I noticed I was far from home. I could see some folks down below me, a family in a truck with a busted axle. But I couldn't get down to help them. There was a boy about my age. He kept wavin' his arms for help, but I just kept circlin' like a hawk. I don't know why I didn't stop to help them. I woke up and sat on my windowsill for most of the night. It's up high, above the parlor, and I dragged my blanket there and watched the stars. I thought about bein' as old as my pa and diggin' in the black mine every day. I thought about Two Moons leavin' me here by myself. I was all alone, like Icarus on the island. I stood up and stretched the blanket between my arms like giant wings. The wind filled the blanket with air and, for a moment, I thought I could fly away forever.

The next morning I told Pa about my dream. He said I must've got hit on the head pretty hard.

“I want to fly, Pa,” I said.

“What for?” Pa said.

“I just do. Somethin' inside me wants to push me out of a high tree, let me drop sharp like a hawk, then swoop back up into the clouds.”

“Why don't you come with me to the hardware store, son?” he said.

“Sure, Pa,” I said.

Pa's hands were big and black from the mines. He grabbed me by the front of the overalls and hoisted me up to his grimy face.

“How is that head, anyway?” he asked.

“It's fine, Pa,” I said. “Just a scratch in the wrong place, so it bled a lot.”

“That's what I thought,” Pa said. “How 'bout Two Moons?”

“He's all right.”

We went out to the truck, and when Pa didn't throw any rope in the back, I knew he wasn't goin' to the hardware store to buy anything. He was just goin'. Maybe we were goin' to get some pop together, I thought. But I didn't say nothin'. Pa don't like people to ask. He likes to give before they think of it.

“Did you and Emmett ever fly together, Pa?” I asked.

“You still got wings in your head, boy?”

“I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Pa started. “Emmett and I flew together one time. We were on reconnaissance. That means we were just scoutin' out the area, not lookin' for a fight. Well, we ran into a couple of Fokkers. They snuck up from behind and shot my tail rudder off. I went into a half spin and pulled up enough to get her into the drink. While I was swimmin' to shore, Emmett was chasin' down the Fokkers. Most amazin' flyin' I have ever seen. He flew under bridges, trimmed haystacks, went into barrels so tight he was eatin' his own exhaust.”

Pa was grippin' the steering wheel hard. He kind of squinted his eyes like the wind was burnin' them.

“When it was over, the Fokkers were two piles of flames in the distance and Emmett was landin' in a field by the river to pick me up. I sat on the plane like it was a bronc and rode it all the way back to base, holdin' on to the back of Emmett's coat.”

“That's how he got the Purple Heart?”

“Yeah, it is. That was also the last day he flew.”

“Why?”

“For God or country, Emmett just couldn't stand to take another life. Somethin' about Emmett that won't let him kill. That day on the river, he knew he had to kill those Fokkers in order to save me. I think he also knew what he was givin' up. Everybody got ties that hold 'em to this earth. Emmett cut his when he went against his nature. Remember that, son. Remember that you got a self that needs listenin' to; follow it no matter what it says.”

“Okay, Pa,” I said.

We got to the hardware store and Jeb Davis was out front. Pa talked to Jeb for a while, then he bought me a pop. I knew he would.

Then old man Hawkins came by. He stood with Pa for a moment, all bent over and lookin' up at him with his head to one side and his neck crooked. Old man Hawkins is the grumpiest man alive. I ain't seen him smile even once. I figure that's why his son left after the war. Most boys that got a dad with farm needs stick around. I guess Terrence couldn't stand it, so he moved away. He wasn't much of a soldier anyway, so they say. He was a journalist and went to Europe to write about the war, not fight in it. Anyway, it wouldn't matter on the farm, long as he had a strong back. Maybe it's all them chores alone that make old man Hawkins so grumpy and bent.

Well, I didn't want to get close to Hawkins. Not that I was scared. He just reminds me of a bulldog—scowlin', and breathin' that slobbery, stinky breath. He's got a way of makin' you stand at a distance. So I did. I pretended to be lookin' at the ax handles while I drew pictures of airplanes on the dirty window.

“Well, I'm not in the haulin' business, you know that,” I heard Pa say.

“I ain't lookin' for a week's worth of labor,” said Hawkins. “There's a barn full of his junk back there he ain't gonna come back for. Like to put my truck in that barn out of the weather.”

“We'll come take a look at it,” said Pa. “One pickup load?”

“Just one,” said old man Hawkins.

Pa turned to me then with a smile as big as Christmas morning.

“Come on, son,” he said. “Let's go see what ol' Hawkins got in his barn.”

I tried to be excited, but fact is, I wasn't payin' attention when Pa was talkin' to old man Hawkins so I didn't know what to get excited about. Miss Alexander at the school told me once that if I didn't learn to pay attention, it was gonna get me in trouble one day. Well, it did. I had to sit in that truck with my father while he whistled the happiest Benny Goodman song he knew. I had to try to be as excited as a new pup, but I had no idea what we were gonna do. What could Hawkins possibly have in his barn that Pa could be so happy over?

That's the longest three miles I ever spent with my father. The second-longest ride was when Pa hauled me down to Lizabeth Wilson's to pay for three pumpkins I stole. Anyway, that's another story.

I was relieved when we got to Hawkins' place. My mouth hurt from so much smilin'. Pa backed the truck up to the barn and old man Hawkins was there to open the doors. I jumped out of the truck and ran, knowin' that was probably what I would do if I really was excited. When I got inside the barn, I could hardly believe my eyes. Starin' right at me, big as life, was the front end of a World War I fighter plane. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. As I walked around it I noticed it had no back half or wings. But I didn't care. I ran my hand along her propeller, felt the holes in the canvas where bullets had ripped her side. I reached up and felt the leather linin' of the cockpit. Pa came up behind me and hoisted me by the armpits. I climbed into the pilot's seat and three field mice scampered out from under the seat. Slowly I felt the stick. Moved it back and forth, side to side. I was climbin' above the clouds, circlin' higher, then divin' back to earth in graceful arcs like an eagle. The wind rushed through my hair, watered my eyes. I was in love. For the first time in my life I was really in love.