Honor blinked at him. “A flying lesson?” she finally repeated weakly.
“You’re going to love it,” he assured her, gaining enthusiasm rapidly as he talked. “It’s a whole different world when you’re at the controls of an airplane. And I flying is something we can do together.”
Together. Honor rolled the word around in her head. What was Judd trying to do? Was flying his idea of[_ _]fun? Was he trying to extend to her the bridge of mutual play that she had once extended to him? If that was the case, Honor realized, she didn’t have the heart to turn him down. It was very clear to her that this man had almost no experience at playing with another human being. But she also wasn’t at all sure a flying lesson was the proper way for him to begin. She remembered her first driving lesson. It had not been fun.
Having made up his mind, however, Judd was not about to be dissuaded. Immediately after breakfast Honor found herself being driven back out to the small airport where they had landed the previous evening. This morning she noticed a few other small planes tied down near the old hangar and there were half a dozen men hanging around.
They greeted Judd as he arrived with Honor in tow. He nodded familiarly but made no effort to pause long enough to introduce Honor. Instead he got right to the business of refueling the Cessna and Honor found herself obliged to follow every step he made. Her lesson, it seemed, was going to begin on the ground.
By the time she had been walked through the pre-flight check of the aircraft and found herself strapped into the pilot’s seat, her head was already spinning with the number of complex instruments, facts and details Judd was blithely explaining.
“Are you sure I should start off in the pilot’s seat?” she asked as he got in on the passenger side.
“Sure. I’ve got a duplicate set of controls over here. Don’t worry. Now at a small airport like this where there is no control tower we all use one frequency on the radio. Every pilot approaching or leaving the airport announces his location so others will know where to look for him in the sky. Okay, here you go. Here’s the key.”
He handed it to her as if handing her the keys to a treasure chest. Honor took it gingerly, feeling more apprehensive by the minute. “Aren’t I going to just sort of sit here and watch?”
“Nope. You’re going to fly us right off the runway. Don’t worry, it’s a cinch. This baby practically takes off by itself.”
“Uh-huh. Look,Judd—”
“Over there is the master switch,” he interrupted, and went on from there to give her a brief resume of the takeoff procedure. As he lectured, Honor’s palms began to grow damp; the checked shirt was already beginning to cling to her skin.
The next thing she knew she was actually guiding the Cessna out onto the taxiway. The plane didn’t seem to want to go in a straight line.
“A tailwheel plane is a little hard to steer on the ground,” Judd said firmly. “You have to correct for the torque of the engine. [_You do it with the rudder pedals,” _]he added quickly, his voice hardening. An instant later he, himself, hit the rudder pedals on his side of the aircraft to straighten out the weaving Cessna. Honor wasn’t certain but she thought the action was accompanied by a muffled oath. Her palms grew damper as she gripped the steering yoke.
Then she was at the end of the runway, pointing into the wind. Nervously she followed Judd’s crisp directions, opening the throttle until the little craft was racing down the pavement She was dimly aware of the fact that Judd was having to continue using the rudder to keep the Cessna in a straight line and then, before she quite realized it, the plane was off the ground.
The ease with which it all happened took her by surprise. Before she could adjust to being in flight Judd was calling out directions. His voice became harder and grimmer as the seconds ticked past
“Get the nose down! We’re not doing aerobatics out here! Watch the rate-of-climb indicator. We only want to go up at about eight hundred feet per minute. You’ll stall out if you go up too fast”
Which one of the many instruments was the rate-of-climb indicator? She’d forgotten already. Honor was searching frantically for it when Judd interrupted roughly. “Okay, now start your turn. [_Like this.” _]He grabbed the controls and corrected for her too-rapid maneuver. Again she thought she heard another stifled swear word. When the turn was completed and they were flying toward the distant mountains, he released the controls again.
Just as Honor nervously took them over the radio chattered. “What’s that?” she demanded.
“Another pilot telling us he’s a couple of miles from the field. A Piper Cherokee. See? He’s at three o’clock.”
Honor stared blankly around, wondering which direction was three o’clock. “No, I don’t see him. Judd, is he close to us?” Vivid images of midair collisions assailed her. “Where is he?”
“At three o’clock,” Judd repeated impatiently. “Over there. For crying out loud, Honor, can’t you see him?”
“That little white speck?”
“Yes, damn it. Hey, keep the wings level!”
“It’s hard to tell what’s level up here in the air,” she protested.
“Then take a look at the artificial horizon,” he ordered, tapping the glass face of another instrument. “What in hell do you think it’s for?”
“How should I know? Judd, maybe you’d better take over….”
“No, by God. You’re going to learn to fly this thing if it kills me. Okay, level off, we’re high enough. Not so fast! Ease off on the throttle. We don’t need all that power to fly straight and level. Slowly, Honor, [_slowly. _]Don’t yank the throttle out like that.”
The plane suddenly seemed to sink several feet in the sky. Honor panicked. “What was that? What happened?”
“Just a little turbulence. Nothing to worry about. Now, see that peak over there? Try flying toward it Remember, keep the wings level. What the devil? Honor, the airspeed’s disintegrating. It’s going to hell! Get the nose down, you idiot, or we’ll stall. For God’s sake, can’t you feel that shudder? That’s the first warning of a stall. [_Get the damned nose down!” _]He grabbed the controls again and eased the plane back into a level altitude.
“I don’t know about this, Judd…”
“Don’t steer with the rudder pedals,” he growled.
“You did on the ground!”