Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot
Steve and I are sitting on the floor in Cleveland-Hopkins International, waiting for a van to bring us to Detroit. I've never been here. It looks like every other airport baggage claim in the world.
We meet Arv. We saw him last night in Cincinnati. He is also trying to get to Detroit. The three of us have been sitting on the floor for some time now talking about Boston and people walking by. An older man approaches us.
"Can I get an M from the choir?" he inquires, trying to inspire a Christmas sing-a-long.
No one budges.
"Hey, who wants to learn how to fly?" he asks.
The three of us look at each other. Does he mean right now? Have they run out of pilots to transport people this holiday season? Is he senile? Does he want to kidnap us and hide us in some secret sector deep in the center of the airport?
"I do! I want to learn to fly," Arv announces, taking the bait.
The old man pulls his fist out of his pocket and reveals three pins. He passes one to each of us. The pins read, "Future Pilot." Sweet. He tells us that if we bring it to an AOPA flight school, we will be taken up in a plane that same day and the pilot will let us take control of the aircraft for a few minutes. No. Freakin. Way.
The old man seduces us with stories from flights he'd taken in previous years. He told us of the time he took his wife up in a plane and did a barrel roll and scared her to death.
As he told us about the time he almost flew into a sign, I noticed a pin on his bright yellow blazer that read, "volunteer." I was happy for the distraction.
Arv wore his pin home. Steve gave me his.
I need to find an airport and get some lessons so I can start announcing with authority, "This is your captain, Maria, speaking. Buckle up. We're in for a bumpy ride."
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