Mitla Pass - Leon Uris [167]
“Gideon?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m going to change the pitch of the propeller so that the engine makes the least amount of noise. When I do that, it may sound as if the engine is sputtering, but it’s quite normal. Do you understand?”
“I’ve got it.”
“We’re almost there, son.”
“Where?”
“Heaven.”
Miss Abigail found the darkest part of the sky and settled Jenny into a huge circular pattern and slowed her down to a glide.
“Now! Open your canopy!”
Hands trembling, Gideon unlocked and slid the glass cover forward.
“Look up, son! Look up!”
Gideon, Miss Abigail, and Jenny seemed to be one and the same, flirting like a dolphin among a trillion lights, blinking, taunting, beckoning, and then a trillion more. Here and there bolides and shooting stars and comets rocketed by to what almost seemed touching distance, some for a blink of a second, some with showy flashes that made him gasp.
Round and round Jenny played, a darling little elf poking around in an infinity of splendor. But all they could really have was a peek, a tease. Take me higher! Can’t we stay forever, Gideon thought. He felt as though he could step out of the plane and hurl himself outward and catch the tail of a flamer and hang on.
But nothing is forever, especially a gas tank. Well, maybe he could freeze this time into memory and live it again and again, nothing is forever.
He slid the canopy shut and sat stunned as Miss Abigail revved up the little bird and they rejoined the earth ... and Communist rallies ... and redneck Jew-baiters ... and wheezing for breath when Momma crushed him in her arms ... and Dad ripping up the Sunday Hearst paper that Molly had brought home.
When they landed, the field was ghostly. Clarence and Jeremy were gone and Miss Abigail eased the plane into the hangar. Gideon went to the lockers and changed and met her in the rickety office, where she had fixed some hot chocolate, which sent shock waves of wonderful warmth through him, even though he was allergic to it.
“Do you know why I took you up there?” she said.
“I think so.”
“Why?”
“It embarrasses me,” he said.
“No, go on and tell me.”
“You took me up there because you think I’m one of those comets. Because ... because ...”
“What, Gideon?”
“You want me to know what it’s like to live up there.”
“You’re pretty smart for a writer,” she said. “You’re going to have to be very tough to get through. And you’re going to have to take a lot of pain.”
“I know,” he said, “but I can’t help myself.”
She filled his cup from the pot on the hot plate. “I’m going to Spain with my brother to fight for the Loyalists.”
They did not speak for a time.
“I’m not going to Spain as a Communist. I’ve quit the Party. I’m going as an American. You see, the people of Spain have voted for a democracy and the Fascists are trying to destroy that. There is a strong Communist Party in Spain, in the government, but that doesn’t mean Spain will go Communist. It means there is a chance for a democracy with the Communists as one of many parties. The French and the British are afraid that the Communists will take over if democracy wins. So they are acting neutral. That means they’ve let the floodgates open for Hitler and Mussolini to help the Fascists.”
“I understand all that,” Gideon said.
“If Franco and the Fascists win in Spain, it will lead to another world war. A war in which you will probably have to fight. We have to stop them now. It must remain another of our secrets, Gideon, but I have to go. I’ll write to you as soon as I can.”
The boy shook his head.
“Let me drive you home,” she said.
“No, ma’am, I’d like to walk for a while. I’ll always remember my sixth grade, Miss Abigail. And when I write something worth publishing, I’m going to dedicate it to you.”
“Gideon ... Gideon ...”
“I love you, Miss Abigail,” the boy cried and ran from the shed.
MOLLY WAS MOSTLY seeing one boyfriend, Danny Shapiro. Danny worked in his father’s grocery store. It was a small neighborhood store with groaning, sagging wooden