A Not So Ordinary Day
Shelley J Alongi

 

The heat was stifling on that July day as Andrew flew a C172 solo ILS approach to his home airport. Having received the wind direction, traffic flow, and preferred runway for his home airport from the Automated terminal Information Service, he received clearence to land from the tower. He entered the pattern downwind at the proper forty-five degree angle and scanned the sky for traffic. As he was about to turn on base leg, suddenly dizzy, Andrew keyed the michrophone and informed everyone listening on the frequency that he wasn�t feeling well.

�Keep an eye on me.�

The three pilots behind him shuddered and scanned the sky for possible eratic behavior. They all heard as the tower responded by confirming that altitude and landing gear appeared normal. Andrew desperately kept his eyes and ears open, holding his rising discomfort at bay, pushing himself to concentrate on not causing a midair colision. Finally, his turn came to land and he touched down and proceeded to the taxiway and up to the tie-down ramp. He clicked off the key, made sure all the master switches were in their proper positions, and climbed out of the plane. The pilot who had landed before him lagged behind coming to meet him.

�Hello, are you alright there?�

�No, not really; thank God that�s over.�

Andrew�s hands were unsteady as he went to the front of the plane and prepared to connect the chains that tied down the plane. The other pilot came to the other side of the plane, helping Andrew complete the task.

�Here, let me help. My name is Alex. I�m just passing through here on a refueling stop and I caught the desperate sound of your transmission and decided to wait till I saw you bring your plane up to the ramp to see if I could help. If you can wait I�ll walk back with you; make sure you get inside. You feeling okay? You don�t look good.�

The out-of-town pilot caught John Foster�s attention as he came with Andrew into the office. Seeing that John, who was carrying on a conversation with someone on the other end of the line had seen his pilot enter the room, he slipped quietly away to take care of refueling his plane. He hoped the man he had just helped would be alright.

�Wow, that was close,� said John to Andrew, coming from behind his desk after finishing his conversation with a student pilot, �we thought you might stall traffic out their give some pilots a run for their money. You certainly gave us a run for ours.� He suddenly
Looked sympathetic as Andrew shivered. �I�ll call Annie. You go lie down in the back I�ll kick those two student pilots out of there. One�s waiting for
a plane, one�s waiting for a lesson.�

They went back to the office, where a concerned Elizabeth Cross met them.

�Oh, Andrew, you know Michael�s scheduled to fly out of here tomorrow with you. He�s going to miss that.�

Andrew acknowledged her and shook his head sadly before taking his boss�s advice and lying down with his head slightly propped up on the tattered pillow.

�What�s wrong?� she asked, abandoning her accounting books and coming to stand by him.

�Not really sure,� he said, rubbing his temples, �had a sick passenger a few days ago. I�ve got a nasty headache and I�m kind of dizzy. I�ve got chills. I�m just not myself.� Guess it�s
My turn!�

Beth saw his discomfort.

�Do you think you can take some medicine? I have some Tylenol. I have kids; we always have to be prepared.
I�ll stay here with you till Anne gets here.�

Andrew had just taken the proffered tablets out of her hand when a sudden commotion from the front brought them up short. Beth ran out of the room to the
Front to see a very worried pilot sitting on the chair with his hand to his head. A fire truck and paramedics streamed out to the runway.

�This man,� said John Foster, pointing to the pilot, �stopped here to refuel the plane! In fact, he brought Andrew in to the office after he asked for help on final approach. Well, he refuels his Piper Seneca and can�t start the plane, so he hand props it.� John sighed. �Not a good idea! All he got was a nasty bump on the head from the stabilizer as the plane got away from him.�

Looking out of the office windows, they could see the fireball that had been the plane and the rising black smoke and fire crews putting out the flames.

John shook his head again, looking at the chagrinned pilot, �I�ve got a sick pilot and an injured one today,� he said, clearly disgusted, �what is this,
A hospital ward? This is supposed to be an airport office. Good God, what a day!"

General aviation could be plagued with tediously ordinary days, and perhaps those were the best, but then there were days that just flew off the charts.
The place quieted down, the airport crew cleaned up the destroyed plane, treated the injured pilot, told him to get some rest. The air conditioner cooled
The office and the heat baked the runway and the planes sitting outside. A few people came in and rented space for the hangars.

John was on the phone again when Anne came in to
The office. He looked worried. She waited for him to direct his attention to her.

�John I�m glad you have my cell number. I basically just went into the office and told the principal to find someone to take my class because I had to go get Andrew. I figured since it was you on the line I better just get down here!� She pointed out the
Window, dropping her purse onto a chair. �What the heck was going on out there? Looks like someone hit the fence.�

�Hand propping.� responded John, shortly, �plane got away from the pilot.�

�Oh, no,� she said in horror, understanding the seriousness of the accident. �It wasn�t Andrew�s plane, was it?�

�No,� said the man, sighing, �Andrew knows better than to hand prop. If Andrew has a problem it�s usually like this one; unexpected in-flight stuff, not
This kind of nonsense!�

�Where is he, John?� Anne tried to redirect John�s focus to her husband�s situation.

�Oh, I�m sorry Annie. Andrew�s in the back room, resting; Beth is keeping an eye on him.� Anne turned
To leave, but John gestured for her to wait. �Annie, that was Michael on the phone. He called Beth on her cell phone so she knows already that their car broke down and he doesn�t know when he can get it out of the shop. Beth�s kind of stranded. I tell you, what a day. If it wouldn�t be
a problem, if Andrew is up for it, could you drop her at home?�

Anne nodded.

�You bet. Always happy to help. That�s one trouble taken care of. Andrew won�t mind. Besides,� she smiled, �I�m driving!�

Anne went to the back part of the office. Her husband lay quietly, his face flushed. She came to him and tousled his hair.

�Oh, Andrew,� she said, trying to make him feel better, �what have you done! John is frazzled. He called me at school. They�ll just have to have session
Without me.�

She saw Andrew�s tentative smile as she turned to acknowledge Beth who had gotten up to meet her.

�Thanks for staying with him, Beth. John told me your husband called and said he was having car trouble. You�re actually on our way back to Corona, so we
Can drop you off on our way home.�

Beth looked a bit unsure, she hesitated a moment.

�I understand it has been quite a day around here,� Anne said, smiling easily at her, �we can drop you off if you don�t mind being in the same car with
Andrew running a temperature.�

�It�s not that,� said Beth, �we have two children; we�re used to unexpected illness; it�s just that I wouldn�t want to impose. I know Andrew probably just
Wants to get home.�

�You�re on our way home,� Anne reassured, �Andrew doesn�t mind, do you?�

Andrew was sitting up now, preparing to leave. He nodded.

�No trouble at all; if I were driving I�d offer to do it; besides you don�t want to wait around here, it�s too hot. Just come with us, beth.�

The hurly burly had died down and now the cool, small, cramped office with it�s few plastic chairs, water cooler and coffeepot seemed a haven to the worried
Owner. John went back behind his desk after pouring himself a cup of the strong, black liquid that sustained him. Anne stopped to talk to him on her way out to get the car.

�Man,� he commented, �some days are just nuts. That was a $140,000 plane. I don�t� know why that guy thought he could do that! He�s going to have a headache
For a few days. Speaking of headaches, tell Andrew I�m upset with him for getting sick on me. I have the most stress-ridden passengers coming in tomorrow!
I need your husband�s superior patience!�

�Who is coming in tomorrow?�

John looked up in surprise to see that Andrew now stood before him. The medicine had broken the fever, temporarily holding his flu symptoms at bay, but
He was in no mood for flying a plane.

�The Anderson�s,� said the owner of the ABC Charter company, dejected, at least relieved to see his best pilot on his feet.

�Oh, dear,� Andrew sighed, �I remember them too well. Just give that flight to Eric.�

�Eric�s on vacation,� said the exasperated owner of the company, �he won�t be back for another week. Those guys are too much.�

�I know all about them,� said Andrew who could feel some type of sympathy for his overworked boss. �They always want to fly down to Arizona for a court
Case. They�re always sick or in a hurry; running late or worried about running late. Why don�t they just rent a car?� asked the pilot who usually took
This flight.

�I don�t know,� said John in utter defeat, reaching into a bowl of hard candy for solace, �this is just a nasty day; a wrecked plane, you out of commission,
104 degrees outside. Well, don�t stand around listening to me wine, Andrew; get home and take your medicine so you can get back here and save this place
From utter destruction! This place is going to fall apart without you!� He looked frantically from the pilot to his wife. �Who�s taking Beth?�

�We�ve got Beth,� said Andrew�s wife, a bit amused at John�s stress level. �John, you need a break.�

�I know and one of my flight instructors just called and he�s out of commission; he said he was injured while rock climbing�oh never mind, get out of here.
I�ll worry about him and the Anderson case and the messed up fence. God that was a nice Seneca. Why the hell did he have to do that?�

�Was he a low time pilot?� asked Andrew.

�No!� John put his hands together in frustration. �That�s what�s annoying. A low time pilot I would expect that from; not this
Guy.�

Andrew sat down in the chair with his logbook. Anne went out to get the car and turn on the air. Beth had disappeared into the back room to get her purse.
Andrew coughed. John looked up.

�Sorry, Andrew,� he said contritely, �I shouldn�t worry you with all this. Don�t worry about that logbook now I can do it for you. I�ll go look at the gages.
Stop being so damn responsible and just go home.�

�Hey,� said Andrew quietly chuckling, �easy there. Everything�s going to be fine. My hands aren�t too steady anyway.� Something pierced Andrew�s fever-impaired brain. �Is George coming in tomorrow?� he asked, marking the page in his log book and handing it to his friend. �He�ll take the Anderson�s. He�ll be fine with them.�

�Your new ATP rated guy?� John suddenly looked relieved. �Oh, leave it to you to fix everything! Where�s his number!�

�Where we always store those things, John,� he said, half-smiling, �in that top drawer. George is meticulous about having sectional charts; just call him
Before you leave today and he�ll come in and take care of that.�

Andrew suddenly felt exhausted, his head required immediate attention. �Man I am sick; who the hell gave me this!�

�I don�t know,� said John coming from behind his desk, clasping his pilot�s hand in greatful relief as Anne returned and Beth came from the back, �at least it wasn�t
The Anderson�s.� He suddenly looked hopeful. �Go on, get out of here! You have my permission to crash and burn now; you�ve just made my life a lot easier!�

      

 

 

Copyright © 2003 Shelley J Alongi
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"