Neighbors Andrew sat up, hearing someone at the white security screen door. It stood as a barrier between the house and a cool summer morning. He moved slowly and made his way gingerly to the door. Putting his hand on the screen he moved to unlock it. “Hi,” said an older woman with a distinctly southern drawl. “Larry sent me over.” Andrew opened the door, gestured for her to come in. The woman smiled, stepped inside, took a look around and then focused her attention on him. She noted his pallor. “My husband said you woke up with a bad headache. We wondered where you were; your car is here and so we knew you weren’t out flying somewhere; that’s what you do isn’t it?” She didn’t give Andrew a chance to answer, she just continued on in her merry way. “Larry said you were out to prune the roses today for a few minutes but that you went back in right away so I brought you some sinus medication. Headaches aren’t fun, you know.” “No,” he agreed, taking the bottle and wondering if it conformed to FAA regulations. No matter, he wasn’t flying anyway. Anything would help; he didn’t care if it was legal or not. He’d just wait the proper amount of days before calling John and saying he was available. Eric or any of the others could take his flights. “GO lie down,” she continued, not knowing his thoughts had drifted for a moment, “take this and in about four hours take some more and it should help. You call us if you need anything; you know we’re right here.” “I know,” Andrew said, truly appreciative, “I will call you. Thanks for the medicine. When I’m feeling better I’ll go get some and bring this back.” “No,” said the woman emphatically, “you keep that. We had it extra and we know you’re by yourself and sometimes it’s just easier if you don’t have to get out; I’m actually going to the store today, so if you need anything let me know. I can check later on my way out. Anyway if we don’t see you tomorrow or the next day I’ll send Larry over to see if you’re okay.” “Fine,” said Andrew, smiling despite the pain that clamped itself over his forehead and held competitions for severity with the pain behind his eyes; even down into his jaw. “I appreciate it. Thank you.” “You bet,” said Debby Brand, looking sympathetically at him, “Don’t forget to call me.” She walked back down the stairs and turned to see Andrew disappearing into the living room. She shook her head and went back to her house. “That man,” she said to her husband entering their kitchen and pouring a cup of coffee, “needs a wife.” “A wife?” “Yes,” said Debby Brand emphatically. “He’s such a nice man and a good one; he’s so meticulous. I saw that house. It was clean. He must have a made or something. Poor thing he looked like he didn’t feel well; he was just gonna go back and lie down and I bet he could use a good woman about now to help out; just to fetch and carry for him. That headache was nasty.” “Well, I don’t know if he needs a wife,” smiled Larry Brand, who had been married to Debby for thirty years. “but he is a nice enough man; what is he about 33 or something?” “Probably,” she said stirring cream into her cup and getting down a crock pot, “all I know is he needs a wife; that’s all.” Andrew Crance had moved into that house five years earlier after socking enough money away from flight lessons and flights to make a down payment. If he hadn’t lived with his Uncle Ray and Aunt Emily he probably could have not succeeded, but he had had enough stamina to reach his goal and now the two-story house and the gate that so proudly held his rosebushes were firmly in his hand. It was a tight life financially at times, but Andrew Crance had wanted that house and now he had it. His neighbors, Larry and Debby Brand always kept an eye on it and the quiet and focused man who lived there. “I do charter flights,” Andrew had told him once while they both worked on rosebushes. “I’m gone a couple of weeks a month if we’re busy and I teach flight, too.” He had sprinkled some plant food into the soil and eyed the roses for withered leaves before continuing. “I like to be home once in a while, though; I don’t really want to be a big airline pilot. The prop planes are fine with me.” As Debby and Larry had their conversation, Andrew went into the living room and lay back down, pulling a blanket over him. His head hurt and it was cold. He took the medicine and hoped it helped. He lay still, thinking through the pain that clamped itself over his forehead and across his eyes and across his cheeks, “if this kept up he would have to go to the doctor. He would have to tell his Aviation Medical Examiner that he was getting sinus headaches, but, hopefully, he would be fine. He loved his work; it was true what he had told Larry. He had no particular aspirations for being a big airline pilot; let someone else deal with those stresses and seesawing economy. Flight was appealing to him, it was true, but he was happy getting a bird’s eye view of the world from a prop plane. He did fly corporate jets at times but those certainly weren’t in the big leagues with the big commercial airlines. No, Andrew liked his rose garden and his new house and his prop planes. Besides, he thought, as he closed his eyes, there was something rewarding about knowing that his students actually passed their check rides. Now he would lay back and wait for his head to clear up so he could return to his work. He was sure John would miss him. John had reluctantly gotten the news that he would not be working today or even maybe tomorrow. Now that he had taken medication not recommended by the FAA, it would be at least three days. But he could sit here and enjoy the roses and the cool mornings and worry about all that later. A few days later, Andrew stood outside pruning his roses. Larry came up the sidewalk holding his dethorner. “You’re out again,” he said genially. Andrew nodded. “You okay?” “Fine,” he said putting down the trimmers and turning his attention to his neighbor. “Can I borrow that dethorner? Mine is shot.” “Sure,” Andrew said, “I’ve got another one here somewhere. With me being gone so much it’s pretty organized inside but that shed needs some work. I’ll have to work on it before I go back on the line.” “You going back to work?” “Monday,” said the pilot who had been flying for fifteen years. “John couldn’t live without me anymore.” “And I suspect you wanted to get back,” said Larry. “Yeah. Doctor put me on antibiotics and said get some sleep. Picked up some kind of sinus business somewhere. I’m fit now.” “Well,” said Larry, not sure he wanted to inform the pilot of his wife’s opinion, “Debby will be happy to know you’re up.” “Tell her thanks for the potato salad and the chicken, too. You have a great wife.” Larry smiled a bit. He thought the same thing and he loved her perhaps because of the fact that she thought every single man should be married. “You know,” he said easily, kind of wishing there was a TV screen to distract him from this but thinking Andrew would be amused, “my wife told e you need a wife.” “Oh?” He smiled and chuckled and pulled off his gloves. He put his hands together and rubbed the dirt from under his nails. “Perhaps someday,” said the pilot, “I haven’t thought about that for a while. She’d have to like planes.” “Like planes?” said the government official who pushed paper across his desk, “I would think she’d have to do more than like them.” “You’re right,” replied Andrew as he found the dethorner in his shed and gave it to Larry, “not in a hurry. My last girlfriend decided she wanted someone who would be home at night. I cant’ always be home at night.” “Yeah, well,” Larry said taking the proffered dethorner and shaking Andrew’s hand, “don’t mind Debby. She’s a good woman. She just felt sorry for you and thought you could use some help.” “I see,” said the pilot shaking out the gloves and putting them away. He turned back toward his house. “You tell her thanks. She was very kind.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t’ worry about her; I don’t,” he said, “she means well and perhaps it’s not a bad idea.” Two days later, Andrew showered and left for the airport. He would be flying a C172 over the familiar route, taking a man and a woman to an airport not far from here. Before he arrived to pick them up, he would bring his plane down for a forced landing, one that would change his life, forever.
Copyright © 2004 Shelley J Alongi |