The Invitation by Jude Deveraux Page A

the first tank ran out of gas about thirty minutes before it should have. The engine sputtered and died in the air. Without much concern, Jackie flipped the switch to the second tank and restarted the engine. Nothing happened. Either the second tank was empty or there was a blockage in the line and the gas couldn’t get to the engine.
    â€œThis is it,” Jackie said to herself and for a moment she wondered how she could tell the people on the ground that what had killed the other pilots was a faulty fuel line. Oddly enough, considering she was facing certain death, her head was completely clear as she looked at the switch to the gas tank. On and Off, the little printed label said. Or did it read, Off and On? She flipped it the other way, tried the engine, and it started.
    Laughing, she brought the plane to the ground and had the great pleasure of informing the designer that the only thing wrong with his plane was that someone had labeled the fuel switch wrong. The other pilots had inadvertently switched it off. No one but Jackie had thought of flipping the switch the other way. Talent. Instinct. Whatever. Jackie had lived because she didn’t fly by the book.
    After ten minutes in the plane with William, Jackie knew that he would never have thought to flip the switch the other way. William was an utterly perfect flyer. There was a rule behind every movement he made. He took no chances, was absolutely safe.
    After thirty minutes, Jackie was bored to tears. Couldn’t he understand that flying was creative? Airplanes had nothing to do with books. Airplanes moved through the air. What could be more creative than that? Yet William flew as though there were road signs stuck in the clouds. She fully expected to see him extend his hand and signal a right turn.
    After forty-five minutes, she could stand no more. Motioning to him that she wanted to take over, she took the controls.
    There were two ways to fly: with passengers and without. Usually Jackie tried to behave herself when she had a passenger, but now she wanted to make William say that he didn’t want to be partners with her and maybe, too, she wanted to show off a bit.
    First off: clean out the cockpit. Daredevil pilots loved to brag that they had very clean cockpits. All they had to do was turn the plane upside down and give a little wiggle to the wings. Simple. Of course you had to make sure the seat belt was fastened. It had happened that people had fallen out.
    Jackie turned the plane upside down and wiggled, then did it again. Quickly she came out of the position to move forward and swoop upside down again. She didn’t want to miss a smidgen of debris. Dust and dirt, a few chewing gum wrappers, flew past her face. In front of her, William’s strong hands were gripping the sides of the cockpit as he held himself in.
    Jackie had made a good living and a name for herself with barnstorming and thrilling crowds. The more chances she took, the more she got paid—and she was paid very well.
    Twists came next. She flipped wing over wing over wing. Quickly she went into a loop, turning in a complete vertical circle. This was followed by her own special creation that someone had called a dippy twist loop, in which she did a twist and a loop at the same time.
    When she came out of the dippy, she went into a stall and the world suddenly seemed unnaturally silent until she started the engine again.
    Years before, when she was learning to fly, Charley had made sure that she knew how to handle herself in every emergency. He’d made her take off from beaches, roadways, ball parks, racetracks. She’d had to fly right-side up, upside down, in crosswinds, tailwinds, no wind. He’d taught her how to handle a fire on board and ice on the wings. When there was thick fog between her and the ground, he’d shown her how to orient herself by burning a hole in the fog with her engine heat. He’d taught her how to land on water and what to do if