Orchid Beach (Holly Barker 1)

Holly ran to him as he reached under the water and attached the bar to the nosewheel. Holly grabbed one side of the T and pulled with all her strength. For a moment, nothing happened; then, with the two of them pulling like oxen, the airplane began to move. They towed it well free of the surf.

“We’ve got to fly it out of here now,” Jackson said, “or pretty soon, all we’ll have left to roll on is soft, dry sand.” He hopped into the airplane. Holly got into the other seat, and Jackson got the engine started. “No time for a runup,” Jackson said, shoving the throttle forward. The airplane started to roll, slowly at first, then faster. Soon they were back in the air. They got their headsets on.

“Let’s look for the pickup,” Holly said.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Fly right up A1A. It won’t be on the highway, but you can look out your side, and I’ll look out mine.”

“Right.”

Holly looked out over the passing subdivisions. “Can you make this thing fly slower?” she asked.

“Okay.” Jackson lowered the flaps and reduced power. “Okay, that’s seventy-five knots. I don’t want to go any slower. The controls are mushy enough as it is.”

“Well, don’t stall it,” Holly said. “Hey, I’ve got a white pickup over here.” She pointed. “No, I’ve got two.”

“I’ve got one over here, too, parked in front of a house.”

“Here’s another one. I’m beginning to get the feeling there are an awful lot of white pickups around here.”

“Your father drives one,” Jackson said.

“Oh, the hell with it, this isn’t doing any good. Let’s go back to the airport.”

“Right,” Jackson said. He went back to cruise power and retracted the flaps. “Here,” he said, taking his hands off the yoke. “You fly it.”

Holly grabbed the yoke on her side. “Are you nuts? I’ve never flown an airplane.”

“It’s not quantum physics, just keep her straight and level.”

Holly held on to the yoke tightly.

“Take your hands off for a second,” he said.

Holly removed her hands; the airplane continued to fly straight and level.

“See? You don’t need to strangle the yoke. You can fly her with a couple of fingers.” He reached over and adjusted something on the panel in front of Holly. “That’s your compass,” he said. “Now turn left to two hundred seventy degrees. Just turn the yoke.”

Holly turned left, overshot 270, then corrected.

“We’re already at traffic pattern altitude, which is a thousand feet AGL. See the field? Twelve o’clock and five miles?”

Holly looked out over the nose of the airplane. “Yes! I see the runway!”

“Very good. You see we’re approaching the runway at a forty-five-degree angle?”

“Yes.”

“When we’re one mile out, you’ll turn parallel to the runway; that’s called the downwind leg. I’ll announce our presence to the tower.” He called the tower and got clearance to land. “Okay, start your turn now. Just keep parallel to the runway.”

Holly made the turn.

“Now we’re going to put in a notch of flaps and reduce power,” Jackson said, performing the tasks. “When we get to the end of the runway, let the airplane descend to seven hundred and fifty feet.”

Holly did as she was told.

Jackson added another notch of flaps. ?