A Journal of my adventures in the world I inhabit while I'm asleep. |
Tonight in Dreamland I'm visiting my Dad. "Come on out back, I've got a surprise for you,' he says. We walk out to the back yard, and there's a small olive green cargo plane parked in the field behind the house. The cab's a little bigger than a Chevy Suburban, and it's got short stubby wings. "It's military surplus, designed for short takeoff & landing. Got a really good deal on it. Lots of guys are picking them up instead of SUVs. They're great for camping and hauling stuff, and you can land them almost anywhere," he says. "Let's go for a ride, you can fly it." "I don't know, Dad, I haven't been up in quite a while. I might be kinda rusty..." "You'll do fine, this thing's a breeze." We get in the plane and I fire up the engine. I check the gauges, release the brake, pull back the throttle and we take off. We fly over the town, looking down as my Dad points out local landmarks. He points towards a wide gravel road on the edge of town. "OK, let's see if you can land this thing." I line up and cut the power back. The plane waffles around so I give it a little more gas. It takes more of the road than I planned, and the wings rock quite a bit, but I manage to get the plane down and rolling fairly straight. A farm truck is headed toward us, so I pull the plane off the side of the road and into a field. "Pretty smooth landing, I knew you could handle this thing." "I don't know, I dipped the wings quite a bit..." "Still, it was a lot better than I could have done." "But you just started lessons, Dad. You'll get better at it by the time you're ready to solo." "If my health holds out... (In real life my father is undergoing treatment for cancer) Let's head home now, I need to rest... those damn shots they give me wear me down..." I taxi back onto the road and we take off. We don't say much on the ride home... My landing in the field behind the house is much smoother than the first one. "You might as well keep the keys to the plane, I can't fly. I just wanted to make sure you could handle it," he says, holding the keys out to me as we walk back towards the house. "No, you'll learn, Dad. It just takes a little practice..." "Well, we'll see..." he says, pocketing the keys. "You ready for a beer?" "Yeah, sure," I say. |