Down Jersey Drive-shaft

Chapter Four: Flight or Fancy

Frederica Musa sits twirling a monstrous wrench, wishing she could put it inside of her brain to tighten down the screw plate to her leaky emotional engine. Realizing it's a waste of time, she tosses the tool into a nearby tool chest with an explosive bang. So what if she startles the young men in the hangar! After all, men are the problem.

    Men think she can't hang in the garage, even after she's proven she knows more about vehicles than them. Men have said she'd never do well in a man's war, but ta-da! And the biggest mook of all men, her pilot 'partner' Benjamin Haskins, shifts the emotional gear stick more than her. Times like this, when her insecurity and anger perform an Astaire and Rogers high kick dance across her heart, she is reminded of the silliness of her brother, Lucca.

    "What a revoltin' development this is!"

    The statement would be accompanied by Lucca's ridiculous faces. They were the kind of eye-popping, tongue hanging, eyebrow raising contortions that had cracked up the young Italian lady since her childhood. Even now, the mere image of it in her head brings about turning the frown upside down. Okay! Forget about dumb men's pouting! Remember the good man who kept you laughing, who kept you happy. Remember Lucca's shining face.

    Never forget the Slicks took him; turned him into a monster. A foul monster, one she needs to...

    Crank moves to her car, her beloved La Donna. Running her hand through her hair, she tries to push out the rising image of her brother under Motherville's control, accentuate the positive. She gently pushes aside Robert to get under the hood. The night she lost her brother and almost her father, Crank gained the power source that went into this perfect Stylemaster. She knows how to operate it somewhat, repair it, and is reasonably sure she can reproduce it. The only real unknown quantity? It isn't German or Japanese. Sure it was from Motherville, but why didn't she make it go back home, wherever that is? If Mother isn't a weapon used by the Axis, then what is she? She shudders, and realizes her brain again would not allow her to keep pleasant thoughts.

    Frederica lifts her eyes to the end of the hangar as the doors open and Milkman trots out like an armored ostrich. Benny would soon be in the air, his favorite place. That seemed right. Heck, it fit perfectly. Haskins in the plane, she under the hood of a machine, winning the war, growing heavy with medals, getting married and having fat babies...

    Whoa! Slam the brakes! A gut feeling directs her to Robert. The guy stands lean, hands in his coverall pockets. A cigarette dangles from his droopy lips, droopy like his black hair wet with pomade.

    "What?!" Crank yells.

    "Nothing," the kid mechanic says. "I just like looking at dames."

    "Ahh!" cries Frederica as she punches Robert in the gut, a solid right hook that sends home the message.

    "Get back to work!"

                                                                ______________________________

    The sky's the limit suits Benjamin Haskins just fine. As the S-47E 'Milkman' hops off the long, narrow gravel runway, he watches as the hangar gives way to air and swirling water. He trades a confined view of a gritty shop for the wondrous expanse of the beautiful brown Salem River, its powerful undercurrent forming many whirlpools at high tide. Nude reeds in the millions blow along the waterway in the harsh wind as the river winds up the land past brick factories and hibernating trees. Despite the stripped down appearance of nature in winter, Benny finds the world has much more appeal up here in this the last free space.