Chapter Text
“You’ve got this.”
The voice on the other side of the radio radiated a level of confidence that the kid in the front set didn’t feel, but at this moment all he could was trust the voice.
Shakely, the kid keyed the mike. “You sure?”
“I am sure.” The voice said warmly. “Now let’s stop doddering and get your bird back on the ground.”
The kid in the left seat took a deep breath locked eyes on the ground and gave his reply. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Bailey (Pogy) Powell’s day had started off well. He had gotten up early, eaten a good breakfast before being picked up by his Uncle Curtis. The older man had promised to take him up in his Cessna for his birthday, and the day was supposed to be perfect.
They had taken off from the tiny airport at mid-morning while the skies were blue and relatively calm. For the first 45 minutes, it had been just as magical as Pogy had imagined. His uncle made a wide ark and let him see his house and school from the air. His uncle had even given him the chance to take the controls and try doing a few maneuvers in the air.
The magic of that perfect day had then been shattered in an instant when his uncle had violently shaken in his seat and then gone completely limp. Pogy had yelled…had screamed, but no matter how loud he was or how hard he shook him his uncle didn’t respond. With terror threatening to swallow him completely, Pogy put his headset on and focused on the controls.
The young kid knew he had no clue what he was doing and if he was going to successfully get himself on the ground he was going to need some help, so he keyed the mike and called the only station he knew how to contact…the tower.
The person on the other end of the radio was confused at first, then once he realized just how bad things were in the air he tried to be helpful. Finally, after it became clear just how little Pogy knew about flying planes the person in the tower clearly started to get frustrated with him. Pogy was starting to get to the point of panicking when the air traffic controller took a deep breath and called for backup.
“Cabbie, please say that you are listening to this.”
“I am.”
“Thank goodness, do you think you can help?”
“On it.” There was a slight pause then the voice shifted tone slightly. “Well kid, it sounds like your flight has been a whole lot more complicated than you hoped.”
“That would be the understatement of the year.” Pogy said while white-knuckling the controls.
“What do you say we get you on the ground.”
“Love to, but how?”
“One step at a time, kid. One step at a time.” The voice on the other end of the radio cleared his throat. “The name is Cabbie by the way.”
“Pogy.”
“Nice to meet you Pogy. Now my first question is how comfortable are you with the controls?”
“Hm…” Pogy swallowed hard not wanting to admit just how screwed he was. “I know how to fly straight, and I can do a figure eight.”
“Did you learn how go up and down in the aircraft yet?”
“Sort of yes?”
“Sort of?” There was amusement in the man’s voice which cut through some of the tension of the moment.
“I did it once…but pushing on the steering thing makes me nervous.”
“Well, for one thing, that steering thing is called a yoke, and for another, thank you for being honest with me about what parts of flying makes you nervous.” There was warmth in the man’s voice. “It lets me know what type of an approach we are going to set you up for.”
“Okay.”
“First thing I need you is to get yourself one or two miles south of the airport.” The man gave him his instructions that abruptly changed his tone as he spoke to the tower. “Drip, can you give the kid some coordinates or a landmark he can use to help him know that he has gotten to the right spot?”
“Wilco.” The tower operator replied, before talking him through the maneuver. Once Pogy had made the final turn towards the runway, the operator spoke to the other man on the radio. “Alright, Cabbie he is all lined up.”
“Excellent.” The older man paused then asked Pogy a question. “So kid, can you spot the 8 on the end of the runway?”
“Yes.”
“Good. That is going to be your aiming point. Basically, you are going to keep pointing your plane at that point on the tarmac and will guide you in at a safe angle.”
“Alright…I mean wilco.”
“Very good, just keep flying your aircraft straight down the numbers. And remember, if you have trouble with this approach, we always have the ability to pull up and try again.”
“Understood.”
“Good, Drip, I need you to be my eyes on this. When Pogy gets over the blast pads I need you to let him know that it is time to pull level to the ground, can you do that?”
“Got it Cabbie.”
The decent took both an instant and an eternity. As they came upon the runway, the man on the other side of the radio helped him slow the aircraft as much as possible, then he cleared the airways to allow the air traffic controller to tell him when to level off.
“Alright kid, pull level.” The air traffic controller broke the silence.
It took everything in Pogy’s power not to over-correct and pull his aircraft back into the sky. But he somehow managed to stay in control.
“Full flaps.” The man barked.
“Full flaps.” Pogy parroted as he reached for the flaps and pushed the flaps tab as far down as it would go.
“Drip?”
“Fast but on the runway.” Was the air traffic controller’s rapid-fire reply.
“Pogy, cut power to the engine now.”
The kid cut the engine. Cockpit alarms screamed…the aircraft gave a howled and shuttered…then the tires hit the tarmac hard once, twice, then on the third hit the plane stayed on the ground. He was shaking so hard that he could no longer keep the aircraft straight, but he had slowed enough that he didn’t drift too far off the runway. By the time the pounding of his heart in his ears quieted enough to hear the chatter on the radio he had come to a complete stop on the grass.
“Pogy, kid, please respond.” The man on the other end of the radio still sounded calm, but Pogy could hear the hint of panic creeping into the edge of his voice. “Drip, how far out is EMS?”
“EMS is rolling up on him now.”
Pogy glanced behind him, and saw that true to the air traffic controller’s words, there was two big fire rigs and an ambulance
“Pogy?”
“Here.” He finally managed to croak back.
“You okay?”
“I think so…”
“Good.” The man on the radio’s relief was palpable. “Good. I am going to need you to sit tight while the EMS takes care of your uncle, alright? I am going to stay with you until get you pulled out of the plane.”
“Okay.” Pogy could feel a lump starting to form in his throat as the emotions he tamped down threatened to swallow him whole. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes, and he felt himself starting to shake. He watched as the firefighters popped opened the aircraft door on the pilot’s side and as they started to maneuver him out onto a stretcher. They were shouting things that Pogy couldn’t understand at each other. He was scared so he reached out to the only lifeline he had left. “Cabbie, I’m scared.”
“I know kid, I know. But you got the hard part done. All you need to do is let the EMS folks take care of you.”
“Thank you…” Pogy swallowed hard as a lump started to form in his throat. “Thank you for saving my life.”
“Hey, you were the one who saved your life, I only gave you a little guidance.” The voice on the other end of the radio was warm as a down comforter. “Never forget that you already have the makings of a pilot.”
There was a tap on his window and the firefighter outside motioned for him to open the door. “Cabbie, I think it is time for me to leave the plane.”
“I am glad.” The man’s voice was genuine. “Now go get your feet on terra firma and grab a ginger ale to help settle your nerves.”
With that, Pogy took off the headset, popped open the door, and let the firefighter help him to the ground. Pogy’s feet didn’t want to support him, but the firefighter at his elbow didn’t let him fall. Supporting some of his weight, the firefighter guided him to the bumper of the rig where he let him sit down before handing him a can of luce warm soda and started to ask him a series of questions.
Pogy did his best to answer them, but between the sugar hitting his system and the sheer relief of being on the ground, it didn’t take him long to start nodding off.