The Prisoner's Tale

Part I can be seen here. Part II can be seen here. This flight is from Cairo Il to Shreveport LA. We started sleeping together whenever the Captain was gone, which seemed to be a lot. And I don't guess we actually slept all that much. What we did was...well it was what we did. Occasionally one or the other (or both of us) was left bruised and sometimes bloody by what we did to each other. Neither one of us complained. Once I had a girl friend (she was married and I was too) and I asked her what I had permission to do to her. She replied "anything you want as long as it doesn't leave marks for my husband to see". I asked Sydney (yeah, her) and the answer I got was "anything you want that doesn't kill me or leave me crippled".

I don't how she managed to have such clear and innocent turquoise eyes. She'd been through a lot. She had these cut scars on the inside of her thighs and upper arms like four long series of slash marks ///////. I found out much later they are usually signs of self cutting. Teenage girls seem to do it a lot when they feel they have no control over their lives. She also had scars on her back that looked an awful lot like cigarette burns. Sometimes she cried when she slept.

She would call me whenever the captain was away on some ocean or Great Lakes voyage. Usually he was gone for long periods--weeks even. We would arrange to meet and off we would go, into whatever world we were living in. Yeah, my performance for my employer wasn't the best and I lost a job or two, but it was just so easy to find another flying job back in the late seventies.

We did do other things. She'd come up with some idea and it wasn't long before I was thoroughly sold that nothing else would do me but to do whatever she thought of. Or maybe I thought of. I was no longer sure.

It started innocently enough...go see some sight or museum. She bought us motorcycles and we learned to ride them. Learned to shoot guns--I had enough guns in the Marines but it was what she wanted to do and so it was OK with me.

Then she wanted to do other things. Or was it me? We stole a car and took a joy ride. Then another one, and burnt it to the ground. Then we robbed a 7-11 for a thrill. Then another. And somehow the clerk got shot. Listen, I have to tell you our time together was like compressed somehow. These things happened over a horribly short period of time. The whole sorry mess probably took less than six months. Just six months and my life was over.

The Prisoner's Tale

This flight is from Burlington IA KBRL to Sault Ste Marie MI. I guess I always was in trouble of one sort or another. Being a teenager in the early '60's in Eastern Kentucky meant having to go to work early. I didn't ever want to go into the coal mines. There was an airport outside of Hazard, not much of one but a place to hang out, wash planes, do some grunt work pushing airplanes and listen to the mine owners laugh about the dumb A..ed miners, like my dad. I wanted to fly so I swallowed my anger and smiled. And finally got taught to fly by the airport owner. I also got into trouble here and there. When the trouble got too bad the judge (an airplane owner himself) offered me a choice of jail or the Marines. I chose the Marines and got assigned to flight training.

I got assigned to a carrier and was stationed off Vietnam, flying cover for grunts and doing ground attack flying an A4D Skyraider. We'd fly over, drop a little (actually a lot) of napalm, launching rockets as directed, and blowing up a few hooches here and there. I think a lot of those hooches never had more than mamma-san and papa-san inside. Occasionally, some light small arms fire would be returned but generally not a thing. I found a drug habit too. Hell, everybody in the Nam used drugs of some sort even the high brass, looking at how they ran their war.

I finally managed to get shot down and taken prisoner. Not something I recommend to anyone. My broken leg sort of healed itself while I was in the Hanoi Hilton. I also lost 65 lbs but did kick the drugs. Not a rehabilitation program I'd recommend but it worked. No more drugs, well except for maryjane. Like everybody else in the world I suppose. Long story short, after I was "repatriated" the Navy fixed up my leg as well as possible and I got a medical discharge.

I bummed around a while, drove a big truck, drove a little truck, found my way back into aviation flying for a major corporation, and then found my way into piloting for first one charter service and then another. And finally here I was flying for Mid-Central Air and things seemed to be settling down for me.

Then I was assigned the flight from Duluth to Cairo and life started a slide I couldn't even have guess at in even my wildest nightmares..

She was just so dang pretty and...well available I guess.

And she was looking for a thrill too I guess.

The Prisoner's Tale

I picked up my charter in Duluth MN bound for Cairo Il--a lakes freighter captain and wife bound for a late spring vacation. She had on a pair of Levis that were so tight I could see that she had a dime in her right rear pocket--it was heads--and the clearest, most innocent blue eyes. At the time I didn't know she also came equipped with a soul that would give the devil himself pause. And thereby begins my story...

I didn't think much at the time, in fact I was busy with getting the airplane off the ground and so dismissed the attractiveness sitting a few feet behind me.

But by the time I was getting turned onto course and had put the airplane on auto-pilot for climb and cruise I found I was getting a request from the ship captain asking whether his wife could ride the right seat. She was working on her private pilots license and wanted to study how to... And, well you get the idea.

So, sure. Nice scenery for me and maybe some study time for her. She came up front after we had leveled out and scrambled into the right seat and rewarded me with a perfect smile and a flash of those turquoise eyes. Yeah, she also bumped me a couple of times while climbing into the seat. And maybe those bumps lingered a little and maybe the body parts that bumped were not hands or knees.

I had no idea where this was intended to go so kept my eyes front and center and attended to flying the airplane. But I sure did find those eyes irresistible. Honest to God I tried to keep myself to myself.

Before we started descent I asked her to go back to the passenger cabin and again there were those bumps and the hand overlong on my shoulder as she left the flight deck.

After landing and unloading the captain and the lady both shook my hand. When she did I felt a piece of paper pass from her hand to mine. I put the paper in my pocket and read it later and in private. Yeah, name, rank and serial number, so to speak, were all included. And times when it would be appropriate (her word) for me to call.

I didn't know it at the time, but in a few months she would be rich and I would be in prison for life. Oh yeah, and the captain would be dead.