6/8/99

#5

CHERCHER POUR MA VIE

The small, silver plane fairly dances under my skilled guidance. It is only a single-engine Cessna, but it can do more than you will ever imagine.

I slightly turn the sensitive controls and the plane goes zipping into a cloud, piercing the humid air painlessly. We pause for a second in mid-air before hurtling back to the ground. I bank up at the last minute and turn the plane back up. We coast easily through the fresh, clean air towards tall mountains.

To me flying is an escape. No one knows I come here except Matt. No one even knows I have the slightest interest in planes. And for that it's my sanctuary.

The plane continues to fly smoothly though the air; soon I'll be over the mountains. Within thirty minutes, if I turn around now, I'll be over the Atlantic Ocean.

I've been flying for three years now, and have held a license for two. Occasionally I still take lessons, but most of the time I simply rent a plane for a few hours and fly around. Everyone at the hangar knows me simply as Dana. I only had to use my last name once, when applying for my license. I had used my middle name in the official records, and so my license read Kerry Jading. No one has ever connected me, Dana, with the file in records labeled Kerry Jading. Most likely nobody ever will.

This is my sanctuary. There's not a single shred of envy. I arrive in an old car we have at the back of our property that no one uses, and keep my own BMW convertible out of sight at home. I pay with crumpled twenties, no shiny Visa. I wear old jeans and a T-shirt, no designer clothes. And since no one knows who I am, they don't know my many publicized accomplishments. Whatever opinions they have of me I've honestly earned.

I gaze out the window at the worn Appalachian Mountains. They may not be as tall or majestic as the Rockies, but they're oddly comforting. They represent home and freedom.

The timer clicks over, announcing the fact I've been flying for one hour. I've only rented the plane for 30 more minutes. With a contented sight I glance at the mountains one last time before swinging the willing Cessna around. Flying always settles my mind.

Twenty minutes later I glide the silver bird to a stop outside the small hangar. It's a small airport only used for charter and taxi flights. A little wistfully I shut off the plane and hop out onto the damp ground.

"Hey Dana!" comes a welcome voice.

A tall, broad-shouldered guy walks over. His wavy brown hair falls comfortingly around his face, curling towards his eyes. His strong features are handsome in a more rugged sort of way, but by no means cute. It's his eyes that amaze me, however. They're a deep, dark brown like Matt's, but not passively unreadable. Instead they're open and caring. They remind me of a little, innocent puppy that just wants to please.

"Hey Andy!" I smile cheerfully. "Going up today?"

"Nopers, I don't have time. I just dropped by to schedule a couple of charter flights for next week. I saw your car, so I decided to wait."

I lean over and hug Andy. He's twenty, and working his way through college. He goes to Georgetown, about an hour away. I met him at the hangar about two years ago and we've been good friends ever since. I feel like he's my secret, even Matt doesn't have a clue he exists.

"Want to go grab some coffee?" Andy questions. "I have to be back at school soon, but I have about half an hour."

"Love to!" I grin, shoving my hair under a baseball cap. "Let me just sign out and we'll be off."

**At Starbucks**

"So what's new with you, Dana?" Andy asks as he sips a mocha frappacino. Me, I'm more of a caffeine-filled cappucino girl.

"Nothing much. Glad that school's winding up. What about you? How does it feel to be done your sophomore year at college? Meanwhile, I still have eleven days of my junior year in high school left!" I laugh.

"College is tough; love high school while you can!" he grins wryly. "I'm thinking about doing some taxi flights along with the charter ones I do now in the summer. I can earn some extra money for next year. Plus it'll keep me out of trouble."

"And, of course," I grin mischievously, "You can buy expensive presents for Joe."

I am referring to a fellow Georgetown student who Andy's had a crush on for the last month or so. He's been talking about him non-stop.

Andy throws some napkins at me playfully. "Don't start with me. You're the one who's practically having sex with a guy you insist is only your friend."

I make a face back.

"He is my friend! We're nothing more. And we're not having sex! We're not going anywhere; we're best friends."

"Mmm… the most sexually attracted friends I've ever seen."

I crack up at he grossed-out face Andy assumes for my amusement. He really is a great guy.

"I'm just stuck with him 'cuz all the good guys are gay!" I rejoin playfully.

He grins at the compliment and reaches over to grab my baseball cap and tussle my hair. He knows it drives me nuts.

"Alright Andy, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get home before Kris calls. There's a big bio test tomorrow, so she'll want me to help her study," I finish up my cappuccino and wipe my mouth with a napkin.

"Ahh, the elusive Kris. You've told me a lot about her. I have a question for you, Dana," Andy suddenly turns serious.

"Hmm?" I sling my purse over my shoulder and start to stand up.

"How come your friends are either gay, sexually attractive fruitcakes, or bitchy hoes?" Andy stares into my eyes, trying to figure out what I’m thinking.

"Matt's not a fruitcake and Kris, well," I pause with a smile playing on my lips, "she's a good bitchy hoe. As for you, they always say gay guys make the best friends. So bye, Andrea!"

Andy playfully punches me and I laugh. I lean over and give him a quick kiss before heading out the door.

"Next week, Wednesday, four PM, be at the hangar!" he calls out.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!"