Effanbee
The Fly
Learning to Fly
Part 13
In the hangar again, dust dancing in the shafts of sun slanting through the wide-open doors. Checking the Pitts thoroughly, carefully, everything must be perfect today. Flight plan filed, parachute packed, aeroplane gassed and ready. Pre-flight checks, contact and taxiing slowly out to the runway. Heartbeat raised a little, be calm, breathe. Clear for takeoff, throttle up and away, up to 3000 feet and heading north towards the Hole in the Wall.
It was the last day the band and their people would be in New Zealand. Siobhan had planned a farewell gathering and had invited me to fly some aerobatics for the crowd. I had my display moves taped beneath the g-counter, a smoke canister attached beneath the lower wing. Hardly a breath of wind today, no cloud to speak of, perfect.
Approaching the valley where the ranch stood, I noted a large marquee in the back garden, many cars and people tiny as ants from this height. Full concentration now, total focus on the flying. Check for emergency landing-out areas, drop some height and circle the ranch, not too low, not allowed to buzz houses nowadays, just enough to let them know we’re here.
Then into the display, climb and stall turn, roll and loop, steep climb, spin one, two three and recover … purely in the moment now, the biplane an extension of myself. Nowhere I’d rather be right now than doing this. To the final part of the display, hope to God this works otherwise I’m going to look a complete prat.
Activate smoke, climb and half-roll, up again, half-roll off the top and down to complete a heart shape. Smoke off for a couple of second then on again to enclose the heart in a rectangle. Hopefully it would be recognisable as the band’s ‘heart in a suitcase’ graphic. I couldn’t tell from the air what it looked like, hoped someone had videoed it … or maybe not.
A final pass with a hesitation roll, got that one right, my favourite, and turn back for the airfield. Hoping at least some of the people were stirred to thoughts of flying for a moment, that some might one day make those dreams reality.
******
Driving home from the airfield, I felt a mixture of anticipation and dread. Looking forward, as always, to seeing Bono, feeling slightly sick because it would be for the last time.
Going through the motions of getting ready, I felt a growing heaviness where my heart should be. I must not, must not feel like this, I told myself. Save it for tomorrow. Be happy for him today.
Or maybe I just wouldn’t go, I thought, stopping in the act of picking up my car keys. Just leave it at that …
The phone rang. ‘Bloody hell,’ I swore aloud, running back to the sitting room.
‘Hello?’ Impatiently, fiddling with the car keys. Go or stay?
‘Roo, darlin’.’ Ah, how I loved to hear that voice. Go, definitely.
‘You coming over? There are quite a few people here waiting to meet you.’ Or maybe stay.
‘Bono, what tales have you been spinning now? What people?’
‘Come on over and find out. And there’s one Irish singer who would like you to be here, very much.’
No contest, really.
‘OK, you talked me into it. I’m on my way.’
****
A sea of people at the Hole, everyone drinking, talking, laughing, having a good time. Looking for a familiar face, walking through the house, collecting a drink on the way. Out in the back garden, still can’t see anyone I know. Fuck it, this was a bad idea after all.
‘Hey, Roo,’ a voice called. I turned and there was Larry, wearing a wide and seldom-seen Larry-smile. ‘That was a fine display. Wish I’d been up there with you.’ Larry gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek which practically floored me.
‘Did the sky-art work?’ I hardly dared ask.
‘Sure. Everyone could see what it was. Adam filmed it for you.’
I breathed a sigh of relief, heart lightening a little.
‘I heard loads of people saying they’d like to fly,’ said Larry as we walked towards the marquee. ‘And Bono was telling everyone that we’d flown in that very plane, and how great it was, etc. etc.’
I imagined the Pitts under siege, with people queuing up to sit in the same cockpit as U2. I shook my head with a little laugh.
Under the billowing white canvas of the marquee, tables piled high with food and drink, yet more people and at the far end Adam and Edge with lots of ladies in attendance. Edge waved us over. ‘Well done Roo,’ he said, patting me on the back. Adam took my hands and kissed my cheek. Many envious stares from the ladies.
‘Want to have a look?’ Adam retrieved a neat little camcorder from a table behind him so that I could watch the display. Edge peered over my shoulder, wanting to know all the technical data for each manoeuvre.
‘Ag, that stall turn was a bit sloppy,’ I muttered, noting the inaccuracies.
‘What’s this one?’ asked Edge. ‘We didn’t do this when we flew, did we?’
‘It’s an inverted loop. Tends to make your eyes bleed, so I don’t usually inflict it on passengers,’ I explained.
The sky art looked better than I’d expected so on the whole I was fairly satisfied. Larry handed me a plate of food, I was suddenly, ravenously hungry. In the middle of a deep conversation with Edge, Bono arrived.
‘My favourite pilot!’ Bono literally swept me off my feet, causing a food avalanche, much of which ended up squashed between us. I was so pleased to see Bono I didn’t notice until he put me down.
‘Oh, dear. Wardrobe malfunction of the food kind,’ said Bono guiltily, brushing at the front of my dress and his rather wonderful black jacket.
‘You’re making it worse, you great prat,’ said Larry, rolling his eyes. ‘Can you never get through one day without plastering yourself?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I laughed. ‘Really.’
Bono took my arm, insisting I had to come and talk with some people who were interested in flying. ‘You’ll like them,’ he told me, leading me inexorably onwards.
And, surprisingly, Bono was right. It was easy, and one guy in particular was very enthusiastic. He asked intelligent questions, not bad looking either. About Larry height, dark hair, hazel eyes. Sam by name. We talked and talked, Sam not at all put off by the food-stains on my dress.
When Sam went to get us fresh drinks, I realised that Bono had moved away. I looked for him in the crowd, saw that he hadn’t gone far and was looking at me with an enigmatic smile.
‘Oh, Bono,’ I thought. ‘Did you set me up here? Did you really think I could so much as look at anyone else?’ I smiled back at him.
No-one else in the world right now.
*****
Night came suddenly and completely, as it does at our end of the world. Coloured lanterns lit the gardens, music echoed across the valley. People dancing, noise level escalating. I danced with Sam, with Larry … sensibly this time. And with Edge, which was a fascinating sort of experience.
Sam left with promises to call and book a flight. I went to sit down, removed the shoes from my aching feet, buried my toes in the cool grass.
‘I think you made quite an impression on Sam,’ said Adam, sitting beside me.
‘I suspect it was a set up,’ I told him.
Adam looked surprised. ‘No, it wasn’t,’ he said. ‘Sam’s a friend of mine from way back. Bono never met him before tonight.’
‘Really?’
‘Truly.’
I felt embarrassed and relieved at the same time. Adam noticed my confusion and said, ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Roo. I can see how you must have thought that.’
‘I am so stupid, Adam …’
‘Not at all,’ Adam laughed. ‘Bono’s been looking for you. I think he was heading for the house.’
‘I’ll go find him. I have to leave soon.’
‘Well, don’t go without saying farewell.’
‘That’s a promise.’ I went off towards the house, forgetting to put my shoes back on.
I found Bono in the back room, on his own.
‘Hey there, handsome man.’
Bono looked up, smiled. ‘Hey. I couldn’t find you.’ He came over, put his arms around me.
‘I’ve been dancing, can you believe it?’ I said, resting my head on Bono’s shoulder. ‘I’ll be going soon.’
‘You’re leaving without dancing with me?’
‘You never asked me to dance.’
‘Roo, will you dance with me?’ Bono asked seriously.
So we danced, slowly, to the music drifting in through the open window. I closed my eyes, wanting it to last for ever, knowing it could not.
Bono kissed me softly, held me close, his heart beating against mine. For the last time, I was home again.
I looked up into the blue eyes I loved so much, saw a tear sparkling, about to fall. I caught the tear on my finger. ‘Don’t be sad, please don’t be sad,’ I whispered, determined not to cry myself, struggling not to cry. ‘Come with me, to find the others, say my farewells …’ I ran out of words, hid my face against his neck, desperately searching for inner strength, this was so, so hard.
Somehow we got moving, Bono’s arm around my waist. Into the garden again, finding Adam, who handed me my shoes.
‘I’m on my way,’ I told him as I put my shoes on.
‘Just let go of her a second, mate,’ Adam said to Bono. Adam gave me a big hug. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Roo.’
‘Take care, Adam, and thanks …’
Then Larry and Edge were there too. More hugs.
‘You be careful on that big bike, Larry.’
‘You be careful in that little ’plane,’ Larry grinned.
‘Next time I see you, be prepared to be thrashed at chess,’ I told Edge.
‘In your dreams,’ smiled Edge, with a gleam in those wonderful clear green eyes. ‘Give Jack a pat from me, tell him I’ll be back one day.’
‘I’ll walk with you, to your car.’ said Bono. We walked together through a crowd I did not see, did not hear, to the quiet front yard.
Bono stopped, his hands on my shoulders. ‘God bless, little pilot. Happy landings.’
‘God speed, Bono.’ Bono kissed my hand.
And I got into my beat-up Landrover, started it up. Raised a hand to Bono and drove away.
*****
My house was quiet and dark. I turned on lights, moved through rooms filled with ghosts of conversations, phantoms of emotion. I could see Larry at the kitchen table, Adam turning with a smile. Edge in front of the chess-board, a rain-streaked window behind him.
And echoes of Bono everywhere, on the deck, the swing-seat …
I sat on the sofa where he used to stretch out, put my hands over my face and wept, helplessly, until an exhausted sleep wiped the misery away.
I awoke to a grey morning light, stiff, empty of all feeling. Was this how it was to be from now on, dead on the surface, all colours turned to grey?
He was miles up in the air now, every minute taking him further away. What was he feeling? Maybe he’d forgotten me already. No, that was unfair. Bono had told me he would keep me in his thoughts, and prayers. As I would remember him, in the places we’d been together, in the pure blue sky, and every time it rained.
I ran my fingers through my hair, willing myself to break the inertia and face the day. A ray of sunlight crept like hope through the clouds, touching the little crystal biplane on the windowsill, bursting prisms of light into the room. Brave colours against the grey. I shifted uneasily.
Something was digging into my back. It was a book, fallen down the side of the sofa. Eliot, of course.
I leafed through the book, saw a passage had been circled in green ink. Bono, of course. I read:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Part 13
In the hangar again, dust dancing in the shafts of sun slanting through the wide-open doors. Checking the Pitts thoroughly, carefully, everything must be perfect today. Flight plan filed, parachute packed, aeroplane gassed and ready. Pre-flight checks, contact and taxiing slowly out to the runway. Heartbeat raised a little, be calm, breathe. Clear for takeoff, throttle up and away, up to 3000 feet and heading north towards the Hole in the Wall.
It was the last day the band and their people would be in New Zealand. Siobhan had planned a farewell gathering and had invited me to fly some aerobatics for the crowd. I had my display moves taped beneath the g-counter, a smoke canister attached beneath the lower wing. Hardly a breath of wind today, no cloud to speak of, perfect.
Approaching the valley where the ranch stood, I noted a large marquee in the back garden, many cars and people tiny as ants from this height. Full concentration now, total focus on the flying. Check for emergency landing-out areas, drop some height and circle the ranch, not too low, not allowed to buzz houses nowadays, just enough to let them know we’re here.
Then into the display, climb and stall turn, roll and loop, steep climb, spin one, two three and recover … purely in the moment now, the biplane an extension of myself. Nowhere I’d rather be right now than doing this. To the final part of the display, hope to God this works otherwise I’m going to look a complete prat.
Activate smoke, climb and half-roll, up again, half-roll off the top and down to complete a heart shape. Smoke off for a couple of second then on again to enclose the heart in a rectangle. Hopefully it would be recognisable as the band’s ‘heart in a suitcase’ graphic. I couldn’t tell from the air what it looked like, hoped someone had videoed it … or maybe not.
A final pass with a hesitation roll, got that one right, my favourite, and turn back for the airfield. Hoping at least some of the people were stirred to thoughts of flying for a moment, that some might one day make those dreams reality.
******
Driving home from the airfield, I felt a mixture of anticipation and dread. Looking forward, as always, to seeing Bono, feeling slightly sick because it would be for the last time.
Going through the motions of getting ready, I felt a growing heaviness where my heart should be. I must not, must not feel like this, I told myself. Save it for tomorrow. Be happy for him today.
Or maybe I just wouldn’t go, I thought, stopping in the act of picking up my car keys. Just leave it at that …
The phone rang. ‘Bloody hell,’ I swore aloud, running back to the sitting room.
‘Hello?’ Impatiently, fiddling with the car keys. Go or stay?
‘Roo, darlin’.’ Ah, how I loved to hear that voice. Go, definitely.
‘You coming over? There are quite a few people here waiting to meet you.’ Or maybe stay.
‘Bono, what tales have you been spinning now? What people?’
‘Come on over and find out. And there’s one Irish singer who would like you to be here, very much.’
No contest, really.
‘OK, you talked me into it. I’m on my way.’
****
A sea of people at the Hole, everyone drinking, talking, laughing, having a good time. Looking for a familiar face, walking through the house, collecting a drink on the way. Out in the back garden, still can’t see anyone I know. Fuck it, this was a bad idea after all.
‘Hey, Roo,’ a voice called. I turned and there was Larry, wearing a wide and seldom-seen Larry-smile. ‘That was a fine display. Wish I’d been up there with you.’ Larry gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek which practically floored me.
‘Did the sky-art work?’ I hardly dared ask.
‘Sure. Everyone could see what it was. Adam filmed it for you.’
I breathed a sigh of relief, heart lightening a little.
‘I heard loads of people saying they’d like to fly,’ said Larry as we walked towards the marquee. ‘And Bono was telling everyone that we’d flown in that very plane, and how great it was, etc. etc.’
I imagined the Pitts under siege, with people queuing up to sit in the same cockpit as U2. I shook my head with a little laugh.
Under the billowing white canvas of the marquee, tables piled high with food and drink, yet more people and at the far end Adam and Edge with lots of ladies in attendance. Edge waved us over. ‘Well done Roo,’ he said, patting me on the back. Adam took my hands and kissed my cheek. Many envious stares from the ladies.
‘Want to have a look?’ Adam retrieved a neat little camcorder from a table behind him so that I could watch the display. Edge peered over my shoulder, wanting to know all the technical data for each manoeuvre.
‘Ag, that stall turn was a bit sloppy,’ I muttered, noting the inaccuracies.
‘What’s this one?’ asked Edge. ‘We didn’t do this when we flew, did we?’
‘It’s an inverted loop. Tends to make your eyes bleed, so I don’t usually inflict it on passengers,’ I explained.
The sky art looked better than I’d expected so on the whole I was fairly satisfied. Larry handed me a plate of food, I was suddenly, ravenously hungry. In the middle of a deep conversation with Edge, Bono arrived.
‘My favourite pilot!’ Bono literally swept me off my feet, causing a food avalanche, much of which ended up squashed between us. I was so pleased to see Bono I didn’t notice until he put me down.
‘Oh, dear. Wardrobe malfunction of the food kind,’ said Bono guiltily, brushing at the front of my dress and his rather wonderful black jacket.
‘You’re making it worse, you great prat,’ said Larry, rolling his eyes. ‘Can you never get through one day without plastering yourself?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I laughed. ‘Really.’
Bono took my arm, insisting I had to come and talk with some people who were interested in flying. ‘You’ll like them,’ he told me, leading me inexorably onwards.
And, surprisingly, Bono was right. It was easy, and one guy in particular was very enthusiastic. He asked intelligent questions, not bad looking either. About Larry height, dark hair, hazel eyes. Sam by name. We talked and talked, Sam not at all put off by the food-stains on my dress.
When Sam went to get us fresh drinks, I realised that Bono had moved away. I looked for him in the crowd, saw that he hadn’t gone far and was looking at me with an enigmatic smile.
‘Oh, Bono,’ I thought. ‘Did you set me up here? Did you really think I could so much as look at anyone else?’ I smiled back at him.
No-one else in the world right now.
*****
Night came suddenly and completely, as it does at our end of the world. Coloured lanterns lit the gardens, music echoed across the valley. People dancing, noise level escalating. I danced with Sam, with Larry … sensibly this time. And with Edge, which was a fascinating sort of experience.
Sam left with promises to call and book a flight. I went to sit down, removed the shoes from my aching feet, buried my toes in the cool grass.
‘I think you made quite an impression on Sam,’ said Adam, sitting beside me.
‘I suspect it was a set up,’ I told him.
Adam looked surprised. ‘No, it wasn’t,’ he said. ‘Sam’s a friend of mine from way back. Bono never met him before tonight.’
‘Really?’
‘Truly.’
I felt embarrassed and relieved at the same time. Adam noticed my confusion and said, ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Roo. I can see how you must have thought that.’
‘I am so stupid, Adam …’
‘Not at all,’ Adam laughed. ‘Bono’s been looking for you. I think he was heading for the house.’
‘I’ll go find him. I have to leave soon.’
‘Well, don’t go without saying farewell.’
‘That’s a promise.’ I went off towards the house, forgetting to put my shoes back on.
I found Bono in the back room, on his own.
‘Hey there, handsome man.’
Bono looked up, smiled. ‘Hey. I couldn’t find you.’ He came over, put his arms around me.
‘I’ve been dancing, can you believe it?’ I said, resting my head on Bono’s shoulder. ‘I’ll be going soon.’
‘You’re leaving without dancing with me?’
‘You never asked me to dance.’
‘Roo, will you dance with me?’ Bono asked seriously.
So we danced, slowly, to the music drifting in through the open window. I closed my eyes, wanting it to last for ever, knowing it could not.
Bono kissed me softly, held me close, his heart beating against mine. For the last time, I was home again.
I looked up into the blue eyes I loved so much, saw a tear sparkling, about to fall. I caught the tear on my finger. ‘Don’t be sad, please don’t be sad,’ I whispered, determined not to cry myself, struggling not to cry. ‘Come with me, to find the others, say my farewells …’ I ran out of words, hid my face against his neck, desperately searching for inner strength, this was so, so hard.
Somehow we got moving, Bono’s arm around my waist. Into the garden again, finding Adam, who handed me my shoes.
‘I’m on my way,’ I told him as I put my shoes on.
‘Just let go of her a second, mate,’ Adam said to Bono. Adam gave me a big hug. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Roo.’
‘Take care, Adam, and thanks …’
Then Larry and Edge were there too. More hugs.
‘You be careful on that big bike, Larry.’
‘You be careful in that little ’plane,’ Larry grinned.
‘Next time I see you, be prepared to be thrashed at chess,’ I told Edge.
‘In your dreams,’ smiled Edge, with a gleam in those wonderful clear green eyes. ‘Give Jack a pat from me, tell him I’ll be back one day.’
‘I’ll walk with you, to your car.’ said Bono. We walked together through a crowd I did not see, did not hear, to the quiet front yard.
Bono stopped, his hands on my shoulders. ‘God bless, little pilot. Happy landings.’
‘God speed, Bono.’ Bono kissed my hand.
And I got into my beat-up Landrover, started it up. Raised a hand to Bono and drove away.
*****
My house was quiet and dark. I turned on lights, moved through rooms filled with ghosts of conversations, phantoms of emotion. I could see Larry at the kitchen table, Adam turning with a smile. Edge in front of the chess-board, a rain-streaked window behind him.
And echoes of Bono everywhere, on the deck, the swing-seat …
I sat on the sofa where he used to stretch out, put my hands over my face and wept, helplessly, until an exhausted sleep wiped the misery away.
I awoke to a grey morning light, stiff, empty of all feeling. Was this how it was to be from now on, dead on the surface, all colours turned to grey?
He was miles up in the air now, every minute taking him further away. What was he feeling? Maybe he’d forgotten me already. No, that was unfair. Bono had told me he would keep me in his thoughts, and prayers. As I would remember him, in the places we’d been together, in the pure blue sky, and every time it rained.
I ran my fingers through my hair, willing myself to break the inertia and face the day. A ray of sunlight crept like hope through the clouds, touching the little crystal biplane on the windowsill, bursting prisms of light into the room. Brave colours against the grey. I shifted uneasily.
Something was digging into my back. It was a book, fallen down the side of the sofa. Eliot, of course.
I leafed through the book, saw a passage had been circled in green ink. Bono, of course. I read:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Awwwww Im speechless ..Amazing writing!
Don't ponder, just go for it!
So sad for Roo. And please don't leave it off here. I prefer to think of Roo moving on to have a happy ending. The hope is always a good thing to hold onto. I was crying by the end of this. I love it. You are a fantastic writer. 
