smoke blew out the exhaust, which was normal for its first flight of the day. He taxied onto the grass and took off into the sky. He rocked his wings before turning westbound and disappearing into the distance.
Cain walked over to the heavy bag. His boxing coach had long since passed away, but Cain could still hear him talking. “Sometimes a fight jus’ comes a-looking for you. When dat happens, you finish eet.”
The more Cain thought about Tomcat and the SAC, the angrier he became. He picked up his old gloves and studied them. They were marred with sweat and dried blood. Unlike with the heavy bag, the years of abuse and heat and humidity had dry-rotted them. He tossed them on a stack of hay. He started punching the bag with his bare fists. He continued punching the bag until he couldn’t lift his arms anymore. They burned as if they were on fire, and his heart felt as if it was about to explode. His knuckles bled, and he was drenched in sweat. He took off his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his face and the blood from his hands. He plopped down on a bale of hay and watched squirrels play in the treetops as he tried to catch his breath and make his heart rate slow down. He remembered his navy training about how to combat-breathe to lower his heart rate. Inhale through the nose. Hold it for four seconds. Exhale through the mouth. Hold it for four seconds. He repeated this process several times.
His breathing had slowed enough for him to hear the faint sound of Claude’s plane returning. Cain turned skyward and searched for his father. He saw the plane bank left and position for a landing on the grass strip. Cain had watched his father land at least a thousand times, but it never got old. He always marveled at what a great pilot Claude was. He swooped the plane over the grass in a slow and steady way and touched down like a butterfly with sore feet. He killed the engine about twenty yards from the barn and let the momentum carry him the rest of the way. When the prop stopped windmilling, he jumped out of the cockpit and onto the wing as if he was still a young man.
“You’re still looking good, Pops.”
Claude smiled, showing his teeth. “Ain’t nuttin’ to eet. Dat flying keeps me young. I’ll keep at eet until I can’t do eet anymore.”
“You want me to refuel it?” Cain asked.
“Non. J’ai terminé.”
“That’s not bad—done with work and it’s not even nine o’clock yet.”
“Life’s simpler out here. Not easy, jus’ simpler.”
From the distance, a pickup truck turned onto the long dirt road that led up to the house. After a few moments, it pulled into the driveway.
“Well, dat didn’t take long. News still travels fas’ out here in da country,” Claude said with a smile.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ll see,” Claude said as he walked toward the house, opened the screen door, and went inside.
Cain still didn’t recognize the truck, but he recognized the lady who stepped out. She was wearing cowboy boots, tight jeans, and a smile that could light up a room.
Chapter 31
“Well, well, well,” she said. “Normally, you can’t believe all the rumors you hear in a small town. But in this case…”
“Elise LeBlanc,” Cain said with excitement. They had known each other since elementary school.
“In the flesh,” she replied.
Cain rushed toward his high school sweetheart, and they embraced.
“Oh, you stink to high heaven! Mr. Lemaire working you to death already?”
“I was exercising. Had you told me you were coming, I would have fancied myself up a little bit.”
They laughed together.
“You look amazing,” Cain said.
“You, too. So, what’s a gal gotta do around here to get a flight over the bayou?”
“Well, normally, I’d charge you full price. But I haven’t flown in over a year, so if you’re willing to trust me, I’ll take you for free.”
“Ain’t nothing free in this world, honey, but I ain’t scared to go up with you. It’ll be just like old times.”
“I’ll be right back,” Cain said. “Let me grab the keys and change my shirt—something less sweaty.”
“And less bloody,” she said.
“You’ve gotten more demanding over the years,” Cain joked.
“I just know what I want,” she replied.
The screen door slammed as he ran in and then out of the house, back toward Elise. They walked toward his dad’s low-wing taildragger. Most agriculture planes were designed for only