“What is this for?” Spader finally asked. I looked to Jinx. I didn’t want to be the one to break the news.
“It’s a parachute, of course,” Jinx said as if she couldn’t believe he didn’t know. “If you fall out, pull on this metal ring. But try not to fall out.”
She winked and headed for the plane.
Spader looked at me with a sick expression, “If I fall out, pull this ring?” he repeated. “What happens then? I sprout wings and fly?” I laughed and said, “Sort of. Don’t worry about it. You won’t need it.”
I pushed him toward the plane, and we boarded. Jinx was at the controls in the forward cockpit. I sat in the back with Spader. It was cramped, especially with the bulky parachute packs, but I didn’t care. Jinx gave us each some leather flight caps and floppy goggles to wear. It was a good thing she had warned us to dress warmly. If we were going to be flying around in an open cockpit, it was going to get chilly.
“Buckle in!” Jinx commanded. Spader and I both found some cheesy leather seatbelts and strapped ourselves in. Good idea. Remember, the cockpits were wide open. We didn’t want to have to use the parachutes.
“Ready?” she shouted from up front.
“Hobey-ho, let’s go!” I shouted.
Spader just grunted. I think he was already nauseous.
Jinx turned over the engine, and with a throaty roar, the giant propeller behind our heads began to turn. Man, it was noisy. I’m not talking about loud. I’m talking about teeth-rattling, bone-jarring, makes-your-stomach-throb- and-your-ears-hurt noisy. At least the leather caps helped to cut some of the noise. I wished I had my CD Walkman.
The whole plane rattled from the force of the engine. I had been in a lot of airplanes-mostly big jetliner-type planes. But Uncle Press had taken me in a few smaller planes. Remember, he was a pilot. So between the flying lessons and the skydiving lessons, I was pretty comfortable in the air. But this plane was rickety. It may have been new in 1937, but by my standards it was only a couple of steps ahead of Wilbur and Orville-time. Still, I trusted Jinx. She was a national poster girl for the Coast Guard, right? She knew what she was doing. At least that’s what I told myself.
Spader was another matter. He was scared to death. He had never experienced anything close to this. He sat next to me as stiff as a tree. I could almost feel his heart thumping in his chest. But believe it or not, I knew he wanted to be here. He may have been scared, but he was always up for an adventure.
I had never taken off in a seaplane before. It was a bumpy experience. The water on the Hudson was calm, but even on a calm day there was some chop. So when Jinx turned the plane into the wind and gunned the throttle, we were treated to nearly thirty seconds of bouncing, bumping, and rocking as the plane accelerated over the swells. Then, just when I thought my brain was going to break loose inside my skull, Jinx pulled back on the yoke and we rose into the air. The ride became instantly smooth as we lifted up from the river and headed for the sky.
What followed was an hour that I will remember for the rest of my life.
Jinx treated us to an aerial tour of New York City. We flew up the Hudson and over the newly built George Washington Bridge. We rounded the northernmost tip of Manhattan and got a bird’s-eye view of Yankee Stadium. We flew down the East River, watching the barges slowly make their way from the ocean to Long Island Sound. We flew over the Brooklyn Bridge and into New York Harbor, where we were treated to a close-up view of the Statue of Liberty…at eye level. Jinx circled the statue four times, then turned back toward Manhattan. We flew north over the island until we got to the Empire State Building, where we did another four turns around.
Somewhere between the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty, Spader began to relax. Up until then he had been clutching the side of the cockpit so hard I thought he’d bend the metal. But gradually he loosened up and enjoyed the tour as much as I did.
“What a great plane!” I shouted to Jinx over the roar of the engine.
“Isn’t she?” Jinx shouted back. “We’ve been all over the country together.”
“Isn’t it hard to always find water to take off and land?” I asked.
“Don’t need it!” she shot back. “She’s got wheels for a runway. I can fly this sweetheart wherever the wind takes me. Or the Coast Guard sends me.”
The trip ended with a perfect landing on the Hudson, where Jinx guided us expertly back to the pier. She killed the engine and we were treated to something unbelievably fantastic-silence. Once the plane was safely secured, the three of us stood together on the pier.
“Jinx,” I said. “I don’t know what else to say but ‘thank you.’”
“Double for me,” added Spader. “I never would have believed it was possible for people to fly.”
“You’re kidding!” said Jinx with surprise. “Where do you live, under a rock?”
“No,” answered Spader. “Under the water most of the time, but I’m not sure what that’s got to do with it.”
I figured I’d better step in and change the direction of this conversation. “We’ll never forget this, Jinx,” I said.
Jinx looked at her plane. I thought I sensed a bit of sadness in her. “I loveto fly,” she said. “Hard to believe it’s all going to end.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I just got word this morning. After this tour, I’m grounded.”
“What? Why?”
“I think the brass is afraid something might happen to me,” she said with a hint of anger. “I agreed to do all this public relations stuff so they’d let me fly. Now I’ve become so famous, they’re worried if something happens to me it’ll look bad for everybody. Stupid thing is, they’re probably right. If I crashed, they wouldn’t let another woman in the cockpit for thirty years. Here I thought I was paving the way for women fliers, and all I did was take myself out of the sky.”
Neither Spader nor I knew what to say. Jinx then put on her big, trademark smile. “But until they yank me outta the cockpit, I’m going up whenever I get the chance. So thanks, you two, for giving me the excuse to go on this little jaunt.”
We all climbed in a cab and headed back to the hotel. Jinx was her old self again, telling us stories about how she learned to fly, and how she once crash-landed in a pasture in Maine and had to dodge a herd of moose. I really liked her and felt bad that soon she would no longer be able to do the thing she enjoyed so much. I really hoped she would find another way to get back into the air.
When we got back to the Manhattan Tower Hotel, Spader and I thanked Jinx again and left her at the front curb. We didn’t want to run into any reporters so we ducked into a side entrance. We made it through the kitchen and the dining room and were just about to climb the service stairs to our room, when somebody grabbed both of us by the back of the neck. It was one of Max Rose’s bodyguards.
“I’ve been looking all over for you two,” he growled. “Mr. Rose would like a word with you.” Uh-oh. Was this good news or bad news? Was this going to be another chance to learn about Max Rose and his evil plot with the Nazis? Or was he ticked about me not following his order to shoot the gangster and planning to make us both pay the price? The truth was, it didn’t matter because we didn’t have any choice. We were going to have an audience with Max Rose, whether we liked it or not.
FIRST EARTH
Rose’s bodyguard kept a firm hold on both of our jackets and marched us to the elevator like two kittens being carried by the neck. I can’t speak for Spader, but my feet barely skimmed the ground. Dewey rode us up to the penthouse without a word. He didn’t look at any of us. I knew he was thinking about the laundry chute. We hit the thirtieth floor and the bodyguard carried us toward the penthouse. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and pulled away.
“Enough, all right!” I shouted. “We’re not going anywhere.”
The guy looked at me with fire in his eyes. He didn’t like being told what to do, especially by a punk bellhop. For a second I thought he was going to punch my lights out, but he held back. I would have bet anything it was because Max Rose wanted us alive and in one piece. This was good. I started to feel like we weren’t being led
