Jake left Tiger Cole at the bar in the Cubi Point 0 Club Without a carrier in port, the place was dead. Carrying a fresh scotch, he headed for the pay telephone, pockets weighted down with thirty dollars in quarters. He and Cole had arrived the day before, signed in the B O Q, and reported to the duty officer-as Camparelli had instructed them to do. At the bar Cole had said, “You should call.”
“It’s a lot to ask of her,” said Jake.
Cole shook the dice cup and rolled. “Call her.”
He selected a pair of threes and returned the other dice to the cup.
“Wish I had your problem.” He rolled again. A third three. “Go on.”
Jake felt as though he were feeding quarters into a slot machine.
Less than half his scotch remained when he heard Callie’s voice amid a hum and intermittent static.
“It’s me. Jake.”
There was a pause. “Jake! Great to hear your voice. I thought you were at sea. Where are you?”
“Cubi Point in the Philippines. I flew here yesterday afternoon in a cargo plane with another guy, my bombardier.”
There was another pause. “Are you on leave.
“Sort of.”
“Jake! You’ve been hurt!”
“No, no. I’m fine. Really, I’m okay. I’m calling from the O Club, and I’ve got a scotch in my hand.”
“If you’re drinking scotch, I suppose you must be all right.”
“Well, actually, everything’s not all right. I got into some trouble.”
“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”
He began searching his pockets for cigarettes. “I got into trouble with the navy. I did something wrong, didn’t follow orders exactly.”
“How serious is it? This trouble you’re in.”
“Oh, it could be worse. They’re not going to shoot me or anything. I’ll survive. I’m going back to the ship in maybe three days to deliver a new plane. But I’d sure like to see you before I go.”
“I’d like to see you, too. I really would.”
“Could you come?”
“Huh? You mean fly out to the Philippines?
Now?”
“Yeah. I know it’s a lot-“
“It’d be very difficult to leave just now. My job. It’s such short notice. Maybe-” “Callie, I need to see you.” Waiting for her reply, he cradled the receiver between his head and shoulder, and lit a cigarette.
“How would I get there?”
You fly to Manila. I can meet you there and bring you back to Cubi.”
“Why not stay in Manila?”
“Can’t. I’ve got to report to the duty officer here every morning.”
“It’s really serious, isn’t it?”
Jake took a breath before answering. “Yes. It’s pretty serious.”
“Hold on. I’ll see if there’s anything I can work out right now. You can hold, can’t you?”
“Sure.” After a few minutes he was told to add more quarters. He fed the slot as quickly as he could. A coin slipped from his hand, hit the counter, and fell to the floor. He didn’t bother to pick it up.
Finally she came back on.
“Jake?”
“Right here.”
“I can’t come until the day after tomorrow.”
“That’s okay.”
“I can catch a flight arriving in Manila at one-fifteen Saturday. That doesn’t give us much time together. you still want me to come?”
“You bet. I really want to see you.”
“Okay. I’ll be on Cathay Pacific flight 923.”
“Got it. Hey, I can’t wait to see you-and thanks.” After promising Callie that he’d relax and take care of himself, Jake made another phone call, then returned to the bar and came up behind Cole. “She coming, shipmate?” Cole acknowledged this with a hint of a smile. Jake went on, “This guy I know in the flying club here will fly me to Manila to meet her.”
Jake picked up the dice and put them in the cup. After a shake he turned it over on the counter.
Five aces.
They looked at each other, then stared at the sign behind the bar: “Five naturals buys the party, five aces buys the bar.”
Cole made a show of surveying the empty room “Barkeep,” Tiger called.
“Give me a double of the most expensive stuff you have back there. And pour Yourself one, too.” His blue eyes met Jake’s and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Without a doubt Grafton, you’re the luckiest man I’ve ever met.”
Jake stood with his arm around Callie while Harold made a thorough preflight inspection of the four-seat Cessna 172. Harold’s caution impressed Jake. Most pilots who had completed the first half of a flight would check nothing more than the fuel and oil before taking off again the same day.
Even so, Jake knew that he would not be at ease with Harold at the controls.
He was not comfortable in an airplane unless he was flying it.
“I hope this flight is better than my last one,” said Callie. She had complained about the turbulence on her flight from Hong Kong as soon after Jake had kissed her at the customs exit and given her a long hug.
“It was pretty smooth at four thousand feet coming over here,” Jake said.
Callie squeezed Jake’s hand and said, “I don’t want to hassle you, but when we’re on the plane maybe you could tell me about the trouble you’re in.”
Jake smiled. “These prop planes are pretty noisy. You have to shout to be heard. I thought that when we land at Cubi, we’d check into a hotel and then, if you’d like, we could go to the beach. I know one that’s sugar white and very quiet. I found it one day when I was flying. It’d be a good place to talk.”
Callie grinned. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”
The air was bumpy in the climb, but when the plane passed through 3700 feet, the ride suddenly became smooth. Harold’s seat was higher than those in the rear, where Jake and Callie sat, and the angle of the climb made it appear even higher. To Jake it seemed as though Harold sat on a throne. His bald pate shone in the afternoon sun. It saddened Jake to think that after one more flight in the Intruder, he would never again have control of his destiny in the air.
When they were flying downwind to the runway at Cubi Point, Jake estimated from the direction and slope of the windsock that Harold would be fighting about a fifteen-knot crosswind from the left on final approach-tough for a Cessna to handle. As Don Harold turned from left base to final he pushed on the right rudder to align the nose of the plane with the runway. Jake watched Harold put the Cessna in a slip by holding right rudder and dipping the left wing. Now the airplane could track straight down the final approach course in spite of the stiff crosswind. Jake heard a chirp as the Cessna touched down on the left wheel and then a softer chirp as the right wheel eased down and the plane settled on the runway. Jake said loudly “Good job! You caught the three wire!”
He and Callie took a cab to the Subic main gate They walked across the bridge to the nearby hotel. Earlier, he had paid the clerk a premium price for the best room available.
Callie surveyed the room. The dark green paint was peeling. Water stains blotched the ceiling and wall. A faucet dripped in the chipped porcelain sink. “I feel like I’m in the Hide-A-Wee Hotel for a sordid affair.
Saying nothing, Jake went over to try to stop the ieak- His hand froze on the faucet handle-a water logged black roach, about an inch long, lay upside down on the drain, with one bent antenna stuck to the bottom of the rust-stained sink. Jake stepped quickly into the bathroom and tore off a bundle of toilet paper When he came out, Callie was staring at a picture of black and white cow that stared back at her with lugubrious expression. It stood in a field of very green grass. “This print looks like it was cut from a dairy ad.
“American export art.”
