Page 38 of Flyboy

“The woman I most wanted to know, thought better of my team than of me.”

She didn’t quite know how to respond. “I remember you cracked a lot of jokes . . .”

“But see, there’s a lot people can pick up on in those jokes . . .” He paused. “And really, I’m not that person on the team. I’m not the guy with the great advice. I just do things.”

She considered him. She thought about all that she’d seen him do, and she nodded. “I see that.”

“You do?”

“Sure. But I do not see the fast flying, the crazy stunts, or the brave history.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That might impress a lot of people. But I’m seeing you pick up a woman and children on the side of the road and play soccer with them all afternoon. I’m seeing you carrying laundry on your head and learning to wash clothes by hand. I’m seeing you always catching the door, looking behind you, picking up in front of you. That’s what I’m seeing.” She looked away, suddenly self-conscious for paying such close attention.

“You see all that? That’s just . . . That’s just how my mama taught me to be. You aren’t a Bushman if you don’t lift a hand where you can.”

“Well, see, I don’t think that’s normal behavior for most people, and that’s what I’m seeing. And it taught me to look at you in a different way.”

“How am I doing?”

“At what?”

“At convincing you I’m not some crazy reckless danger to society?” He waited with a certain hesitance that was so completely endearing she wanted to kiss his face. Again.

“Oh, you’re dangerous. I just can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.”

“Excellent.” He tugged at her. “Let’s get out the gear.”

“Gear?”

“Sure. If we’re going to catch dinner, we have to get started.”

“Fishing! Awesome.”

“And besides, you’ve got to learn a thing or two yourself before this assignment is finished.”

“I do?” She stopped. “Of course I do. That’s not what I meant.” She studied him, but he seemed completely engrossed in getting the line ready. “Are you gonna tell me what I have to learn?”

“Do you know how to put bait on your line?” He dragged a bucket over. What seemed like overly large minnows swam around inside.

“I don’t.”

“Then that, pretty lady, is what you have to learn.”

She nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She cringed a little bit when he grabbed one and put it on his hook, but she gritted her teeth and reached into the bucket for her own. It took a little longer for her to catch one. Finally, she gave up using her hands and grabbed the small net. But eventually, the poor sacrificial bait was stabbed and hanging off her hook, and she was ready to cast out.

“You ever been fishing before?”

“I have. But I’m sure I could use a refresher.”

So he stood behind her, closer than necessary, but she didn’t mind one bit. He held her rod and the reel and the line, and together, they brought the rod back behind her and then with a jerk, sent the bait out into the water. He reeled to lock the line in place, and then he did the same for himself, a little further down the boat.

“And now we wait.”

“This is the best part of fishing.” She smiled.

“Ah, you’re one of those fisher types.”

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