Chapter 10 - Hitching a Ride

   Joe gathered up what money he could lay his hands on without arousing Adelaide's suspicions. He had prepared for this, and as best he could. He couldn't bear the thought of a long, tearful goodbye. If she knew or even suspected what he had in mind? She might think she was saving him by calling people and having him stopped. Acting with no warning, being the anonymous small person he was in the greater scheme of things made it plausible.

   He had sat and watched sunrises and sunsets with her. Walked with her, talked with her. He held her hand, he made love to her. He had told her he loved her many times. His quiet talk when he first broached the subject of his will and such things, he had done several times. Each time, it was less of a reaction from her.

   Finally one day? He did what had become his habit. He had that quiet smile, that calm resignation he now had so much of. He hugged her warmly, and said goodbye. After all, he was only going off to work out. He would be back soon enough. It had long become his habit though. To tell her he not only loved her? That he always would. Sometimes, he would smile and tell her that he would always be with her. Even if she didn't know it. She got used to these warm and loving things. He was preparing her.

   He had a few extra clothes and such things in a backpack he took with him.

   He simply went to go work out? And never returned.

   He made his way to where he needed to be. There was a conglomeration of things built up in one area. The space stations got serviced regularly by transports. There were pilots and they worked for companies that made the shuttle runs back and forth. Supplies and tools and even people went back and forth. Mankind had long since entered the "space age", but had finally taken the step of making short hops to the stations and back down a routine matter. There was talk of a moon base "soon" but it was the typical human being fiasco.

   Who owned what. Who would be in charge of what and who. Financing as well. Self important people made themselves feel even more important discussing and arguing such things. They were in reality just aggrandizing themselves, and wasting time and money talking instead of all pitching in and doing. Another typical trait of human beings.

   There was a glut of bars and restaurants and motels and shopping where the station shipping worked out of. Much like an airport, really. Because its what it was. People with the money and the connections, could book passage to a space station and back, instead of going on a cruise for vacation. It was a mark of distinction to do it, and rich important people certainly did.

   Ordinary people did it as well, but they had jobs. Maintenance workers, engineers, security guards. And? Pilots. The only real difference to this big airport and the community that had sprung up around it? Instead of jumbo jets in its hangars and taking off and landing... it was shuttle runs taking people and supplies back and forth to the various stations.

   Women like men in uniform. You can ask any pilot in the military, and all the girls around where they hang out when on the ground. Pilots are in that "special" category. For the girls, its like getting to spend the night with a rock star, an actor, some important politician or CEO. Pilots? Always were in that special category.

   Joe hung around and nosed around the bars and restaurants. Girls talked in hushed tones and bragged to their girlfriends they had slept with this or that pilot. Some bragged and claimed to have gotten a ride once. The bigger, the more commercialized and routine any system gets? The more there develops little cracks to slip into and around.

   Lots of people itched for a ride up and back. Even if they couldn't afford to stay in the CEO-style little resort up there? There was that thrilling ride up and back. Only a shuttle pilot could grant that. People gossiped about it, and it definitely happened. It was really no different than banging a rock star. Had she really, or just claimed it.

   Everyone had heard about it, though. The ride up? You got to feel the thrust weight. Like being in a race car at maximum throttle accelerating? But on steroids. What fighter pilots felt and experienced, and few others. It was said to be the "deep throat" of riding fast. The ultimate thing. And the weightlessness when up there, before coming back down. Some stations were positioned where they had slight gravity, but not much. You could get a picture snapped of you lifting impossibly heavy objects easily. You looked like a superhero in your snapshot.

   Its not like men didn't nose around and try to figure out a way to weasel into one of these shuttle rides up and back. The right amount of money, the right pilot. Friend or family of the right pilot. Because after all, how does anyone wheedle into anything.

   Joe did the him and haw that reminded him of trying to broach a conversation to get something you technically weren't allowed to have. Like, trying to get someone over 21 to get you beer as a teenager. Some people were better at this than others, it was more art than science. There was the overpaying strategy, to try to guarantee a case of beer to impress your date. There was the close acquaintance method. An older brother of a close friend? Another key way.

   Joe nosed around, trying to locate suspects. He eased into, dropped hints, and backed off of several pilots in the bars and diners. Like a lot of things? It reminded Joe of trying to get that first sex act. A seemingly impossible task. The more you wanted it? The more it worked against you. It was when you sort of gave up, oh what's the use. Then? You were calm, cool and collected. Then? Some girl all but grabbed you and wanted you. Weird maxim of life.

   This ended up being no different. Joe was slowly running out of time and resources. He had entered into the "oh what's the use" phase. A pilot was sitting nearby. Older than he was at his early 30s, but not too old. 40-ish, perhaps. He was quiet and sullen.

   "Joe, right?"

   "Yeah. Do we---"

   "I was with another fly-boy, when you were in a bar. Recognized you. How you doing."

   "Eh."

   "I got hours to kill. Come on. Being a pilot, on shuttle runs? Seems exciting. And it is, when you're up and back. On the ground? God... its boring."

   "Been a pilot your whole life, I bet."

   He sighed, the pilot smiled.

   "Name's Ben."

   "Joe. Everyone calls me Carp."

   They shook hands.

   "Yeah. Air force. College, but I was really preparing to get into Air Force flight school. Didn't do the jet fighter thing. Ended up flying transports. The jet trainers? Small, fast, nimble things. Like a sports car. The jumbo transports? Like driving the biggest bus you ever drove. Got into this. More like the jet trainers again, but like a tiny jumbo transport, too."

   "You like it."

   "Oh, hell yeah. I mean, what kid doesn't want to fly jets, you know. Hell. Even people with little personal planes, love it. Its a thing. Man wasn't meant to fly? Can't tell pilots that. So. What do you do."

   "I'm, uh... working on my doctorate. Grad student."

   "Oh. You're here for the engineering, or something like that, I guess."

   "Not really."

   "What. Trying to score a G ride, then."

   "Not really."

   "Well. Joe. There's only so many people here. You got your pilots. You got your workers, that's ground and stations both. You got your suits, every business has suits running around. Then? There's the rich people, doing the resort in the sky thing. That? Leaves girls looking to fuck pilots, which a lot of us like, don't get me wrong. Then? Any guy hanging around, is... like a kid wanting a ride in that sports car. Which is what I got you figured on."

   "What. You gonna tell on me?"

   Ben smiled.

   "Hell. Like it hurts anything."

   "Yeah. I kind of gave up trying. Reminds me of trying to get laid for the first time, as a kid."

   Ben laughed.

   "I'm straight, got a wife and a kid. Can't help you with either one, that way."

   Ben had an easy smile and way. That older, easy smile. Some people have that, and he did.

   "Your life going okay? Close to getting a doctor on your name. Sounds like you got your ducks in a row."

   "Its not bad."

   "Glad to hear it. Got a girl?"

   "Yeah."

   "She wonderful?"

   "Yeah... she is."

   "Good for you. And her."

   "Thanks."

   "Enjoy it, kid. I know you're not that young? You look 30. But... enjoy it."

   "What..."

   Ben smiled a grin again. What was it... he knew that smile, but couldn't place it.

   "Everything. You just... never know how long it all will last."

   "You... divorced, or something like that? Don't mean nothing by it. Like I can hear it in your voice. See it on your face."

   "Eh. You don't want to hear my problems. Me? I never was a whiner."

   "Okay."

   After a short pause.

   "I'm not divorced. Here..."

   Phone. Picture of the wife and kid. A few more pictures, a few little movies.

   "Pilot. Good job. Nice wife and kid. You... got it all."

   "Eh. For now. Like I said. Enjoy it. All of it."

   "She... leaving you? I'm sorry."

   Ben looked straight ahead. Shrugged.

   "No. I'm leaving her."

   "Hey. Sorry it ain't working out."

   "Eh. You ever... you can't talk about something, with people that matter, that you should talk with about it? But... you just can't. Hell. Some stranger. Bar, diner. That? Safer. You probably don't know what I'm talking about there."

   Suddenly, Joe caught the man's demeanor. Attitude. Way. It reminded him? Of... him. When he was preparing to leave Adelaide and try this. He might not know this man's deal? But he knew that look, that vibe.

   "Actually? I do. You have no idea."

   "Really."

   Joe gave him his best sideways look. The little grin, the look. Then, he went back to looking at his coffee or straight ahead.

   "Hey. Maybe you do then. Who goes first. What do we call this. Stranger therapy."

   "You? Would have to go first. Because when you hear mine? You'll think I flipped my wig. But? I can prove it. Go on."

   "Hell, okay. With a set up like that? How could I refuse."

   They each got another coffee, as the waitress came around and filled them up. Joe waited for Ben to start. You can't prod this. They do it when they're ready.

   "I'm leaving the wife and kid. Soon. Not like you think, though. Don't know exactly when? But... too soon."

   "Some kinda problem, then."

   "You don't get it. You ever talk, to a dead man before?"

   "Like, a ghost? No, I---"

   "You're talking to one. Right now. I don't want to leave the wife and kid. They're... fantastic. But... its not my call."

   "Oh, you're---"

   "Yeah. Don't matter what it is. But... you know how people get life threatening illnesses. There's a chance, they can get help?"

   "Sure."

   "Yeah, well. I got the other kind."

   Joe didn't know what to say? So he said nothing.

   "I can't bring myself to tell the wife, the kid. Don't want them going through that. I just... they're part of the wonderful things in my life. Right up there with flying. Why cut that short, with this. You know?"

   Joe nodded. He knew a similar feeling.

   "I know what I'm facing. I seen it. When I was younger? I know what's coming. I don't want to go through it that way. I seen it. That last year? That ain't a year in your life, that's your first year of dead. Its too late then. They come, they take all your guns. You can't drive. People around day and night. You're... trapped and can't get out then."

   Joe said nothing. Wait.

   "Everything you worked for? It goes. They keep you alive, and... the medical people? Slowly get it all. That stuff? That's mine. To leave my wife and kid, you know? Not for the medical people to... well, they don't steal it, but... they get it."

   Say nothing. Do nothing.

   "I can't even... do it now. Cancel the life insurance, I do it. They got you coming and going."

   Wait.

   "The worst part? I don't want them seeing me like that. I want remembered, like... they know me. So. You see my cards I got dealt. I gotta do it. But I can't do it, or it takes away from keeping my wife and kid, which is what really matters. Then? There's time. I took a lighter schedule. Spend a little more time with the wife and kid. Enjoy what little of that's left. And? A couple more flights. I love that, too. Pilots can't fly when they're terminal. Afraid I might do... you know. I wait one ride too many? No more flying. I wait too long, the medical people got me in their clutches, and I'm trapped. Hard to know how and when, to make my move. So? That's me. Your turn."

   Joe waited for a sip of coffee.

   "You know when you read a book, the old kind. With paper."

   "Yeah, sure."

   "Some books, have a preface. Little paragraph or two up front. Then, you read the book."

   "Okay."

   "One. You hear me out. Two? When I'm done, you will guaranteed think? I flipped my wig. But I can prove it. And, the proof? Will amaze you. Sound entertaining? You got nothing to lose, you can only get entertainment out of it. What do you say."

   "Shit. A build up, a... preface, like that? How could I say no. Go on. I? Agree."

   "Okay. Here we go."