The weather took a turn for the worse that evening, with rain soaking the farm after midnight. Rose awoke to the sound of raindrops drumming on the metal roof of the house. She rolled over in the bed, her hair fanning out over her arms. Through the open window she watched the water as it cascaded to the ground. Would it stop in time for her to fly this afternoon? She wondered, as the staccato beat lulled her back to sleep.

The sound of the rain playing a crescendo on the roof awoke her sometime after dawn. Rose stood arms over head and stretched, feeling the muscles in her legs and calves relaxing from the pull. The gloom and rhythm of the rain had bestowed a rare and much-needed gift, a night of rest devoid of dreams. She leaned out the window inhaling the sharp morning scent of grass and moisture. In the distance she could see sunlight filtering through the bruised, shredded clouds.

Not long now Jack, today I will fly.

After dressing, Rose crept down the stairs and surprisingly found the kitchen empty. A glance at the mantle clock in the parlor told her it was not as early as she imagined. Sarah, it seemed, also decided to take advantage of the weather to sleep in. She smiled to herself as she made a cup of coffee before heading out onto the porch. Life is what you make of it, she thought as she sipped her hot drink and nibbled on a biscuit left over from dinner last evening. Today she would learn how adventurous Rose Dawson was.

Or how foolish.

The cool mist fighting with the rising humidity of August curled the loose tendrils of hair from her braid. The cloud-filtered light was still dismal, casting a grayish pallor across the airfield. She sat in the wicker rocker that had become her confessional and thought over her actions last evening. Rose never imagined Sarah would become her confessor. It felt good to tell Sarah about Jack. Having someone else know what an extraordinary person he was made it seem all the more tangible that he ever existed at all. She had her moments when she was not able to get a clear picture in her mind of his smile, or his blue eyes. But last night, in the telling Sarah, she was once again able to see him clearly.

Starlings converged on the lawn to take partake of worms brought out by the warm rain and wet ground. It was a wonderful feeding ground. Rose stood slowly as not to startle them, tearing small pieces of her biscuit to feed to the birds. They chirped happily as they massed on one small crumb before taking off in unison for the sky. She leaned over the railing, watching them in flight silently, the large black mass turning as one before taking to the gray clouds.

For months now, flying was the most important goal Rose had set. She was surprised to find nervousness frolicking with her stomach. Rose pulled on her ear in a gesture of self-doubt. What if she wasn't good enough? What if she crashed the plane? What if she flew up into the sky only to be sick? She sighed deeply. What if I let Charlie down? She thought. More importantly, what if I let myself down? So many unanswered questions. Why now was she having all these second thoughts? Why today, of all days? There were no easy answers to these questions of self-doubt. She began to worry her cuticle, grimacing slightly at the taste of a forgotten swatch of grease under her nail. She was growing more uncertain what she was doing was right.

She looked over towards the hangar, straightening as she noticed Charlie's truck parked in front. He had not been expected to return until mid-morning. She opened the screen door, grabbed a barn coat and took off at a crisp jog, holding the coat over her head to shield her from the rain. It was difficult trying to pull open the door and keep the jacket above her head. She was soaked and shivering by the time she entered the hangar. The sound of the downpour echoed loudly throughout the metal structure. This was the first time she did not feel comforted by the sight of the plane. She sighed as she ran her hand over the gleaming underbelly. The rain grew to a roar as it pounded on the steel roof. She made her way silently to the back office.

"Charlie?" She said as she knocked on the doorframe.

Charles Adler raised his head from the logbook. "Hey kiddo, come on in and sit." He waved her towards a wooden chair that sat across from his desk. The walls of the small office were covered with flight maps from the region. On a bookshelf to the right flight logs lined up neatly in a row.

"Some weather were having, huh?" He asked as he looked back down at the book. "Looks like you caught the brunt of it out there."

Rose sat on her hands on the chair, to keep from biting her nails. "It should clear by noon." She said as Charlie closed the book with a thump.

"I guess those half-assed meteorology lessons I gave you came in handy." He rolled his chair over to the shelf and filed the book with the others. "Sarah still asleep?"

Rose nodded absently. "We were not expecting you until later this morning."

Charlie smiled. "I couldn't sleep. So as soon as it was light enough I drove home. So are you ready to fly today?" He said turning his full attention to her.

"I'm ready." She said, her voice quivering as apprehension rippled through her.

"You're nervous." It was not a question, more of a statement.

Rose nodded.

Charlie smiled at her gently. "I would have been uneasy if you weren't nervous. The nervousness is natural. It should pass once we are in the air."

"If it doesn't?"

"Rose, you'll do fine. What happened to the girl four months ago who demanded to be taught to fly?"

Rose chuckled softly as she looked at the ceiling.

"The first time I flew, I spent the morning in the privy puking my guts out." Charlie laughed as Rose's nose curled up in disgust. "Robbie was the same way. Only Doug had a stomach of steel. But then he was always the best flyer of the bunch. It is natural to be frightened. You're gonna be thousands of feet in the air with no safety net."

"That visual picture is not helping me relax, Charlie"

Charlie held his hand up. "But I'll be with you. Sitting right behind you. I would not have told you it was time to fly if I didn't believe in your ability to get the job done. This is what you worked for remember? This is the chance you asked for to prove yourself. I'm not trying to pressure you. If you don't think you're ready, then you're not ready. It's not a big deal. We can do it again another day."

Rose shook her head vehemently. "No. I can do this. I've conquered bigger obstacles than this and survived. This is small potatoes compared to what I've been through."

"I don't doubt that to be true, Rose. But only you will know when the time is right to fly. All I am saying is if you don't want to go into the air today, so be it. I won't hold it against you."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Shoot." Charlie leaned forward as he folded his hands on the desk. He was taken aback by the sudden intensity in Rose's cerulean blue eyes.

"Do you honestly think I am ready?"

Charlie sighed as he leaned back in his chair. He looked at her thoughtfully for a few moments. "Do I think you're ready? Does it really matter what I think?" At her nod he continued. "Rose Dawson, you were born ready for anything life throws your way. But I also think that if you do not get in that plane today," he pointed at the ceiling, "and fly the opportunity will be gone. There will be no second chances. I don't know who you have to prove yourself to." He put up his hand for silence when Rose opened her mouth to protest. "Not to me. You proved yourself the moment you decided to get your manicured hands dirty."

Rose bent her head and studied her hands. The fingers were callused; the nails chipped and eternally dirty from the long hours working on the Jenny. "But there is something deep inside that is driving you to succeed. If you do not get in that plane today, you will unequivocally let that part of yourself down. Enough, I think, to never get in a plane again. So yes, to finally answer your question, I do think you are ready to fly."

She looked at him full in the face for a moment, almost gauging to see if he spoke the truth. A faintly eager look flashed in her eyes as she stood, straightening her shoulders and cleared her throat. "Okay. Let's do it."

They spent the rest of the morning plotting their pattern of flight. Charlie started a log to record all the hours she spent in the air. An aura of excitement began to encircle them as they poured over the terrain maps. Rose listened enraptured as she memorized Charlie's directions. Once in the air they would not be able to hear one another over the wind and the engine. He showed her the hand signals they would be using to communicate; patiently watching Rose until she had them committed to memory. The sign they were waiting for came when the rain stopped beating against the steel roof.

They walked out of the office silently. Forgotten was the frustration and self-doubt musings of the morning. Rose stopped and inhaled the scent of castor oil that was one of the familiar characteristics of the Jenny. She rubbed the plane for luck, hearing in her mind the same litany over and over. "…Come Josephine in my flying machine and its up she goes…up she goes…" Charlie opened the large door, shielding his eyes as they were assaulted with the bright sunlight.

She raised her hand to her brow, blocking the light. Will I see you in the clouds, Jack? Will you be near me as I soar like a bird in the sky? Will you feel me, as close to Heaven as I can be? I will be searching for you among the clouds, my love.

A slight breeze ruffled her curls, blowing from the east and breaking her reverie. She caught the scent of conte crayon and smiled. She raised her face to the warm sun. "I love you, Jack." She whispered.

Together, Rose and Charlie pulled the plane out onto the tarmac. The change in the weather was almost uncanny. The heavens were clear blue, without a trace of the clouds that covered the sky in the morning. Everything around the airfield shone like a polished penny. She could still hear drips of rain trickling down the side of the hangar. Her heart swelled with anticipation. She breathed in the smell of clean, fresh air one more time before running back to the house to change into her flying clothes.

"Good morning, Sarah." She said breathlessly as she ran through the kitchen and up the stairs to her room. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she saw the new clothes lain out on the bed. A new pair of black trousers and calf high kid leather boots. A brown leather bomber jacket and a white silk scarf completed the ensemble. She sighed, closing her eyes as she picked up the scarf and rubbed its softness against her cheek.

"A good pilot must be prepared for every situation that arises. But they must also look the part. We could not have you flying in a pair of hand-me-down dungarees. I decided if you were going to be a pilot, you needed to look like one too." Sarah swept into the room, smiling as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

"Oh Sarah, you shouldn't have." Rose said, overwhelmed by her generosity.

"Of course I should have. I did the same thing for my boys before they took to the air."

"But…" Rose faltered, unable to bring the words to her lips to say she was not a family member.

"You are to me like a daughter, Rose Dawson. As much a part of my family as a person can be. Besides, it is my money and I shall bestow gifts on whomever I choose. Today I chose you."

Rose's eyes filled with a different type of tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much for everything." She said as she hugged Sarah.

Sarah patted her back and pulled away. "You go on up in the air, honey and show me just how good you are."

Rose nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. Sarah left as silently as she arrived as Rose continued to finger the scarf. How could complete strangers treat her with more respect than her own flesh and blood? Rose wondered as she silently undressed. The trousers clung to her like a second skin. Sarah had chosen the correct sizes for everything. She must have checked Rose's clothes for her measurements. She pulled the boots up over her trousers amazed at how comfortable they were. She tucked in her shirt as she walked down the stairs. She only stopped long enough to primp for Sarah. They were both laughing as they walked together to the hangar.

The pre-flight check required her full attention. It felt odd, knowing that if anything went wrong, she would have no one to blame but herself. She shook her head to clear it of these obtuse thoughts. Rose walked around the plane silently checking the wires and the ailerons. The Jenny was gassed, the engine tuned. She had completed the scut work the day before while Charlie was in Chicago. The Jenny was ready to fly.

Rose zipped up her jacket as Charlie came out of the hangar throwing the keys to the plane in the air. He stopped for a second to take in her appearance, giving her a wide smile of approval. She pulled her flight cap over her braid just before Charlie opened the door to the small open-air cockpit.

"Here, let me." Sarah said as she took the scarf from Rose's hands. Sarah tied it loosely around Rose's neck, leaving the two long pieces to trail down her back. Rose threw one long end over her shoulder theatrically as she pulled on her leather gloves, earning another wide smile from Sarah. Charlie offered his hand to help her into the front seat. She sat down, marveling that this was actually going to happen. It was almost surreal, like a dream.

"This is how we are going to do it. I'll do the take off; we'll ascend about five thousand feet and I will knock on the plane to signal that you are a go for taking over the controls."

Rose nodded as she tightened her safety belt. "Here we go." she mumbled as she pulled her goggles down over her eyes. She felt the plane tilt as Charlie maneuvered himself in the back seat. She waved to Sarah as Charlie started the engine. Feeling the engine rumble throughout the plane after working on it for so long was a visceral experience. When she closed her eyes she could see the workings of the engine clearly as they labored to bring the plane to flight. Charlie taxied the plane onto the runway, speeding up as they traveled down the concrete tarmac. There were no shadows across her heart as Charlie opened up the throttle. She cast a long glance at the familiar field as she felt the tail of the plane go up. The wheels began to skim the ground and quite suddenly, they were airborne.

Rose could feel the wind in her teeth, realizing much to her chagrin she was smiling. She let out a whoop of exhilaration as a gust of air rushed by. How was it possible that flying opened a door to her soul that she never knew existed? The memories of another type of flying filled her mind. They were so high in the sky. It was as if she could see clear to Kansas. The plains stretched endlessly, the horizon millions of miles away.

Before she realized it Charlie was knocking on the plane, indicating the time had come for her to take the controls. She looked over the side of the plane as she took the stick in her hands. The ground looked alien to her, trees that were forty feet high were diminished to the size of a child's toy. Acres of green fields were reduced to tiny square pockets with beige lines separating their space. She felt an incredible sense of calm, almost as she and the Jenny had become one entity. She banked to the left, feeling the Jenny respond almost instantly. There was no nervousness, every doubt that she felt hours before vanished the moment the tires left the ground. Everything Charlie taught her came to fruition with surprising clarity.

"Jack, Oh Jack! I'm flying, I'm really flying!" She shouted over the wind and the engine noise. The propeller in the front of the plane spun at such high velocity. She laughed as she banked the plane to the right. She handled the controls with the ease of an experienced flier. Rose chose to do some S turns, then flew in tight lazy eight's. Charlie was very impressed with her easy style, surprised at how well she seemed to fly on sheer instinct. Her movements with the stick caused the place to fly gracefully, more gracefully then he himself had ever flown. She dipped the wings, dropping their altitude, then pulled the stick back to raise the plane towards the sun. "…Up, up a little bit higher…Come Josephine in my flying machine…" The words to the song flew out of her mouth only to be swallowed by the wind.

"Oh Jack, how I wish you were here." She whispered. It was the first time in forever her voice did not choke on his name. She placed her hand on her heart, where she had placed his memory many years before.

After what seemed like minutes, Charlie was knocking on the plane. He pointed to his watch and then to the ground. He indicated through hand signals that she should try to land the plane. She nodded as she decreased her pressure on the throttle. She watched her controls diligently, making sure to keep one eye on the rapidly approaching ground. Once she was ready to land, she killed the engine, feeling the wheels skip on the ground. She pushed forward on the stick while placing increasing pressure on the foot brake. The plane glided to a stop right outside of the hangar.

Rose jumped out of the cockpit with her arms extended over her head, whooping with joy. Sarah came running over to the plane from her perch on the front porch. "I did it!" Rose exclaimed. "Oh my God! That was the most amazing experience of my life! I have never felt that free!"

Charlie climbed down from his seat. He too was smiling broadly. "I told you Rose. You were ready for anything." Rose raised her goggles on top of her cap and grabbed Charlie's hands. They danced around in a circle like excited children playing ring a round the rosie.

Sarah joined the fray, the three of them laughing and hugging. When they began to settle down Sarah picked up a large black box she had placed on the ground before the dance began.

"Okay Rose, we have to record this moment for prosperity. Let me take your picture."

Rose smiled ecstatically as Sarah motioned her back over to the plane. " There you go…wait a minute, put your leg up on the wheel. Okay. Perfect." Rose complied, also placing her hand on the cockpit. Sarah unfolded the camera and placed it to her face. She took two shots, one for Rose, and one for her wall in the parlor. Now, no matter where the road took Rose, she would always remember the Adlers and the day she learned to fly.

When she was up in the air she had nothing to fear. She felt no pain, no loneliness. For the first time in years, Rose Dawson was at peace.