There it was in all its glory. The lights weren’t on but she could still make out the bright yellow of its body and tail in the moonlight that filtered inside, its main rotor blade, all the parts she’d been able to name since she was a little girl.
She was drawn back over to it as if it was a magnet. She ran her fingers along the pilot’s door, imagined what it would be like to open it and get inside, to take off. She looked out at the night sky, stars not visible with the rain tonight, but she could imagine being up there, being free from everything else, being herself, Maya the pilot, not Maya the girl who’d lost her mum, her grandparents, her dad, pretty much.
She tried the door to the helicopter and unsurprisingly it was locked. She circled the aircraft, tried the other door, in awe of this beast she dreamed of flying one day. She couldn’t ignore the passion; it was like a fire inside of her, it would never be extinguished.
It was a split-second decision. She didn’t process it; one minute, she saw the crowbar on the tool bench in the corner and the next thing she knew, she was using it to try to get inside. She had to sit in that pilot’s seat, even if it was only once. She wanted to feel the helicopter beneath her, view the control panels and equipment in the cockpit.
She tried over and over again, the paint coming off, the damage plain to see, but she couldn’t stop until she got in.
She felt a surge of adrenaline, excitement, when finally the door gave in and opened.
She climbed into the pilot seat and put the crowbar down on the other seat next to her. Being inside a helicopter, right here up front where the action took place, was something she dreamed about.
But she wanted more. She leapt out, went over to the hangar doors and pulled them both all the way open so that she could feel as though this were real.
She didn’t know how long she sat there pretending she was a pilot, that she could leave her troubles behind and take to the skies, but it was warm, comforting, the rain hammering the hangar and helipad beyond. In here, inside this aircraft, she was someone else.
When she grew tired of pretending, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She’d take a minute, only a minute.
But she shouldn’t have done that.
The next thing she knew, she was waking to a rapping on the pilot side window.
Shit.
And now someone was opening the door, exposing her.
‘Well, well, well, what have we here?’ The man locked her in his gaze.
She froze, she daren’t say a word. How could she?
It was fight or flight. She leapt to the other seat, lifting the crowbar out of her way, expecting to open the door from inside, jump down and run off into the night. But the man had climbed in himself and she turned to defend herself, the crowbar in her hand.
Smash.
The crowbar didn’t defend her but it did smash into the flight instruments on the dashboard and she didn’t need to look closely to know her split-second reaction had caused damage.
He took the crowbar from her and when he backed out of the aircraft, she followed after him. She couldn’t do much else. He’d be too quick for her if she tried to get out the other side, she should’ve known that.
The rain continued to pour beyond the open hangar doors, a rumble of thunder sounded, a flash of lightning reminded her that a storm had closed in.
Her legs went weak; she slumped to the floor.
‘Let me help you,’ said the man and she looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. ‘Come with me.’ He took something from his pocket and showed it to her. A warrant card. ‘I’m a police officer. You can trust me. I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble.’
And in that moment, she’d really believed him.
38
Nadia was at her side the minute she finished telling them the whole story, or at least most of it. Maya’s mind briefly went through the options – was she going to be yelled at? Told to go away and never come back?
But it was neither. Nadia enveloped her in a hug which went on and on and she only broke it off so Frank could do the same.
‘Now, now,’ Frank murmured into her hair, ‘it sounds like an ordeal for you, a terrible accident, that’s all.’
‘I remember hearing about it,’ Nadia recalled suddenly. ‘There was a lot of damage.’
‘There was,’ said Maya. It wasn’t only the door and damage to the interior of the helicopter. Leaving the hangar door open like that on the night of a big storm had caused untold amounts of damage to the hangar and more to the aircraft. The newspapers had reported it, the headlines sensationalising the accident and the weather damage that soon became an act of vandalism, at least in the eyes of the press and the entire town. The helicopter was costly to repair, the crew hadn’t been able to go out in the helicopter until it was all fixed and rechecked for safety. Lives were lost because of her recklessness.
