“I do not love him, if that’s what you mean. But we have such little time left here. Why continue to be unkind to someone who has been a good friend?”
I nodded, though I was still leery of her motive. I wasn’t sure what had caused Hope’s change of heart, but I prayed shewould continue being thoughtful toward him. He deserved all the kindness we could give him.
If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t know our mother’s name or her family. We wouldn’t know that she had been hanged for being a Quaker andnotfor being accused of witchcraft.
And soon we would know much more.
14
HOPE
JULY 1, 1912
SQUANTUM, MASSACHUSETTS
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride in my new aeroplane?” I asked Grace for the third time that day.
“If God had intended for me to fly,” Grace said as she shaded her eyes to watch Luc complete a figure eight in the Boston Air Meet, “He would have given me wings.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes. “He didn’t give us gills, yet humans have been swimming since the dawn of time.”
She opened her mouth with a retort but closed it and gave me a look that said she had no desire to keep arguing.
Because I was right.
I smiled and returned my gaze to the brilliant blue sky where Luc was entertaining the audience. Over five thousand spectators had come out to the airfield to see the show, and it was in its fourth and final day.
It was estimated that in just two years over seventeen millionpeople had watched Luc fly. He had performed tricks over Niagara Falls, broken and maintained the world’s altitude record several times, and perfected a nosedive recovery from three thousand feet in the air. The last of his tricks had brought him worldwide fame. Several other pilots had died attempting the same trick, though Luc had never had trouble performing it for the crowds.
“I hate this one,” Grace said as she turned away.
Luc was beginning his climb for the nosedive, and I shared her aversion to it. I had been to several exhibitions with him in the past two months, and each time he did it, I held my breath until he was safe on the ground again.
Yet his fearlessness was one of the reasons I loved him. I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“How many more shows must you attend before we leave for your cross-country flight?” Grace asked, keeping her gaze on me and not Luc.
“A half dozen.”
All the plans were set for me to attempt the cross-country trip from September first to September thirtieth. The train cars had been arranged, the route had been mapped out, the painters had been hired to paint the Vin Fiz logo on the bottom of my new Blériot aeroplane, and my parents had agreed to come along.
Since William Randolph Hearst was putting up the prize money, he insisted that reporters from two of his newspapers, theNew York Journaland theLos Angeles Examiner, travel along with the retinue that would follow. Grace would have exclusive rights as a representative for theNew York Globe,and Armour and Company was sending a representative to coordinate appearances for me to promote Vin Fiz along the route.
Until then, I was performing at air meets, trying to earn as much money as possible. Every little bit helped Mama and Daddy.
“Have you talked to Mama?” I asked. “Did Mr. Lorenz extend the deadline for the second payment to October first?”
If I accomplished the flight by September thirtieth, I would wire the payment to him the next day. If not, then there was no way we could save the orphanage—unless, by some miracle, I could make enough money at these air meets.
Grace let out a sigh. “Yes, he is extending the deadline, but Mr. Thurston has just made a second offer, and it’s much larger than the first. Mr. Lorenz has promised to sell the property to Mama and Daddy—but he’s asking more now.”
“That’s extortion! He is already asking more than the building is worth.” If our parents hadn’t been using the building for over twenty years and it weren’t in such a good location, I would have suggested we find another. But no matter where they moved, it would require more money to update and outfit a building than they had.
“I’ve thought more about visiting Mr. Thurston,” she said.
“And say what? That you’re sorry you spent months uncovering the corruption in his factories? Or that you’re sorry for the fines he’s been given by the city? Or the public shaming he’s received? Do you think he’d simply forgive you and forget about his revenge?”
“What else can I do? He can’t get away with this.”
