The driver turned down a side street and was able to pick up a little speed before doubling back and driving along the beachside road. My eyes widened at the number of people who had come out to see the start of my trip. Mama squeezed my hand, and Daddy turned to smile, his dark brown eyes full of pride.
I hoped I wouldn’t disappoint them—and everyone else.
But my real fear was embarrassing Luc.
We’d hardly had a minute alone since my first solo flight, and I was thankful. There had been something in his gaze—and something in my heart—that frightened me that morning. It was easier to stay busy and try to push the feelings aside than to face them and what they could mean.
Sweat ran down my spine as we finally pulled up to the roped-off area where my Blériot sat waiting. The wordVinhad been painted under one wing andFizunder the other. In smaller letters was “The Ideal Grape Drink.” The awaiting train also had the Vin Fiz message painted on both sides with “Five Cents” and “Sold Everywhere” included. There was no question who was sponsoring this trip.
Luc stood next to the Vin Fiz Flyer, speaking to a group of reporters. He had told me that I would answer questions and then the governor of New York would make a speech. After that, I would take off, heading toward my first stop of Middletown, New York, a flight of about seventy miles. It would be the longest flight I had ever made, and my pulse was racing.
Luc’s smile was bright as I stepped out of the automobile to the sound of the cheering crowd. But despite the hundreds of people around me, he was the only one I saw. I was amazed at the confidence he inspired in me.
The next hour felt like ten as I answered endless questions from reporters and then listened to the governor drone on about the advancement of aviation and the historic journey I was about to undertake. William Randolph Hearst made a surprise appearance and handed me a large bouquet of roses, wishing me well. I gave them to my mother to take on the train.
Many people mentioned Hope and how proud she would be of me. I smiled at my parents, knowing Hope would be waiting for a full report tomorrow.
All I wanted was to get on with the flight, but I kept a smile on my face and endured the endless applause from the crowd.
Finally, it was time for me to leave. I put my canvas jacket on over my flying suit and then gladly climbed into the Vin Fiz Flyer just to be done with the questions. I waved at the crowd, blew a kiss to my parents, and took a deep breath.
Luc came up to the aeroplane and leaned close so I could hear him. He smelled good, and when he smiled, his eyes shone with pride and admiration. “I have nothing left to say, but Godspeed. You are ready for this day,mon petit oiseau.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, thankful for his calm reassurance.
He took my hand and brought it to his lips. Pressing a gentle kiss there, he said, just loud enough for me to hear, “My little bird.” I smiled as he let me go and stepped away from the aeroplane. “I will see you in Middletown.”
With that, he motioned to the mechanics to be ready, and I slipped my goggles over my eyes and pulled on my leather gloves. I signaled the front mechanic to turn the propeller, and the plane roared to life.
Everything else faded away as I faced the smooth, sandybeach. The Vin Fiz Flyer pulled against the mechanics like a beast ready to be let loose from its cage—a beast I wasn’t sure I could wrangle, though I would try my very best.
With another wave of my hand, the mechanics let her go, and I was off.
I quickly rose to the sky and banked the aeroplane to head northwest toward Middletown in the Hudson Valley region, at the foothills of the Shawangunk Mountains. Though I was anxious about flying the plane, it felt good to be away from the crowd.
Seventy miles would take me just under an hour and a half, if I had no delays or complications. The Vin Fiz Special, as the train had been named, would meet me there soon after landing. The Special was made up of three cars—a sleeper car, a diner car, and a mechanical shop on rails, filled with spare parts and tools to maintain the flyer at optimal performance.
I had memorized this leg of the journey and watched for landmarks. I flew between fifteen hundred and two thousand feet so I didn’t miss any of them. Across Brooklyn I flew, then over the lower tip of Manhattan, where I could see thousands of people watching for me in Battery Park. The Statue of Liberty stood off to my left, raising her torch above her head like a beacon. No matter how many times I saw her, she still brought tears to my eyes.
I turned my attention to the Hudson River, which ran up the west side of Long Island, and flew low to see the crowds who had lined 12th Avenue.
The motor ran as smooth as ever, and the sunshine sparkled off the water below. Wind rushed past me, cooling my warm body. As I veered west and headed toward Middletown, the crowds behind me and California in front of me, I took a deep, cleansing breath.
I was only thirty days away from saving Mama and Daddy’s orphanage.
The sun was fading behind the Shawangunk Mountains in the western sky as I stood beside the Vin Fiz Flyer and laid my hand on her fuselage. After a day of flying and weeks of nerves, I was exhausted—but exhilarated.
Behind me, the Vin Fiz Special was sitting on a side track in the Middletown depot yard, and the crew was celebrating our first day. Both reporters for theNew York Journaland theLos Angeles Examinerwere in the diner car, as were the two mechanics, the representative for Armour and Company, my parents, and Luc. The chef and porter had served an amazing meal, which I had eaten with enthusiasm. But after the meal, I had slipped away, needing a little time and space to process everything that had happened.
And to look at the telegram I had received upon arriving in Middletown.
Another reporter from theLos Angeles Examinerhad found Tacy. Her name, according to the telegram, was now Tacy Bennet. She was married to Grant Bennet, a film director, and was co-owner of the aptly named Bennet Studios. I also had a home address for her. It was everything I needed to find her when I arrived in California.
I was thrilled—yet apprehensive. What if she didn’t want to meet me? What if she turned me away? What if, like Daddy suggested, I shouldn’t seek her out? Would I mess everything up?
Running my hand along the fabric of the fuselage, I didn’t notice Luc’s arrival until he spoke.
“You should not look so sad. Today was a success.”
