Sky Queen Read online

  SKY QUEEN

  Copyright © 2019 by Judy Kundert

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, digital scanning, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please address She Writes Press.

  Published June 2019

  Printed in the United States of America

  Print ISBN: 978-1-63152-523-0

  E-ISBN: 978-1-63152-524-7

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018964897

  For information, address:

  She Writes Press

  1569 Solano Ave #546

  Berkeley, CA 94707

  Interior design by Tabitha Lahr

  She Writes Press is a division of SparkPoint Studio, LLC.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  To my husband Pat,

  thanks for all your support along the way.

  1

  KATHERINE RELEASED A SIGH and leaned into her standing yoga position and a forward yoga position. This was her usual routine to start her day after a red eye flight. Now, her body zoomed with ideas. Snapping her fingers and moving to the psychedelic rhythm of the record playing on the record player, she drifted into a surrealist chant of the things she had to do. “Finish prepping for my midterm exam. Pack for my trip to Greece. Take—”

  The click, click, click of her roommate’s four-inch heels tapping on their bedroom’s hardwood floor quashed the music. The scent of Jungle Gardenia perfume floated down the hallway and into Katherine’s nostrils and made her sneeze. Charlotte bounced into their bedroom and tossed her treasured Pucci purse on her twin bed.

  Katherine’s roommate looked gorgeous in an emerald-green satin costume. Like a gust of wind, she dashed to her dresser on her side of their bedroom. “It’s rush time. I have the early

  7 p.m. shift at the Playboy Mansion. Hefner has a special party tonight.” She paused to catch her breath. “I have to dress for work here tonight since I and five other Bunnies are doing a publicity gig in Lincoln Park. It’s for a Chicago Tribune article about Hefner’s Playboy Mansion.” She paused and nodded to her friend. “Hey! You’ll get stoned just listening to that stuff. But it looks like you’ve already succumbed.”

  Without waiting for Katherine to respond, she gazed in the mirror and plopped a rabbit-ear headband atop her upswept auburn hair.

  Katherine lifted her shoulders and stretched her arms to the ceiling. Leaning back on her pillow, she yawned and sighed, “Oh, hi, Char. I was just finishing my final review of my class notes for my exam before my afternoon San Fran turnaround. I’m wiped out, but I think I finally know about Oedipus, Prometheus, and all those other spectacular Greek gods.”

  Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “Yuk. Why do you spend your time on that stuff? Greek gods? Hey, remember what you told me, that we’d have a blast in Chicago?”

  Katherine rubbed her temples and released a deep breath. “Yeah, and we’re having fun. Who got us tickets to the Monkees’ concert next month?” Katherine glanced down at her class notes and gave her friend a half smile. Jacob Burckhardt’s History of Greek Culture will bore Charlotte, but I’ll share it anyway. “The Greek gods got me thinking about life and times today. For some reason, studying this stuff made my dad pop into my head. He was always telling me about working and living in the Windy City, where he fought for the rights of people, like the ones who lived in the Cabrini-Green public housing projects. And now my dear father is still helping others. You know, he spends a couple of weekends a month offering his legal services to the Chippewa in the Chippewa Valley. Look at me, what have I done with my life? Who am I helping?” Katherine organized her notes and textbooks. Seeking silent approval, she nodded toward her parents’ picture centered on her dresser. A sterling silver frame set off the handsome couple, a tall, handsome blond Germanic man with a determined look standing next to an exotic, raven-haired woman with bronze skin and high cheek bones.

  Charlotte wrinkled her brow, shrugged, and continued dressing for work. With ease, she inserted two foam rubber cups into her bodice to boost her cleavage.

  She stood up and released a quick breath. With an abrupt turn, she grabbed her handbag from atop the pile of mod dresses, bell-bottom pants, and hot pants.

  “Oops! Sweetie, I almost forgot. Here’s the invitation that I promised you.” She handed it to Katherine.

  Katherine leaped up to reach for the glossy card. She examined the raised gold lettering: “Si Non Oscillas, Noli Tintinnare.” In parentheses was the translation: “If you don’t swing, don’t ring.” The gold doorknocker and rabbit head proved it was an official invitation to the Playboy Mansion on Chicago’s luxurious North State Parkway.

  Katherine smiled and laughed about the promise of a new adventure. “Wow, Char, this is cool! I can’t wait to see inside that place.”

  Charlotte rummaged through the heap of clothes, retrieved her fluffy Bunny tail, and threw it into her handbag. She jabbered on to her roommate as she grabbed her bow-tie collar and slapped it around her neck. “Aren’t you thrilled about this invitation? It’s a pretty unique one too. It’s a press preview party for the Playboy Penthouse event. Lady, there’ll be tons of celebrities hustling for some face time. To get your ticket, I told our publicity coordinator that you’re a journalism student who’d like to write a feature article about the Playboy Mansion for a journalism class assignment. Chill out, girl. I know you’re not studying journalism, but you can fake it.”

  Journalism student. Charlotte’s words shattered Katherine’s dreams of an exotic escapade at the Playboy Mansion. Gulp. In her excitement about the party she missed the date on the invitation. It glared at her like a Do Not Enter sign. “Yikes, I have a History of Greek Culture exam that night. What should I do?”

  Katherine closed her eyes and released a breath. If her parents found out that she’d taken an incomplete for a course exam to go to a Playboy party, they’d call in her school loan and demand that she pay them back with triple interest. Katherine recalled her father’s words when she left Beloit College to become a stewardess two-years ago. ‘Don’t forget your education.’ And me, I promised myself that I would finish my degree. Is this not a promise to break? Hey, this Northwestern class is a one-time thing, I’ll find a way to complete my program at Beloit. I’ll still keep my promise? Charlotte went out of her way for me. We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to harm our friendship.

  Katherine sighed. “It’s also the night before the trip to Greece E. J. and I have planned.” Katherine hurled the invitation on her bed, threw her hands on her hips, and turned to Charlotte to look for consolation.

  “Katherine! You asked and asked for this invitation. It’s a pretty incredible one too. Sarah Vaughn, Pete Seeger, Harry Belafonte, and lots more celebs are going to be there. I stuck my neck out to get this invitation for you. And now you’re fussing about silly things. You should be jumping up and down with joy. Charlotte pursed her lips. With a shaking hand, she snapped the white wrist collars on each wrist She thrust her hands in the air and sighed.

  Katherine wrinkled her brow and slipped her fingers through her hair. I can’t believe my personal sabbatical will be over soon. I’ve had experiences that I couldn’t have in college. But with all my travels, new people and places, I let time slip by me. Two years to make up this incomplete course feels like forever. It’s time to revisi
t my promise to myself. Do I still want my education? Katherine tilted her head and gazed out the bedroom window at Lincoln Park. Her mind drifted back to that spring day in April 1965 when she’d bounced into her Beloit College undergraduate anthropology advisor’s office to tell her about the job offer to become a stewardess. Her advisor tempered her congratulations on the job offer, while reinforcing Katherine’s desire to finish her degree. She could still hear her words. “Katherine, you have too much to offer. You must continue your education.” Katherine closed her eyes and recalled her advisor’s support and belief in Katherine’s dream. The advisor had given her a waiver to finish the one course at Northwestern. Now her two-year time limit was fast approaching. If she didn’t complete the course now, she might not be able to continue working on her degree. What if her Northwestern University professor did not give her another incomplete for the course? Katherine raised her eyebrows and slipped her fingers over her lips. Hm, maybe I can work something out with my Beloit College advisor. Impossible, perhaps, but I can make it a possibility. Char has been my best friend forever. And she did move to Chicago to be my roommate. If she’d stayed in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, she’d still be working at her mother’s art gallery.

  “I’m sorry. I do appreciate all your trouble. I wonder if E. J. and I could come for an hour or so. We’ll need some sleep since our flight to Greece leaves at 5:30 a.m. the next morning.” Katherine placed a hand on Charlotte’s white wrist collars.

  “Don’t put yourself out!” Charlotte pulled her wrists away, turned to the mirror, and gave herself one last check.

  “Hey, I’m a real rat fink. I hope you’ll forgive me someday. Remember all the fun times we’ve had? What about the time Dad got us tickets to the Packer/Bears playoff game and you left me high and dry and went off to that frat keg party in Madison?”

  “Okay, okay, you’re right. But hey, what’s the problem? You’re leaving for a vacation. You could sleep on the plane. And why do you even bother with school? I thought you left Beloit to become a stew and forget about school? All that studying is your hang-up.” Charlotte sighed. “Maybe you and E. J. can make a quick pit stop at the party. There’ll be so many people wandering around; no one will notice when you sneak out early. You’ll have a fake press badge and remember to carry a small notebook. Chat up a few people and act like you know everyone there. Must go now. Don’t forget, I’m moving to the Playboy Mansion. Ciao.” Charlotte chuckled and slipped into her London Fog trench coat and waved to her friend.

  Katherine exhaled a gust of air and stared at the invitation on her bed next to her class notes. Katherine tilted her head and chuckled when she surveyed her roommate’s unmade bed buried under a mountain of leotards, hot pants, and bodysuits. Katherine thought that their beds were a metaphor for the young women’s extreme opposite lifestyles—Katherine, a bookworm, and Charlotte, a glamor girl. She’ll never understand my desires. I only took a leave of absence from Beloit to be a stewardess for a grand adventure. She thought becoming a stewardess was the coolest thing I’d ever done. I still remember her words when I got accepted to stewardess training: ‘That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever done.’

  Glancing at the picture of her and Charlotte in their Girl Scout uniforms, Katherine remembered that her Chippewa great-grandmother, Hanging Cloud, and the tribe’s noble medicine man, Soaring Eagle, had told her to act like a bird and fly high to the stars. They had also told Charlotte that the tribe’s great white rabbit Manabush would lead her. Katherine sighed and wiped a single tear from her check as she reflected on her great-grandmother’s and Soaring Eagle’s prophetic instructions.

  Charlotte’s hectic clamor gave way to an enveloping calmness. The silence gave Katherine time to collect her thoughts and prepare for her workday. She bounced on her toes as she slid the closet door open to a line of blue uniforms—two summer ones and two winter ones. Each garment was draped in precise alignment on hangars and waited for its call to action. Today, she summoned the summer suit, the light blue boxy jacket, and a refined high-neck white blouse tucked into a free-form flared skirt. In less than two minutes, Katherine glowed and felt like a happy winsome young woman. She became an airline hostess ready to smile, entertain, and serve each lucky passenger who boarded her plane. Standing on tiptoes, she reached for her sugar swoop hat. It topped off her outfit in a way that suited her conservative taste. She appreciated that her airline maintained a traditional brand image and didn’t put their stewardesses in sexy garb.

  Katherine sighed when she thought about the first time Bunny Charlotte posed next to her in her official stewardess uniform. Her mind’s eye flashed with a vision of her Cheshire grin. She leaned into a glamor pose with her white-gloved hand holding her standard headpiece, secured with a hatpin. “Don’t I look sexy in this tailored blue suit, little blue hat, and my white gloves. Thousands of admirers storm me every trip. Cameras flash, wolf whistles howl, and hordes of autograph hounds surround me. I can’t escape them. I get exhausted from all the attention. And you think you Bunnies are hot stuff. You’ll never know what it feels like to have men tear themselves apart just to be near a sex symbol like me, the girl in the tailored blue suit with the white gloves. White gloves are much sexier that any white bunny tail.” Katherine remembered how she thought her last line would ace her in a Second City comedy skit.

  The ringing phone jarred her reverie. “Oh, hi, Emma Jean. I have some exciting news. Charlotte gave me an invitation to the Playboy Mansion press party. It’s for the both of us. One thing, please don’t panic; it’s tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, bless her heart, that’s wonderful. Please do thank her for me. I do declare. I’m not panicked. What should I wear?” Emma Jean’s southern charm never failed to give Katherine a warm and cozy feeling.

  With her practical Midwestern roots, Katherine responded, “Well, I haven’t had time to think about that. We can go for an hour or so.”

  “Going to a party for an hour and then abruptly leaving is so impolite, Darlin, it’s only proper to stay until the party ends.” Emma Jean sighed.

  Katherine squirmed. Her friend’s warm southern drawl cooled. Katherine agreed with her. “Yep, but that’s all, cuz we have an early flight the next day. Have to run now. I’ve got a 5 p.m. check-in.”

  “Sure, Darlin’. Happy landings.”

  Just as Katherine dropped the pink princess receiver onto the cradle, she heard a light tap on her bedroom window. A bright nebulous cloud enveloped three black crow feathers hanging fifteen stories up. Katherine’s eyes widened as she surveyed the black plumes that fluttered and stalled outside the window right at her eye level, and she gasped. The swirling quills entranced her as she gazed at the feathers’ soft float up to the heavens. She blinked and wrapped her arms around her shoulders and trembled.

  Katherine’s mind scurried for answers. She recognized the feathers as crow feathers, but there were no crows in Chicago. What does this mean? She wished she could remember what she knew about crow feathers. Katherine didn’t spend time pondering her Chippewa roots and their legend. Why should she? She was only one-eighth Chippewa and looked more like a blonde from German stock. She’d always wanted her mother’s exotic elegance and beauty. People believed her mother came straight from Paris.

  She could never become a full-fledged member of the Chippewa tribe, but her Native American genes were part of her existence. She wondered what made these roots intrude on her life now.

  2

  KATHERINE HELD HER BLUE uniform hat as she dashed through O’Hare Airport’s maze of gray-flannel-suited businessmen. Her pounding heart drummed in sync with the clock at the flight crew desk. A stewardess could not be late for her flight check-in, not even by a minute. Katherine had a perfect record with no late check-ins in her file. The seconds ticked as she bobbed and weaved around travelers in front of retail shops.

  Just then, she slammed into a man with shiny dark hair. He flashed Katherine a lecherous smile. She flinched when she surveyed him in his slim-fitte
d jersey blazer over a black turtleneck shirt. Ick! Not the typical traveler. When she turned to rush away, she bumped his shoulder. The Daily Racing Form, Chicago Sun-Times, and Life magazines fell from his hands to the floor. His face turned stoplight red.

  Katherine sighed and stooped to recover the man’s magazines. She kept her head down as she grabbed the periodicals. Like her cabin crew hostess role she hoisted publications over her head and gave them to the man. Katherine rubbed her neck. Reminder: An on-duty stewardess is ready to serve at all times.

  Katherine jumped up and flung her airline handbag over her shoulder. The bag opened with a jar and its contents—her bid sheet, her makeup-up case, a stewardess in-flight manual, a dog-eared Ancient Greek Mythology paperback, and the Playboy party invitation—floated like leaves on the wind from her purse. She shivered as the contents glided to a landing around his shiny black Chelsea boots.

  Like the first snow of winter, her face blended with the crisp whiteness of her blouse. She swept her hands across her face and gulped.

  The man touched his hand on her wrist and smiled. “Please, I owe you.”

  He leaned toward her. “Here ya go.” Then he stopped and scanned the invitation before he loosened his grasp. “Do you know people at the Playboy Mansion? I got one of these yesterday. It’s one big press party.” His eyes skimmed Katherine from head to toe. She squirmed when she sensed his x-ray vision targeted at the top button of her uniform jacket. She wanted to slap his hands and say, “I’m as untouchable as those Playboy Bunnies.” He grinned and returned the envelope.

  Katherine blinked at his diamond pinky ring when she grabbed the envelope. A red flag warning: do not trust men with pinky rings. Charlotte’s voice echoed in her ear, “Stay clear of them. They’re total sleazebags.”

  But, she thought, he does read Life magazine, and I don’t get super bad vibes from him. “Yes, I’ll be there. Sorry, but I gotta get to my check-in.