Sky Queen Page 7

  Katherine took in a slow breath and released it with a sense of freedom. Life and its adventure called out to her.

  Ready for another day in the blue skies, Katherine glanced in the mirror and reviewed her mental checklist: blue sugar scoop hat secured with the hatpin, lipstick perfect, and no runs in her nylons. She smiled. I can’t wait for a new journey.

  10

  “WELCOME ABOARD OUR FLIGHT 19 headed to New York.” Captain Jack Armstrong’s voice drifted over the PA system. “The skies are clear; winds are calm. Get ready for a smooth flight tonight and enjoy the hospitality of your charming stewardesses.”

  Carol, Katherine’s first-class flying partner, chuckled as the DC-8 climbed to flying altitude. “Hey, let’s get everyone drunk, and then you and I will seem like every man’s dream women.”

  “Okay, but if the kids barf, you can clean it up.”

  “Geez, I remember you from last month. Didn’t you puke when you handed that mother the air sick bag for her little boy?” Carol asked.

  Katherine gulped. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I can’t take blood or vomit.”

  “I have my issues too. Flying scares the pants off me,” Carol said.

  “Oh? Why’d you become a stewardess, then?”

  Carol leaned closer and continued. “I’m on my way to Hollywood. My head waitress job at Chuck’s Truck Stop in Spotted Horse, Wyoming, was a dot in the road on the way to Deadwood, South Dakota. Customers told me how beautiful I was and that I should go to Hollywood. I thought I should become a stewardess and let someone discover me.”

  Katherine gave Carol a half smile. How could that woman even pass the airline stewardess appearance standards? Did they notice her pointed nose, bug eyes, and frizzy hair? I’m not catty, just honest. Katherine felt like biting her tongue. She reminded herself not to be judgmental. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  Carol nodded toward the cockpit. “Hey, how about a night of clubbing in New York tonight? The guys up front wanted me to ask you. It’ll be a blast with Steve, the second officer. He’s a regular at the best clubs in Greenwich Village.”

  “Darn it,” Katherine said, feigning disappointment. “I have a date tonight.”

  “Emma Jean mentioned you met a New York guy the last time I flew with her.”

  The hair on the back of Katherine’s neck bristled. She wondered why her best friend had told this chatterbox that Adam was her “New York guy.” He’s my friend and nothing more. “She did? What did she say?”

  “Oh, not much. Emma Jean and I bumped into him at LaGuardia. He likes you. We could see it in his eyes when Emma Jean mentioned you. And you met him on a flight. I never meet guys on my flights. How did you get him to keep asking you out?”Katherine recalled her stewardess life lesson. Find an exit for when you need to remove yourself from unpleasant or dangerous emergencies. “Oh. I’ll tell you later. I have to do a galley check for the meal service.”

  Adam Goldstein’s bronze tan glowed from his Key West beach vacation. Katherine limited her “layover city friendships”; she wasn’t a sailor with a guy in every port. Adam called her when he came to Chicago, and Katherine bid New York layovers often. Katherine appreciated their casual friendship. A long-term relationship wasn’t even on her radar. Solo flying was the life for Katherine with many places to see and things to finish before she clipped her wings.

  Adam drove away from the St. Moritz, passing by a clear view of Central Park’s meandering tree-lined sidewalks. He smiled at Katherine. “Stewardesses must rate with this prime hotel location. That’s why the flying public says fly girls enjoy a glamorous life.”

  Katherine chuckled. “Yeah. It’s a thrill around every corner. Everyone expects us to greet them with a warm smile, escort them to their seat. Then we serve them hors d’oeuvres, steak, and lobster with their favorite drinks. After a gourmet meal, we give them a choice of music and a down-filled pillow.” Katherine paused and chuckled. “I’m sure that’s what the young soldier thought when I dumped his hot goulash in his lap on a flight today. It was an accident. I went back to the aircraft galley and cried. He was a soldier and a gentleman. If he’d been a jerk, I might have let the food dish slip on purpose.”

  Adam grinned. “He was lucky. Did you give him extra attention?”

  Katherine shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I treated him the same as all my passengers. But he asked for my address as he deplaned. Maybe he plans to write me up and send a nasty letter to my supervisor.”

  Adam shook his head. “I bet you’ll find a bouquet of roses when you get home.”

  Katherine had had enough of all the talk. It was time to change the subject. A copy of the New York Times flashed an alert. She grabbed the paper and read the headline: “Cease-fire in Syria Accepted; Israelis Hold Golan Heights; Soviets Break Tie to Israel.” She thought this must be the trouble in the Middle East her mom had mentioned. Adam was Jewish and was more aware of events in Israel than most of her other friends. Why didn’t I pay more attention when Mom cited this Middle East conflict on our phone call? When she had plans to see Adam, she should have something to discuss with him. She added to her to-do list: Pay more attention to the world around me and the people in it.

  Adam noticed her reading the newspaper article. “Marc and Sarah Cohen, the couple we’re meeting for dinner, are classmates of the reporter for that story. Most of Sarah’s family come from or live in Israel, so Marc and Sarah keep up with what happens to their people. It’s a great day for Israel.”

  Katherine’s stomach flipped; her inadequacy wobbled. She had no comment and wished she’d talked to her father. He filled his mind with current events, plus the historical background. She took a deep breath and remarked. “My dad followed this war and the well-deserved victory for Israel.”

  She stared out the car window as Adam sped past the Electric Circus on their journey to the Lower East Side. She wondered if black crow feathers would appear to flutter around her. Adam stopped at a red light and turned to Katherine. “On your next trip, let’s make it an Electric Circus night.”

  Katherine smiled and winked. “Sounds cool. I’ll have to find the right clothes and listen to Frank Zappa before we go.”

  Adam beamed. “Tonight, you’ll love it; the restaurant is full of New York history. The name is appropriate. The Bridge Cafe is on the waterfront at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s the oldest surviving tavern in New York haunted by the ghosts of its pirates and brothel history.”

  New York was in its own league. Everything moved faster, and the scents of the city made it come alive. Summer odors distinguished each neighborhood, and the heat squeezed the scents and smells together, from the aromas of the outdoor cafes to the urine smells from the subways. Whiffs of concrete and dust from the buses and cabs that clogged the street made Katherine cough. Park Avenue was better with its air-conditioned buildings and perfumed shoppers.

  Adam smiled at Katherine. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Katherine giggled and winked. “Hey, I’m still sampling all the tastes, sounds, and smells of Chicago. I can’t savor two cities at once.” Now, why did I say that? I can take in as many sights, sounds, and sensations as I want. My senses are ready for an overload.

  Adam swung his hands up and pointed at the Bridge Cafe. “If I have you figured right, you’ll be ready for a scenery change in a New York minute. Here’s the grand old lady on the waterfront.”

  Seagulls soared like a banner waving above the 200-year-old landmark. Katherine peered through the evening mist to check for black crow feathers floating around. She smiled. “I can’t wait to meet Sarah and Marc.” Katherine blinked to adjust her eyes from the bright sunlight to the dark wood-paneled interior of the restaurant. Adam took her arm and walked her to a stylish looking couple. The woman’s simple long-sleeved purple shift dress made a statement that she dressed with ease and purpose. Katherine gave Marc a silent shout-out. Yeah, no gray flannel suit, just well pressed chinos, white shirt, and penny loafers.

  Sarah
and Marc rushed over and hugged Adam. “Hi, Adam.” The couple turned to Katherine and squeezed her hands. “And you must be Katherine,” they said in unison.

  Katherine shook their hands, but she wished she could give them a hug. “I’m thrilled to meet you. Adam told me you are the most charming and fun couple that he knows.”

  Sarah motioned to Katherine for her to sit on the velvet bench. Sarah’s scent reminded her of Charlotte’s fragrance: Jungle Gardenia the aroma known on every corner of the globe.

  They covered all the small-talk topics while they ordered their drinks. Katherine braced herself and charged into a more substantive conversation. She wanted to seem like an intelligent woman, even if she’d be treading into deep water where she might drown. “I saw the article in the New York Times today. What good news for Israel to have a ceasefire with Syria.”

  Katherine released a deep breath and smiled at Adam when he rescued her from the conversation’s deep waters when he added his comment. “It’s a strategic win for Israel. More secure borders with the occupation of the Golan Heights, the West Bank, and the Sinai Peninsula. But Israel still needs recognition as a country.”

  For more than thirty minutes, the threesomes debated the pros and cons of the Six-Day War between the Arabs and the Israelis. Adam took a breather and turned to Katherine. “How are doing?”

  Katherine nodded. “Great. I have a better understanding of the conflict, but it’s still complicated for me to grasp everything.”

  Sarah turned to Katherine. “I hope we didn’t bore you.”

  “Oh, no. I learned so much from your conversation. Thanks for letting me listen and learn. I’m not Jewish, but I’m discovering how amazing the Jewish people and their history are from Adam. He’s good to suggest books for me to read.”

  Adam smiled. “And you’ll help me understand your Chippewa ancestry.”

  Sarah and Marc glowed with broad smiles. “A blonde Native American?” Marc asked.

  Katherine’s memories bubbled to the surface. Her tall, blonde German looks had always concealed her Chippewa ancestry, Her chest tightened and reminded her that she’d neglected that part of herself until she’d gone to a Native American civil rights lecture at Beliot College. Perhaps Soaring Eagle’s appearance was to warn her not to forget her ancestry.

  “Yeah. People always think I’m making it up. I’m German on my father’s side and my mother’s French Canadian and Chippewa. My great-grandfather, a wealthy fur trader, fell in love with my great-grandmother from the Chippewa tribe. They had two weddings: a tribal wedding and a grand wedding in France.”

  Adam pointed to Katherine and smiled. “When we first met, she said we were cousins because the Chippewa were one of the Lost Tribes of Israel.”

  “Hey now. I still wonder if the Native Americans are the Lost Tribe of Israel,” Marc commented.

  “Me too,” Sarah chimed in.

  Katherine’s people instincts were strong, and she wanted to spend time with Sarah and Marc. Sarah felt like a kindred spirit, and Katherine felt as if they had been friends all their lives.

  “Well, my interest got charged when I did a high school research paper that explored Thomas Jefferson’s request for Lewis and Clark to research the religious beliefs of the Native Americans. He even wrote a special letter to Clark asking him to search out the Lost Tribe of Israel. Who knows? Life is full of mysteries.”

  Katherine savored her quiet time and enjoyed a special breakfast at Rumplemeyer’s restaurant in the St. Moritz. The morning sun glowed around the dining room and cloaked Katherine in its warmth. She munched on breakfast, and her taste buds danced with each crunch of the Belgian Waffle covered with whipped cream like a snow-capped mountain. Katherine wanted to smile at everyone. Then, she spotted an unwanted sight—Carol, her flying partner.

  Carol rushed to her booth and joined Katherine without invitation. “Howdy.” Carol glowed. “We had a blast last night. You shoulda joined us. Hey, why don’t you come to Bloomingdales with me? Then we can have lunch at Bergdorf. I can’t afford to shop there, but a girl can dream.”

  Katherine took in a deep breath and reminded herself that her time off was her own time. “Gee, thanks, but I have other plans.”

  Carol winked. “Oh, you and that guy.” She waved her hand to fan herself. “I understand. When you’re hot, you’re hot.”

  Katherine thought her visit to the United Nations was her business. Carol would never understand. “Well, yes.” Katherine crossed her fingers under the table for her little white lie. “So I’ll meet you at the crew car this afternoon. Thanks for the invite, though.”

  Katherine grabbed a cab to head to the United Nations building. The taxi driver stared in the mirror and interrupted her thoughts. “Miss, you should be on Fifth Avenue shopping. The UN won’t be any fun for you.”

  Katherine shrugged and smiled. In her mind’s eye, she saw her father smiling down on her. But he fought for the rights of others. Her knowledge of the United Nations came from Alfred Hitchcock’s movie North by Northwest.

  Katherine paid the taxi, turned, and encountered a crowd chanting, “Hey, hey LBJ, how many kids have you killed today?” Groups of worried parents carried placards that read, “Stop the War in Vietnam.” The out-of-place parents attempted to slink through the throng of longhaired hippies and shorthaired draft dodgers. She reached for a placard, but before she could get a hold of the white cardboard square, a black crow feather drifted past her face. She crawled on her knees through the crowd to get inside the United Nations’ main entrance. Her heart pounded in her ears and drowned out the competing chants of “Hell no, we won’t go” and “Love our country, America, love it or leave it.” A United Nations guard lifted her up and helped her inside the United Nations building.

  Katherine quivered as she surveyed the lobby of the United Nations. Racing past her were men in dark suits. They dressed the same, but their faces were different. Worldwide cultures created a collage of skin colors, facial features, and hairstyles. Each person’s real life blended like a map of the world.

  A crowd gaped at a stained-glass window in the public lobby. The window mesmerized Katherine. She joined the group of tourists as one of the United Nation’s tour guides explained the image in the glass: a striking young woman with black hair spun in a chignon with olive skin and deep brown eyes, smiling at the crowd of tourists. She looked like a stewardess in her tailored navy suit and white-collared blouse.

  “This is a gift from a United Nations staff member and Marc Chagall,” the guide said, “the French artist and designer of the window. He called it Kiss of Peace and presented it in 1964 as a memorial to Dag Hammarskjöld, the second Secretary-General of the UN. Mr. Hammarskjöld and fifteen other people died in a plane crash in 1961 on their way to a peace mission in Zambia.” She paused and cleared her throat. “The memorial is fifteen feet wide and twelve feet high with several symbols of peace and love. If you look close enough, you’ll see the young child in the center kissed by an angelic face, which emerges from a mass of flowers. On the left, please notice, below and above motherhood, there are people struggling for a peaceful way of life. The musical symbols in the panel evoke Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony—Mr. Hammarskjöld’s favorite.”

  While the tour guide answered the crowd’s questions, Katherine’s eyes moistened. She remembered the morning her father had come to awaken her with tears in his eyes because of Dag Hammarskjöld’s fatal accident. The hair rose on the back of her neck as she stared at the stained-glass window. She heard her ancestors calling her.

  Katherine narrowed her focus on her life plans. She could get a job as UN guide. Could she become part of finding peace in the world? And what was the meaning of her friendship with Adam? When he’d driven her back to the hotel, he’d asked her when she planned to transfer to New York. If she got a job at the UN, she could learn to understand people from different cultures and find ways to help them. One of those one hundred and three countries need my help. She wanted to find her way t
hrough her hopes and dreams.

  A wave of hot and cold chills swept over Katherine. Drums pounded in her head. Her stomach bounced. She stumbled her way to the ladies’ room and released a sigh when she opened the door, and a single chrome chair greeted her. Like a desert wanderer in search of water, she landed in the chair and dropped her head to her lap and drew in a deep breath. So many roads, so many paths. Which one is mine to follow?

  11

  THE BREAKFAST CROWD at Third Coast Coffee Shop bustled and hummed as spring burst with birds singing. The exciting Chicago lakefront events enticed crowds to stop at one of the Rush Street watering holes after basking in the sun and sand on Oak Street’s beach. Chicago’s sandy beach welcomed the bikers, walkers, and sunbathers. It was happy times on the beach again for all those hibernating Chicagoans who had hidden under their blankets during the extended subzero winter chill that froze the city.

  Emma Jean and Katherine didn’t notice the line of people waiting for their table. They had too much to talk about, and they hadn’t finished eating the fresh strawberries and Danish pastry with heaps of cream cheese.

  Emma Jean wiped fluffy white cheese from the corner of her lip and smiled at Katherine. “Oh my, you have nothing to fret about, Darlin’. Fainting is a typical southern lady’s way of calming oneself. But you’re the only woman to faint at the United Nations. What a silly place, since there weren’t any gentlemen to rescue you. Oh, Lord. Why didn’t you go shopping on the Avenue? That’s what I do on New York layovers. I especially love my Bloomingdales. Of course, I can’t afford it, but my dream is to shop all the time at Bergdorf when I meet my true love. He’ll have to take me to New York for shopping.”

  Katherine twisted her love beads as she nibbled on the last fresh strawberry swimming in sugar and cream. “Eureka! That’s why I fainted. I’ve been around you so much that I became a southern girl for a split second. I got overstressed and overheated. I’m conflicted. I want new adventures to learn about other people’s cultures. That’s one of the reasons I majored in anthropology. Don’t you want to learn about people from different cultures?”