Soaring Home by Christine Johnson

war ended. It didn’t need aviators without a war. That left Jack unemployed, so he contacted his old buddy, Dwight Pohlman, who happened to have a job for him in Buffalo.
    “Stay here,” Burrows urged as they left the Long Island plant.
    “You know I can’t.” The icy breeze sent a chill down Jack’s spine. He wouldn’t miss the fence, the gate, the security. Driedup leaves tumbled across the brick-hard ground. Lately he’d found himself longing for a simpler life, more like what he’d seen in Pearlman.
    “There’s a big project underway,” Burrows said in a low voice, “exactly what you’ve been waiting for.”
    “What project?” Jack hadn’t heard a thing about a new project.
    Burrows grinned. “What’s your dream, old sport?”
    For a second, Jack allowed himself to remember. Transatlantic flight. Claim the Daily Mail prize. Fifty thousand dollars and enough fame to put him on the lecture circuit for years. Until recently, only Burrows and Sissy knew about that dream. Then he told Darcy. Darcy. That gal would have attempted the crossing in a minute, ready or not.
    He chuckled to himself. She had crazier dreams than he did. Worse, she actually believed they were possible. Fly over the North Pole. It was insane, but he remembered the sparkle in her eyes, the way she made him believe. Women like that were rare.
    “Whoa.” Burrows yanked Jack sideways. “That’s one powerful daydream.”
    Jack scowled. He’d nearly walked into the gate. That was precisely why he shouldn’t care about Miss Shea. Flying and romance did not mix.
    They showed their passes to the guard. Considering the armistice, Jack was surprised the tight security continued. What had Burrows said? That something big was afoot? Suppose Curtiss was going for the big prize.
    “Curtiss is attempting the transatlantic crossing?”
    “Shh,” hissed Burrows. “Don’t go telling the world.”
    Jack stared. “You’re not joking?”
    “Never. Stay on here. I’ll put a word in for you. Just think, you’d be in on something big, and we’d be working together again.”
    Jack couldn’t deny the appeal. It was his dream, but it came with a cost. A man taking such a risky flight should have no personal entanglements. That meant no girlfriend and no dependents. He could control the first but not the latter.
    “I’ll think about it.” But he knew it was an impossible dream. Sissy needed him.
    “Don’t think too long,” Burrows urged.
    “I’ll give you my answer in a week.” That was long enough to determine if Pohlman’s offer was legitimate.
    The next day, Jack flew his plane to Buffalo and landed at the flight school’s airfield. He roared down the field and pulled up to the building, without seeing another plane in the air. Odd. Even though it was late in the season, snow hadn’t fallen yet. Students should be practicing maneuvers.
    Jack climbed out of his plane and looked around. No one. Not a sound. He had a bad feeling this was going to be the shortest job interview in history. He wandered into the hangar. “Anybody here?”
    A tall, clean-cut man popped out of the office. “Jack Hunter? Imagine seeing your worthless behind here. I wondered who had the audacity to land on our field unannounced.”
    “None other.”
    Pohlman laughed and pumped his hand. “How’s it going?”
    Jack met the question with a grin. “Never better.” There was nothing like a fellow pilot to raise a man’s spirits. “You said you had a position open?”
    “Going straight to business, eh? Fine with me. Let’s talk. Coffee?”
    “Why not?”
    They strolled across the concrete-floored hangar to Pohlman’s office. Nearly all the training planes were parked inside, grounded. On past visits the place had buzzed with activity.
    “Business slow?” Jack asked. If Pohlman needed an instructor, where were the students?
    Pohlman poured a cup of muddy brew. “Up until last Saturday I had a full house. Then news comes in the Kaiser abdicated, and