Cassada by James Salter Read Free Book Online

the maintenance.”
    Dunning nodded sagely as if he knew something about that.
    â€œWell, Friday night,” he said, gathering himself. “You getting up to the club before long?”
    â€œI’ll be there.”
    There were a few things left to be attended to and the last flight had yet to land. Isbell sat working at his desk. There was the faint sound of the adding machine in the outer office striking out sumsin bursts. The operations clerks would be working late. He was looking out the window when there was a knock.
    â€œAre you busy, Captain?” Cassada, slightly reticent, stood in the doorway. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute if I could.”
    â€œSure. What’s on your mind?”
    â€œIs it all right if I close the door, sir?”
    Isbell was still looking out the window. He turned his head. “What for?”
    â€œIt’s something that I . . . it’s something personal.”
    â€œIt is, eh?” Isbell said unconcernedly.
    He thought he heard them then and glanced out the window, then turned once more to Cassada who was wearing—Isbell was a little surprised by it—a look of impatience. “Sit down. What’s the problem?”
    â€œI wanted to ask about something. Maybe I should have come in sooner.” He paused. “The thing is, ever since I’ve been in the squadron . . .”
    â€œWhich is what, all of three months?”
    â€œAlmost.” Cassada began again: “When I started flying here it was with Lieutenant Grace and his flight.”
    Isbell felt a certain resentment rising in himself. “Yes. Grace had you for transition.”
    â€œI really learned a lot from him.”
    Cassada was looking down at his hands. “I wondered if there was a chance of my being put in his flight. I mean, if it wouldn’t make too much difference. I think I’d pick up quite a bit from him.”
    â€œI’m sure you would.”
    Cassada looked up, uncertain at the tone. “To tell the truth I sort of expected—I suppose it was wrong because nobody had said anything to me one way or the other—to be in his flight from the beginning.”
    â€œWhy?” Isbell said. He heard and saw them, coming along themain taxiway, gliding like ghosts, like something borne on a river, through the fading light. The sound rose as they came closer, slowing.
    â€œWell, because I’d flown with him all along.”
    The last ones were down. All was as it should be. Freed of concern then, fully attentive, “Just because I’m curious,” Isbell said, “why did you wait until now to come in here?”
    â€œI guess I shouldn’t have.”
    â€œWhat is it, three or four weeks you’ve been in Captain Wickenden’s flight now?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    The last two planes were entering their hardstands, the crew chiefs skipping backwards as they came, waving them around in a tight, fetal turn, the engine cut even before the wheels came to a stop. The sound escaped, piercing and faint. It fell to nothing, to a deep, full silence.
    â€œWell, what made you suddenly decide?” Isbell repeated. “There must be a reason.”
    Was it possible Isbell did not know what Wickenden was like, how overbearing, Cassada thought in confusion. Would he be angered to hear? “I guess I didn’t have the nerve.”
    â€œThe nerve?”
    Cassada was silent.
    â€œYou can learn just as much about flying right where you are, if that’s what you’re really worried about. Maybe more.”
    â€œThat’s just it,” Cassada insisted.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI think I’d do better. In fact I’m sure of it.”
    â€œGrace already has four men in his flight. If you were in it there’d be five and Wickenden would have three.”
    â€œI thought maybe there could be a switch. I might be able to get someone to agree to change.”
    â€œNo,” Isbell said