On Wings Of The Morning by Marie Bostwick Read Free Book Online

to pass freshman Spanish!”
    â€œAh, well.” Paul shrugged and let out the rubber stopper to drain the water from the sink. “At least I tried.”
    I looked at the wristwatch Mama had given me for graduation. It was time to go. Paul walked me to the front door to say good-bye. “I won’t wish you good luck because you won’t need it. You’re completely up to this. And don’t worry about your mother. She may not be speaking to me, but I’ll still keep an eye on her. I’ll make sure she’s all right while you’re at school.” He paused a moment and, without me saying anything, addressed the concern that was uppermost in my thoughts—the impending war and who would watch out for Mama when I joined up. “No matter what happens, no matter where you go, I’ll always look out for her. You can count on it.”
    â€œThanks, Paul. That means a lot to me.” I put out my hand for him to shake, and he gripped it hard.
    â€œDon’t mention it.”
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    Later, I said my good-byes to Grandma and Aunt Ruby back at the house. Ruby cried and Grandma tried not to. Mama drove me out to the airfield herself. We didn’t say much during the drive—just talked about the weather and about how good the harvest was looking. “Mr. Thompson said he’s getting two bushels more per acre than he did last year,” Mama said.
    Mr. Thompson was our closest neighbor. “Well, that’s good,” I said. “He must be happy about that.”
    Mama smiled and threw me a quick glance before training her eyes back on the road. “He said it would probably drive down the price. Said he’d be lucky if he broke even.”
    I grinned. Some things never changed. Thompson was a full-time farmer who moonlighted as a part-time curmudgeon. He never had a good word to say about anything, but I was going to miss him. I was going to miss everyone. I couldn’t think of what to say next, and Mama seemed to have run out of conversation, too, so I turned up the radio and we listened to music for the rest of the drive. Bing Crosby was singing “Only Forever.”
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    Do I want to be with you,
    As the years come and go?
    Only forever,
    If you care to know.
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    Whitey was waiting at the airfield, standing next to my plane. My plane. I was still amazed to think she was actually mine. Rough paint job or no, the sight of her made me smile.
    Whitey had already done a preflight check, so everything was ready. We loaded my gear into the plane. Watching my duffel bag and suitcase get stuffed into the cargo hold, Mama suddenly remembered all the good advice she’d ever forgotten to give me and started peppering me with reminders to eat right and get enough sleep, not to forget to wear my hat, and to remember that she’d put some horehound lozenges in my duffel in case I got a sore throat.
    â€œThey’re in with your clean socks. Oh! And I put a roll of stamps in there, too. And some stationery and pre-addressed envelopes.”
    â€œMama, you didn’t have to do that. I’m eighteen years old. I think I know my own address by now.”
    â€œI know. I just thought it would be easier for you that way.” Whitey gave the propeller a good crank. The plane stuttered a little before the engine caught hold, but when it did, it roared, and the whole fuselage started to hum and vibrate as if she couldn’t wait to get airborne. Mama was startled by the noise. Both her hands flew up to cover her ears.
    â€œPromise you’ll write!” She hollered to be heard over the engine.
    â€œEvery Tuesday and Saturday,” I shouted. “I promise!”
    Whitey waved his arm, signaling it was time to go. I gave Mama one last squeeze, lifting her up off her feet, before hustling myself over the plane and climbing into the passenger seat. Mama backed away to stand by the car where she could watch us take off. She smiled and waved as if