Published: 26 Jun 2023

Chapter 30

Bright lights with quiet about and the first that Gavin sees as he opened his eyes, is the concerned expression on his brother’s face.

“Where am I,” Gavin confusingly asks as he senses take in the strong aroma of bedpans and disinfectant.

“You are in hospital,” Owen softly states and gently lays a hand to his brother’s shoulder.

“How long have I been here?”

“Two days.”

“What happened?”

“Someone stabbed you and the doctor said you were fortunate. If the blade was a little longer, or further to the right you would not be here to ask that question.”

“Who did it?” Gavin attempted to move but the pain gripped at his body forcing him to remain prostrate.

“Who is unknown, although I would think you know why,” Owen sternly says.

Gavin forces a sniggered breath, “oh.”

“More than likely it was a warning, an almost deadly warning, as some of those people are quite handy with a blade. If intended you wouldn’t be lying here now.”

“Do you think it was one of the Gallo’s?”

“Most likely the old man ordered it done, although I should think that will never be known. They know how to keep quiet about their own.”

Once released from hospital Gavin came to recuperate with Winnie, again sharing the bungalow with Owen. During the second week of his infirm Gavin was well enough to get about the house without support and by the third almost ready to return to work.

After the night’s meal Gavin rested in the living room listening to the wireless as Rod came in, turning on the wireless for the late news and stock reports.

“Resting up okay?” Rod asks.

“Yes thank you Rod.”

“So you are back to work on Monday.”

“I am and looking forward in doing so.”

“You are more than welcome staying on here,” Rod offers.

“Tubby said his parents are holding the room for me.”

“Fair enough but the offer remains,” Rod reiterated while appearing unsettled, “I hope you have learned your lesson about chasing the foreign girls?” he quietly says.

“Yes I’ll stick to our lot in the future,” Gavin laughs but doesn’t appear convincing.

“Good, as I had an anonymous telephone call at work this morning.”

“Oh! What was it about?”

“You – the caller said what you got was a warning and next time you go sniffing around where you don’t have business, it will be permanent.”

Gavin felt the blood drain from his face and let out a light yelp, “do you think they will try again?”

“I would say not, or there wouldn’t have been the telephone warning.”

“Then as I said I’ll stick to good old Aussie girls in the future,” this time there was gravity in Gavin’s tone as recollection of cold steel flashing in weak moonlight returned to his consciousness.

“Good – that’s what I want to hear.”

During the evening the telephone rang and Winnie answered. Moments later she calls, “Owen you are wanted on the telephone, it is Joe from Bush Pilots.”

Owen is quick to the phone, “yes Joe?”

“What are you doing Saturday morning?”

“Nothing that can’t be reorganized; have you a job for me?”

“Walter is away sick and we have a passenger for Cairns, would you be available to take the Cessna down?”

“Yes that will be fine.”

“Righto’ be out at the airport for a ten o’clock departure.”

“No worries, I’ll be there,” Owen replaces the receiver with a pleasing sigh.

“Do you have a flight Owen?” Winnie asks.

“Yes to Cairns on Saturday morning.”

“That’s the third this month possibly you will soon get a permanent position.”

“Possibly, although I’m a little down the list at present, so I’m more than happy to take what is on offer.”

Winnie releases a gentle titter.

“Do you wish to share your thought?” Owen asks.

“I was remembering your little trip to Moresby and how mum panicked coming down with one of her migraines.”

“There wasn’t any need for her concern, as I was never in danger.”

“There are daily flights from Cairns to Moresby now. It’s funny what a couple of years will do.”

“I did approach Ansett Airlines about piloting but they have full books, same with the new airline Trans Australian.”

“Give it time Owen. I’m sure you will make it someday.”

“Yes time – I have plenty of that.”

Owen was certain to be at the airport early and had only been there a matter of minutes before William Blake; the town’s mayor and shire president arrived in a taxi. Without hesitation he approached the aircraft, handing Owen his overnight bag.

“Good morning Mr. Blake,” Owen offered in courtesy as he stowed Blake’s bag.

“Is it?” Blake growls then without hesitation climbed aboard.

“Business in Cairns Mr. Blake?”

“Yes, but that what I can well do without.”

Joe Wills comes from his office, “Mr. Blake will you be wanting a return flight?” he asks.

“No I’ll be staying the weekend and return on Monday’s rail service.”

Joe then takes Owen aside, “when you have delivered Mr. Blake wait at the Cairns airport for a Mr. Stanley Johnston, he will join you on the return flight.”

“Righto’ Joe.”

“You may need to wait a while for Stan, as he is coming of the Brisbane train and knowing that service it will be delayed again, as there has been flooding around Ingham with the recent rain.”

The trip to Cairns was short, taking little more than half an hour including take off and landing. During the flight Owen’s passenger kept to his solitude, while going through what appeared to be a number of contracts. Once on the ground Blake collected his bag, gave a nod and a quick thank you lad, before quickly stepping into a waiting car.

Cairns airport was but a mile or so north of town, being nothing more than a strip carved out of the mangroves covering the mouth of the Barron River, while because of its closeness to the river and ocean it wasn’t uncommon to see a large crocodile taking a shortcut through the swampy verge from river to sea, sometimes as aircrafts were taxiing. The airfield had a number of hangers and a small office but little more. Although it had been used extensively during the war, it had been recently lengthened with the intention of handling larger aircraft, eventually even jets from the south with the expanding tourist trade.

Owen had parked the Cessna close to the entrance so his return passenger hadn’t far to walk and had been seated outside the office for some time before spying a speck on the north east sky. As the speck came closer, it was obvious one of the new MacDonnell Douglas DC-6 and by its pristine condition fresh from the factory, lacking in any company crest or insignia. As the aircraft approached for landing the airport manager came from his office, “how would you like to be flying that one Owen?” George Bess asks.

“I’d love to George.”

“Looks like your ride back to Mareeba has arrived,” Bess says as a taxi pulls up close by the office.

“Who owns the DC-6?” Owen asks as his passenger comes from the taxi.

“Some rich American I hear. It is reported he has aspirations in starting a service between Cairns and Brisbane.”

“Mr. Johnston,” Owen offers his hand to the new arrival.

“That’s me lad.”

“Climb right in and I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Owen returns to his conversation with Bess; “the DC6 has certainly got the range for it.”

“How would it be up your way?” Bess asks.

“Mareeba? I should think the landing would be a little rough but the strip is long enough, being more than a mile because of the war. The DC-6 needs about three thousand five hundred feet. I would think it’s too large for country purposes, especially up this way but has a good range and Brisbane wouldn’t be a problem, even Melbourne. I guess it would have to refuel a number of times on the way out from America.”

“You appear to know your aircrafts young fellow.”

“A dream I have Mr. Bess, just a dream.”

“Yes it is a nice piece of machinery,” Bess admits as Owen climbed into the Cessna. He waited until the DC-6 made its landing and stopped before continuing his return journey.

“Dreaming lad?” his return passenger asks.

“Dreaming yes but dreaming won’t get you home will it Mr. Johnson?”

Once home Owen could not take his mind away from seeing the DC-6 while romancing how it would handle under his control but to fly such a large aircraft, he would need much more training than for a Cessna and where in such a remote part of the country could that happen.

“If dreams were pound notes we would all be rich,” Winnie says as she passes through the living room while noticing Owen’s distant state.

“True Winnie,” Owen responds with a deepen sigh.

“What is on your mind?”

“When I was down in Cairns a brand new DC-6 arrived from America.”

“And you were dreaming of flying it?”

“I was.”

“While you are up in the clouds I’ve been pondering of what to put on for tonight’s dinner.”

“We all have our own aspirations,” Owen laughs.

“Mum and dad are coming up for a visit next week to see little Megan.”

“Will they be staying here?”

“No with the Linton’s on Anzac parade.”

“I suppose dad will be driving his new car.”

“I don’t think so, mum won’t drive with him up the Palmerston Range, she said his eyesight is failing and with all those turns they would end up over a two thousand foot cliff.” As Winnie spoke baby Megan starts up her late afternoon crying from the bedroom. Owen makes movement to see what is bothering his little niece.

“Leave her Owen she is playing for attention, she’ll settle in a minute.”

Owen goes anyway and is soon back, “Megan needs changing, would you like me to do it?”

“Not after your last attempt to pin on a nappy on Gary, by your attempt I wondered if you knew which end is up.”

Owen commences to laugh.

“What’s got your funny?” Winnie asks.

“I was thinking of when I visited Port Moresby and the native kids. They simply ran about bare-arse.”

“And have shit all over the linoleum, I don’t think so.”

“Do you think you will have another?”

“Shush.”

“Why shush.”

“Can’t you guess?”

“Oh.”

“I’m not yet sure, so don’t mention it to anyone.”

“Do you ever regret getting rid of the first?” Owen asks.

“A mother always regrets but if I didn’t then Gary and Megan wouldn’t be here and I would have been scorned by all for being an unmarried mother. Yes Owen, I do regret and more than you can imagine.”

“What about Hank Wilson, did you have feelings for him.”

“Feelings, some, he was good looking that is certain but we both had too much to drink. It was Chip I fancied but he had other plans.”

“Yes the war. I wonder if he survived,” As Owen spoke emotion struck his heart string and choked at his throat. He presses it away.

“He sent you a letter.”

“I got an empty envelope but at that time the war was still on, with heavy bombing raids over Tokyo. I never really knew but it was suggested he was part of the bombing raids.”

“He would survive, that fly-boy had the luck of the Irish,” Winnie assured.

“Yes and if so, he would back on his parent’s farm in the mid-west either growing corn or herding cattle.”

“The war caused many a heat to break,” Winnie concludes as she leaves for the pantry to design that night’s meal.

“I was remembering Jim,” Owen diverts from thinking of Chip.

“I often do as well, why would he do such a thing? When we were growing up he was always so strong of character and had so many plans, he was going to be another Sidney Kidman and own half Queensland’s cattle country.”

“I never really knew Jim,” Owen admits.

“More than likely it was your age difference but when you were very young he took you everywhere.”

“I don’t recall.”

“As I said you were very young but he would sit you up front on Ruby and go full pelt about the paddock. You would laugh so much and mum would have a panic attack.”

“I saw Ruby the other day, she still looks sprightly.”

Friday morning and there was a buzz about town, the DC-6 that Owen had seen while in Cairns some days earlier, would be making a diversion to Mareeba arriving the following day. It was said the visit was in respect for what Mareeba had sacrificed towards the war effort and the young pilots who lost their lives during the numerous crashes in the district.

Rod comes in from the yard, finding Owen helping with the breakfast dishes, “leave them or you will be late for work,” he says.

“I’ve plenty of time,”

“I suppose you will be going out to the airfield to have a look at the new plane,” he suggests and wraps his arms around Winnie.

“What new plane?”

“There is a DC-6 coming up for the day from Cairns, it was on the wireless news earlier this morning. Rod gives a displeasing huff, “that and Dalgety company shares are down again.”

“Leave off,” Winnie objects and flicks suds at Rod.

He laughs, “I can barely reach around you anymore.”

“Are you saying I’m getting fat?”

“I like something to hold onto.”

“It’s your fault after two it’s hard to get the weight off.”

“Yes Rod I will go and have a gander, possibly I can convince the pilot to let me have a look inside,” Owen gives answer to Rod’s question.

“What do you think of this fellow starting up another air service?”

“You have me there Rod. What air service would that be?”

“The fellow who owns the DC-6, the news mentioned he had intentions towards doing so.”

“I don’t believe there is room for a third airline, with Ansett well established and Trans-Australian coming into service this year, a third may struggle.”

“Cargo is the way young fellow. If you had to wait as long as we do for goods you would well understand that.”

“I agree but in my mind there wouldn’t be enough business west of Cairns for such a big bird.”

There was a large crowd gathered to watch the DC-6 land and on his arrival Owen went to the field’s office when he found Joe Wills scheduling his pilots for the following week’s flights, “I’m not surprised to see you Owen,” he says as Owen enters.

“I believe it is the one I saw in Cairns.”

“Yes but I think it will be the first and last time you see a big bird on the Mareeba strip.”

“Why so Joe?”

“They are shortening it to Cessna size and have already sold off half the south end,” as Joe spoke a distant droning was herd, “come on lad it’s here and I should have the courtesy to greet the pilot.”

“Have you any idea why it is coming to Mareeba?”

“Only that the owner has business here.”

By the time the two reached the strip and passed their way through the crowd, the aircraft was making its final approach.

“It’s going to be a rough landing,” Joe says, knowing there hadn’t been much maintenance on the strip since the last of the bombers departed.

Soon the DC-6 is in line with the strip at its northern end and by obvious design came in low and close to that end to get the maximum length of the field.

“Clever pilot,” Joe says, “it is as if he knows the field.”

The craft was down, moments later taxiing towards the hangers and remaining buildings from their war usage.

After the craft’s four engines powered down the passenger door opened and a ladder dropped, “he must know we don’t have steps here,” Joe says.

“I was wondering how they would disembark from that height.” Owen quotes as they move closer in for their greeting.

A number of minutes pass before a face appears at the open doorway. He is a tall blond young man. As he is about to descend on the ladder, he is called back. After a short while he returns and smiles towards the waiting crowd, he waves and with ease reaches the ground.

Moments later a second face appears.

“It’s Chip! It’s Chip Miller!” Owen cries almost passing out with joy.

He realizes his overzealous exertion and calms.

“You know him?” Joe asks.

“Know him? Chip is a mate of mine.”

Chip pauses and appears to be searching for a face in the crowd, he spies Owen and smiling gives a gentle nod, then climbs down to meet the welcoming committee.

Owen steps aside allowing Joe to take the greeting and introduction to Chip’s co-pilot and navigator as Ralph Waters.

Eventually Chip turns his attention to Owen, “I was hoping you would be here,” he quietly says, “then again knowing your love of anything with wings you would be.”

“But how?”

“Give me a few minutes to register with the office, then I’ll take you onboard and tell all.”

Joe leads the way to the airport office.

Half an impatient hour passes before Chip returns and invites Owen onboard, “I would think you have a question or two for me,” he says once they are alone in the belly of the craft.

“One or two, that’s an understatement.”

“Did you get my letter?”

“I received an empty envelope from army post but that was long ago.”

“No I posted to you a month back from stateside.”

“Like many from your side, it more than likely ended up in Austria but it doesn’t matter you are here now and alive. I had feared you may have met with an accident.”

“If it wasn’t for you I would have – come here.”

Owen remains ridged.

“That is if you still want me,”

“Want you, I’ve thought of nothing else since you departed.”

They embrace and both have welling tears.

“I’d have you right here and now if it was practical,” Chip admits as they control their emotions.“What about the plane, is it yours?”

Chip reaches for a leather satchel beside the pilots seat, he opens the satchel and withdrawals a set of papers. “Ours Owen, all you have to sign this contract but for legal reason it will cost you one pound of your money.”

“I’m confused,” Owen admits.

“I think I once told you I had my own property, I have sold it and purchased this plane and it’s almost straight from the factory.”

“This is all too much to take in.”

“It won’t be if you sign the contract.”

“What do you mean when you say would have had an accident except for me?”

“That empty envelope at first contained a letter to you explaining my hasty departure and silly of me, also declaring my undying love for you.”

“And?”

“I forgot about censorship, my letter was read and I was hauled in for questioning. I was immediately demoted and sent home under a section eight on the next available flight and I think the empty envelope must have been posted in error, with the letter kept as evidence towards my so called blue discharge.”

“Did your parents find out?”

“No, I think the interviewing officer took pity on me because of my good service record, besides I believe he may have been of equal leaning and I was given a medical discharge instead.”

“You haven’t explained how I kept you safe,” Owen questions.

“I’m coming to that. The following day my flight and crew departed on a Tokyo raid with another captain and was never heard of again, so if it wasn’t for me writing down my feelings for you, I more than likely wouldn’t be here now.”

“What did Hank and the others think of you being dismissed?”

“Not happy but I hardly had time to say goodbye to them, besides they knew how I felt about you, they were good mates and I miss them dearly.”

“Why did you fly up here to Mareeba?”

“For you Owen, I’ve missed you so much and could not think of anything else over the past months. I had planned this meeting down to the last word, last hug last kiss and now that I’m here I can’t remember a single line.”

“You don’t need words Chip I promise you that.”

“What do you think of my contract?”

“I don’t understand,” Owen says.

“It is simple, it makes you equal partner in my up and coming airline enterprise,” Chip laughs, “if one aircraft could be considered an airline but at first I thought we could do cargo and later branch out into passenger service and there is a second aircraft being built for you to pilot as I speak, that is when we get you a license.”

“I do have a license already but only for Cessna and the likes.”

“Then you are halfway there and we will soon get you flying this beautiful bird.”

“It is all too much to comprehend.”

“Give it time but if you say no than I’ll fly this beautiful bird back to America and sell it.”

“I must say it is tempting and she is surely beautiful.”

“You know about the DC-6?”

“I’ve read a little,”

“Are you still living at home on the farm?”

“No, dad sold the farm and I now work in town and I’m staying with Winnie, she is now married and has two young kids.”

“That was quick, it was only – “Chip pauses, “well you know.”

“Yes she met Rod soon after then within weeks they were married. How long will you be in Mareeba?”

“My plans were to collect you and take up offices in Cairns but I can now see I was being a little presumptuous.”

“I need time Chip.”

“Take as long as you like but I will have to return the plane to Cairns – landing rights and all that.”

“When?”

“A couple of days, four at the most.”

“Come and meet Winnie while I put all this into perspective.”

“What would Winnie think?” Chip appears unsure.

“She knows how I feel about you,” Owen admits.

“Tonight,” Chip says with a smile.

“What about tonight,”

“Do you remember that night in Port Moresby when we slept in the Dakota?”

“Most vividly.”

“How would you like to spend tonight in the DC-6?” a pause and a cheeky smile then Chip continues, “I could show you the instruments.”

“I would love to but what about your co-pilot?”

“Ralph? No he is itching to see what an Australian country town has to offer, he will take a room in town.”

“Yes I would love that but this time no fear of falling bombs I should think.”

“Then tonight will be the beginning of our future.”

THE END

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

17,434 views