Wings Read Online Free PDF

Nick, who promised to take him up again in a few days, when he came back from a run to San Diego, I'll be here. I came out to practice my solos,” he said solemnly.
    “I'm impressed.” Nick raised an eyebrow, amazed at how badly the boy obviously wanted to please his father. It was no secret to Nick that Chris really didn't enjoy his lessons. It wasn't that he was afraid, it was more that they just bored him. To him, flying meant nothing. “See ya.”
    Chris found Cassie easily, and she left her newfound friend very quickly once she saw her brother. She was quick to berate him. “You're late, now we're going to be late for dinner. Dad'll have a fit.”
    “Then let's not do it.” He shrugged. He hadn't even wanted to leave work as early as he had, but he knew she'd be furious with him if he didn't.
    “Come on,” she blazed at him. “I've been waiting all day!” She flashed an angry look at him, and he groaned. He knew her too well. There was no escaping Cassie when she set her mind to something. “I'm not going home till we do it.”
    “Okay, okay. But we can't stay up for long.”
    “Half an hour.” She was begging him, pleading with him, turning her huge blue eyes imploringly to his gentle brown ones.
    “Okay. Okay. But if you do anything to get us into trouble, Cass, I swear I'm going to kill you. Dad would have my hide for this.”
    “I promise. I won't do anything.” He searched her eyes as she promised him, and he wanted more than anything to believe her, but he didn't.
    Together, they walked toward the old Jenny their father had had for several years. It had been built as a trainer for the military, and Pat had told Chris he could use it now any time he wanted to practice. All he had to do was tell Nick, and he just had. Chris had a copy of the key, and he took it out of his pocket. Cassie almost salivated when she saw it. She was standing close to him, and she could feel her heart beat as Chris opened the door to the small open-cockpit airplane.
    “Will you stop it?” He looked annoyed at her, “I can feel you breathing on me. I swear … you're sick …” He felt as though he were helping an addict supply his habit as they walked around the plane, checking the wires and ailerons. Chris put on his flying helmet and goggles and gloves, and then got into the plane in the rear seat, and Cassie climbed in quickly ahead of him intending to look like a passenger, but somehow she didn't. She looked too knowledgeable, too comfortable, even in the front seat, especially once she put on her own helmet and goggles.
    They both buckled in, and Cassie knew the plane was well fueled, because part of her deal with her brother was doing all the scutwork for him; and she had done it herself that afternoon. Everything was ready and she inhaled the familiar smell of castor oil that was characteristic of the Jenny. And five minutes later they were headed down the runway, with Cassie watching Chris's style critically. He was always too cautious, too slow, and once she turned around to signal to him to go faster, and pull up. She didn't care if anyone saw her. She knew that no one was watching now, and everything she knew, she knew from listening and watching. She had watched her father and Nick, transient pilots, and barnstormers. She had picked up some real skills, and a few tricks, and she knew flying by instinct and by sheer intuition. It was Chris who had had the lessons, and yet it was Cassie who knew exactly what to do and they both knew she could have flown the plane easily without him, and a lot more smoothly.
    Eventually, she shouted at him over the sound of the engine, and he nodded, willing her not to do anything foolish. But they both knew exactly why they had come up here. Chris was taking lessons from Nick, and in turn he was giving Cassie lessons. Or, in fact, the way it had been working out, Chris was taking her up in the plane, and letting her fly it, and she was giving him lessons. Or just enjoying the