Thread: What Might Have Been (AndNich123 & Reydan)

Charles was wiping his hands down with a dirty rag, doing little more than smearing the grease and soot around, when the crop-duster took off. The tall mechanic, eyes ringed with dark circles, scowled, the expression breaking his usually upbeat face, as the familiar putt-putt-putt of the small engine whined overhead. He watched, through the open doors of his family garage, as the small plane climbs lazily in the cloudless rural sky. He followed it with his green eyes, paused now and leaning on the pickup he was almost finished fixing, as it gained height and slipped from the bonds of gravity. Free as a bird. She had always like that freedom. Liked it too much, he thought, watching the vapour trails slowly fade. If crop-dusters had been the limit of her ambition he could have lived with that. They could have lived with that. But it wasn't enough. The sky, ultimately, had been the limit of Madeline's desires. And he had been left earthbound. 'You done in there?' It was Jim Hodges, his neighbour, come about the pickup. 'Yup' said Charles, tossing the rag aside and turning his back on the past. The pickup hummed beautifully when it turned over, a far cry from the grinding gears of a few days ago, and Jim Hodges hummed almost as harmoniously when he read the bill. Charles Lerwick was the third generation of Lerwicks to run 'Lerwick's Family Mechanics' and carried on the proud tradition of high quality at affordable prices. There was almost no-one in the small town who didn't bring their family vehicle to Charles, as they had to his father and grandfather before him, and the young man was kept busy. Which suited him fine. 'You alright?' his sister said, leaning against the outside wall when he emerged into the sun. They both waved to Jim as he pulled onto the road and moved into the sparse traffic of their little slice of middle America. Jenny was a red-head, like him. Same green eyes, same freckled face, same slightly amused face. No beard, of course, just as Charles lacked the waist-long hair of his younger sister. But they were cut from the same cloth in more ways than one. 'Only you don't seem to be sleeping' she said, responding to his silence with the practised ease of one used to the taciturn man. Charles was famously quiet, especially after taking over the family business when his father died a few years ago, and most who knew him just took it at face value. Didn't read anything into it. Jenny didn't leave the subject, pacing alongside him as he walked back to the house, and running her index fingers around her eyes in imitation of his dark bags. 'I'm fine' Charles said, casting her a ''leave-it-alone'' look and she shrugged. 'Just remember we're all due at Mom's tonight' she said, before skipping over to where her motorcycle leaned against his porch. She was off, speed-demon that she was, before he even climbed the steps into his house. He lived next to the garage, having snapped up the old Leeman property last year so as to move out of the family home. It was a fixer-upper that Charles never had time to fix. Everything needed a lick of paint, a tad more furniture, a little more comfort. But it was just him and he didn't care that much. A quick shower, a quick chance into a checkered shirt and jeans, and he was driving into the centre of town as the long summer afternoon gave way to an equally bright evening. His blue sedan, an old run-around with the family business's logo on the sides. The radio stuttered to life as he drove and, for the second time that afternoon, the past came bubbling back. '...there are many rumours about the pilot of Flight 4012' the ragged voice crackled and Charles groaned. His brother Daniel like to switch the radio to the local libertarian conspiracy talk-radio nutcase when he knew Charles wasn't looking, winding his older brother up on purpose. But his hand stayed at the dial as the host continued his rambling rant. '...chatter that its a woman, maybe even from our state, but folks let me tell you...' He shut it off as he pulled into downtown. Stupid. But...what if.... No, he thought, closing the door and smoothing down his clothes. What would be the chances? There must be plenty of female pilots. Besides, she had forfeited his concern a long time ago.