He stuffed the paper back in his pocket and started his pre-flight check.As soon as Rita appeared, they’d lift.He didn’t want to be anywhere close to here if the guys in black found their trail—he froze in place for several seconds.
Could they follow their trail across time?Could Mel and the others “see” him in time?If they couldn’t, they’d be worried.
He’d once asked Jack if they could pop in and out of the same time, if he could tweak or alter their interactions based on what they learned.All Jack had said was, “Time is complicated.”
Not exactly an answer.Did it become more or less complicated when you traveled from further in the future?
He shook his head.He was a pilot who could take things apart and put them mostly back together, not a scientist.
He heard voices and looked toward the house in time to see Rita giving Joe a hug.Well, at least someone got the hug.
Joe followed her to the Pitts, helping her up onto the wing before Con could untangle himself—and his thoughts.
“Morning,” he said.Just the brief smile and the look in her eyes told him he wasn’t going to leave her.He couldn’t leave her.His mom had taught him better than that.
Joe followed her onto the wing and made sure she was properly strapped in.
“Thanks, Joe,” Con said.
By the way Joe blushed, he had a feeling he’d gotten one of Rita’s special smiles.He grinned, gave Joe a wave and brought the plexiglass down, securing it.
He started the engine and when he was sure it was turning over like it should, he waved at Joe, and began to roll forward.
The runway was still bumpy and he reminded himself to track down a cushion at their next stop.Joe probably would have ponied up, if he’d had such a thing.
The Pitts lifted like the pro she was.The air currents were a little unstable, but as he climbed things smoothed out.
The day was clear with few clouds in sight.The ground spread out below them, much more attractive from this height.In the distance there were mountains.
He’d spent too much of the night trying to think of somewhere else to go and eventually decided to go with his initial, gut reaction.
Their next fuel stop went without incident—and was still in 1966.Had Rita noticed?He wasn’t sure.Maybe she was so happy to get the cushion, she didn’t have time to notice.
He should have slept when he had the chance.A wave of tiredness swept through him and the horizon wavered in front of him.He rubbed his eyes and shook his head relieved when that seemed to clear the fuzziness.He was happy to see the landing strip ahead.
A grizzled caretaker emerged from the side building and gave an admiring whistle, walking around the plane.
“You headed to the air show?”he asked.
Con hesitated then nodded.Rita smoothed out her puzzled look and asked for a bathroom.When she’d left, moving stiffly, Con turned back to the old man.
“Can I check my coordinates with you?My first time in this area,” he added, in case the man thought it as odd as it felt to Con.
“Sure thing.”
The map on the wall gave him all the information he needed.
The airshow location wasn’t that far from the silo.He glanced around, his gaze falling on a newspaper.He didn’t waste time reading the headline, just squinted to see the date.
July 9, 1970.
At this rate, they’d end up in Rita’s time.Or come face to face with the men in black?Anything could happen, he realized.He was way ahead of his cart right now.Had the time change happened when the horizon wavered?He might be seeing a pattern.
It was just so hard to know which it was, the heat, exhaustion, or time.
He had questions with no answers.It was a relief to lift off.At least in the sky, what year it was didn’t matter.
The sun was once again hanging low in the sky off to their left.On his radio he now picked up traffic that he assumed was from the airshow.
