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Finn points to the side of the plane and flames begin shooting out of the grates there.
“Oh, my God,” I exclaim. “Is that normal?”
He laughs. “Yeah. Pretty fucking cool, huh?”
“So do you have any rituals before taking off?” I ask. “Say any prayers?” Finn doesn’t strike me as a religious kind of guy, but I’m so curious about his flying and why he loves it so much.
“I silently say the same thing Alan Shepard said before launch.”
“And what was that?”
“Please, God, don’t let me screw up.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” I say dryly.
“So far, it’s worked every time,” he informs me jauntily. “Okay, hold on. Here we go.”
We begin to move forward and he taxis the plane over to a huge section of grass.
“Where’s the runway?” I ask dubiously.
“You’re looking at it.” Suddenly he’s hitting buttons, flipping switches, pulling levers. My heart pounds in my ears and I’m wishing my feet were back on solid ground. But it’s too late for that. We begin moving forward, picking up speed and gliding down the green runway. Trees zip by and I grab onto my shoulder harness, sending off a quick prayer to whoever is listening.
Please, don’t let him screw up.
The ground drops away beneath us and we’re airborne. Everything starts getting smaller as we climb higher. And it’s breathtaking. The sky is blue and I feel like I could reach out and brush my fingers along the few fluffy clouds hanging so close.
“How’re you doing back there?” Finn asks.
“Good,” I say, my earlier fear falling away. “God, it’s beautiful up here, Finn.”
“I know,” he murmurs.
“How high are we?”
“About 1600 feet.”
“Can you take me above the clouds?” I ask teasingly.
“Sure can.”
We continue to travel upwards and break through a pair of fluffy, marshmallow-like clouds. A sense of wonder fills me and experiencing this with Finn is suddenly something very special.
“You ready to do a couple rolls?” he asks.
“Um, I don’t know.”
“You’ll love it,” he assures me.
The next thing I know, the entire plane is turning and I squeal as we go completely upside down. “Finn!” I screech.
His laughter booms through my headset and we straighten out. “Now tell me that wasn’t fun!” he yells and gives a whoop.
“You’re lucky I don’t get sick easily. Because I don’t see a barf bag back here.”
“Only iron stomachs allowed on Lucy,” he tells me. “How about a four-point roll?”
The plane begins to rotate again but, this time, it seems to momentarily stop four different times and, for a couple of seconds, we’re suspended upside down. There’s so much adrenaline rushing through me that I actually keep my eyes open, unwilling to miss a moment.
