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abin in a few minutes。 Maybe a shot of Irish whiskey while the fire was driving out the chill。 Tomorrow he would…
He could hear the engine of the pickup behind roaring and the headlights spotlighted his dash and windshield。 He squinted。 What was that damn fool doing？ Did he want to pass？ We're right at that overlook…
The truck behind smashed into his rear bumper and pushed him。 Strong fought the wheel。 His vehicle was accelerating。 He applied the brakes。 Wheel lock…up。 He released the brakes and jammed the throttle down。 He was trying to steer but the wheels wouldn't bite on the slick pavement。 Goddamn…the car was going across the road； straight for the overlook pullout。
In the gravel the car skidded sideways and Strong glanced over his shoulder； straight into the pickup's headlights。 Then he felt the lurch as the pickup slammed on its brakes。
Panicked； he looked forward but saw nothing； still blinded from the headlights' glare。 He felt the car's nose go down； then it began to roll； over and over and over。
The motion stopped suddenly with a terrific； smashing impact。
When he came out of his daze he was in darkness and the engine was silent。 There was a little light； but it seemed to e from above and behind； from the road。 Jesus。。。 Something black and wet beside him。 A tree trunk； where the passenger seat used to be。
The car was half wrapped around a tree。 He had gone down over the edge and rolled several times and smashed into a tree。 That asshole in the pickup。。。 trying to kill him。
He wasn't hurt too bad。 Thank God for seat belts。 Blood on his face； minute pieces of glass everywhere。 He was still groggy。 What's that smell？ Gasoline！ A leak。 He fumbled for the seat…belt release。
Someone was beside him； reaching in through the smashed window。 〃Hey…〃
He was being splashed with something wet 〃What…〃 Gas！ It was gas！ 〃Please； you gotta…〃
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the lighted match e floating through the broken window。 The roar of the gasoline igniting was the last sound he heard。
2
The airplanes were shiny and brilliant in their bright colors of red； yellow and blue。 They hung in the window suspended on wires； frozen in flight； the spring sunlight firing the wings and fuselages and emphasizing the sleek perfection of their forms。
Jake Grafton stood on the sidewalk and stared。 He examined each one carefully； letting his eyes roam from tail to prop to gull…like wingtip。 After a moment he pushed the door open and went into the warm shop； out of the weak sunshine and the cool breeze ing off the ocean。
As he stood and gazed at another dozen or so planes banging from the ceiling； the shop proprietor behind the glass counter laid aside his newspaper and cleared his throat。 〃Good morning。〃
〃Hi。〃 Jake glanced at the man。 He was balding and bearlike and perched on a stool。 〃You've got some nice airplanes here。〃
〃Sure do。 You have a son interested in radio control？〃
Jake let his eyes find the swooping； soaring forms above his head。 〃No；〃 he said thoughtfully。 〃Just looking。〃
The proprietor began turning the pages of his newspaper as Jake moved deeper into the shop。 He wandered slowly； examining the counter displays； fingering balsa from a wire bin； scanning the rack of X…actokmves and miniature drills； looking at the rows and rows of boxes with airplanes and cars on the covers that stood on shelves behind the counter。 Finally； back at the door； he muttered his thanks to the shopkeeper and went out onto the sidewalk。
The sea breeze was brisk this morning and tangy with salt。 Not many people on the street。 This Delaware beach town lived on tourists and summer was a long way off。 At least the sun was out after a week of low； scuddy clouds and intermittent drizzle。 Standing there； Jake could faintly hear the gulls crying as they soared above the beach and boardwalk a half block away。 He looked again at the airplanes in the window； then went back into the shop。
〃Sell me an airplane；〃 he said as the proprietor looked up from his newspaper。
〃Delighted to。 Which one you want？〃
Jake scanned the planes hanging from the ceiling。 He began to examine them critically。
〃You ever build an RC plane before？〃
〃Build？ You mean I can't buy one already made？〃
〃Not any of these； you can't。 My son built all these years ago； before he went to the air force。 They're his。〃
〃Build one；〃 Jake said softly； weighing it。 He hadn't figured on that。 Oh well； the decision was already made。 Now he wanted a plane。 〃Let me see what you have。〃
Forty minutes later； with a yellow credit card invoice for S349。52 tucked into his wallet； Jake Grafton left the hobby store carrying two large sacks and walked the block to his car。 He walked purposefully； quickly。 For the first time in months he had a task ahead that would be worth doing。
Fifteen minutes later he parked the car in the sand…and…crushed…seashell parking area in front of his house。 He could hear the faint ringing of the telephone as he climbed the steps to the little wooden porch。 He unlocked the front door； sat one of the paper sacks on the floor and strode across the living room for the phone on the wall by the kitchen table。 The ringing stopped just as he reached for the receiver。 He went back to the car for the other sack。
The airplane on the lid of the box looked gorgeous； mouthwateringly gorgeous； but inside the box was sheet after sheet of raw balsa wood。 At least the aircraft parts were impressed； stamped； into the wood。 All you would have to do was pick them out and maybe trim the pieces。 The instruction booklet looked devilishly plicated； with photos and line drawings。 Jake studied the pictures。 After a bit he began laying out the balsa pieces from the box on the kitchen table； referring frequently to the pictures in the booklet。 When the box was empty he surveyed the mess and rubbed his temples。 This was going to be a big job； even bigger than he thought。
He put coffee and water in the brewer and was waiting for the Pyrex pot to fill when the phone rang again。 〃Hello。〃
〃Jake。 How are you feeling this morning？〃 Callie； his wife； called twice a day to check on him； even though she knew it irritated him。
〃Fine。 How's your morning going？〃
〃Did you go out？〃
〃Downtown。〃
〃Jake；〃 she said； tension creeping into her voice as she pronounced his name firmly。 〃We need to talk。 When are you going to call that admiral？〃
〃I dunno。〃
〃You can't keep loafing like this。 You're well。 You're going to have to go back to work； or retire and find something to do。 You can't just keep loafing like this。 It isn't you。 It isn't good for you； Jake。〃
She emphasized the word 〃good；〃 Jake noticed listlessly。 That's Callie； instinctively dividing the world into good and evil。 〃We'll talk about it this weekend。〃 She was driving over from Washington when she got off work this evening。 Jake had driven over to the beach house two days ago。
〃That's what you said last weekend； and Monday and Tuesday evenings。 And then you avoid the subject。〃 Her voice was firm。 〃The only way I can get your undivided attention is to call you on the phone。 So that's what I'm doing。 When； Jake？〃
〃This weekend。 We'll discuss it this weekend。 I promise。〃
They muttered their goodbyes。 Jake poured a cup of coffee and sipped it as he sorted through the piles of balsa again。 What had be gotten himself into？
Coffee cup in hand； he went through the front door and walked past UK car to the street。 He turned toward the beach； which was about a hundred yards away。 The house beside him was empty； a smaller place that belonged to some doctor in Baltimore。 The next house belonged to a local； a pharmacist whose wife worked sights down at the drugstore。 He had seen their son on the beach flying a radio…controlled airplane； and didn't Callie say this week was spring break for the kids？ He went to the door and knocked。
〃Captain Grafton。 What a pleasant surprise。〃
〃Hi； Mrs。 Brown。 Is David around？〃
〃Sure。〃 She turned away。 〃David；〃 she called； 〃you have a visitor。〃 She turned back toward him； 〃Won't you e in？〃
The boy appeared behind her。 〃Hey； David；〃 Jake said。 He explained his errand。 〃I need some of your expert advice； if you can e over for a little while。〃
Mrs。 Brown nodded her approval and told her son to be back for lunch。
As they walked down the street； Jake explained about the plane。 The boy smiled broadly when he saw the pile on Jake's kitchen table。 〃The Gentle Lady；〃 David read from the cover of the instruction booklet。 〃That's an excellent airplane for a beginner。 Easy to build and fly。 You chose a good one； Captain。〃
〃Yeah； but I can't tell which parts are which。 They aren't labeled； as far as I can tell。〃
〃Hmmm。〃 David sat at the table and examined the pile。 He was about twelve； still elbows and angles； with medium…length brown hair full of cowlicks。 His fingers moved swiftly and surely among the parts； identifying each one。 〃Did you get an engine for this plane？〃
〃Nope。〃
〃A glider is more difficult to fly； of course； more challenging； but you'll get more satisfaction from mastering it。〃
〃Right；〃 Jake said； eyeing the youngster at the table。
〃Let's see。 You have a knife； and the man at the store…Mr。 Swoze；