Their father was a pilot for the Air Force and NASA. It was no surprise then, when the eldest expressed an interest in flying. Their father took him up for the first time before he could even remember, and demanded to go flying whenever their father was home obsessed with the feel of soaring through the sky.
The third son enjoyed flying as well, but was more interested in how the plane worked than in the actual flight. He would strain to look out the window to watch the flaps move as the plane banked and landed. However, he was always as eager as his eldest brother to fly.
Scott was eleven, Virgil eight. They were on their way back from Wichita. It was a scheduled snow day with no snow, so their father took the three oldest with him to a meeting at his main offices and for a short shopping trip—they were growing out of their clothes faster than planned.
Scott sat in the co-pilot seat as usual, watching his father's every move as he maneuvered the plane above the clouds. John was buckled in behind their father, his nose in a book like always—it wasn't dark out so he wasn't interested in the sky just yet. Virgil was behind Scott, buckled up as well, also watching his father, imagining the mechanisms that moved with every twitch of the stick or push of a button.
Their father was relaxed, it was a routine flight, one he had done many times before. Once he had leveled off, he watched his eldest out of the corner of his eye. He had grown quite a bit, though still wasn't tall enough to see out of the front window of the plane. Still, he was there so if he needed to take back control quickly, he could.
"Scott, how about you take the stick for a moment."
Scott turned his head to face his father, his eyes wide. "Me? Fly?"
"You don't want to?"
"No! I mean yea! Of course I do!" He bounced in his seat for a moment before stopping and staring at the stick in front of him. It had always been forbidden for him to touch it, so it was with hesitant hands—the deep seated fear of being yelled out ingrained in his head—that he reached out and took the stick in his hands.
"You need to hold onto it tight, got it?"
Scott scooted himself up in his seat and tightened his hold on it. "I got it."
"I'm letting go now." Their father loosened his hands and the plan banked to the right suddenly.
"What's going on?" John was clinging to his seat, his book forgotten on the floor.
"Scott's flying!" Virgil was bouncing in his seat, trying to look around the seat in front of him.
"Am I?" Scott sounded dubious, as if he could actually do something like that.
"It's all in your control." His father's deep chuckle only made Scott smile wider. "Pull back a bit, the nose is starting to go down."
Scott pulled, but couldn't move the stick. He lifted his leg and put it up against the dash and was finally able to pull it back a little. His father just laughed.
"When can I fly?" Virgil was there, next to the seat watching Scott with fascination.
"You've still got a few years." Their father replied glancing down at him and frowning. "Why are you out of your seat?"
"I was getting John's book."
"Virgil, what is the rule?"
"Never take off your belt." Virgil slouched and climbed back into his seat, buckling himself back in.
Their father let Scott fly for a couple more minutes before taking back control.
That wasn't the last time Scott was allowed to control the plane. He would let him almost any time they were in the plane together. Slowly his father started showing him the controls, teaching him how to read the dials and gauges and even testing him to see if he could remember them.
Virgil was almost always right there, often being told off for being out of his seat, but he would listen closely and learned the ways of flying as well.
By the time Scott was twelve his father had given him the flight manual and told him to read up. Scott would have loved to have sat and read the whole thing, but he had school and could only read it a bit at a time. Often when he found time to read it, he had to go searching for it. Virgil would find it laying around and pick it up, reading what he could himself—though he understood very little at the time. Scott could pick up a bit more from the thick manual, and by the time summer came around he had read it all.
In the summer of Scott's fourteenth year his father started to let him fly for real. He was taught how to take off and to navigate while in the air. Virgil listened to everything their father told his eldest brother when they were on the ground, but was no allowed to be in the plane when Scott was in control—he didn't want there to be any distraction.
By the summer of Scott's fifteenth year he was taking off and landing with very little help from his father. Virgil would go with them when they flew, though he was still not allowed to fly with them. He would wish them well, often telling Scott 'See you in the sky' as he went to sit in the grass by the fence and work on his homework.
Virgil skidded to a stop next to Scott and his father, gasping for air. "He—hey." He was bent over in half his legs shaking under him. "Ha—have?"
"Whoa, Virgil, you okay?" Scott was next to him, a hand on his back.
Virgil shut his mouth for a moment to swallow some spit, his throat dry from his hard breathing. "Fine. Ran. School." He waved his hand off in the general direction he had come from.
"You ran here from school!" Scott could't help but gasp a little at that. Their school was a good seven miles from the airfield.
"I—told you—I would—see you—in the sky." Virgil was still gasping for air, though slowly his breathing was calming down.
"Sorry, bro. I landed about ten minutes ago."
"Damn it!" Virgil fell back on his rear and stared up at the sky above him.
"Language, Virgil" Their father glanced back, but had a smile on his face.
"I've got my certificate now, you'll see me fly tons of times from now on."
"Yeah, but this was your first solo flight. There won't be any more of those."
"Tell you what." Scott squatted down so he was next to his brother. "When you do your first solo flight, I'll be here to watch you. No matter what I'm doing, I'll drop it and come back home to see you in the sky."
Virgil frowned for a moment and then nodded. "Deal." He reached out his hand and Scott met it, shaking on it. "So, how was it?"
"Amazing." Scott was grinning again and sat down to regal Virgil on his first flight by himself.
It wasn't until he was fifteen that his father handed over the flight manual—even though he had had it memorized for a few years now—and started to really show him how to fly. It wasn't that Virgil wasn't uninterested, or that his father thought he wouldn't be able to handle it. It was the unfortunate fact that he was a little short—even with a booster seat.
It didn't take him long to learn though, and on his sixteenth birthday—just like his older brother—he flew his first solo flight.
Virgil was pacing in front of the hanger, alternately looking to the sky and looking down at his phone. Scott had promised to be there, but he had texted him almost an hour ago, and had not gotten a reply yet. His father had also promised to leave work early to be there for him, but he had yet to see the familiar shape of Tracy 1 in the sky either.
"Virgil. We can't wait any longer." It was his teacher—his father having become too busy to teach him himself. "We'll do a few rounds together, maybe by the time you go up alone they'll be here."
Virgil sighed and nodded. His instructor had a few other students, and other lessons to take care of. He couldn't make anyone else wait because of him.
Virgil taxied the plane out to the air strip and took off, flying a few laps before landing, only to take off again and repeating the procedure. They did that one more time before the instructor had Virgil drop him off in front of the small shack that served as the airport's control center.
It was time for Virgil to fly solo, yet neither his father nor Scott had arrived to see him. He took a deep breath and tried his best not to think of them. This was his day, his flight. He taxied and took off, flew around the course a few times, and then landed.
It hadn't been perfect, he almost had to abort the landing, but had been able to correct himself in time. Still he had done it himself. He taxied to the hanger where he could see his instructor waving at him and smiling.
He got out of the plane feeling confident, and excited. He was limited in what he could do, where he could go, but he could fly on his own now.
"Excellent job, Virgil!" His instructor slapped him on the back while showing him the video he had taken of his his flight. "I sent the video to your father. Hope that was okay."
"No, of course, it's fine." Virgil's good mood crashed. Nobody else was there to see it, the video was his only proof. His phone rang then and he pulled it out of his pocket to answer it.
'Virgil! I just got the video, way to go, son!'
"Thanks. Why weren't you here?"
'Sorry, Virg, I have a meeting still going on. I can't get them to agree on anything. It's a nightmare.'
Virgil sighed. If he was calling him Virg, then he was stressed. "Nah, it's okay."
'What did Scott think?'
"He didn't show. I texted him before I went up, but I haven't got—Hold on, I just got a text, maybe its him." Virgil pulled the phone from his ear and looked down at the alert.
~Sorry Virg, Prof assigned a research paper due next week and a test on Friday. There was just noway I could make it home. Are you mad?~
~Nah, I know you would have come if you could. It was awesome though. Good luck on your test.~
"Dad, still there?"
'Yea, was it Scott?'
"Yeah, got extra homework and a test piled on at the last second."
'Sorry, son. Sometimes that's the way life works.'
"Yeah, I know. Well, I'll let you get back to the meeting."
'Alright. You'll tell me all about it at dinner.'
"Yes, sir." Virgil tried to sound happy, but his happiness was quickly draining. His instructor had gone off to his next lesson for the evening and Virgil was alone. He quickly walked off around the side of the hanger and leaned up against it.
He was ashamed of himself. Sixteen-year-olds didn't cry, shouldn't cry, but he did. He had wanted his father and brother there, and neither had been.
Scott was gone for most of the next few years—college taking up all of his time. By the time he graduated he had enrolled in the Air Force and was off at boot camp. Virgil never saw his brother fly in those fast planes of his—the once chance his family did go off to see him fly, Virgil was stuck at his own collage with a project he couldn't put off any longer.
When Virgil finally graduated from college, Scott had quit the Air Force. Virgil didn't understand the decision at first, but within a month after his graduation he found out. They all moved out to their father's island after that. Spent the next couple of years training to fly their own planes and learning what they needed to fulfill their father's dream.
When their father's organization was finally up and running, and their first rescue at hand, Virgil could only think of one thing to tell his brother.
"Scott!" Virgil was standing in front of the picture of the rocket that would lead him to his ship, Scott has his back against the wall, his hands on the sconces that would activate the hidden panel.
"Yeah, Virg?"
"See you in the sky." Virgil couldn't help but smile.
Scott smiled back and nodded. "See you in the sky."