Chapter Eight: Under Pressure
While Jerry and Emily remained on good terms, a distinct awkwardness pervaded the base whenever Katie and Jerry were together. To Emily, it was clear that they each still had deep feelings for each other and it frustrated her that they didn't see it. She enlisted Cooper's help to try and get them alone once in a while, but Katie nearly always called their bluff and Jerry would shake his head warningly when Emily would stand to leave. Discouraged, she submitted and sat back, watching two of her closest friends suffer through their breakup.
On top of this, she had received news from home that caused her great distress: her father had had an accident with the ice and had come home with a chronic cough that showed no signs of letting up. Weighed down by this news, she was unprepared for a sudden increase in the rigidity of her schedule. Whether it was because more and more countries were starting to set up bases along the coastline, or maybe because the technology and method of extracting and reading ice cores had skyrocketed, she and Katie began to morph from relaxed, fly-on-their-own-time pilots to busy, high-demand, military-style fliers. Instead of choosing their missions and having free time to visit bases, both were assigned to specific areas with two to three stations each and were solely responsible for handling the increased, end-of-the-season flurry of activity that occurred every year as scientists rushed to get their data collected and sent off. On numerous occasions, she or Katie had to fly to New Zealand to directly meet scientists and pick up fresh supplies in time for deadlines. Under these new conditions, it became increasingly difficult to spend time with each other, let alone with their friends at Victoria.
Under this added pressure, Emily snapped. Her eyes lost their usual vivid life and sank deep into her drawn, haggard face. On the off chance that a free weekend opened up, she refused point-blank to go anywhere, choosing instead to remain at home with a book. This disturbed Katie greatly, but she had no time to sit and talk to her about it.
A pivotal point was reached about a month before the season closed out for the year when, to Katie's alarm, she discovered that Emily had withdrawn her name entirely from the roster of bush pilots. Bryan Rice had questioned her about it, wondering what had happened to Emily, and had shown her the proof of it. Bewildered and deeply concerned, Katie wondered what on earth could have convinced Emily to stop flying; it was her greatest passion. She resolved one night to catch Emily before she slipped away again to work with the maintenance crews. So, she pulled out one of her roommate's favorite books and settled down to browse through it until she came home.
To her great surprise, as she flipped open the Advanced Flight Techniques book, if fell to a page Emily had bookmarked with three pictures. One was of a tall, burly, distinguished looking older man with silver hair and a dazzling smile standing in front of a rusty old biplane. Flipping it over, she read: "My dearest Emily, you are the kind of daughter every father wants to have – one who desires to carry on the family legacy. Your grandfather flew before me, and his father before him, and I know they are proud of you. I am proud of you too, my precious daughter. Don't ever get tired of the open sky, my little falcon. Love, Dad." The next was a professional snapshot of a handsome young man with flame-red hair and tanned, freckled skin. His green eyes glinted as vividly beneath his shy lashes as Emily's. This one read: "Hey 'Mily, happy 23rd birthday! I got my senior pictures early, so here's the best one for you to keep. I love you, big sis and have fun down there! Love, Brocks." Immediately Katie recognized him as Emily's younger brother, Brockton Hawkins, who would be concluding his senior year when they went home. Moving it aside, she blinked in surprise at the last picture. It was of a younger, teenaged Emily, wearing a pale green tank top over a yellow swimsuit, her strawberry-blonde hair held back by a pair of dark sunglasses and blowing in the wind. The most surprising aspect of the picture, however, was the boy with her. It took Katie a few seconds to recognize a deeply tanned, towheaded Jerry, whose arms were thrown around Emily from behind. Both were grinning broadly against the breathtaking backdrop of the ocean. This one, too, had a caption: "To my main girl: Don't ever forget these happy days. Love you forever, Jerry Shepard." Apparently, Emily had taken his words to heart, for it was slightly rumpled and looked well worn, as though she pulled it out often to look at it. Katie wondered briefly if her friend had gotten over Jerry as completely as she claimed she had.
The click of a door and the rustle of a coat alerted her to Emily's return. The pilot-turned-mechanic tossed her coat and snowmobile keys on the counter and came into the room, pulling off her gloves and scarf. She froze when she saw Katie sitting with the book open on her lap, holding the three photos.
"Emily, we need to talk," Katie said softly.
"There's nothing to talk about," Emily said gruffly, crossing the room to take the book, jam the pictures back in it and slam it shut, her green eyes radiating betrayal. "What gives you the right to go through my things?" she asked reproachfully as she tried without success to reshelf the book with trembling hands.
"Emily." Katie laid a hand on her friend's arm, halting her efforts to shelf the book. Reluctantly, Emily's shoulders sagged and she turned to face her. "Just answer me one question." She waited until Emily nodded hesitantly before continuing, "Why are you here?"
"I… I was hungry and needed something to eat," Emily replied, obviously confused.
"No, Em, why are you here, in Antarctica? Why are you here to be a pilot if you won't even fly? Don't you want to?"
Emily's green eyes registered shock, then they grew very sad. "I love flying…so much that I can't leave it alone… not entirely," she said quietly, half to herself.
Katie's brown eyes filled with sympathy. "Why are you trying to leave it?"
"Oh Kate," Emily suddenly turned away as her voice broke and tears began to spill down her cheeks. Hesitantly, Katie reached out and touched her shoulder, then moved closer, pulling her friend into a hug and allowing her to cry on her shoulder. After an undefinable amount of time, Emily's shudders ceased and her tears began to dry as she took deeper breaths. Sensing it was okay to talk, Katie took her friend's hand and pulled her down to sit beside her on the couch. Emily tucked her legs up underneath her and hugged the book to her chest – all in all, looking more vulnerable than Katie could ever remember seeing her. "I should have told you," Emily murmured in a small, quavering voice, "but I was stupid and tried to deal with it alone." She took a halting breath. "About five weeks ago, I received a letter from my mother that my father had had an accident in the ice and had come home early from the Arctic with a bad cough. Well… about a week ago, I received this…" she paused to open the book to another page where a rumpled, tear-stained letter lay between the pages. She pulled it out and passed it to Katie, who read it.
"My darling Emily,
I'm afraid that the news I write is not happy. Since your father's ice-accident earlier last season, you are aware that his health has been… well, frail. Last Thursday, he fell ill with pneumonia and was hospitalized immediately. He never got better. Today, at four o' clock this morning, your father passed away…"
Katie felt her voice catch in her throat as she stopped reading and looked up at Emily's lined face. "Oh Emily, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
Emily shook her head, dismissing the apology. "Ever since that day, it's been getting harder and harder to get in the cockpit of a plane, knowing that the man who first put me there is gone forever. I just can't deal with it anymore." She looked up at Katie, her eyes filled with deep pain and remorse. "I'm not coming back next season. I'll go back to California and finish getting my degree in animal psychology."
"But why?" Katie asked, shaking her head in confusion. She took Emily's hands in her own. "You can't run from the pain, Emily. It will follow you wherever you go until you face it and learn to accept that your father's gone. I'm not saying that you forget him," she continued quickly, seeing a defensive remark on the tip of her friend's tongue, "But instead of running from his memory, you might try to embrace it; honor it." Gently, she took the book from Emily's hands and pulled out the picture of her father, flipping it so that the words were facing up. She watched her friend take the picture and read it again, tears welling up in her eyes. "Your father would want you to keep flying," she whispered, her eyes scanning Emily's face.
For a long while, Emily simply sat there, neither speaking or moving, just staring at the words written in bold print on the back of her father's photograph. When she finally looked up at Katie, her eyes were wide, but no longer so utterly empty and sad. "Do you think I should keep flying?"
Katie shrugged. "It's your choice, Em, but I'll stand by you no matter what you choose to do."
Emily stared at her friend with a mixture of gratitude and affection, then, on impulse, hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Katie. You are the truest friend anyone could ever have."
Katie returned the hug, then pulled away as she though of something. "Jerry should know."
Emily gave her a puzzled look. "What?"
"No matter what's happened between you two, you're still friends and he knew your father. He deserves to know."
Emily thought for a moment before nodding. "All right. We'll go the next time you're free. But Katie?"
"Yes?"
"Don't make me ride shotgun or in the pilot's seat. I'll sit in the back."
Katie shrugged again. "It's your choice. I won't interfere."
