Chapter 4

After landing at the Wichita airport, they had made the ninety mile drive in relative silence. Jeff was concerned about Lucy as there was no doubt in his mind that she was definitely in the clutches of one of the migraines she dreaded so much. She kept telling him she was okay and not to worry, but the darkness under her eyes and her uncharacteristic silence belied her words of assurance. Even worse was the fact she made no comment as he drove way over the speed limit once they left the busy city roads for the open interstate. Usually she would tease him about being the first man to break the sound barrier with an automobile, but this time there was only silence as she laid back in her seat, eyes closed tight against the light with a look of abject misery on her face.

"Almost there," Jeff assured as they made the last turn onto the dirt road. The farm was only a mile ahead.

Lucy didn't open her eyes but managed a smile. "Thank you for breaking the speed limit all the way from Wichita, Jeff."

Jeff smiled. It wouldn't be a homecoming without that. His foot eased off the gas as he navigated down the dirt road, avoiding pot holes and a big black and white cat that slinked across the road. Rows of corn, green leaves fluttering in the breeze, stretched out on each side of the road as far as the eye could see. Eventually the corn gave way to fields of wheat. He slowed and move the car over to the very edge of the road to avoid a slow moving tractor. The driver waved at him and Jeff recognized him as Kenny, the man that helped out on the farm. Riding beside him in the tractor cab, a young boy excitedly squirmed, waving at them.

Jeff stopped alongside them and smiled up at his second-oldest son. The five year old was almost bursting with excitement. Jumping off the tractor, the boy ran up to the car. "Dad!" he shouted as he opened the car door and threw himself at Jeff.

The young's boy exuberance was catching and he hugged the child tightly. Virgil started to clamber over to his mother but Jeff held him back. "Hold up there, Virgil, your mother's got a headache..."

Lucy opened her eyes and held her arms out to the little boy. "I'm okay, Jeff. Come here, Buster..." Happily, Virgil climbed right over Jeff and settled onto Lucy's lap. Immediately, he started telling her all about how he helped out on the farm the last couple of days. The excited, childish chattering continued even after they had pulled up to the old white farm house and Lucy walked hand-in-hand with Virgil up the shady stone walk to the front porch.

Jeff stayed in the car for a while. Leaning against the back of the seat, he listened to the whirring insects and chirping birds. Far off he could hear the lowing of a cow. He was glad to be home. There was something eternally soothing about the farm on the east Kansas plain where he had grown up. The familiar white farm house with the shagbark Hickory trees shading the green shingled roof was like the guiding beacon of a lighthouse. No matter how far he went away, he always came back to this place.

As unchanging as the farm was, there were always some improvements each time he came home. Grant Tracy was an enterprising kind of farmer who was always willing to try a new venture. He was a shrewd when it came to knowing what would turn a profit and what was best left alone. The last couple years had seen the addition of two long barns housing turkeys and cattle, both of which supplemented the farm's income nicely.

Jeff glanced at his watch. It would be time for lunch soon and he wasn't ready to go into the house just yet. He slowly got out of the car and walked towards a much larger aluminum building that housed all the farm's equipment. The sun's heat on his head and shoulders pulled him to a stop. Looking upward, he closed his eyes and let it soak into him. He could still feel the chill of space but it wasn't as oppressive. He could hear the acres and acres of wheat rustling in the breeze and he felt some tension ease away.

He opened his eyes and looked warily at the barn. Maybe Grant wouldn't be in there. After all, tinkering with the machinery was something the old farmer liked to do when the weather was poor or daylight ran out for other work. Jeff just wanted to go in and visit the Tiger Moth by himself. To his relief, Jeff found that the only company he had was a jacked-up tractor with a missing tire and a dismantled grain driller.

Once his eyes adjusted to the dark interior, Jeff made his way to a door behind the farm equipment. He hesitated before reaching for the handle. As the door opened, he blinked in surprise as light flooded out from the florescent ceiling lights. He could hear the sound of children's voices. His oldest son, Scott, sat in the front of the yellow and red Tiger Moth biplane, while the white-blonde head of three-year old John was just visible behind him in back cockpit.

"What do you think you're doing in here?" Jeff voice echoed like thunder in the small hangar. Feeling dark and terrible, he looked one of the thunderheads that rolled along the sky on a humid summer afternoon.

Both boys jumped. The younger boy's blonde head disappeared from view and he slid out of sight as he hid on the floor of the back cockpit but Scott didn't move. His blue eyes were wide with unconcealed horror at being discovered in the forbidden plane by their father.

"How many times have I told you not to come in here?"

"Lots of times, Father. Probably so many times we couldn't count that high," Scott said, his voice shaking.

"Get down here." Jeff pointed to the ground in front of him. "Now!"

Scott scrambled down from the plane and ran over to the exact spot where his father pointed. Hands behind his back, he stared at the ground.

"John, come down here." Jeff waited, but there was no sign of movement. "John! When I tell you something you better listen!" He marched over to the Tiger Moth and roughly retrieved the reluctant boy who promptly started to wail and struggle. As soon as Jeff set him on the ground, he ran to Scott for comfort. The older boy placed a protective arm around his younger brother.

Scott took a deep breath before he started to speak, his voice still tremulous. "It was my idea to play pilot, Father. Johnny don't know about not coming in here. You can feed me bread and water and lock me up in the cellar for a year but don't you yell at him." Gaining courage, Scott stomped his foot on the ground. "Don't you dare!"

Jeff took a step backward, amazed at the open defiance in his son. This kind of behavior couldn't be tolerated. If he let it go, then it would just evolve into rebellion and then insubordination, and that in turn could lead to... He stopped himself, feeling confusion rising. Insubordination? Who was he thinking about? His sons or his men? Suddenly, he felt ashamed as he looked at his boys. They had disobeyed him, but he wasn't sure where parental justice began and where his anger at the way the mission went wrong ended. He knew one thing for sure. They were clearly terrified of him, even Scott with his desperate attempt at protecting his younger brother.

"Go on, boys. Lunch is ready." Grant Tracy had come in undetected and Jeff wondered just how long he had been standing there.

Scott and John wasted no time in heading to the house, leaving the two men alone. Jeff kicked at the ground before he realized that he was acting just like he used to as a teenager when his father confronted him about something. Grant held out a hand, rough from the harsh daily farm work. "Son."

"Father." Jeff took the offered hand and shook it, looking his father in the eye. Expecting to see disapproval or disappointment, he was surprised to see only concern and something else he couldn't quite identify.

Grant broke the silence. "I told the boys they could play in here until you came home."

Jeff glared at his father, suppressing an urge to shout at him. "You know I don't want them fooling around in here."

"They weren't doing any harm."

"That's not the point. When I tell them to do something, I expect them to obey me."

"They will," Grant said. "Those kids have been through enough this last week. I thought this would be something nice for them to remember during the time when everyone was saying that their father wasn't coming back from the Moon." He wiped his hands on his jeans. "Not alive anyhow."

Jeff wasn't sure what to say. He suddenly knew what he had seen in his father's eyes. Relief.

"Your mother was hoping you'd stop in the house first to see her, but I figured I knew where'd you gotten off to." Grant put his hands in his pockets and looked impassively at the plane. "Some things don't change."

Jeff kicked at the dirt again. "Yeah, some things don't."

They stood in silence in the shadow of the Tiger Moth, close to each other physically but both could feel the distance widening between them again.

Grant walked away first, heading for the hangar door. "When you're ready, come on down to the house for lunch." Pausing, he called over his shoulder. "Don't take too long either. You know your mother doesn't like coming up here."

Jeff was alone again. With only his thoughts to keep him company, he climbed up into the cockpit of the Tiger Moth. He slid down in the seat and studied the metal framework of the hangar's ceiling. He knew he should head back to the house but he wasn't ready to face the family as a whole just yet. The shame for his severity dealing with Scott and John still stung. This was not how he pictured his homecoming and seeing them for the first time. He had come so close to never seeing any of his family again and here he was lashing out at them. He would have to make it up to them. Yes, he would, he decided. He would find a way.

The fluttering of wings and a soft cooing of a pigeon reminded him of the passing time. The bluish grey and white bird landed on the top wing of the tiger moth and cocked his head at him. "Leave me alone," Jeff said. He waved a hand at the curious bird, hoping to scare it away. Instead, the pigeon sidled down the wing closer to him.

"Stay if you want to then, bird brain. I'll go." Jeff climbed out of the cockpit. He knew he had to go back or his mother would come find him and he had caused enough hurt already. She disliked the hangar, and even more she hated the sight of theTiger Moth. There was no use in bringing up bad memories just because he didn't feel like talking or socializing.

Squaring his shoulders, he took one last look at the Tiger Moth. It hadn't given him the usual comfort or solace he expected. It only made the darkness in his soul worse. He had to find a way to find peace somehow. Instinctively he knew that if he didn't, the failed moon mission had the potential to destroy him.