Flying Too Close to the Sun by George Jehn (most inspirational books TXT) 📗

duffels into the clammy basement. He opened a small door, pushed the cobwebs away with his hands and locked the duffel bags in the dark recesses of this unlighted and unventilated closet like the guilty secret they were. No one wanting to breathe fresh air would even go near it. He next phoned Carol, asking in what he hoped sounded like good spirits. “How about we have dinner tonight?” No reply. “At Chez Nous?”

“Can we afford it? The owner will probably charge us this time and that money could be better spent.”

“We’ll worry about that later. There’s something more important...oh never mind. Be ready at seven.” After hanging up he called and reserved a table for eight o’clock. Erik showered and dressed in a white shirt, black striped tie and charcoal-colored sports jacket and drove to Carol’s. She was captivating in her short, size-six green satin dress, replete with white scarf and mesh stockings. As he pulled her close and they kissed, her clean hair still smelling of shampoo, tickled his nose.

Although Erik looked more handsome than ever, with eyes that resembled green ice, she sensed a foreboding. “Are you all right?”

“I guess?”

“Something’s bothering you.”

He didn’t answer, just shrugging his shoulders. He was trying to hide the inner feelings of guilt and didn’t want to think of her with regret on sleepless nights, all alone, but did want the life together with her that he never had. He’d come clean and beg for understanding.

.     .     .

Except for the radio they drove in silence, which heightened the tension. Forty-five minutes later they were seated in the same enchanted setting with the glitter of crystal on stark white cloth. Despite the ambiance Erik found himself awash in black feelings. Even the maitre d’ in his black tux more resembled a priest conducting a funeral when he recommended the rack of lamb and pommes frites. The circuits from Erik’s brain to his taste buds were so out of whack the man could have been recommending a burger and fries to go with the inexpensive bottle of Merlot he ordered. Once it was poured he viewed Carol through the red mist while holding the wineglass in front of his face without a hint of a smile. He had only sins to confess. How would she react? What roadmap would his life now follow? Could he crawl from the abyss he’d created?

“You look like something is wrenching at your gut. What’s wrong?” she demanded. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

The time had arrived. His heart thrashed around inside his chest like it was trying to escape his body. The words were inside him, and like a noisy jet, had to be heard. He inhaled deeply. “Remember the missing money I told you about?” No response. His throat burned like someone had poured gasoline down it and struck a match. This wasn’t easy because it entailed inviting someone else into a private place where the past could not be used as a building block of the future. “Well, I was involved in the theft of it.” The words came out barely audible. Why was he telling her this? She was hurting. He could tell. “It wasn’t only me,” he immediately added, “Captain Shepard and another guy...”

Carol still didn’t grasp the full implications of what was spoken, other than the obvious. “That woman,” she hissed through tightly clenched teeth, “the one who had her arm around you.”

He held up his hand. “She’s dead.”

“She’s dead? Murdered?” She almost choked on her napkin.

“No. She had a seizure and died.”

Forcing her repertoire of questions into temporary storage, the softness in her eyes melted away and darkness crept into the edges of Carol’s vision as the implications of what was spoken hit home. “Tell me the rest.”

“You have to believe I wasn’t involved with her. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. I believe you only run into someone who’s a perfect fit once and then you do whatever it takes to hold on. Now you own a part of my soul. There’s no way to describe how I felt when you and your family welcomed me, especially after all the time I spent trying to get away from mine. You’re the light that led me out of a bleak tunnel.” He considered telling her why his father dealt with him the way he did but again, decided against it for now. The one secret he was about to reveal was enough.

“Why’d you get involved?”

“I didn’t ask to.” Awkward silence bobbed on the surface. He could tell she was hurting, so he took her hand in his. But it felt like she had just removed it from the freezer and she pulled away. “Taking the money was her idea. I swear. I was terrified of being caught and losing you, but was in a no-win situation.”

“Jesus, Erik. Just explain,” anger pushing away her fear.

“The money issue was paramount. Until your Dad came through I was gonna lose my job. Then, I screwed up during the Boston emergency and she noticed. It wasn’t serious, but could’ve been. And she could’ve made my life hell and said if the chief pilot knew he might fire me. If that happened, I’d owe even more money to Shuttle Air for my training. Either way, I was stripped down, nerves exposed and afraid of falling into a bottomless pit.” His moss-green eyes filled with pain. “I had to hold onto my job. Then, she brought in this guy Juni...”

“Who?”

“She needed another person for this scheme to work and she met this guy, Juni Rosario through her boyfriend. He’s his uncle. Juni needed money to keep his family-run bakery afloat. She believed he’d bring the know-how that we lacked. In short, he removed money that was aboard our plane, in the cargo hold. Our only part was to create a minor mechanical diversion for a couple of minutes on a foggy Boston taxiway with a contrived problem. That gave him enough time to remove the