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Well, if swoop for twenty years more than a thousand miles, you and the age of forty still feel the pleasure of flight; well, if you still can rejoice as artistically planted just a machine, and a little bit otozhmesh handle, lift up a light cloud of dust and smoothly otvoyuesh last inch above the ground. Especially when you land on the snow: A thick snow is very convenient for planting, and nice to sit on the snow as pleasant as walking barefoot on the fluffy carpet in the hotel.
But with flights to "DS-3" when an old car lift up, happened, in the air in any weather and fly over forests anywhere, it was over. Working in Canada gave him a good quenching, and not surprisingly, he ended his life flying over the deserts of the Red Sea, flying at "Feyrchaylde" for oil export Teksegipto company that had the rights to explore for oil around the Egyptian coast. He took "Feyrchayld" over the desert as long as the aircraft is not worn out. Landing sites were not. He planted the car wherever wanted to get off the geologists and hydrologists - on the sand, on the bushes, on the rocky bottom parched creeks and long white sandbanks of the Red Sea. Shoals were the worst: a smooth-looking surface sands always is dotted with large pieces of white coral with a razor-sharp, edges, and if not low centering "Feyrchaylda", he would not have just turned the camera due to a puncture.
But it was all in the past. The company refused to Teksegipto costly attempts to find a large oil field, which would give the same profit, which received Aramco in Saudi Arabia, "Feyrchayld" turned into a miserable wreck and was in one of the Egyptian hangars, covered with a thick layer of dust-colored, all excised from the bottom long narrow slit, with frayed cables, with some semblance of motors and appliances, except that the fit to the dump.
It was over: he was forty three wife left him home for Linnen Street in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and has begun to live as she liked: rode a tram to Harvard Square, shopped in the store without the seller, was visiting her old man in modest wooden house - in fact, led a decent life worthy of a decent woman. He promised to come to her in the spring, but he knew that he would do this, just as he knew he would not get in their years of flight operations, especially one to which he was accustomed, will not get it even in Canada. In those parts supply exceeds demand, and when it came to people experienced; Saskatchewan farmers themselves learned to fly on their "Payperkebah" and "osteria". Recreational Aviation deprived of many old pieces of bread pilots. They were finishing up that were hired to serve mining administration or the government, but such work was too decorous and respectable to come to him in his old age.
So he was left with nothing, except indifference of his wife, which he did not need, but ten year old son, who was born too late and, as you know, deep down Ben, alien to both of them - a lonely, restless child, who is ten years felt that the mother is not interested in them, and his father - a stranger, sharp and terse, not knowing what to talk to him in those rare moments when they had been together.
And now it was not better than ever. Ben took the boy to "Oster", which is wildly Mota at an altitude of two thousand feet above the coast of the Red Sea, and waited for the boy about to rock to sleep.
- If you're going to be sick - said Ben - get down lower to the floor to avoid contamination of the cab.
- All right. - The boy was very unhappy look.
- Are you afraid?Small "Oster" mercilessly tossed into a heated air from side to side, but the frightened boy still did not get lost, and furiously sucking on a lollipop, examining equipment, compass, gyro horizon bouncing.
- A little, - said the boy quiet and shy voice, unlike coarse voices of American children. - And of these shocks will not break the plane?
Ben did not know how to comfort his son, he told the truth: