The Lost Pilots by Corey Mead

Author:Corey Mead
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flatiron Books

14

A TERRIBLE THING

Haden Clarke received no comfort from the letters he and Jessie wrote Lancaster. He lived in fear that Lancaster and Jessie’s love would reassert itself upon Lancaster’s return, and that he, Clarke, would be cast off. His self-doubt seemed to feed upon itself, resulting in increasingly frequent violent outbursts that alternated with periods of gloom and hopelessness. His spirits plunged even further when he received a telegram from his wife detailing the shocking news that their divorce, which he’d expected any day, had been delayed until 1933.

Meanwhile, in St. Louis, Shelton’s father had agreed in principle to Lancaster and Shelton’s plans to buy an amphibian, but he wanted to hold off on specifics until Lancaster’s Miami affairs were in order. To that end, Shelton Sr. loaned Lancaster a hundred dollars for the flight back to Miami.

His homecoming imminent, Lancaster turned to his remaining errands in St. Louis. Having pawned Ernest Huston’s gun in Tucson, he needed to buy a substitute weapon before returning to Florida. Searching the city, he found a .38 Colt revolver, for which he paid thirty dollars of Shelton’s father’s money. Lancaster spent his final day in St. Louis getting a license.

On April 19—the same day that Clarke received the surprise telegram from his wife—Lancaster flew from St. Louis to Nashville, where he woke at 4 a.m. the following morning. The skies were still dim as he departed for Atlanta, his last refueling stop before Miami. From Atlanta he wired Jessie to say that he would land in Miami by late afternoon.

Jessie and Clarke drove to Viking Airport, on the Venetian Causeway between Miami and Miami Beach, to pick Lancaster up. They arrived at 4:30 p.m., but the Robin had encountered strong headwinds, and Lancaster didn’t touch down until almost 7. As he taxied to the hangar, Jessie and Clarke strode across the tarmac to greet him. The mood was tense all around, but with airport workers lurking in the background, a forced politeness was in order.

“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Lancaster greeted Jessie, as he stepped down from the cockpit. He turned briefly to Clarke and delivered a tight-lipped, “Hello, old man.” As they headed to the car, Jessie thought Lancaster appeared weary, mournful, and ill.

The trio drove off in the Lincoln, stopping first to buy Clarke cigarettes. Lancaster handed him a five-dollar bill, telling him to keep the change. On Flagler Street they stopped at a market to buy cheap steak, again on Lancaster’s dime, before heading to a Laundromat to gather Clarke’s clothes. Clarke balked at the thought of Lancaster and Jessie enjoying even a moment of privacy in the car together. After talking it over, the three walked into the Laundromat as a group. Clarke pulled Jessie aside and said he was too embarrassed to let Lancaster pay for his wash, so Jessie handed him two dollars. “You pay for it; what’s mine is yours,” she told him. But in the meantime, Lancaster had paid the bill.

“I’m nearly dead for a drink,” Lancaster announced after they had returned to the car.

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