The only chance for the boy now was the plane, and Davy would have to fly it. There was no other chance, no other way. But now he had to think. He must not frighten the boy off. If he told Davy he would have to fly the plane, it would frighten him. He had to think carefully about how to do this; about how to think this into the boy" and persuade him to do it without knowing it. He had to feel his way into his son's frightened, childish mind. He looked closely at Davy then and he realised that it was a long time since he had really seen the boy.
He looks educated, Ben thought, and knew it was a strange idea. But his serious-faced boy was like him himself: a stern surface over something harder and wilder within. But the pale, rather square face did not look like a happy face, not now or ever, and when Davy saw his father look so closely at him he turned away and began to cry.
"Never mind, kid," Ben said slowly.
"Are you going to die?" Davy asked him.
"Do I look that bad?" Ben said without thinking about it.
"Yes," Davy said into his tears.
Ben knew that he had made a mistake, and he must never speak to the boy again without thinking carefully of what he was saying.
"Don't let all this blood and mess fool you. I have been smashed up like this before, two or three times. I don't think you remember when I was in hospital up in Saskatoon…"
Davy nodded. "I remember, but you were in hospital."
"Sure! Sure! That's right," he was trying to overcome his wish to faint of f again. "I'll tell you what we'll do. You get that big towel and put it near me and I'll roll on it somehow, and I'll get up to the plane. How about that, eh?"
"I won't be able to pull you up," the boy said, in defeat. "Ahhh," Ben said with a special gentleness. "You don't know what you can do until you try, kid. I suppose you're thirsty. There's no water, is there?"
"No, I'm not thirsty..." Davy had gone off to get the towel, and Ben said into the air with especial care:
"Next time we'll bring a dozen Coca-Cola. Ice too."
Davy brought the towel and lay it down near him, and by a sideways movement that seemed to tear his arm and chest and legs apart he got his back on to the towel and felt his heels dig into the sand, but he did not pass out.
"Now get me up to the plane," Ben said faintly.
"You pull, and I'll push with my heels. Never mind the bumps, just get me there!"
"How can you fly the plane?" Davy asked from in front of him.
Ben closed his eyes to think of how this boy felt. Ben was thinking, He must not know he has to fly it, the thought will frighten him terribly.
"These little Austers fly themselves," he said. "You just have to set the course, that's easy…"
"But you can't use your arms and hands. And you don't open your eyes."
"Don't give it a thought, Davy. I can fly blindfold with my knees. Start pulling!"
"How are you?" he said to the boy who was breathing heavily, all tired out. "You look all in."
"No, I'm not," Davy said angrily. "I'm all right."
That surprised Ben because he had never heard the tone of revolt or anger in his son's voice before; but still it must be there with a face like that. He wondered how a man could have lived with a son so long and never seenhis face clearly. The shock was wearing off. But he was physically too weak, and he could feel the blood gently flowing out of his left arm, and he couldn't raise a limb, even a finger (if he had one) to help himself. Davy would have to get the plane off and fly it, and land it.
It would be enough if he could survive long enough to talk this boy down with the plane" at Cairo. That would be absolutely enough. That was the only chance.
That thought was what helped him get into the plane. Then he was trying to tell the boy what to do, but he could not get it out. The boy was going to panic, Ben turned his head and felt it, and he said, "Did I bring up the camera, Davy? Or did I leave it on the bottom?"
"It's down near the water."
"Go and get it."
"It's going to be you, Davy. You will have to do it. So listen. Are the wheels clear?"
"Yes, I pulled all the stones away." Davy was sitting there with his teeth clenched.
"What's that shaking us?"
"The wind."
He had forgotten that. "Now this is what you do, Davy," he said, and thought it out slowly. "Give the throttle an inch, not too much. Do it now. Put your whole foot on the brakes, Davy. Good! You've done that! Now switch her on; the black switch on my side. That's fine, Davy. Now you have to push the button; and when the plane starts you open up the throttle a little."
"I can do it," the boy said, and Ben thought he heard the sharp note of his own voice in it, but not quite. "There's so much wind now," the boy said. "It's too strong and I don't like it."
"Are we facing into wind, Davy? Did you get us down wind? Don't be afraid of the wind."
He'll do it, though, Ben decided wearily and happily. Then he passed out into the depths he had tried to keep out of for the boy's sake. And even as he went out, deep, he thought he would be lucky this time if he came out of it at all. He was going too far. And the boy would be lucky if he came out of it. That was all he could think of before he lost contact with himself.
At three thousand feet on his own Davy did not think he could cry again in his lifetime. He had dried himself out of tears. He had boasted only once in his ten years that his father was a pilot. He had remembered everything his father had told him about this plane, and he guessed a lot more which his father had not told him.
It was clam and almost white up here. The sea was green. The desert was very dirty-looking with the high wind blowing a sheet of dust over it. In front the horizon was not clear any more, and the dust was coming up higher, but he could see the sea very clearly.
He understood maps. They were not difficult to understand. He knew where the chart was and he pulled it out of the door pocket and wondered what he must do at Suez. He knew that too. There was a toad to Cairo which went west across the desert. West would be easy. The road would be easy to see, and he would know Suez because that was where the sea ended and the canal began. There, you turned left.
He was afraid of his father, or he had been. But now he couldn't look at his father because he was asleep with his mouth open, and was horribly covered with blood and half-naked and tied up. He did not want his father to die; and he did not want his mother to die; or anyone; and yet that was what happened. People did die."
He did not like to be so high. It was unpleasant, and the plane moved so slowly over the earth. He had noticed that. But he would be afraid to go down into the wind again when he had to land. He did not know what he would do. He would not have control of the plane when it began to bump and lurch. He wouldn't keep it straight," and he wouldn't be able to level it off when it came near the ground.
His father might be dead. He looked and saw the quick breaths that came not very often. The tears that Davy thought had dried up in him were on the lower lids of his dark eyes and he felt them run over and come down his cheeks. He licked them in and watched the sea.
It was at the last inch from the ground that Davy lost his nerve at last; and he was lost in his own fears and in his own death, and he could not speak nor shout nor cry nor sob. He was trying to shout Now! Now! Now! but the fear was too great and in that last moment he felt the lift of the nose, and heard the hard roar of the engine still rotating and felt the bump as the plane hit the ground with its wheels, and the sickening rise and the long wait for the next touch-down; and then he left the touch- down on the tail and the wheels, the last inch of it. The plane turned as the wind threw it around in a ground circle, and when it stopped dead he heard the stillness.[...]
When they brought Davy in, it seemed to Ben that this was the same boy, with the same face he had discovered not long ago. What he had discovered was one thing. But the boy had probably not made any such discoveries about his father.
"Well, Davy?" he said shyly to the boy. "That was pretty good, wasn't it!""
Davy nodded. Ben knew he didn't think it pretty good at all; but some day he would. Some day the boy would understand how good it was. That was worth working on.
Ben smiled. Well, at least it was the truth. This would take time. It would t,ake all the time the boy had given him. But it seemed to Ben, looking at those pale eyes and non-American face, that it would be such valuable time. It would be time so valuably spent that nothing else would be so important. He would get to the boy. Sooner or later he would get to him. That last inch, which parted all things, was never easy to overcome, until you knew how. But knowing how'-' was the flyer's business, and at heart Ben remained a very good flyer.
NOTES:
waiting for the boy to be airsick – omvrpas
there were no feet to spare – 6xaїo oїeї
it's got to be – pozmїo
put on the heel brakes – samazr їa їo
to get sunstroke – їozyHHTh
will be glad to take a bite at you – OXOTHO noo6epam
Do you get that? – IIoHBTHO?
Ben was having trouble with the valve – Y Eesa naoxo
on sight – npe aepe (ex)
Git! Git! – IIposb! IIpows!
When he came to – Korpa oz npvmez a ce6s
he had been out – os 6brz 6e3 CO3HRHNfi
how to get to the boy – zaK HRATN IIOpXOp, K Mazasezy
from the waist up – ov nosca e sbrme
to think this into the boy – azymmї svo Maabїexy
to talk this boy down with the plane – pacvozmoaa
People did die. – Ho zmpї me yMrnpa
He wouldn't keep it straight – OH H
That was pretty good – 3vo 6bizo apopOB
knowing how – anavb, zax
Comprehension:
1) How old was Ben and what was his profession?
2) Why did Ben and his son Davy come to the Shark Bay?
3) What happened to Ben under the water?
4) Was he badly wounded?
5) Who was to fly the plane? Why? Did he manage to do it?
6) Describe Davy's feelings after the accident and during the flight.
7) What had Ben told Davy about the importance of the last inch during the landing? Did it help the boy not to give in when he was fighting for his and his father's life?
8) What can you say about the relations between Ben and his son? In what way have they changed?
9) Comment on the title of the story.
Дата добавления: 2015-09-29; просмотров: 32 | Нарушение авторских прав
| <== предыдущая лекция | | | следующая лекция ==> |