I'd never seen him so energetic. He practically bounded up the steps, his hair ruffled, and his eyes aglow. How I remember that glow! I'm convinced now that it was full of malicious intent. I was hustled to the car. I should have known the minute Fred left me to open the door myself that something, was difinitely wrong. I should have marched directly back to the house and forgotten Fre entirely. But I didn't. I sat beside him quietly while we were on our way to the airport, listening to involved descriptions of how the stick works, and which rudder pedals to push to make the plane turn. I got suspicious about half way there, but it wasn't until we were pulling into a parking place by a row of small planes that I was positive my suspicions were correct "Fred," I said, as calmly as I could, "who's going to fly the plane?" He looked at me, very surprised (practically innocent, the fiend), "Why, I am, of course. Didn't I tell you that? Oh, yes, I'm a pilot. Was during the war. Don't worry. I know all there is to know about this business." I was afraid of that. Here I had thought he was such a nice, quiet person, and now I found out he was a pilot! What to do! Oh, what to do! I tried to back out, but I only had a chance to say his name before he handed me a pack of some sort. "What's this?" I had to hold it in both arms it was so heavy. "A parachute. Regulations. You have to wear it when you're flying." I can't possibly tell you the horror I felt when he said that, but that wasn't the worst of it. He helped me put it on, which was so embarrassing that I almost died! It was almost too uncomfortable to wear. He still hadn't stopped talking and dragging me around. I didn't have a chance to tell him that I'd changed my mind before I found myself sitting in the back seat of a double-winged gray plane - a Steerman I think he called it. You know these planes today, with the cabins for the pilots and all? Well, this plane was completely open! The cockpit wasn't covered at all. All I had was a seat belt, which looked kind of flimsy. He had started up the motor when I realized that he was really going to go through with it! I forgot my quiet upbringing. I practically screamed his name! I was afraid he wouldn't hear me because the motor was making such an awful roar. He did though and turned back to me, smiling and waving his hand. "Don't worry! I'll give you hand signals to let you know what I'm going to do!" With that ominous warning, he disappeared then into smoke and the motor got louder and louder. The plane began to move slowly down a long stretch of road. Then it went faster and started shimmying back and forth. I had to close my eyes the wind was blowing past so hard. I clung to the edges of the cockpit until we finally lifted off the ground, leaving behind my hair ribbon which had been ripped right off my head. For a little while I enjoyed it. It was still noisy because of the engine, but smooth riding. I even smiled and waved at Fred when he looked back to see if I was okay. He looked very happy and turned back and did something to the controls. The plane turned sharply to 14 the left and I fell against the side of the cockpit and stared at the ground. I looked at Fred (as well as I could with my head hanging over the edge!) just in time to see him swing his arm around in a big circle. The first rush of panic overcame me. Then we began to go up - straight up! I was pushed back into my seat, my heart pounding until I could scarecly breath. I knew I'd never be able to pry my fingers off the sides of the cockpit. I didn't want to let Fred know I was afraid, so I remained quiet. "I can take it," I said to myself grimly, swallowing my heart. "He Wouldn't do anything to hurt me." We kept going up and then, oh God, Betty, I'll never forget this! We went so far up that we were flying upside down! I was hanging by that seat belt, absolutely stunned. I couldn't scream, couldn't move! My panic was building up even more. It was a circle we did all right. Clear around Until we were flying right side up again. Then we went into all kinds of loop-de-loops and sharp turns. I was slowly getting frantic. I knew I couldn't take much more. My teeth were clenched and my knuckles were completely bloodless. Fred stuck out his hand and twisted it around. I didn't know what he meant by that. I found out later that he meant he was going to do a snap roll. I don't care what it's called, it is terrible! The plane just rolled over and over. I changed from sitting to hanging and back. The earth kept dashing by until I thouht I'd go mad. The motor got noisier and noisier, and my stomach began doing flip-flops. It was horrible! My panic finally broke Out of control and I screamed at Fred that I wanted to go down, immediately! He nodded assent and straightened the plane out. I sobbed my relief. Then the plane started to go up again. I held my breath in terror and apprehension. What was he going to do now! We kept going up until the stalled. Oh, Betty, I could never describe to you that awful moment. There was deathly silence while the plane hung suspended in the air. Then the nose dropped and we were? going down. The wind got stronger and stronger. I was jammed against the back of the seat. The plane started to spin and I lost complete control. I let out one long screech and closed my eyes, moaning and praying. Fred said later that I had exausted my vocal powers for the moment so I just sat numbly waiting for the end. Fred managed to pull the nose up before we splattered all over, the airport, and made his landing approach. Fred leaped out and came to help me out of the plane. I stepped out onto the wing and collapsed. My legs just would not hold me up. Then, to top it all off, I got sick. Fred was very anxious, although now that I think about it, he was more concerned about his stupid plane than me. He carried me out to the car and drove me home. I knew all the neighbors would be watching at their windows, just waiting for him to kiss me or something like that, that would give them something to talk about for years. I tried to get out of the car on my own, but Fred 15