Love Story: In The Web of Life by Ken Renshaw (snow like ashes TXT) 📕

and varmints in their tunnels or dens. The second,a half stick of dynamite, was rigged to detonate two minutes afterthe smoke bomb. He laughed to himself as he set the smoke bombaltitude detonator to go off after the sailplane had gained twothousand feet above the airport. He used a marking pen to draw theSkeptemos symbol on the duct tape holding the bombstogether.

After turning off the light, he left the vanfor the sailplane trailer. Fortunately, an outside night-light on anearby hangar provided him with enough illumination to do his work.He put on surgical gloves to prevent fingerprints, and used the keyhe had made from a wax impression to unlock the trailer. He slowlyopened the trailer, reached in and removed the cockpit canopy.Watching pilots rig their sailplanes in Ogden had carefully plannedhis procedure. He gingerly placed the bombs behind and under thepilot's seat, in a place that wouldn't be discovered in assemblingthe airplane.

He removed the parachute and turned it overand, placed a locking pin in the ripcord to prevent it from beingpulled to open the parachute. The parachute was carefully replacedin the cockpit and the canopy was restored. He closed and lockedthe trailer and returned to his van.

Mr. S was jubilant as he drove away, laughingto himself about the cleverness of his plan. When the attorney tookhis next flight, being towed to altitude, the smoke bomb would gooff filling the cockpit with black, poisonous smoke. If the pilotcould open the canopy in time to not be overcome, he might try tofly the sailplane back to the field. The second bomb would kill thepilot if he tried that. If he managed to bail out, the parachutewouldn't open and the attorney would fall in terror to his death.He wanted to be there to observe his creation.

The next morning was a beautiful Sierra morningin Rocky Butte. I woke up at six and went down stairs in my runningsuit. Sofia was alone in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee andsitting in a chair with her legs pulled up under herbathrobe.

"It's cold," she said. "Pour yourself somecoffee while I make breakfast."

I poured a cup of coffee and then said, "Don'tbother with breakfast now, I am going for a run. How far is thelake?"

"About a mile. Go past the stables and turnright at the fork in the road." She went to the cupboard and tookout a canister of bear spray tucked in a little hoister on a belt."Here, take this with you, it's good for lots ofthings."

"Is there a bear problem here?"

"No, but you may never know what you might runinto around here. Had some rumors about Sasquatch."

"I know about him. Remember, I was raised in alogging town in Northern California. I understand he can be areally bad one."

I didn't think she had Sasquatch in mind, so Ididn't protest.

I had a pleasant run to the lake, taking iteasy to get used to the thin air at this altitude. It wasrefreshing to be among the tall trees, hear the wind in thebranches, smell the pines, and run on a carpet of dry needles. Itis very different from running in LA. I decided to rest and enjoythe view of the sparkling lake and the surrounding pine forest. Isat down on a soft bed of pine needles underneath a tree, shiftedmy weight to remove a small pinecone underneath me, leaned back onthe tree, and relaxed. I closed my eyes and was enjoying the sun onmy face when I heard an airplane. I looked up and saw a singleengine airplane a couple of thousand feet up, flying off to theEast. I closed my eyes again and listened to the fading enginenoise and relaxed, thinking I could easily nap. My minddrifted.

Then, I started to see pictures, in my mindseye, of biplanes circling, as if dog fighting, with the sounds ofmachine-guns and engines revving and slowing as the planes climbed,turned, and dove. I felt a sense of fear and intense concentration.I sensed I was flying a biplane and pursuing another airplanelaboring along, an observation plane, one with a pilot and amachine gunner. It didn't seem to maneuver to evade me.

I made one pass with my machine guns blaring,saw the pilot and gunner slump down, and saw the smoke begin topour from the engine. I circled to make sure it went down and thensaw the machine gunner emerge and start turning his gun in mydirection. His gun apparently jammed, and he was pounding on it. AsI closed in I saw that the gunner was a mere boy, with a look ofterror in his eyes. I couldn't fire my gun. As I passed by theplane, I could see the pilot's head slumped over the side of thecockpit. He also was a mere boy, and judging by his displayedaeronautical skills, someone who had only been trained to take offand land before being sent out on a reconnaissance mission. I wasfighting against children!

I moved away and watched the plane go down andcrash in flames. I realized that trying to win the Blue Max was notthe result of engaging in dogfights between chivalrous knights ofthe sky: it was awarded for murdering children.

I believe I dozed for a while, and then thevision came back. I was at an assembly of military personnel on theparade ground of the airfield, and the commandant was cutting offmy medals and insignia. I felt totally disgraced. Then, I sensedthat I later died in a trench as an ordinaryinfantryman.

I woke up and cried openly. I slowly walk backto the ranch house, assimilating what I had experienced travelingin space-time, wondering why I had been exposed to such dreadfulvision.

When I entered the kitchen, Sofia glanced atme, then looked at me carefully and said, "You OK? Did you reallyrun into Sasquatch?"

I replied, "I'm OK. I just recalled a terribletime when I lived in that logging town, when I discovered a deadbody in the woods." That really had happened: it was a passibleexplanation.

"I'll bring you your breakfast. Go into thedining room. Buster is there with Cody who drove your car up fromLA."

Buster introduced me to Cody who didn't looklike