Chapter 1 #3
Finally, she looked up, her eyes blazing in triumph and a huge smile on her face.
“It’s an invitation to fly in a cross-country air race.
From California to Ohio, to coincide with the National Air Races in Cleveland, sponsored by the National Exchange Club.
And here’s the kicker. It’s for women pilots only!
We’re all going to race to Clevland, Ohio!
” She grabbed the messenger’s clipboard, scrawled her signature, and shoved it back at the man.
“You tell your boss I’ll be there. And I plan to win, too.
You can all read about it in the papers. ”
The messenger frowned. Opened his mouth. Closed it.
“Spit it out, man,” Pancho urged him.
“I do not approve of women flying airplanes.”
Pancho took another puff from her cigar and pointedly blew the smoke just past his face, squared her shoulders, and jutted her chin defiantly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tay glimpsed the stunt pilots elbowing one another and trading grins as if the show were about to begin. Maybe he was going to witness one of Pancho’s famous put-downs after all.
“This here,” Pancho waved the letter, “is a personal invitation from Mrs. Elizabeth Lippincott McQueen, founder of the Women’s International Association of Aeronautics, to an air race for the best women pilots in the world.
It’s an honor just to be invited. Seems only polite for me to accept, don’t you agree? ”
Tay heard the dangerous edge in Pancho’s voice, but apparently, the messenger didn’t, for he drew himself up indignantly and declared angrily, “No. I do not agree with you,” as his eyes swept over her male attire.
“A respectable woman is only mentioned in the newspaper twice in her whole life.” He held up two fingers, all but poking Pancho in the chest with them. “At her marriage and her death.”
Pancho rolled her eyes. “Whatever shall I do? I’ve already used up my allotment of two newspaper appearances, then.
First, on my wedding,” she said as her gaze narrowed dangerously, “and second, when I broke the world altitude record for women last year. What’s my poor family going to do when I die and they can’t put my obituary in the newspaper, according to your rules? Why, it’ll be a scandal!”
The other pilots snickered as the messenger’s face reddened.
Pancho continued, implacably now. “I plan to do a whole lot more flying and break a whole lot more records before I leave this life. And I most certainly plan on being in the newspapers plenty more times before then. Listen up, bucko,” she said, waving her cigar in the messenger’s face, “aviation is the future of this country. America is the best in the world at coming up with new inventions and building them, and I aim to be part of that. Bet you don’t mind being the first generation in your family to drive a car, do you?
Cars were the next step past horses and buggies, and airplanes are the next step past cars.
They can move people and mail across the entire country in just three days.
Medicine, too. Planes are four times faster than trains, we can go anywhere there’s a big flat field, and we don’t need rails. ”
“But you’re a woman,” the man blurted out. “Women belong at home, not out and about the countryside gallivanting like . . . like . . . hoydens.”
Pancho’s expression tightened. It clearly wasn’t the first time she’d heard that.
She threw her cigar on the ground and stepped on it, grinding out the embers.
“I’ve heard about all I care to out of you, mister.
You’re fixin’ to make me madder than the devil discovering himself invited to a baptism.
I bet if your child was sick, it wouldn’t much matter who flew the plane in with medicine.
” She turned her back and stomped away from the red-faced man.
Tay kept pace with her as she headed back to her plane and ventured to say, “Uh, Pancho? I really do need you to finish this picture.”
She frowned. “Mrs. McQueen invited me to go to Cleveland and be on the race committee. Represent the pilots who’ll be flying in the race.”
“Two weeks,” he replied quickly. “Give me two weeks to wrap up shooting. Please. I’ve got a lot of my own money invested in this picture.”
“Of course,” Pancho replied firmly. “I keep my promises. Besides, the air race isn’t for another three months.”
He brightened up. “In that case, I’ll have my secretary draft an acceptance letter for you and mail it.”
Pancho tucked the letter inside her jacket. “I’ll handle that myself. Thanks all the same. A lady always pens a personal acceptance to invitations she receives.” She looked up at the mechanic, whose head was buried in the maze of pistons, manifolds, and unidentified engine parts. “How’s it going?”
The mechanic straightened and looked down at her. “You called it right. Clogged fuel line. Looks like mud from all the dust you picked up flying so low. I’ll have it fixed within the hour.”
Pancho nodded. “Better replace the air filter, too. Let me know when she’s ready to go.
I want to get back to Clover Field before sunset.
It’s a bear to find in the dark after they turn the runway lights off.
” She turned to face Tay and said, “You can bring your movie star over here for those ground shots of him pretending to be me while Tim’s fixing my plane. ”
Tay looked around at the scenery. The cameraman would have to cut out the farmer’s field from the bottom of the frame so it appeared they were at an airport, but it would work.
He whistled and gestured for his assistant to join him.
When the kid had hoofed it to his side, Tay instructed him to fetch the crew and the lead actor, William Boyd.
Handsome and lean, he was a big box-office draw .
. . and about to be a bigger one after this film.
Boyd stepped out from under a big umbrella, dressed identically to Pancho. Which had been a bone of contention with Boyd when he found out he was supposed to dress like Pancho, and not the other way around.
As the actor sauntered their way, Pancho informed Tay sotto voce, “He doesn’t look as good as I do in my jodhpurs.”
He snorted with laughter as she strolled off to light another cigar.
Pancho looked at her invitation again, and he caught the tiny smile on her face.
Women racing airplanes all the way across the country. Who’d have thunk it? Never thought he’d see the like in his lifetime. But then, he was making a talkie. When he got into the film business, he’d never thought he’d see that day come, either.
It had to be a dream come true for Pancho and women pilots like her.
A sign of the changing times. It would definitely make big headlines.
He made a mental note to talk to the studio about having Pancho promote his movie while she did press interviews for the air race.
Lord knew, Pancho would end up front and center in the coverage of the race.
Not only did she have a flamboyant personality the public would eat up like candy, but she was one of the top pilots in the world, male or female.
He had a feeling that, like it or not, she was going to force folks to rethink their views on women.
He had no doubt Pancho would lead the charge of brave female aviators determined to write themselves into the history of aviation.
Hmm. What were the odds he could talk the studio into doing a movie about her? Maybe centered on the upcoming race. The public might not be ready for a movie about women pilots today, but after the race?
That could be another story . . .