The Portal

Jonathon Blake signed the last document and placed it in the out tray, he looked at his watch, it was five o’clock, enough time left to visit the air strip and inspect his plane. He stood up and glanced at the calendar on his desk, the 11th March, in two days time he would be an old man of twenty seven years, with no plans to celebrate the occasion. With a wry smile, he moved to the door of his office, and as he reached to open it the phone on his desk rang. Wondering who the caller could be, he went back to the phone.

“Blake here.”

“Jonathon, I’m glad I caught you, Paul Henley.”

“What’s up, Paul?”

“I have a group of people who want to fly into the interior, I recommended you as one of the best pilots in the country and they would like to meet you.”

“Why do they want to do that, Paul? That’s a bit unusual, who are these people?”

“I know, Jonathon, but bear with me. They’re from England, two professors and two young women, their assistants.”

‘Ah, it’s got to be the women for Paul to be taking such interest’.

Paul continued, “They’re staying at the Pegasus, can you come over?”

“You’re in luck; I’m on my way to the airfield, I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

The hotel was situated off the Seawall and just out of the city of Georgetown.

“Good, meet me in the bar.”

Jonathon parked his car and entered the hotel. Paul sat alone at the bar.

Paul got off his stool and shook his hand. “Join me, what can I get you?”

“I’ll have a beer.”

Paul ordered the drink and Jonathon sat on a stool, they touched glasses, “Cheers.”

“So Paul, I’m here, what’s next?”

“Look, they’re nice people, but one of the professors is a funny old bean. The women are both darned good looking, but I wanted to ask if I can join you on the flight.”

‘True to form, he’s interested in one of the women, to be taking a day off from work.’

Henley was good looking in a rakish sort of way, dark brown hair combed straight back, brown eyes set wide in a symmetrical face and with an engaging smile. He had the reputation of being a ladies’ man with lots of girl friends, a real party type.

“You’re welcome to come along. You can be chaperon and relieve me of that burden.”

“Thanks, Jonathon, let’s go meet them.”

They stepped from the bar, past the reception desk through a door that led out to the swimming pool and approached a table under a large colorful umbrella, away from the deep end of the pool. On the other side of the pool, there were a few children splashing around in the shallow part, under the watchful eyes of grownups. At the table four people were sitting, one of the men stood up on seeing Henley.

“I’d like to introduce Jonathon Blake, the pilot I spoke to you about.”

The first woman put out her hand, “I’m Ruth Fuller.”

The other spoke, also extending her hand, “I’m Sarah Howard,”,

“I’m Professor Sheppard.”

The professor took the pipe from his mouth and extended his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blake.” He turned to the man sitting, “This is Professor Gordon Somerset-Smyth.”

Somerset-Smyth never looked up from the book he was reading, instead said, “Ask him how much he‘s charging us.”

On the surface the statement appeared natural, but for the disdainful manner in which it came over.

Paul’s face paled with a look of acute embarrassment. The two women were also embarrassed. Professor Sheppard stuck the pipe back into his mouth and sat down. No one knew where to go from here, but they were all waiting for a response from Blake.

There was a long pause as he looked at each of them and back to Henley, “Is this some sort of a joke?”

Turning around he headed for the door.

A voice called to him as he stepped out of the hotel, “Mr. Blake.”

Blake turned around surprised to see Sarah Howard approaching him,

“Can I have a word with you, Mr. Blake?”

“Of course, what can I do for you, Miss Howard?”

“Can we go someplace?”

“Let’s go into the bar.”

The place was still empty, with just two men chatting at the bar, while the bartender mixed drinks. They found a table against the wall. A waiter, now on duty, came to them.

“What would you like to drink, Miss Howard?”

“I’ll have a beer, thank you.” Blake ordered two.

Henley had said the women were beautiful, he didn’t see it. Sarah Howard wore no makeup, but her face was slightly tanned giving her a healthy appearance, she had on large, slightly tinted, horned rimmed glasses, and her hair was tied back. There was no question of a figure, for her dress was loose fitting.

“May I have a cigarette?” she asked him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t smoke.” He ordered a pack of cigarettes when the waiter brought their order. The cigarettes came and Slater opened the pack and lit one for her with the waiter’s lighter.

She inhaled and blew the smoke into the air. He waited patiently for her to speak.

“Mr. Blake, I wanted to apologize for Professor Somerset-Smyth, he has a great deal on his mind, a lecture in Paris in a week’s time. We only have a day or two left in which to fly into the interior.”

“Miss Howard you don’t have to apologize to me, it really doesn’t matter.” He wanted to say that he had met arrogant, rude, officious individuals like that, when he studied in England.

She nodded her head, “I understand from Mr. Henley you own the plane you fly, that’s quite an achievement.”

A smile appeared on his face, amused at her attempt to soften him up.

“ Why have you left it so late?”

“No fault of ours, I’m afraid. The professor wants to bring a group of scientists to visit the interior and we thought it prudent to speak to the authorities. For some odd reason they seemed reluctant to offer any information or cooperation. After a few days we were able to convince them that it was purely scientific.”

“There’s a lot of political tension in the country, which could explain their attitude.”

“So we gathered. Anyway, the discussions took a lot of time.” She could sense his continued reluctance.

She put out the cigarette and took a sip of her drink, took off her glasses and loosened her dark brown hair, which fell to her shoulders and across her forehead. Her eyes were hazel and her features were perfectly aligned, her lips like those usually found in ads advertising lipsticks, flawlessly shaped. Blake fought hard to avoid letting his mouth hang open. She was stunning. She had him and she knew it.

Trying his best to come down to earth he asked, “What does the professor do?”

“He’s an anthropologist and research scientist.”

“And you are his secretary?”

She smiled at that, pushing her hair back from her face, “No, I’m a student, but I do help him with his paper work. Ruth and I volunteered to come on the trip. We’re both students, studying for our masters. So, what’s it to be Mr. Blake?”

“What about the professor’s demand to know what I charge?”

“That was nonsense, you can forget it.”

Blake was finding it difficult not to keep staring at her lovely face, their eyes met and held.

“I’ll tell you what, Miss Howard. I’ll fly you and your party to the interior on one condition, that you have dinner with me when we return and then I’ll tell you all about my plane.”

She smiled, but with no hint of triumph, “Mr. Blake, I accept your invitation and look forward to it.”

“We’ll fly out in a day’s time, on Thursday, if everyone agrees.”

“Good, until Thursday.” She stood up and started to put on her glasses.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what.”

“Put back on those glasses, they hide your eyes, which are quite beautiful”

“My, my, Mr. Blake, you’re quite passionate.” She laughed, but kept the glasses in her hand, moving away with a hint of swaying hips under the loose dress.

The Ogle airfield which was situated about six miles out of town, catered for small planes which ferried passengers and cargo to the mines and ranches in the interior.

The twenty minute drive to the airfield saw the daylight fading and lights coming on. When he arrived there, the caretaker opened the gates for him. He parked his car and walked to the hanger where his plane was kept. The man followed him and switched on the lights.

“Your engineer, Mr. Roberts, left not too long ago.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, sir.”

Blake looked at the plane with great affection. It was a silver twin engine Piper Aztec with auxiliary tanks on its wing tips. He had given it the name, Betsy. He walked around the fuselage looking for oil leaks or anything out of the ordinary. He climbed into the cockpit, it had been cleaned. The instrument panel was bright and shiny. He looked over and under the six seats inspecting the lifejackets under them. He climbed out and opened the small luggage compartment in the side of the fuselage. In it he kept a first aid kit, a machete. In a plastic bag he had two shirts and a pair of jeans. Everything was strapped down leaving room for other goods. Satisfied, he thanked the caretaker.

When he got to his apartment, he took a beer from the refrigerator and sat in his small living room, thinking of the extraordinary Miss Howard. He knew that she had manipulated him, but good heavens, her beauty demanded she should get away with it. The phone rang interrupting his trend of thought. It was Henley calling.

“Blake, I see Miss Howard persuaded you to change your mind, she’s a real beauty, isn’t she?”

“Are you interested in her, Paul?”

“Hell no, Ruth’s my girl. When are we flying out?”

“I have to arrange a few things, I told her Thursday.”

“Good I’ll see you on Thursday. I’ll pick them up, what time do you want to leave?”

“Seven sharp, make sure you’re on time.”

As he hung up, the phone rang again, it was his mother.

“Jonathon, you didn’t call me all day.” She scolded.

“I’m sorry, mom, I was rather busy.”

“Too busy for your mother?” she said with humor.

“Come on, Mom, you know better than that.”

“We’re looking forward to seeing you on Thursday at about six, everyone will be here. I’ve baked a cake for you.”

His heart sunk, this was unexpected. “Mom, I’m flying into the interior with a small party. I don’t think I can make it, can we leave everything for Saturday?”

There was a long pause, “Well I suppose if you can’t make it, you can’t. There’ll be some disappointment, after all Thursday is your birthday. The kids were looking forward to seeing you. You know how they are with their uncle Johnny, the great pilot, referring to his brother’s son and sister’s daughter.

“I’ll make it up to them.”

“All right, Jonathon, Saturday it is, then. Have a good flight and be safe, I’ll say a prayer for you.”

“Thanks, mom, I love you.”

Calling it a night he went to bed to a restless sleep of mixed emotions, feeling guilty for disappointing his mother and excited at the prospect taking Miss Howard to dinner. What could he tell her about owning the plane? Long forgotten memories came back to him.

Jonathon Blake at twenty seven years was tall and handsome, in a rugged sort of way. He was born into a wealthy family who sent him to the best schools and never wanted for anything. He, however, was out of the ordinary. He was fiercely independent, which seemed to always remove him from his family and peers. As a little boy he could never be found. Bare feet, in torn clothes, he was off exploring with the children of his parents servants, to the absolute despair of his mother. He would eat out of bowls with his little friends in the one room dwellings, divided by cloth curtains. They didn’t understand him, but they adored him, and so did his Nannies. To his credit, his father sensed a difference in the boy’s character and refused to discipline him for these escapades. Instinct warned him that he would have been met with monumental opposition, had he tried to censure him. His father was right. Jonathon grew up, but remained a puzzle. There was always an air of mystery about him. This elemental quality was a tremendous magnet to members of the opposite sex.

His introduction to planes came at the age of sixteen. His uncle, who worked for the Shell Oil Company in Aruba, flew into Guiana with his own plane. He visited Blake’s home and invited him to see the airplane and go for a flight. His mother did her best to discourage the outing, but it was difficult to say no to the excitement she saw on his face. Along with Jonathon his uncle had also invited an attractive young woman- Jill. On seeing her, he was left gasping for breath. She was extremely well endowed, with a pretty face and breasts that jutted out of a tight sweater, with the outline of her nipples, clearly defined. Snug jeans traced her long legs to provocative hips, leaving him to wonder just how she negotiated all those curves into such a tight fit. Jonathon’s attention was torn between his fascination with the plane and the sensuality of Jill. In the end, his interest in the plane won out. He piled his uncle with many questions about flying.

The flight took them just below the clouds, circling over the city and along the coast line, with his uncle giving a running commentary. Jonathon enjoyed every minute of it, with the added excitement of Jill putting her soft breasts against his arm as she leaned over to see the city. In bed he made his decision; he would become a pilot and own his own plane. He fell asleep thinking of the warm glow he had felt, in the close confinement of the plane’s cabin, when Jill had leaned against him.

Determined, he concentrated on his studies, and sent off to England to complete his degree in business. He had made an agreement with his father to return and work in his father’s insurance company, after obtaining his pilot’s license. His objective was to buy his own plane. When his father died from a sudden heart attack, he flew to Miami and using his inheritance, bought the ‘Piper Aztec’.

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