“I guess marriage is important,” she answered thoughtfully, “everyone says it is. And I suppose it will be to me one day. I just can't imagine it right now. I'm not in a hurry. I'm glad I'm going to college first.” It was a reprieve for her, from her mother's plans for her. “I won't even have to think about it for four years, and by then who knows what will happen.”
“You could run away and join the circus,” he said, pretending to be helpful, and she laughed at him, lay back on the soft sand, and rested her head on one arm flung behind her. He had never seen anyone as beautiful, as he looked at her in the moonlight. He had to remind himself of how old he was, and that she was just a child. But she didn't look like one as she lay there, she was very much a woman. He looked away from her for a long moment, to regain his composure. Kate didn't have the remotest inkling of what was in his mind.
“I think I'd like being in the circus,” she said to the back of his head, as he observed the night sky. “When I was a little girl, I thought the costumes were terrific. And the horses. I always loved the horses. The lions and tigers scared me.”
“They scared me too. I only saw the circus once, in Minneapolis. I thought it was too noisy. And I hated the clowns, I didn't think they were funny.” It was so like him that it made her smile. She could imagine him as a serious little boy, overwhelmed by all the action. And the clowns had always seemed too obvious to her too. She preferred greater subtlety, as did he. As different as they were, they had a number of things in common. And always, just under the surface, that irresistible magnetic pull.
“I never liked the smells at the circus, but I think it would be fun to live with all those people. There would always be someone to talk to.” He laughed as she said it, and turned to look at her. It seemed so typical of the little he knew of her to like the people. It was one of the many things that drew him to her, her ease with people. He had never had that gift, and admired it in her. But to her it was natural and instinctive, an integral part of her.
“I can't think of anything worse. That's why I like flying so much. No one I have to talk to, as long as I stay in the air and off the ground. On the ground, someone always wants to tell me something, or have me tell them. It's exhausting.” There was actually a look of pain in his eyes as he said it. There were times when conversation was actually painful to him. He wondered if that trait was peculiar to pilots. He had taken several long flights with Charles, when they had literally not said a word to each other, and were comfortable with it. They had only spoken, finally, once they had landed and opened the door to the cockpit. It had been a perfect flight for both of them. But Joe couldn't imagine Kate sitting in silence for eight hours. “I find people very draining. They expect so much of you. They misunderstand what you say, they take your words and twist them. Somehow, they always make things complicated instead of simple.” It was an interesting insight into him.
“Is that how you like things, Joe?” she asked gently. “Quiet and simple?” He nodded in answer. He hated complications. And he knew that was what most people thrived on, but not he.
“I like things simple too,” she said, pondering what he had just explained to her. “But I'm not so sure about quiet. I like talking and people, and music… and noise sometimes. I hated my parents' house at times when I was a kid, because it was so quiet. They were older and pretty sedate, and I had no one to talk to. And it was as though they always expected me to be a grown-up, just shorter. I wanted to be a kid, and get dirty and make noise and break things and mess up my hair. Nothing was ever messy at our house. It was always so perfect. That's a lot to live up to.” He couldn't even imagine it. He had lived in utter chaos in his cousins' house, where everything was constantly a mess, the house was always dirty, and their kids were never cared for. When they were little they cried constantly, and when they were older, they argued, and were always loud. He hadn't been happy till he left. They were always telling him what was wrong with him, how much trouble he was, and threatening to send him to other cousins. He hadn't gotten attached to anyone, he had always been too afraid that they'd send him away anyway, so there was no point caring too much about them. And he had been that way ever since, with other men, and even with women, especially with women. He was happiest when he kept to himself.
“You have the life that everyone thinks they want, Kate. The trouble is they don't really know what it would be like if they had it. In some ways, I imagine it could be oppressive.” She had painted a picture of rigidity and perfection. But it was also a safe environment provided for her by people who loved her, and she knew that. But she was looking forward to going to college and getting away from them. She was ready. “What would you do if you had kids? What would be different?” It was an interesting question, and made her think for a minute.
“I think I'd love them a lot, and let them be who they are, not who I wanted them to be. I wouldn't want them to be me, just themselves. And I'd let them do more of what they wanted. Like you. If they wanted to fly, I'd let them. I wouldn't worry about how dangerous it is, or how crazy, or tell them it's inappropriate, and they had to do what I expected. I don't think parents should have the right to do that, to force people into molds just because it's what they did.” Clearly, she was longing for freedom. It was what he had wanted all his life too. There were no fetters strong enough to bind him. He would have broken any chain, any bond, anything that held him. He not only wanted, but needed his freedom, for his survival. It was something he knew he would never give up, for anyone, or anything.
“Maybe it was easier for me, not having parents.” He told her then about his parents dying in a car wreck when he was six months old, and going to live with his cousins.
“Were they nice to you?” she asked, looking sad for him. It didn't sound like a happy story, and it hadn't been.
“Not really. They used me to do the chores, and baby-sit for their kids. I was just another mouth to feed. And when the Depression hit, they were glad to see me leave. It made things easier for them. They never had any money.” And she had never known anything but luxury and security and comfort. The Depression hadn't touched her family financially, or her mother at least. Kate had never known anything but a safe, entirely protected existence. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Joe's life had been like. For him, flying meant freedom. She had never had that, or even longed for it. All she wanted was just a little more leeway than they gave her. She didn't have the same need for freedom he did.
“Do you want to have kids one day?” she asked him, wondering how that fit into the scheme of things for him, or if it was unimportant. He was old enough to have at least thought about it.
“I don't know. I never give it much thought, if any. Maybe not. I don't think I'd be much of a father. I'd never be there, I'm too busy flying. And kids need a father. I'd probably be happier if I didn't have kids. If I did, I'd always be thinking about what I didn't do for them, and feel bad about it.”
“Do you want to be married?” She was fascinated by him, she had never known anyone even remotely like him, or as honest. They had that in common. They spoke their minds and their hearts, with no fear of what other people would think of them. It was rare for him to open up, as he did with her, but he had nothing to hide and nothing to apologize for to her. He had left no debris in his wake, and had never hurt anyone, that he knew of. Even the one girl he had cared about, who had left him, hadn't done so in anger. She had left when she realized that he simply could not be there for her. There were other things that were more important to him, but he had never hidden that from her.