30
Earl Shaw’s Flying Circus
San Rafael, California * September 29, 1940
Finally, toward the end of September, the barnstorming group moved closer than ever to San Francisco when they planned to perform throughout a series of little towns in Marin County—Fairfax, San Anselmo, and Larkspur. While preparing to put on a show in the little town of San Rafael, Harry had gotten so accustomed to the car-to-plane transfer he was yearning for a new thrill.
“What if . . . what if I got back into the car?” he asked the others.
“You mean do a transfer to the plane and then eventually climb down to the car?” Hutch asked.
“Sure,” Harry replied. “It could be my entry and my exit from the stage, so to speak.” He paused and looked around at Hutch, Buzz, and Louis. Ava was only a short distance away, gathering dry weeds near their campsite for kindling, but she knew he was avoiding her glare. He already knew she hated everything to do with the car-to-plane transfer. It was a terrible, harebrained idea, she’d told him. Too dangerous.
Buzz shook his head and chuckled. “Well, in order to reverse the transfer, Hutch and I would have to sync up again, and I’d have to drive real careful-like . . .”
“Can you do it?” Harry demanded.
Buzz whistled and shrugged. “I can try. When do you want to take a swipe at it?”
“Today,” Harry replied.
“During today’s show? After we’ve drawn a crowd? What if it goes pear-shaped?” Louis said, dismayed. “You don’t even want to practice it first?”
Harry shook his head. “Let’s do it!” he insisted. “Why hide what we’re up to from the audience? Let’s tell ’em this is the first time we ever tried this one. They’ll get a kick outta it! It’d be something unique!”
Ava was annoyed by Harry’s cocky nonchalance. Of course, when Harry proposed his plan to Earl, Earl was thrilled and unequivocally all for it. They had come nearly full circle to the first bargain Harry had made with Ava’s stepfather, the day he proclaimed he would wing walk, given the chance.
It was September in San Rafael, and therefore still warm, dry, and sunny, but Ava found herself even sweatier than one might expect as she watched the boys’ barnstorming show that day. She knew she was holding her breath for the finale, when Harry was planning to climb back down the trailing rope ladder and into the open bed of the Model A. She had visions of him missing the truck and dropping onto the open field from a fast-moving airplane, only to break his legs.
Earl shouted his proud announcements to an only slightly less breathless audience: “I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, this is the first time our stuntman has ever performed such a feat! Will it spell disaster? Or daring delight? Let us watch, and find out . . . !”
Ava shielded her eyes, chewed her lip, and scrutinized the sky as Hutch swept in low over the Model A. The biplane was going much faster than the truck at first; Buzz jammed on the accelerator as he tried to keep pace. Ava winced to hear the roar of the engine. She knew the truck was an unreliable relic, hardly fit for Harry’s stunt. Yet, with Buzz’s determined handling, the Model A gave a hiccup and a spurt of sudden speed and shot forward.
Harry quickly crawled down to the bottom rung of the ladder, his weight making the whole thing flap more slowly but heavily, moving in deep waves through the air. Ava couldn’t watch; she squeezed her eyes shut. A moment passed, and she opened them just in time to see Harry release the ladder. He leapt from where he gripped the rope, and plop!—he landed in the moving truck bed. Everyone in the audience cheered.
“Aaaaaaand the daredevil lives to tell the tale, ladies and gentlemen!” Earl cried. “Let’s hear a round of applause for our brave stuntman!”
The cheering swelled to a crescendo.
“He dared to spit in the face of certain death, folks! Surely the least you can do is dare yourself to go up for a lovely, pleasant, scenic ride! That’s right! Get all the satisfaction of a thrill, with none of the danger! Safest ride in town! Step right up, and give your money to Lovely Lofty Ava there! She’ll get you on your way . . . !”
Ava sighed a huge breath of relief. She still found it annoying, however, that Harry was so utterly compelled to put his life on the line like that. She was grateful for Buzz’s determined driving.
She had just made a mental note to remind Harry of his good luck in having Hutch for a pilot and Buzz for a driver, when Ava noticed a man in a dark suit approach Earl. The man stood out among all the other people gathered in the field due to that suit, which was much too dark and heavy for a hot Indian summer’s day. Ava scanned the crowd and saw that a second man in a dark suit was not far behind. She squinted her eyes to watch and strained her ears to listen.
“You the owner of that biplane?” the first man demanded of Earl. He pointed in the sky, declining to introduce himself.
Earl wheeled about and looked the man over, clearly startled by the man’s formal suit. “Begging your pardon, sir—who wants to know?”
“The United States Department of Commerce,” the second man replied, catching up to his partner and chiming in. “I assume you know your pilot is in violation of safety regulations, flying low like that, and performing stunts over a crowd?”
“We also need to see your licenses and your permit for public assembly,” the first man added.
Ava watched this exchange and read the truth in Earl’s frown. She continued to strain to listen in on Earl’s conversation but moved more slowly now, knowing she was selling rides that would never be given.
Earl had made a fatal mistake when he ignored Hutch’s warning. He had gambled again; they all had, really. But more important: They had lost.