The Firebird Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

June skipped down the busy New York street.

“Hey, pretty lady!” The grocer raised his hand. “You happy about something?”

“Just got my first job as an airship pilot!” June continued to skip. When she reached her destination, she stopped, and looked almost straight up.

Her father, Duke Marigold, owned a company that controlled half the vineyards in the States. The building, Marigold Tower, stood as one of the centerpieces of the New York skyline. Her father’s office was on the top floor with a panoramic view.

June took the elevator to her father’s office. She walked across plush carpeting in the hallway and came to an ornate mahogany door. She knocked.

“Yes?” Her father’s voice was deep and commanding.

“It’s me, father.”

“Enter.”

June pushed open the doors and came into her father’s office. She held her hands behind her back in a proper pose. “Father.”

“Yes?” June’s father held a steadfast presence. His mustache was neatly trimmed and his beard cropped to form a staunch figure. He was muscular, to the point where his biceps bulged against his suit.

June cleared her throat. “Father. I’ve found a job as an airship pilot.”

June’s father looked up over his glasses. “You …” He looked away. “Your mother told me to keep you safe. I don’t know if she meant let you go on a dangerous adventure.”

“Who said it would be dangerous?”

June’s father sighed. “I cannot control you now that you are an adult, June. But I only wish that I not lose you as I did your mother.”

June stood on her tiptoes and kissed her dad’s cheek. “I’ll be safe, father.”

June’s father waved his hand. “Please. Leave me. I have much work to do. If you truly wish to do this, then I shall not stop you.”

June twirled around and left the office. On her way to the elevator she popped her head into the secretary’s office. “Hey Liz.”

Liz waved her arm in June’s general direction, and continued typing. “Sure, sure.”

June smiled and continued down the hallway to where the elevator was hosted. When she stepped in the elevator operator bowed.

“James!” June tapped her feet together. “I’m going to be an airship pilot.”

James nodded once. “A grand thing, Ms. Marigold.”

June held her hands behind her back as the elevator descended. When she finally exited the building, she took in a deep breath and headed to the airship docks. She passed through several alleyways and finally found herself in a dirty, little-traveled section of the airship docks. Exposed pipes hissed steam overhead. Barrels of fuel sat alongside the solid concrete walls. Rats darted in and out of cracks. The whole place smelled of sea water and diesel.

A lone airship hung above the single working dock spire. June climbed the spire and entered the airship. She stood before the control panel and cracked her knuckles.

“Okay. Turn on the tertifibulator. Engage axionic rudders. Twenty degrees point north.”

In her head, she saw herself soaring over the city, able to see the individual people like ants on the streets. In reality she was stuck on a non-functioning junk ship that was falling apart at the seams. But she didn’t care. It was good enough for her.

Tomorrow she was going to fly a real airship! She had been preparing for this moment for years. No one had taught her. She had found a pilot’s textbook in her father’s library and read through it enough times to wear out the seams. The first time she had ever been in the air behind the wheel was during her test—and she had just barely passed it. But she wasn’t going to tell that to anyone else. She wanted to be an airship pilot and she was going to become one. She imagined herself soaring over the Atlantic ocean, the waves beneath her, the smell of the salt in her nostrils. Fighting pirates, shooting cannons, flying like a gull.

And then she came back down to Earth and realized where she was. Sighing, she slid down to a sitting position and then rested her head on the cold floorboards beneath the control room.

“Welp. Here I go.”

###

“Dock twenty-seven,” said August, giving Dex his business card. “Be there tomorrow by ten am.”

Dex bobbed his head up and down. “Yes, yes. I’ll be there.”

August had expected Dex to give him a harder time about joining his crew. But in the end all he had to do was ask. It appeared this man Dex had been looking for an opportunity this whole time. Things were beginning to come together. Now all August had to do was get the blessing of his old mentor. He walked to the nearest phone booth and dialed his number.

“James Yuseph, who is this?” The voice behind the phone was deep, rough, and full of character.

“Hey, Captain.” August scratched his chin. “I need some help.”

“Then come by my place for some tea later this evening. I won’t hear no. We’ll talk then.” Captain Yuseph hung up.

August sighed. Yuseph was never one for the newer technologies like telephones and such. August sighed again, left the phone booth, and took the electric streetcar down to Linely Street Way, a new development in the lower part of the island. The air was a bit fresher on that side of the city. August found the building he was looking for and entered through the open front end. The building was just a normal apartment block that appeared to have been built recently.

August walked up to the third floor and knocked on room 305. There was a bit of a commotion on the other side and the door opened to reveal a grizzled old man with a large white beard. His eyes lit up and he swung the door all the way open.

“August! Come in, come in! I’ve got some tea on the pot for you!”

The man, James Yuseph, was an old acquaintance of August’s who had helped August acquire his first zeppelin. He had traveled across the world and was a first rate zeppelin pilot to boot. Though, he hadn’t been behind the panel for several years.

August stepped into a homely apartment decorated tastefully though in a bit of an outdated fashion. The room smelled of pipe tobacco and laundry cleaner. A single large wooden table took up most of the living area, while a couch sat next to a large radio set. Yuseph’s wife was sitting on the couch doing embroidery. She looked up as August entered and nodded.

Yuseph clattered about in the kitchen and brough out two cups of tea. He offered one to August.

August took the tea and sipped. “This is good.”

“Yes. It’s Marigold special.”

“I thought they only did wine?”

“They’ve recently branched.” Yuseph sat down. “In any case, what’s the matter? I know you called me for a reason.”

August set down his tea cup. “I’m gathering a crew to look for the mystery behind the Hindenburg.”

Yuseph frowned. “I would advise against it. There’s something sinister about this mystery. I don’t condone it.”

“I was going to ask you to come with me.” August leaned forwards.

Yuseph sat back in his chair. “You realize what you’re saying.”

“I do.”

Yuseph took a cigar out of the humidor on the table, cutting it and lighting it. “And I suppose you were going to ask me to come with you.”

August said nothing.

“Did you find a pilot?”

“I think I did.” August thought back on his interaction with June. “She’s a bit new but I think she’ll be fine.”

“Back in Spain I had a quick pilot who got us out of a lot of trouble. Who you chose to be your pilot will have a lot of influence on how well you deal with dangerous circumstances.”

August shook his head. “I trust her.”

Yuseph puffed his cigar. “Good. I’ll tell you what. If you manage to gather a full crew for that small ship of yours I will consider joining you.”

“Really?” August’s face lit up.

Yuseph puffed his cigar again. “I have a recommendation for you. The son of an old friend of mine. His name is Stephen. If you can convince him, then you’ll have a chance of convincing me.”

“Where does this Stephen live?”

“First off let me warn you. Stephen is an odd kid. It may put you off to be near him for a while.” Yuseph puffed his cigar. “But that’s my challenge to you.”

August rubbed his temples. “Okay. So I get this Steve person on board and you’re with me?”

“Exactly.” Yuseph flicked his cigar. “I said Steve was odd, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable.”

August sighed. “Sure. Tell me where he lives and I’ll go talk to him.”

Yuseph stood up. He went to the countertop of the kitchen and wrote something down. He returned to the sitting area and handed August the paper. “This is where Steve lives. Be careful around his mother, she’s really the violent type.”

“I see.” August took the piece of paper. “I’ll be off.”

“Do you have time to listen to some stories?”

August shook his head. “Sorry, I’m really in a hurry to get going.”

“Hurriedness is the path to doing things carelessly. However, I won’t begrudge you. Go on and have an adventure.”

“Hopefully you’re coming with me.”

Yuseph sighed. “Perhaps.”

August nodded at Ms. Yuseph and left the apartment. The address Yuseph had given him was on the other side of the city. August took the subway to the district and, when he got off, the smell of fish hit him in the nose. Steve lived in the fishmonger’s quarters, and as such, everything smelled like, well, fish.

August walked through a busy fish market until he came to a dilapidated building on a little-traveled street. Only a couple of hoodlums could be seen out in the open, giving August the stink eye.

August entered the building and climbed the stairs to the room Yuseph had given him the address of. Room 503. August knocked.

The door opened and a brusque woman of about fifty opened the door. Her eyes told August that she wasn’t exactly in her right mind at the moment.

“I’m looking for a man named Stephen.”

The woman turned her head and looked back into the room. With an incredible intensity, she yelled: “Steve! Get your lazy rump in here! Someone wants to see you! What the bridges did you get into this time? I’m going to whup your sorry behind!”

Through the crack in the door, August could see a stooped man trot to the entrance, his head hanging down.

“Eh—Eh hello, sir, what—what do you want?”

“Are you Steve?”

“Eh—yes, that is me.” Steve’s voice was halting, stuttering, as if he wasn’t sure about what he was saying.

“You stupid sod.” The woman, who August assumed was Steve’s mother, slapped the poor boy. “That’s not how you greet a guest.” The mother glared at August. “What do you want?”

“I’m here with a proposition.” August tried opening the door more. Steve’s mother resisted.

“If you read the sign you know we don’t do any of that religious junk.”

“I’m here to ask Steve to join an airship crew.”

“Steve? You must be kidding me. The bloke doesn’t even know how to count to ten. You can’t possibly want him to work for you.”

“I’ll leave it to my own impression. May I come in?”

Steve’s mother looked hesitant, but then grimaced and let August all the way into the house.

The house was a mess. It looked like the mother was a hoarder, and every available space was filled with junk. How does one live in conditions like this? August picked his way through the only spaces he could find until he found a chair. He sat down.

Steve’s mother slapped him. “Aren’t you going to prepare tea for the guest?”

“Yes, yes mother.” Steve’s eyes caught on something August was wearing. “Is that—is that a Belier five pin? From the series Phono created by Rachel Godstein?”

“Why yes, yes it is.”

“What in the blazes are you babbling about?” Steve’s mother slapped Steve again.

“S—Sorry.” Steve bowed his head as he prepared tea in the nightmare of a kitchen.

“You’re right.” August touched the small broach that he always wore on his right coat lapel. “You’re the first person to recognize it.”

“I—I remember things. I once saw a booth with that pin for sale. When I was eight.”

August blinked. There’s something about him. Yuseph was right. He is an interesting man. August did his best to stay comfortable in the mess of a room. “Well then.” He leaned forward. “Let me explain to you my proposition.”