The werewolf's sunshine

Chapter 1

It was almost Twelve PM. I was taking a week’s vacation from my job and doing the 'airport bum' bit. You know, hanging around the FBO, getting in the way and sitting on the bench in front of the office with the other workers critiquing landings and takeoffs. We were also crouching to have better looks at planes that were taking off.

Just having a regular good time. I owned a beautiful Cessna 172 which I kept at the Aviation Facilities Inc. (AFI) Fullerton, California FBO and spent a lot of time washing and waxing my 'pride and joy'.

The owner of the FBO, Damian Ross whose nickname is Captain and Sophie Saldana, his co-worker who had this inexplicable aura and expression on her face walked up to me. And I just had a feeling that my little 'happy hour' was over.

"Marcus Garvey?", Captain called out to me and I couldn't help but notice the southern accent rolling off effortlessly from his tongue. "Yes Captain?", I replied not having a clue what this was about. "We need to speak to you privately". Great.

You know that feeling when you stand on the edge of a cliff and can't find the urge to jump? That's what l felt like now, except instead of a cliff, I stood on the threshold of the cockpit I had occupied a few months ago. Beads of sweat trickled down my head, my legs ached from crouching with the workers for so long; I swallowed the dryness in my throat. It took about three months, but we were able to retrace my steps and find this wretched place.

"Is this it?" Captain asked me anxiously.

I nodded not trusting my voice to speak. I came with them this far, I had even planned to go inside the flight deck with them; but now that I'm here, I don't know if I can. What if I have intense, disturbing thoughts and feelings related to my former experience that seems to linger, even after the traumatic event ended a long time ago? What if I relive the event through flashbacks and nightmares? What happens when the fear, sadness and anger that I had to get rid of through several sessions with my therapist? My mental health means so much to me, what will I do? I excessively wiped my shaking and sweaty palms over my jeans.

"Marcus?" Sophie asked beside me. I closed my eyes fighting back the negative thoughts. "Are you okay?"

Pull yourself together Marcus! You can do this! And I could. To my relief, I shook it off. "Hey," she rested her hand on my arm. "You don't have to". I looked up to meet her enigmatic, dark gaze, "It's fine Sophie, I was bound to do this someday anyway".

"Alright then", she gently patted my shoulders and stepped out of the way in.

I went in only to see that the cockpit wasn't as bad as I had imagined it to be. My therapist really did a number on me. I didn't feel a thing and I was ready to fly again. The captain heaved a heavy sigh, grinning through his grimace.

"See? It's not so bad after all". He offered, to cut through the deafening silence in the plane, which I understood. The atmosphere was becoming awkward, but I least I didn't have a problem flying this plane for a second time. I looked up at the Captain for further instructions, and he readily dished them out.

"So here's the thing, I'm having a problem with an airplane that a renter pilot flew to Sacramento. The renter pilot left it there because he couldn’t get the starter to work for the return flight. And yes, I know it seems like the FBO would have to send a pilot or a mechanic to Sacramento, but we really have no one to spare right now. There's no one to do it for us"

He paused to read the expression on my face before continuing.

"We'd like you to help us out please. The only problem would probably be only a stuck starter which you could break loose with the insertion of a large screwdriver. We would also pay for the airline ticket to Sacramento and you can fly the plane back to Fullerton at no charge".

Now he focused fully on me to get my reaction and answer to his request. Everything sounded great to me. It didn’t dawn on me that this job might be a little more complicated than previously explained.

Sophie looked up. For the first time, her expression morphed from her regular blank, enigmatic appearance, to genuine concern.

"Marcus you really don't have to do it if you don't want to". Captain gawked at me for a tantalizing moment later, then shook his head.

We walked out of the plane, to Captain's office. He sat on his chair and looked up at me with finality. And I already made up my mind. I wanted to fly the plane, maybe I was truly over my fear. Plus, this airplane was a very nice Mooney (M20E), tail number 9215V, and I’m sure that anyone would tell you that a guy would do about anything to get free flying in that baby.

"I'd be incredibly happy to help Sir", I said half-enthusiastically.

Captain perked up. He stared at me as if he had just passed the most brazen round of wind in Fullerton. He held his pen in his hand ready to do paperwork.

"Alright then. Let's get into it", he said professionally. Classic call.Sophie looked at me disapprovingly. I know she had my best interest at heart, but I really don't mind flying this thing.

The captain, at least, seemed to beleaguered to care. His long golden ponytail was lank with sweat. His greyish-green coat was bundled up and wedged to his chair to cushion his spine. With one hand, he propped up his heavy head. With the other, he jotted down the time and date in an enormous ledger-like book.

Oh God. I really hope I don't regret this.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Oh no. It's my first day of work. After a while of looking for a job and I'm gainfully employed. Finally, I'm gainfully employed!

With this thought in mind, I force my eyes open only to be welcomed by never-ending rays of sunlight. Meaning I must have forgotten to close my curtains last night, great.

Begrudgingly I lift my sheets off of me and place my feet on my carpeted floor, and put on my bifocal spectacles. You can do this Marc, go shine in that airport.

"Marcus? Breakfast's ready honey, come on now", my mother calls. "Coming", I reply, groggily making my way to the kitchen. "What's for breakfast?", I asked sitting opposite my mom who was beaming with smiles as always.

If you haven't noticed, my mom, Caroline Garvey, is your typical down-to-earthly kind of mother, clingy, but in a totally healthy way. She decided she'd stay with me at my house for a bit, helping me with chores and cooking for me, of course I was reluctant at first. I didn't want my mom invading my privacy. I'm a 35 year-old grown man who lives alone in the suburbs of California, in Fullerton, no wife, no girlfriend and no job, well before. I needed time and space to myself to think of my next moves; I didn't want my mom all up in my business.

However, when I eventually got a job, I decided to take her up on the offer. I'd always be out and working, so I won't mind her being in the house. Besides, she lives alone, so I could understand why she wanted the feel of another person. My dad died in an accident a few years back and ever since, she's been alone and shrouded from the world in her own way. So being the only child, she wanted to come stay with me. Plus, she won't be staying for too long. What could possibly go wrong?

"Pancakes", my mom said grinning. Seeing as it's your first day, I thought I'd give you a little treat. I grin in excitement, kissing my mom on the cheek. "Thanks, you're the best".

"I know. Now hurry up you need to leave soon and you're not even dressed".

I swallow my food in just a few bites. I guess I'm really hungry, I also need to get ready on time, I don't want to be late on my first day. I had a quick shave because I didn't want any facial hair, took a quick shower while reminiscing my interview day. I couldn't help but smile because it was a heck of a day.

My interest in aviation has been present since I was a child. I have always enjoyed watching planes at airports and visiting aviation museums with older and historic planes. I took my first plane ride when I was two years old with my family to Savannah, Georgia. I can vaguely remember being fascinated with the planes when I was staring out the window. So, when I was 11 years old, my parents read an advertisement in the newspaper depicting an opportunity for flying lessons at a local airport. Since I always had an interest, I decided to try it out. My first flight where I was in control of the airplane! It was surreal.

So I researched the airline I was applying to thoroughly and got ready for my interview with them. For pilots, the technical portion of the interview can include a test on anything from flight performance to meteorology. For other aviation professionals, like flight attendants, the technical portion may be conducted as a group assessment to test your ability to respond to customer requests and emergencies.

The technical part of the interview is self-explanatory, you could be asked a range of subjects across the theoretical ATPL spectrum ranging from performance of flight to meteorology, and I aced every single part of the interview.

I left the shower, snapping out of my little flashback.

I need to look decent today, so I started rummaging through my wardrobe. I had shopped a few corporate outfits for work, so I had what to wear in mind today.

I picked a long-sleeved, solid white shirt, a solid tie with a few narrow stripes, a plain-toed black lace up shoes in good condition and polished of course, and a leather belt the color of my shoes. I had on a short hair cut to go with my entire dress code. I dressed up, standing in front of the mirror. And of course, my mom, standing in the doorway behind me.

Her silvery eyes flickered with bravado, but she couldn't suppress the excitement leaking into her voice. I looked back at her, smiling and sat on my bed, waiting, because I knew she'd come to me.

Smirking, the lady hunkered down so she came eye-to-eye with me. I smile even wider, because no matter how grown up I am, my mom would never stop treating me like a little boy.

"I'm extremely proud of you Son. Your father would be proud too".

She's right. My dad was way more enthusiastic about my career than my mom would ever even be. But this is no time to be sentimental, I have a job to get to.

"I know Mom, thank you". I said while I pecked her and stood up left the room and she followed right behind me. I hear my ride outside, grabbed my bag and rushed outside as I trudged down the stairs on my porch. "Bye Mom, see you soon".

"Bye sweetie, have a great first day". I hope so.I own a beautiful Cessna 172, but I really didn't think I wanted to drive to work alone. I needed company because of the nature of the pressure of a first day at work. So I had to call my only friend, Ron, to come pick me up on his way to work.

The car continues to honk. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Sheesh man", I snap at my best friend, Ron. He just laughs. "Come on Marcus, you don't want to be late".

"Yeah sure", I mutter as I slam the car door behind me and we immediately zoom off. Only mere minutes away from my dream job.

Chapter 2

I took a lot of steps to make my dream a reality. My passion for flying impacted my college decision as well as my career choice.

I am an instrument-rated commercial pilot. To get to this point, I had to first obtain my private pilot’s license. This involved a series of dual flights with a single instructor and solo flights on my own.

When learning how to become a private pilot, I had very little knowledge of the aircraft and the knowledge that came with it. A lot of studying and practice brought me to earning the license later on. A few weeks ago, I earned my instrument-rating, allowing me to fly in unfavorable weather conditions, such as low clouds or fog.

In recent times also, I earned my commercial pilot’s license, allowing me to fly for compensation or hire. I have around 250 hours of flight time currently, a mixture of dual and solo flying.

My very favourite experience and favorite plane that I’ve ever flown on is the Bo