"Sorry, gang. We're flying out by midnight, anyway."

"Damn it Corky, you know I hate night flying. We can get from Phoenix to Flagstaff tomorrow to load up the Jeep if we start early, and still be at the Grand Canyon in time to finish the dig."

"Anne is right, Corky. Let's wait till first light," Lyle said. "You know the FAA regs, eight hours between bottle and throttle. You did a number on that wine at dinner."

"Listen, you two, those artifacts are due at the university by the end of the week. And Lyle, I know you've not flown in a small plane before, but hell, isn't that what grad school is all about, learning new stuff? I put all the equipment on board, we're leaving as close to twelve as possible. End of subject. Meet me on the ramp by eleven-thirty."

Lyle stole a look at Anne's angry face, shrugged his shoulders, and gave her an assuring wink. "Let's grab a bite," he said.

The airport's tiny restaurant reeked of hamburgers, hot fries and burned coffee. It was closing time and all three downed their

coffee. Corky went to the cashier, put the tab on his card and made a long distance telephone call. He noticed Lyle whispering to Anne.

She smiled, looked at him, got up from the table and passed behind him running her hand along his back and playfully digging her nails into his shirt. She lowered her head and whispered to him as she passed

behind his chair. In a short, quick move, Lyle made a fist with his right hand and jerked his arm to the rear. He broke into a smirk with lips that seemed to say, "Yes".

"Dump me for a grad student, will ya? We'll see," Corky said.

A little after twelve, Corky packed his bulky self into the cramped pilot's seat. The lonely twin engine Cessna was parked on the ramp at the gas pumps under a single dim, old fashioned overhead light bulb. "Might be a loud, dumb lookin' aircraft but she sure hauls for an old bird," he said as he pushed the battery toggle to check the gauges. "I'm gonna miss this old twin tailed, twin engined classic. Must have been designed by a committee." He chuckled to himself.

"Where the devil are dear Anne and my young buddy, Lyle? They're late. Come on guys don't screw up the plan." Corky squinted through the Plexiglas trying to see some sign of them but the small airport was engulfed in late night blackness. The only light came from the rotating beacon on the roof of the closed restaurant. The

alternating beams of white and green light gave the hushed blackness a desolate and eerie feeling. Then he saw them.

"Where the hell have you two been? It's after twelve."

"Relax Corky, we're here now," Anne said. "Is the plane ready?"

"What the hell do you think? Yeah. I've been waitin' on you two for half an hour. Lyle, you take the back seat, that will balance our

weight better. We've got a full load of fuel. Okay, fasten your seat belts and shoulder harnesses and let's go. Lock your door, Anne."

Corky was quick to put on his headset and fire up the aft engine. He taxied to the run-up area, quickly ran through the checklist, ignited the forward engine and called on the radio.

"Skymaster two-five-Bravo-Romeo rolling to the active." "Skymaster departing runway three-two."

With tandem engines thundering at full throttle, the plane began a begrudging takeoff roll then picked up some speed. The old craft's weak taxi lights illuminated the broken black macadam runway but the plane seemed to outrun what little light there was, most of it absorbed in the moonless night. The plane accelerated, its deafening prop blast cracked the night silence leaving an invisible swirl of dust in its wake.

Lyle blurted, "Is it supposed to be so rough? Geeze, the runway is all washboard. I can feel every bump."

The end of the runway soon filled the windshield. "I'm gettin' queasy with all this bouncing around. Geeze, do we have enough runway?"

As the creaking Cessna continued to gain speed, it seemed the landing gear transmitted each runway imperfection right into the cabin. Sharp bangs and bumps from missing runway hardtop and teeth rattling vibrations from old runway repairs jarred the passengers. The

cabin shook and the windows rattled when takeoff speed was finally reached. At the furthest limit of the runway, Corky pulled back on the

yoke, clearing the low trees beyond the fence as the fading rotating beacon disappeared behind them. The landing gear whined and clunked as it retracted.

"Damn it, Corky, you enjoy scaring the hell out of us don't you?" Anne screamed.

"This old Skymaster is a poor place for conversations," Corky said, "especially with a head set." He broke into a concealed grin knowing Anne couldn't hear him over the roar of the engines and the wind hiss of the slipstream. The cabin was in darkness with only a

faint glow from the instrument panel. Beyond the windshield, vast, black emptiness grew even darker as the plane gained altitude.

Lyle swallowed hard and yelled, "Did you get a weather briefing?"

"At this time of the year?" Corky said, twisting his head to the right to be heard. "It'll be severe clear all the way to the Canyon. Relax. We'll be there in an hour or so."

Corky climbed to twenty five hundred feet and took a heading of three eight five degrees for Flagstaff. "No stars, but the horizontal visibility is excellent. I can see the surrounding blackness perfectly," he quipped.

Forty minutes later, out beyond the void, Corky saw the faint glow of lights of a small city on the horizon. "There it is, over the nose, dead ahead," Corky said in his loud captain's voice. He had a

hard time to keep from bursting into laughter. Dead ahead, yeah, right on, real dead! This'll fix those two.

"Damn, this is a loud damn plane," Lyle yelled to Anne in the front seat. "Hell of a draft back here from the doors, too," he said as anxiety raised his voice an octave.

"This model aircraft has a reputation for being very loud inside and out. We get complaints from the neighbors near the airport, too," Anne said, yelling to be heard over the drone and vibrations. She slid her left arm back between the two front seats to hold on to Lyle. Corky didn't let on that he noticed her encouragement and, no doubt, the suggestion of something to look forward to as well. What the hell. Let them continue their little charade. Won't be long now, he thought.

Lyle strained against his seat belt and tapped Corky's shoulder. "Where is all our gear? There's nothing back here." He pointed to a cardboard box next to him, covered by a small tarpaulin. "I thought it was supposed to contain the archeological equipment."

By this time the aircraft had passed over the glow from the city and became immersed in the inkiness beyond.

"Where are we going to land? Aren't we supposed to land at Flagstaff?" Anne's voice had a sense of urgency.

"We're going on to the little grass strip at Grand Canyon Village."

Lyle interrupted, "Where in blazes is all our stuff, Corky? Geeze man, talk to me."

"We can't land at that tiny strip, there aren't enough lights," Anne yelled, her anger fulminating as she squirmed trying to loosen the shoulder harness and seat belt.

Corky was unable to keep the smirk off his face. Everything was working perfectly. He checked the glow of his watch. "Yep, five

minutes into the Canyon, this is it." He pushed the yoke forward with slow and gentle pressure, pointing the nose of the aircraft down at a sharp angle.

"Geeze, Corky, what the hell are you doing, man?" Lyle cried out.

"What the hell is wrong with this damn seat belt?" Anne said, struggling to lift the latch.

The Cessna leveled off. Corky put the plane on autopilot and checked his watch again. "We ought to be out of gas right about now," he said and pulled back the throttles.

He removed his headset, placed it on top of the instrument panel and turned to Anne. "I've known about you and Lyle for months now. You two were so occupied with each other tonight you never noticed I'm wearing a sky diver's chute and I've spring loaded the door hinges so that my door will pop right off. I'm outa here. Happy landings you two. You deserve each other."

Corky rammed his shoulder to the door and in a deafening whoosh of frigid air, disappeared through the opening into the black hole of the Grand Canyon.