Page 3 of The Ampersand Effect
Katie returned moments later. “Everyone is here. Do you have anything you’d like to say before we start? Otherwise, we’ll introduce you two and then break into the smaller groups. I’llbe taking pictures throughout, and then we’ll do a large group photo at the end of each session.”
“You can introduce us and then break into the groups,” Eddie confirmed. “There’s not much they need to know to ride. We’ll let each group see the cockpit, get hooked up to the mic system, and then up we go.”
Ten minutes later, they were walking out to the helipad with their first group of passengers. Jonah and his family led the way. Tobin noticed Jonah walked with an obvious limp, but it wasn’t impeding him in the slightest. He talked nonstop, rattling off helicopter facts to his family, who looked as though they’d been barraged with them before.
Tobin quickened her pace to catch up. In as serious a tone as she could muster while restraining her own excitement, she asked, “Captain Jonah, would you like to tackle the pre-flight check list with us today?”
Jonah’s head whipped up at her so quickly he nearly stumbled. Tobin reached out a hand to steady him just as his mother whispered, “Jonah, mind your leg, honey.”
“For real? I can go through the pre-flight checklist with you?” he asked, eyes wide.
“You bet! You can help me check some dials while you’re looking in the cockpit,” Tobin replied.
He began to skip with excitement, nearly losing his balance again. “Jonah!” his mother yelped, a little louder this time.
Jonah slowed his steps, pressing his hand gently against his troubled left hip. “My leg isn’t so good,” he murmured, eyes cast downward, a poignant reflection of his struggle to come to terms with his limitations. Tobin’s heart ached for him. She didn’t know the reason for his hospital stay, but the fact that he was here at all spoke to its severity. She fervently hoped today might bring him joy—a fleeting yet precious glimpse of the future he could have as a pilot.
Tobin and Eddie helped each of the passengers into the cockpit, answering questions and fitting everyone with the comms system. Tobin couldn’t contain her hearty laughter as Micah and Jonah each deployed the mechanical horn, having secretly asked some of the hospital personnel to overreact in surprise. Their laughter pervaded the helipad, and she swore she saw their mother brushing at her eyes to hold back tears.
With the passengers buckled into the cabin seats, Eddie engaged the rotor. “Do you think our Captain Jonah would like to start us off?” she asked with a grin.
Tobin matched Eddie’s smile and turned on her mic to the cabin. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your co-pilot, Captain Maes. We’re delighted to have you aboard today, especially because we have a very special guest.” Her smile widened, wishing she could see his face. “Captain Jonah, as your inaugural flight departs, would you honor us with our all-clear signal?”
There was a slight pause before a startled reply came through the mic. “Yes,” he choked out. Then, more emphatically, “Yes!”
“Okay, Captain! Repeat after me: Rotors turning, clear prop!” “Rotors turning! Clear prop!” Jonah practically shouted, his voice faintly audible through the cockpit in real time. Tobin beamed as Eddie lifted them into the air.
The remainder of the flights followed the same pattern. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, but none had the same effect on Tobin as Jonah and Micah.
She and Eddie settled into a comfortable rhythm—answering questions, flying, and posing for photo ops. By the final flight though, Tobin’s left elbow ached with every pull into the box office, the joint growing tighter and more painful each time she used it.
A restless energy hummed inside her chest as the rotors spun overhead. Her mind drifted to her upcoming working vacationin Iceland at the end of the summer. For several years, she had returned annually for courses, eventually invited back as a guest instructor. Over time, she’d developed a bond with one of her classmates, Njáll, a relationship that felt almost sibling-like now. When she traveled there, she stayed with him and his family.
Training abroad—whether as the student or the instructor— was a balm to her overwhelming sense of wanderlust. It gave her the chance to sharpen her skills, forge friendships across the globe, and indulge her gustatory fantasies through local cuisine. Often, she was welcomed into the homes of her instructors, where she absorbed local cooking traditions firsthand. If that wasn’t an option, she signed up for cooking classes wherever she landed, hungry to taste and learn.
She was especially looking forward to this trip because Njáll’s sister, Dagný, was a skilled tattooist and had eagerly agreed to add new ink to the growing sleeve on her left forearm. The intricate markings sprawled across her torso, clavicle, and arm—a decade-long project she’d begun long before the accident. Each piece marked a place she’d traveled, the left side of her body transformed into a canvas of global expeditions, a permanent passport on her body.
Her tattoos told the compelling story of her transformation post-accident; they chronicled her transition of survival to thrival following the fateful helicopter crash. The phoenix, wings ablaze and chest lifted in regal pride, coiled around the surgical scar on her elbow. The mythical bird had always resonated with her spirit— but following her accident, it evolved into a powerful symbol of her perseverance.
Every addition carried new meaning, blending her own story with local lore or tradition. Lately, the itch for new ink gnawed deep in her soul, and she already knew what she wanted next: Icelandiclopapeysapatterning, winding its way through the open space along her biceps and forearm.
Tobin unconsciously rubbed her left forearm. It was really starting to bother her. She’d hoped it would loosen up during the flights, but the ache had only worsened. Now, the palm of her hand felt like it was starting to cramp. If she didn’t get it under control soon, they’d have to cancel the remainder of the flights—she couldn’t safely co-pilot with a bum hand.
“I’m glad we get a break for lunch after this,” she admitted. “My arm’s still bothering me. I can feel my hand clenching now.”
“What? Tobin!” Eddie shot her a look. “You need to speak up sooner. I could’ve called another co-pilot and sent you home.”
“I thought it would go away once it warmed up. And it did… for a little while. But it’s back. Think the hospital has an ice pack I can borrow while we eat?”
“I’m sure they could send someone up to look at it for you,” Eddie offered, despite the fact that Tobin knew Eddie would know how much she’d hate receiving special treatment. “Is it really that bad?”
Tobin hesitated before answering quietly, “Like… a seven?”
“A seven! Dammit, Tobin! I’ve got the controls—just use the pedals to assist for the rest of the flight. Rest up, and we’ll reassess at lunch. If we have to cancel the afternoon, Katie will understand.”
“I’m not worried about Katie—it’s the kids I don’t want to upset. Have you seen their faces, Eddie? This is the best day of their lives. I don’t want to let the afternoon group down.”
Eddie was quiet for a moment as they prepared to return to the hospital. “I’m not risking it. We can reschedule if needed. If you’re not down to a three out of ten by the end of lunch, we’re calling it. Am I clear?”