Landing in Aurora Bay

As we flew over rivers that flowed down to spill into the Cook Inlet, Dyllan said, “Here we go!”  The women in the seats ahead tensed and chatted excitedly.  Grace pulled out the headphones to her MP3 player and turned her music on MUCH too loud, closing her eyes. 

I had just enough time to wonder what all the excitement was about, and then the plane began to turn in a wide angle down to the left and Grace leaned against my side, pushing me into Dyllan’s shoulder.  I hadn’t realized how tall or solid he was until that moment… or how warm.  The smell of musk, old leather and aftershave was exhilarating.  My heart rate picked up and I prayed I was the only one who could feel the beat.

The plane shook a bit as we turned in almost a circle.  It straightened out just in time to line up with the runway and slow down for landing.  After a few moments Grace realized she was still leaning on me and sat up quickly.  I righted myself and nervously said “thanks” to no one in particular.  My voice sounded odd to me with my ears stuffed and waiting to pop.

The double strips of light greeted us ahead, and we bounced off the tarmac twice before smoothly pulling into Aurora Bay’s only airfield.  Glacial mountains towered over lush green trees.  Four foot tall fireweed and bright yellow dandelions were sprinkled across the grass meadow on the left of the airstrip.  Beyond that was milky glacial run-off pouring into the bay and out to sea.

As we taxied in, we saw several cars lined up near the rounded metal hanger marked in big green letters “Andy’s Toys.”  I rolled her eyes at the sign, and then took a closer look at the cars.  They were all old and beautiful.  It looked like the start of a car show.   A mid-‘70s turquoise and white Chevy truck was parked beside a custom tie-dyed Volkswagen Van.  A huge golden Buick Roadmaster was parked at an odd angle to the others.  Behind those three was an early ‘80s cherry red Mustang and a shiny black F150 with a blue medic’s light bar on top.