Chapter 5

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MICHAEL

Peeringthrough the miniblinds at Flyboys, he watched Poppy walk back to her car, leaving. Letting out a sigh of avid relief, he let the blinds that he'd bent open suddenly close with a clatter – only to turn and face his Aunt Harley standing next to Houdini, who was halfway seated on one of the empty desks in the classroom portion of Flyboys.

"You know you have to face her at some point, right?"

"Poppy is curious… and she isn't shy about it."

"I know," Michael began, grateful that his stammer was fading slightly. When he got upset, frightened, or felt cornered, it usually hit him hard. Things were starting to slowly get back to feeling normal, but there was a portion of his innermost soul that felt like something had been stolen from him without his permission.

Michael was always welcomed everywhere he went. Growing up, he was part of ‘those pesky Petersen twins,' and everyone knew them. He was on the football team, looked up to, revered almost, and when he got his appointment to the Academy – everyone treated him like he'd been handed a crowning achievement.

Now, he was facing the hard facts of life. He had peaked in high school and hadn't known it. He wasn't special. He was kicked out of the Academy for an embarrassing indiscretion that he didn't do – however – if he admitted the truth to himself, he was drunk and in uniform, which wasn't any better.

He closed his eyes, hearing those awful words once more in his mind.

"Participating in shocking misconduct unbecoming of a cadet, combined with a sub-par performance in your classes, it is at the decision of this council that your position at the Academy is remediated to another more deserving student… You are officially dismissed, Mister Petersen."

CadetPetersen was no more.

"Michael," his Aunt Harley began gently, moving to hug him. "Sweetie, life is about change and how you adapt to it. We've all had to go through movement, change, and growth – and you'll make it through this. I promise. You are doing so well here and…"

"You both hired me because you know me," Michael began, openly stating the truth. "You showed me pity and gave me a job where someone could keep an eye on me…"

"Well, that's a warped way of looking at things," Houdini chuckled, not bothering to hide the fact. "I suppose it could look that way to you – yes."

"Houdini!" Harley hissed in disbelief as the man with dark eyes stared at him, unflinchingly.

"Look, Michael. I probably understand better than you'll ever know," Houdini began, and Michael interrupted him.

"Lemme guess, your eyes and…"

"Let me finish," Houdini retorted, smirking. "I was a rich brat that once had everything handed to him too…"

His aunt's horrified gasp was almost comical, but those words were kinda what Michael needed to hear to keep his attention – because he felt them deeply.

"My father was always campaigning, wanting to become a senator or governor back home. I had money, the lifestyle, everything. You think you have it all and that your name opens doors to you – but when you find out you are normal, a nobody, and those same doors get slammed in your face," Houdini paused, looking at him uncannily. "It hurts in a way no one can imagine, right?"

"Y-Yes…" he stammered, and Houdini's face softened.

"Harley, can you give us a moment?"

His aunt left the room, and Michael immediately heard the front door open, causing the two of them to look at each other.

"She went for your mother…"

"Y-Yup."

"You don't need your mother, though," Houdini said simply, watching him as he crossed his arms over his chest. "The Academy gave me a place to find myself where I felt like I could show them all what I was made of – and I did for a while. You were on top of the world here, and I can imagine with your personality that you hated the Academy, didn't you?"

Michael didn't say a word.

"Just because your father loved it doesn't mean you have to. You know that, right? You are not Hunter ‘Alpo' Petersen… you are Michael ‘Thing Two' Petersen and your own person."

There was a parental tone to the other man's voice that caused a lump in his throat as he nodded simply.

"You don't have to like the same things. You don't have to work here if you don't want to, and truthfully – you don't have to run from my daughter. Let me be the first to tell you that I will respect you so much more for being strong enough to decide for yourself what you want to do with your life. Don't let people push you into things. Do what makes you happy. Whether it"s flying, working at Flyboys, Poppy, whatever," he said openly, not holding back. "It's up to you."

"What's going on here?" Michael's mother said from the doorway, her face protective, and his Aunt Harley was standing behind her. "Houdini? Michael? Somebody tell me what is going on and why your face is ashen, sweetie…"

"Mom," Michael began, not looking away from Poppy's father. "We were just talking about a few things."

"What things?" his mother said bluntly, growling and pressing the matter like a protective mother bear. He didn't need his mommy rescuing him or trying to clear his path for him – and that revelation was startling. Instead, he needed people to look at him like an adult, treat him like one, and recognize the fact that just because he'd been kicked out of the Academy, he still had value.

There was no pity, no worry in Houdini's eyes. He looked at him like he was a man on the brink of something better, and that helped. He wasn't a failure or flunky. He wasn't a baby to be pampered or coddled.

He was a flawed man just like anyone else.

"Work things," Michael said, not looking away from Houdini. "I need to order some business cards, put on the schedule for flights, and I think I want to get a few pairs of coveralls that say, ‘Flyboys' embroidered on the chest if I'm going to actually work here as an employee."

His voice was strong - and he didn't stutter.

"You want to be on the schedule for flights?" his aunt asked, surprised.

"Yes. I'm capable and have my pilot's license."

"You need to get certified as an instructor too – but I can help you with that. Does that mean I need to take you off the rotation of classes?"

"No," Michael said determinedly. "I'm a Petersen," he began, his voice growing hard. "This is our company, and I want to know every aspect of it from top to bottom, just like you and Dad."

"Oh," his mother whispered and Michael looked at her, seeing the proud glimmer in her eyes that shimmered brightly as she looked at Houdini. "I don't know what you said or did – but thank you."

"Man stuff," Houdini shrugged simply, making light of their conversation so she didn't press him for more – and it worked. His mother backed down, looking happier than she had been in a week.

"Mikey, lemme talk to your daddy and your aunt about getting another Cessna for the business," his mother gushed, moving to hug him before racing out of the classroom and pulling Harley behind her.

Houdini stood up and nodded at him.

"You want some coffee?"

"I'd love a cup."

"C'mon, Petersen…" Houdini chuckled, wrapping an arm around his neck like he did to his father occasionally. "You're going to be a chip off the ol' block, aren't you?"

For the first time in forever, Michael laughed easily. He smiled at the other man, nodded, and felt like he was standing taller. Poppy's father had once told him to ‘Man up,' and he'd been sort of insulted… but understood now. He needed to grow up, be a man, and find his place.

And his place wasn't a job, a school, or a location.

It was an idea – a mindset.

Michael might not be a cadet anymore – but he would always be a Petersen. Flyboys was built on the backs of his father and his aunt. This was their idea, their creation, and it was true. If he was going to make his life and home here, he wanted to be invested in it fully, almost like it was his own company.

Someday, it might be.