The Aerie: Air Strip on Weeks Mountain

By Marjorie Irish Randell

Flying over the flat, tree-covered top of Weeks Mountain in the foothills of the High Sierras on Sunday afternoon in the fall of 1983, Pat and Leslie Halston spot the perfect place to build a landing strip of their own.

After persuading old Mr. Weeks to sell the land to him, Pat clears the mountaintop for his landing strip and a repair hangar. They name the place The Aerie and make it their home. Gradually, eleven other couples join them on the mountain, and The Aerie becomes a community. Personality differences cause friction among some of the residentsbut then one of them turns up dead. Can the people living in The Aerie figure out which one of them is the killerbefore its too late?

In this mystery novel set in an Air Park, the people of The Aerie must determine who the killer among them is in order to protect their unique community.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jul 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781466999671

Marjorie Irish Randell

Marjorie Irish Randell is the author of three other books before writing this one about her husband. “Searching for Friday’s Child” is the life of her brother who was lost during WWII, next was “The Aerie?–?Airstrip on Weeks Mountain” telling of life in a fictional Air Park in California, then Marjorie wrote the story of her husband Edward’s grandmother and her husband, George Hazen Pratt. George Hazen surveyed the Yukon in the 1880s, seeing much of the uncharted territory of the northwest and Alaska. After finishing her husband’s story in this book, Marjorie is now working on her own life story. This one, she tells us, is just for her family. We shall see…

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© Copyright 2013 Marjorie Irish Randell.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4669-9968-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-9966-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-9967-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013911019

Trafford rev. 05/20/2015

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Contents

Pat And Leslie Halston    First Arrivals-1983

Bob And Sue Ryder    Second Arrivals-1985

Jake Weeks    Owner Of Weeks Mountain

Pat And Leslie

Jake Weeks

Leslie And Sue

Pat And Leslie

L.j. And Grace Letson    Sixth Arrivals

Progress

Ray And Angie Weston    Third Arrivals

Jake Weeks

Weston’s Problem

Bob And Sue Ryder

The Lounge

Dick And Marilyn Perrin Leon And Alta Bartlett    Fourth And Fifth Arrivals

Heather And Jeremy Wilson    Seventh Arrivals

More Nests

Jake Weeks

Jeremy And Heather Wilson

Glimmer Voices

Joe And Melanie Madras    Eighth Arrivals

Jeremy

George And Virginia Masters    Ninth Arrivals

Ed And Louella Ahrens    Tenth Arrivals

Walt And Gina Lacey    Eleventh Arrivals

Ted And Arlene Zyzak    Twelfth Arrivals

Jake Weeks

George And Virginia

Louella And Ed Ahrens

Alta Bartlett

The Ahrens

Glimmer’s Cemetery

Alta

Sheriff Biggs

Alta

After Effects

Gina Lacey

Laceys And Zyzaks

Ted And Arlene

Angie, Gina And Pat

Alta And Leon

Angie Versus Ed Ahrens

Eben Hollister

Angie And Ray

Amy Weeks

Eben Hollister

L. J. And Grace

George And Virginia

Amy And Jake Weeks

Farewell For Jake

Amy And Jeremy

Heather And Joe Madras

Pat And Leslie

Angie And Ray

Pat And Leslie

Angie And Ray

Leslie And Pat

Amy And Jeremy

For my favorite pilot and best friend, Edward William

List of Characters

Characters from The Aerie, listed in the order of

their coming to live on Weeks Mountain.

1. Pat and Leslie Halston—Original owners and builders of The Aerie.

2. Bob and Sue Ryder—Bob is mechanic first mate to Pat in the repair hangar. Sue is a former social worker.

3. Ray and Angie Weston—Ray is retired (sold his printing business) and Angie is still selling real estate.

4. Dick and Marilyn Perrin—Dick is a United Airlines pilot, recently married to his cousin Marilyn, who is presently a stay-at-home wife.

5. Leon & Alta Bartlett—Leon is a building contractor. Alta, a former champion swimmer.

6. L.J. & Grace Letson—L.J. is a geologist, soon to retire. His wife Grace is a registered nurse.

7. Jeremy & Heather Wilson—Jeremy is a metal sculptor. His wife Heather, a homemaker and mother.

8. Joseph & Melanie Madras*—Joe is an airline pilot. Melanie a schoolteacher.

9. George & Virginia Masters—George is a self-made man of considerable wealth. His wife Virginia enjoys being the wife of a wealthy man.

10. Ed & Louella Ahrens—Ed is a retired Air Force man whose spouse Louella is an avid activist.

11. Walter & Gina Lacey—Walt is a former Air Force pilot, now retired. Gina, a student and would-be writer.

12. Ted & Arlene Zyzak†—Ted is a retired civil engineer. His wife Arlene, a disenchanted social worker.

PAT AND LESLIE HALSTON

First Arrivals-1983

Pat Halston banked his Cessna for another look at a small clearing in the trees below. The foothills of the High Sierras had always been intriguing to him with their rounded peaks, rock outcroppings, trees and canyons. Great place to live but not so great for trying to land a plane, he thought.

What’s up? Leslie Halston, always alert to her husband’s flight maneuvers, looked up from the map on her lap.

See that clearing down there? Right on top of the mountain? Pat turned to make another pass over the spot he had sighted. Can you see if there’s a town anywhere near… yeah, look… half way down the mountain, on the side of the canyon.

Right. I see the town. I can’t find it on the map. Leslie’s head bent closer to the map as she peered at it again. We just passed the dam, didn’t we? Here… here it is… must be this little place, called… I can’t believe it… Glimmer!

That’s about all it is… a glimmer, Pat laughed.

What’s your interest?

Pat banked again for another pass over the small clearing he had seen first. See the clearing up from the town on top of the mountain… there, we’re right over it now. Looks just about big enough for a landing strip, don’t you think? Someone’s standing down there in the middle of the clearing. Pat swung around for one more pass and eased off on the throttle, flying lower to the ground. They could both plainly see a man standing in the middle of the clearing shaking a long stick at them.

Uh-oh, looks like whoever that is doesn’t care for low flying planes over his mountaintop. Leslie reached over and touched Pat’s knee. Maybe we’d better not make another pass.

Pat only grinned and turned the plane west heading toward the Bay Area and the airport at East Palo Alto. What do you say we come back up here next weekend in the car and try to find that Glimmer?

You’re really serious, aren’t you?

Well, let’s just say I’m always interested in any flat spot on top of a mountain! Pat was laughing as he turned to look at Leslie’s solemn expression. Don’t worry, Leslie. I’d never do anything rash without your complete agreement.

Leslie knew he took on some pretty heavy stuff every time he bought another old relic of a plane to restore, but she trusted him completely in that department. He made some excellent choices and had money saved to buy acreage somewhere for an airstrip and a hangar all his own instead of renting the one at Palo Alto for his restoration work. But a tiny spot on top of a mountain in the High Sierras seemed a little too remote.

If we’re coming up next weekend why don’t we bring Bob and Sue along with us?

Hey! That’s a great idea. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow. We have to get started on that AT6 trainer early. Johnson’s already agreed to buy it the minute we finish, but by next Sunday Bob and I will be ready for a little diversion. Great idea. Diversion in Glimmer, he laughed. Heck of a name, isn’t it? Glimmer. We may have to change that.

BOB AND SUE RYDER

Second Arrivals-1985

What do you think of Pat and Leslie’s idea for a landing strip up in the foothills? Sue Ryder was beginning preparation for dinner in the mini-kitchen of their condominium in Oakland.

Well, I think it’s about time he got his own landing strip but I’m not too sure about one in the mountains. Bob was shuffling papers off the table so that Sue could use it for setting up their dinner.

Leslie is a little wary, too. Truthfully, I think that’s why she wants us to go up to Glimmer with them this weekend. Sue pulled vegetables out of the refrigerator and started peeling and chopping.

Well, that’s okay. Bob said. It’ll be a heck of a commute for me to get up there every day to work. I don’t relish bunking in a hangar all week and away from you either, but we’ll have to think about that further down the road, I guess.

Bob had scrubbed his mechanic’s hands well in the shower. His curly dark hair was still damp as he sat watching Sue thoughtfully. Sue glanced at him thinking anew how fresh and ready for anything he always looked after a long stint of work on the planes that were his love. He works so hard, she thought. As hard as Pat but we don’t have any stash of money saved up for buying the condo we live in let alone a landing strip. As if his mind was tuned into her thoughts, Bob said, If I just didn’t have that big chunk of our money going for alimony and child care we might be able to go in with Pat and Leslie on a strip.

Let’s hope Estelle’s new boyfriend turns out to be serious enough to marry her, Sue laughed. Then with just child care we might be able to afford a monthly payment of some kind. I keep telling you I should go back to work.

You know I don’t want you to do that. I want you to be able to spend time with the kids when they come. They really like you and love to come. They need someone like you. Estelle is such a scatterbrain. If you had a job it would be hard to fit the kids in.

I could get a part-time job.

Then who would Pat and I have as our ‘gofer’ on parts?

Leslie could probably be spared from the office to do a little gofer work. Sue dumped vegetables into the stir-fry wok. Why don’t I just look around a little and see what might be available?

Let’s wait until we look at Pat’s mountaintop this weekend. Bob continued watching Sue even though his mind seemed to be on something else entirely. When he returned to reality and noticed she had shut off the heat under the wok he said, Shall I dish up the rice?

Good idea.

He picked up the saucepan and began spooning steaming rice onto the two plates Sue had warming. She forked vegetables and tofu chunks out onto the rice, set out the soy sauce and they both sat down to eat.

Bob Ryder and Pat Halston had been buddies for years of tinkering on airplane motors and both thought alike but Bob was the cautious one. He wasn’t too sure about Pat’s idea of a mountaintop until he flew over the site with his friend during the week. Then it was, Go for it, man!

Sunday’s drive up to Glimmer turned out to be an all day affair and a day full of surprises. The two couples stopped in the little town of Glimmer midmorning to try finding a realtor or at least someone who knew how to get up to the top of the mountain and that knew who owned the land. They had driven the three short streets that appeared to be the main streets of town and found no realtor’s office. Finally as they passed a small Victorian farmhouse up one of the side streets, Leslie exclaimed, Oh, how cute! Look at that little Victorian. It was freshly painted, had a neatly clipped lawn out front and colorful flowers bloomed behind a white picket fence.

More than cute Victorian, I’d say, Pat chimed in. Look at the lettering on that big front window. It’s the local newspaper. Maybe they can help us if we can’t find a realtor.

Providing they’re open on Sunday.

Both couples got out of the car, stretching a bit, breathing in the cool mountain air. They all trekked up the brick walkway leading to the front door and waited after Pat had turned the large key on what appeared to be a doorbell mounted on the lower portion of the door. The loud clang reverberated up and down the street. I love this little house, Leslie kept saying, Even an old-fashioned door bell. It’s a real clangor, too.

But no one answered the clanging bell. After several minutes they turned to begin walking slowly back toward the car and found someone was just opening the little picket gate. A gray-haired man was scowling at the foursome. Are you looking for someone? He had stopped so suddenly the younger woman behind him bumped up against him.

Pat said, Yes. Yes, we are. We wondered if there might be a realtor living in this town. And we thought the newspaper would be the logical place to begin looking for information.

No realtors in this town. If you’ll excuse me… the gray-haired man brushed past his visitors, This office isn’t open on Sunday.

Leslie stepped forward, smiling, Hi, I’m Leslie Halston. This is my husband Pat and our friends Bob and Sue Ryder. Are you the editor of the paper, sir? Are you Mr. Sharp as it says on the front window? Leslie’s respectful disarming manner seemed to work as the man turned toward her, looking her over carefully.

Yes, I’m Wessel Sharp, editor of Glimmer’s only newspaper. But, as I said, this office isn’t open on Sunday.

But, sir, we only have this day. We can’t come up here any other day and we need some information. Do you know how we can get up to the top of the mountain? We’ve tried to find a road…

You can’t find a road because there isn’t one to the top of the mountain. Only way to get there is to walk. Now, if you’ll excuse me…

Pat had backed off and watched his wife as she worked at charming the gray-haired man.

But, Mr. Sharp… could you please tell us who owns the land at the top and then perhaps that person could take us up there.

Wessel Sharp turned toward Leslie, his scowl and body language showing his extreme reluctance to being questioned. Then suddenly he began to laugh.

I can tell you who owns the land but there’s no way he’ll take you up to the top of his mountain. Why do you want to go up there?

We’ve seen it from the air and we’d like to be able to walk up there. We had even hoped, sir, that we might find that it was for sale.

Was that you flying over the mountain top last Sunday afternoon? Swooping down and roaring across the top of the trees?

Pat answered this time, Yes, it probably was. We flew over here last Sunday and made a second pass a little lower so we could see better.

Well, you caused poor Mr. Weeks to nearly have a heart attack with your flying so low. If you think he might sell to you after that you have another think coming.

Maybe we should just skip talking to Mr. Weeks this time. Could you give us an idea where to start to walk up there today? Or is the place posted for trespassers? Pat asked.

No, it’s not posted. There’s a trail and Mr. Weeks doesn’t mind having Glimmer folks hike up there, but…

At this juncture the younger woman accompanying Wessel Sharp stepped up on the porch, I don’t think it would be wrong for these people to just walk up to the top of the mountain, Wes.

He gave her a strange look, then reluctantly introduced her to Pat and Leslie, My wife, Emily.

Hi, Emily. I’m Leslie. Leslie smiled and held out her hand.

Within fifteen minutes Emily had changed from her Sunday church going clothes to casual jeans and t-shirt and was walking with the four newcomers across Main Street, then down an alley behind the stores to show them the beginning of a trail leading up to Week’s mountain top. She accompanied them for a half-mile or so through the ever-thickening oak trees before she stopped. I think the trail is pretty clear from here on up and you will probably be able to find your way up and back down again. If I were you I’d hike right on up and look around and get back as soon as I could because Mr. Weeks always walks up here on Sunday afternoon. He takes a little nap after Sunday dinner and then he goes hiking. He might not take too kindly to strangers.

Thanks, Emily. We really appreciate you coming this far with us. Pat grinned at her. We hope we’ll meet you again.

Another thing… if you’re serious about buying the land. I’d wait a few weeks before going to see Mr. Weeks. He was very, very upset last Sunday afternoon. Give him a little time to get over that.

Thanks. Good advice. We’ll take it. I hope the rest of the town of Glimmer is as friendly and welcoming as you are. Leslie turned around and waved at Emily as the four started on up the trail.

The hike was a good two miles and the foursome were grateful to find the clearing and sit down on a couple of boulders to catch their breath and drink the water Sue had thoughtfully brought in her small backpack.

Wow, this is some climb. Bob gazed out across the trees to the valley below.

Worth the climb, though, don’t you think? Leslie asked.

Bob and Sue answered in unison, It sure is.

Pat was on his feet again and off to explore. The clearing was only about half a mile long. We’d have to take out quite a few of these trees. It will make a perfect north south landing strip, Bob! How about having the hangar down at the south end?

You are more than serious about this, aren’t you? I’ll have to admit it is beautiful up here.

The two men walked south toward what Pat envisioned as the perfect spot for his repair hangar, gesturing and planning. Leslie and Sue began their own reconnaissance.

JAKE WEEKS

Owner of Weeks Mountain

Jake Weeks still shuddered when he thought of that airplane buzzing down so close to him on Sunday afternoon. What in the world was that for anyway? He just wished all the airplanes would fly away and leave him alone with his mountaintop.

What do ya think that airplane was flyin’ so close fer anyway on Sunday? he asked his granddaughter Amy.

Who knows, Gramps? Those pilots just like to buzz the mountaintop I think. Maybe they even saw you. She laughed, teasing him. If they saw you shaking your walking stick at them I’m sure it scared them away for good!

That’s our own place up there, Amy.

I know, Gramps. I know. She put her arm around the old man’s shoulders and squeezed him. I feel the same way.

The mountaintop called Weeks Mountain had been just that for as long as anyone could remember. Jake had inherited it when his father died. His father had inherited it when his father died. It went back two generations of Weeks. As time went by, with property values going up, it had been increasingly hard for Jake to pay the taxes every year. By great effort and some sacrifices he had managed.

Jake, now in his eighties, lived with his granddaughter on one of the side roads of Glimmer, a small town perched on the slope below Weeks’ Mountain. Amy, he was proud to tell anyone who would listen, had earned a scholarship. She’s real smart, ya know, he tells them. She earned her own way ta college. She studied hard and now she’s livin’ here with me teachin’ school in Glimmer. A real good teacher, too, they tell me. Here he would straighten up, thrusting out his chest. I’m mighty proud a her. Yup, mighty proud.

Jake was shrinking gradually as he aged so that he was the same height now as Amy. His white hair was thinning but he kept it trimmed neatly by his monthly trips into Skip’s Barber Shop in Glimmer. His keen eyes challenged anyone questioning his words of pride in Amy. Life hadn’t been easy for Jake but he met each blip with determination and always conquered somehow eventually.

Several weeks later when Leslie and Pat Halston came knocking on his door Jake Weeks was already set to not like whoever had flown over him that Sunday afternoon. Meeting the pilot himself and his pretty young wife had Jake reconsidering somewhat. When they asked about buying the mountaintop, his first response was, No, the property is not fer sale.

Most folks would have just accepted that, he thought. Not these two. What more can I say, folks. The property’s not fer sale.

Then that pretty young wife wanted to go up for a walk and would I show her my mountaintop. Well, fer goodness sake, how could I not take her up there? That big sandy-haired fella she called Pat just grinned as they walked away that first day they cum by. After listnin’ to Leslie on our first walk up there I did some tall thinkin’. Was I bein’ selfish to just want to keep the whole mountaintop to m’self? Should I be sharin’? I’m gettin’ close to the end a the line a life m’self. What’ll Amy do with it? She’s all I got left to leave the place to.

On and on went his thoughts. Round and round. Always coming back to the fact that these were the first people who had shown an interest in his property. He didn’t know how much longer he could pay the taxes. Each year it was harder and harder to come up with the money. Whenever he broached the subject to Amy her reply was always the same, We don’t want some one else owning our very own mountaintop, Gramps. Tell them it is not for sale at any price.

Jake’s inner peace was completely shattered with all the conflict in his mind. What should he do?

One day he decided to walk up to the top by himself, without Amy, without Leslie, just him, alone. Once he reached the top he settled down on one of the huge boulders that dotted the area. This here boulder is where we sat so long ago with all our dreams, he thought. He smiled as he remembered his beloved wife, grandmother to Amy, Amy whom she had never even met. He began talking, seemingly to himself, until anyone there to hear would have decided he was talking to someone that he alone could see.

Emma, I got a big problem. I need ta talk it over with someone and the only one I cud think of that would really understand how I feel is you. Ya see, this fella, this flyer fella and his nice little wife, want to buy this… our place up here on top a the mountain. They want to make it a flyin’ place fer this Pat fella to come build a big hangar and fix up old airplanes and maybe he and his nice wife would live here, too. They’d have an airplane. Can ya imagine that, Emma? They’s awful nice folks, Emma. Specially that Leslie. She’s like we used ta say, ‘one in a million’, don’t cha know. Ya’d be proud ta call her yer daughter. I guess I’d almost be ready to sell our dream spot, Em, but the problem is Amy. She’s not like you. She’s more independent like. Maybe she’s more like her mama Willie. Well, Amy… she doesn’t want me to sell ta anybody ever. Course I don’t have to think a what she wants er doesn’t want, it’s just me that’s ta decide, but I don’t want her ta be so unhappy with me. It’d make it hard to live tagether every day. Jake sat on the boulder for a long time after that conversation with his dead wife. At times he smiled, then almost shed tears. At last he stood up with a deep sigh, Thanks, Emma, he said aloud and turned to head back down to Glimmer.

Jake made it a point to come to some kind of agreement with Amy. The sooner the better, he thought. This whole thing is tearin’ me up. He picked the time after their supper when he was drying dishes.

I need ta talk ta ya, Amy. I mean serious talk. I want ya to feel ok with everything I’m thinkin’ of doin’ here now.

Oh, oh! I hope you aren’t talking about selling the mountaintop!

Yup. That’s exactly what I want ta talk about.

You know how I feel about that.

Yes, I do. But I’d like to spell out a few things fer ya. My savings in the bank is about down to a big zero. Tax time is comin’ up and I don’t have enough money to pay ’em. Wouldn’t it be lots better to sell to Pat and Leslie then to have the government take over because I can’t pay the taxes? At least we’d have some money in the bank.

But it’s always been Weeks’ Mountain, Grandpa! How can you let it all go to someone else?

Becuz I can’t do anything else, Amy. These folks are the only ones that have ever been interested in our mountaintop. There’s some folks I’d never dream a sellin’ to, but these folks is different. I’ve got to know ’em pretty good by this time and I trust ’em. They would only do what they say they’d do to the place. Besides, it’s a lifetime dream of Pat’s. Wouldn’t ya like to help somebody have their lifetime dream come true?

I really don’t care about anyone’s lifetime dream. Especially someone who is planning to turn our mountaintop into an airport! Amy was wiping down the counters and nearly finished with the kitchen work.

How did I raise a child to be so selfish, Jake thought. He was almost ready to give up. Then he had an idea. What’s yer lifetime dream, Amy? he asked.

That’s easy. You know what it is… to earn enough money to be able to build a house for us up there on the top.

Would ya be willin’ to live up there along with those flyin’ folks?

I’m not sure. It wouldn’t be the same as just us up there by ourselves.

Neighbors might come in mighty handy some times. If we sold the whole place we’d have enough money to build somethin’ for us.

I’d have to think about that, Grandpa. I’d have to think quite a bit.

Okay. You think. I’ll give ya a week to think. Then we’ll talk again. Jake hung up the dishtowel and walked out of the kitchen leaving Amy standing thoughtfully in the middle of the room.

PAT AND LESLIE

That was the beginning of it all. From seeing a tiny clearing in the trees to full ownership of a mountaintop took more time and effort than either Pat or Leslie had dreamed. Whenever he thought about it Pat laughed remembering how Leslie had won over the old man they had seen waving a stick at them that first day. He loved to tell the story of Weeks Mountain.

Wouldn’t you know… that old guy owned the whole property? Town folks called it Weeks Mountain. And old man Weeks didn’t want to sell. Didn’t want airplanes roaring overhead at all hours of the day and night. Leslie talked him into going for a walk and showing her his mountaintop. He made her a walking stick like his and took her up there! When they came back he’d agreed to sell to us. Just like that. If I ask her what she did to that old man, she just smiles her Mona Lisa smile and won’t tell me!

Doesn’t worry you? Bob Ryder asked as he pulled off a cowling.

Nah. She has to have some little secret, and as long as the old man agreed to sell, I could care less. He paused for a few moments. Then he looked up at Bob. Besides, I trust her.

JAKE WEEKS

Pat had simplified the whole thing a great deal by saying Leslie and Jake had taken one walk on the mountain and he was ready to sell to them. It actually took a number of walks on the mountaintop to finally convince old Mr. Weeks that it wasn’t going to be airplanes roaring overhead at all hours of the day or night.

It’s been a lifelong dream for Pat to have his own hangar. Leslie was following Mr. Weeks up the trail to the top of the mountain.

What’s he want such a big hangar fer anyway? Weeks asked as he stopped and sat on a boulder. His dark eyes seemed to bore into the very center of Leslie’s story.

He restores old World War II airplanes and puts them into top condition again. When he finishes with an airplane it looks brand new. You can hardly believe it came from an old war birds junk yard. Leslie was sitting on a fallen log. We’ve both always loved the country and the thought of Pat being able to do the work he loves in his own hangar and best of all, to be able to be away from the big city and out in such a beautiful spot, well… it’s almost too good to be true.

Humph! Weeks got to his feet and headed upward on the trail again. Leslie followed. There were no more rest stops or conversation until they reached the top. Leslie was breathing fast by that time.

I can see why you have that walking stick, Mr. Weeks. It just sort of propels you along, doesn’t it? You do well to make it up here so fast… and you are not even breathing hard like I am. You’ll have to let me in on your secret, she panted.

No secret. Just do it a lot. I walk up here every week.

I don’t blame you. It is absolutely beautiful. I’m surprised you haven’t built a home or a cabin or something so you could stay for more than a few hours.

Yeah, well… Weeks sighed. He was quiet for a few moments, looking off into the distance, some place far, far away.

I guess we can’t always do the things we want most to do… Leslie’s voice trailed off, too, into the cool mountain air.

They began walking again through the clearing.

Would ya like me to make ya one of these walkin’ sticks? Weeks asked suddenly.

Oh yes! That would be wonderful. But Mr. Weeks, that’s a lot of work and I don’t want to put you out.

Wouldn’t be puttin’ me out. Let’s look around to see if we can find a branch up here that will make a good start. Weeks began searching the entire top of the mountain for just the right piece of a tree. Eventually he found one that suited him. He snapped off the smaller branches and handed it to Leslie, Try this out goin’ back down the trail. If it feels right to ya, I’ll make it up. He hesitated a bit before asking, ‘Ya be comin’ up here next week?"

I’d love to come up here again, Mr. Weeks. It’s a date. Next Sunday afternoon.

The Sunday afternoon date gradually worked around to being a Monday afternoon date for the two of them. Throughout that time, Weeks got to know more about Leslie and Pat. Leslie got to know more about Jake Weeks and his granddaughter Amy. Leslie even met Amy one Monday afternoon when they were late getting down from their weekly climb.

This here’s my granddaughter Amy, Leslie. She’s a schoolteacher here in Glimmer. One a the best. He smiled at Amy as she came up to kiss him on the cheek.

Hi, Gramps. Stop bragging about me.

I don’t brag about nuthin’ that don’t rate braggin’ about, he countered.

I’m pleased to meet you, Amy. Leslie held out her hand.

Amy seemed not to notice the proffered hand, but she smiled as she linked her arm with her grandfathers and said, Come on, Gramps, we need to get on in the house. I have papers to correct. She turned and the two of them headed toward the back porch of the small house where they lived.

Leslie shrugged, but called out, I’ll see you next week. Jake raised a hand in acknowledgement and the two disappeared.

It’s not just Mr. Weeks I have to convince, Leslie muttered. That young lady was not exactly impolite, but she wasn’t altogether cordial either. She turned the ignition key of her little car.

The only thing wrong with Leslie’s ideas to convince Amy was that she was never given the opportunity to meet Amy or talk to her again. There was never a repeat of the chance meeting of that first week. Mr. Weeks trimmed and finished a beautiful walking stick for Leslie and the two of them hiked up to the top of Weeks Mountain every Monday afternoon. Leslie had many opportunities to explain all about Pat’s work with the planes and for Jake to understand that it wouldn’t be as if the airstrip they wanted to build would be a regular airport for any plane to land. It would just be him or his helper Bob Ryder flying in with supplies. It might mean, however, having to build a regular road out of what was now the trail the two of them walked every week. A road would be necessary in order to haul up supplies and plane parts.

Leslie overheard Weeks musing one day, Guess that wouldn’t be sa’ bad. Just the two fellas landin’ once in awhile. She felt encouraged.

We wouldn’t want to cut down any more trees than necessary to put in the runway and hangar, Leslie said.

Where would you and Pat live while he was workin’ up here? Weeks queried on one walk.

We could live in Glimmer, or maybe, if it was all right with you, we could build a little house for us up here, too. What would you think of that?

That sounds ‘bout right.

Gradually, gradually Leslie was coming to know Jake and he was beginning to understand Pat’s need for ownership of his own runway and hangar. Gradually, gradually Leslie was feeling she was making headway.

If ya owned my mountaintop, would ya keep it lookin’ nachrul like, not turn it inta big city stuff? Jake quizzed.

It is so beautiful up here, why would we want to change anything about it that wasn’t absolutely necessary?

As long as he could come up any time he wanted, to browse around, he said, as long as the natural beauty of the place was kept in tact, Jake felt he could let go. We got just one problem, Leslie… one big problem.

And what would that be?

Amy.

Amy. I was afraid of that.

A number of weeks later Leslie was formulating a contract. She saw to it that Jake’s requests for access and preserving the beauty were written in and the old man was happy. Mr. Weeks didn’t tell Leslie about the long scenes with his granddaughter, with Amy protesting the sale of Weeks Mountain so vehemently. Once he had felt good about making the sale to Pat and Leslie it took him a lot of heated arguments to convince Amy that it was a good thing.

Amy, ya know we don’t have… neither one of us… ‘nuf money to even build a shack up there on top a our mountain. Yer Grandma and me… we thought we’d just build a little gitaway place one time but we never had the money fer even that; we been durn lucky to be able to keep up with the taxes on it all. Can ‘cha see… this is the first time anybody wanted to have anything ta do with our mountain. That Halston fella has some good ideas on makin’ the place look good and still keepin’ it natchrul lookin’.

I don’t care how nice they want to make it. It’s always been Weeks Mountain and it’s been a quiet, peaceful place to go to get away from our troubles. Now it will be all noisy airplanes! I can’t understand you allowing any such thing to happen to our very own mountaintop.

We kin go up there an look at it any time we want, Amy. It’ud still be like our mountaintop. Besides… they’s good folks, Amy.

They’re being good folks has nothing to do with it.

Jake had given Amy a week to think. When the week was over he confronted her again. Nothing had changed. She just point blank refused to accept the idea of selling. Even with the thought of building a small place up there for the two of them. She wouldn’t want to live up there with those other people, she said.

Day after day the same conversations went on between Jake and his granddaughter. He repeated himself over and over. Amy held firm until one afternoon when their conversation had been particularly heated, she threw up her hands, Okay, Gramps. I give up. Do it. But I don’t approve. I never will.

LESLIE AND SUE

Leslie had convinced old Mr. Weeks that it wasn’t going to be airplanes roaring overhead at all hours of the day and night. Then as long as he could come up any time he wanted, he said, to browse around, as long as the natural beauty of the place was kept intact, he had agreed to the sale. Leslie saw to it that his requests were written into the contract and the old man was happy.

Leslie was elected to chase all over creation getting permits from the county to put in a landing strip and getting the specifications for an airport from the FAA.

Leslie and Sue Ryder had been good friends for years and it was natural for Leslie to enlist Sue’s help on all of the jaunts involved. The two women made it their mission and grew to love the mountains they found themselves in for many days at a time. They made an interesting looking pair; both Leslie and Sue were small in stature and frame, almost a pair of twins except that Leslie wore her black hair extremely short and Sue pulled her long blond hair back into a ponytail. One night after an exhausting day Sue lay sprawled on one of the beds in their motel room, shuffling through some of the papers they had collected during the day. Leslie, you know it says something here about permits for housing at the airport. Had you and Pat thought about living up here?

Truthfully, I thought we’d wind up living in Glimmer. It’s so close to the top of the mountain and there isn’t much space after you put in a runway.

If we cut down just a few of the trees I’m sure there’d be room for a row of houses on either side of the runway. Sue rolled over and sat up, Leslie! Are you listening? Maybe several others could live up here!

Leslie sat down on the edge of the bed toweling her damp hair and both girls studied the plot maps. "Yes! Maybe someone else besides us could live up here, too. If we sold lots it would help pay for the runway! Pat would love that idea. She got up suddenly and threw down her towel. Only thing is we can’t do that."

Can’t do that? Why not?

Because I promised Mr. Weeks.

What did you promise?

I promised him we would keep it natural looking and we had an understanding that only Pat and I might be building a house up here.

An understanding? Is it written in the contract?

No. But Mr. Weeks trusts me. I can’t betray that trust.

It was one evening more than a year later that the four friends were gathered around Halston’s dining room table in Los Altos poring over a huge drawing of Pat’s dream for his own airstrip and hangar on a mountaintop. Leslie had approached Mr. Weeks with the idea of their living on top of the mountain as well as Bob and Sue. In spite of Leslie’s ‘understanding’ with Mr. Weeks, Pat had outlined the airstrip runway and laid out five lots on each side of it for the homes of future residents, with a taxiway encircling the entire area with the plan that residents would use the taxiways for entrance to their homes by car.

Leslie spoke up, What are you going to name this place, Pat? It looks like it’s going to be a regular airpark. You’ll have to give it a name.

Pat looked up at his wife. Darned if I know. It’s just a bird’s nest right now, isn’t it?

How about ‘Eagles Nest?’ Bob suggested.

Too many ‘Eagles Nests’ all across the country. It would have to be something really different. Pat looked up at his wife.

I’ve been thinking about this for quite awhile, she said. Do you know what an ‘aerie’ is?

Not exactly. Something lingers in my mind… something like a bird cage?

No, that’s an aviary. I thought an aerie was the nest of a bird on a cliff or up someplace high.

I always thought an aerie had to do with birds of prey, Sue said.

Let’s look it up. Leslie stood up and was pulling a dictionary from the bookshelf. She flipped pages, running her finger down the columns of the book. "Aviary, aviate,