“Good girl! Scientists say they used to be part of the mainland, thousands of years ago. Now, from the air, they look so close it seems as though a kid could jump across. I always explain that we can fly over the Little Diomede, barely, but just an edge over the Big Diomede and we get shot at. That always rates a screech from the women passengers. And when I say that that black shore line just beyond is the coast of Siberia the passengers say Siberia! Like a bad word. Most tourists never even heard of the Diomedes, or realize that Russian territory is really right up against us Americans in Alaska.”

She was disappointed. He was talking too much. Then, even as she thought this, he said, “I’m talking too much.”

“Oh, no.”

“Do you know why? Because I’ve hoped you’d get on one of my planes. And today you did. And now I’m shock-happy. Look, do you want to take the controls for a minute? Nothing can happen, I’m right here, you might get a kick out of it.”

Momentarily embarrassed, she stared at him, and in the next moment a look of awful realization darkened the brilliance of his vivid face. He covered his eyes with his hand. “Oh, God. I just remembered. I heard. You’ve logged about a billion miles and they’ll give you your license next year when you’re out of diapers. And you didn’t even stop me.”

“I was interested, really.”

“You were enjoying it.”

“But I haven’t seen the Diomedes, and I do want to see them, and it’s fun to talk to you again.”

“And you let me sit there blabbing. Oh,” he muttered, “this is the instrument panel it used to be called the dashboard do you enjoy flying Miss Storm you get the real feel of a plane up here. Pardon me while I break a window and bail out.”

They began to laugh then in a whoop of exuberance. He reached over and for a moment covered her hand with his.

“How long are you going to be in Suewok?”

“Just a day and a night, I think. Two days at the most. Grampa has to load up for the trip to the fishing grounds. I’m supposed to stay at the cannery, Grampa wants me to see it, but he won’t stay there, he’s feuding with the cannery crowd. I feel sort of funny about staying there.”

“Just you relax and do as he says. He’s a great old boy. He’s the most outstanding man in Alaska.”

“I think so, too. Most people think Grampa Kennedy.”

“You lead a kind of double life, don’t you?”

“Do I? Anyway, I’ve loved it.” She edged her way out of the seat. “Thanks for the scenery.”

“Look, when are you taking off for Oogruk? Maybe I can wangle the flight if I know the date.”

“It may not be this summer at all. Grampa might put it off until next year.”