My Pilot
“More coffee Mr. Johnston?” Julia asked as she made her rounds with coffee pot in hand and menus under arm. The old man tore his attention from the people shuffling about beyond the barrier of the window pane to the cute, young waitress decked out in her homely, red work attire. He peered into his cup, “Nah Jules, I think I’m fine.” His lips curled under his grey, scruffy mustache, “Thanks though.”
She returned the smile and headed back behind the diner counter, her dark hair swaying slightly in her pulled up pony tail as she walked. “Just tell me if you need anything else, alright?”
“Sure thing Jules.” The old man’s gaze fell upon the world outside once more, allowing himself to drift back into his thoughtful silence.
Julia picked up the abandoned, almost-emptied breakfast plates from the counter, stacking them one after another on her arm. As she filled her arms with as many plates as she could manage, she pushed through the swinging doors with her back entering the kitchen area first. The cook behind the sizzling grill caught her eye in his grease-stained white wife-beater. “Oh, hey Jesse. Mel really liked his burger today.” Jesse turned, and recognizing his favorite waitress flashed a big smile. “Oh good, I made that one extra special. It’s his birthday today you know?”
“Yea I know,” Julia said giggling. “I’m the one who told you, remember?”
“Oh yea… that must have been how I remembered,” Jesse chuckled, flashing her another dimpled smile.
Julia made her way back to the sinks and piled the soiled dishes in a neat pile. She ran some water over them briefly so they’d be easier to clean later during the dead hours before lunch. Jesse called back to her, “So, what are you doing this weekend?”
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a guy from my class who’s been asking me to go out with him for awhile. I may do that.” As Julia reentered the kitchen area where Jesse was standing, he was turned back toward the grill scraping the stuck-on hardened grease chunks from its surface. “So, do you like him?”
“Not particularly. I like another guy, but he won’t seem to get the hint to ask me out,” Julia said playfully.
“Do I know this idiot?” Jesse said, turning slightly to read Julia’s expression.
Julia smirked. “Maybe.”
Julia pushed half way through the swinging door when Jesse said, “So, what are you doing later tonight?” Julia stopped. Her heart beat loud enough that she thought it was audible for Jesse to hear in her hesitation. Is he serious? Is he asking me out or is this just an innocent friend-to-friend question? She’d known Jesse for the last year, since she started working at the diner. The night they were introduced, she was seduced by his baby blues and his muscular-outlined arms. He was a man. He was three years older than she and she couldn’t help but have dreams about him almost every night. While in class, she couldn’t control her hand when it doodled his name with squiggly hearts around it. While all of her other friends who had jobs complained about all the work they were going to have to do, Julia couldn’t help but be excited that she’d get to see Jesse for a few more hours. She’d been waiting for him to ask her out for almost a year, but decided he probably didn’t like her in “that” way if he hadn’t made a move yet. She’d accepted this, but her crush didn’t halt. She still got butterflies every time their hands brushed and she couldn’t help but return his flirtatious smiles.
“Uh, I don’t have any plans.”
“Well, I get done crop dustin’ around 6, so how bout I pick you up about seven?”
Flabbergasted, Julia stuttered, “uh, ukay.” She smiled dumbfounded.
Another smile stretched across Jesse’s face as he nodded his head slightly. “Okay.” He turned back to his grill and pulled down the last late breakfast ticket. Julia slipped out the door and couldn’t help curling into the curvature behind the counter, out of sight of Jesse but fully in view to the few restaurant customers still sipping the remainder of their coffee; she squealed quietly with glee and couldn’t help but jump up and down a few times. She knew that she and Jesse would be perfect for each other, if only they were given the opportunity. And this was that opportunity! Seven o’clock. She peered up at the large clock on the opposite wall. Only eight more hours and twenty-eight minutes to go.
A few hours passed before Chuck, the over-sized, middle-aged cook who needed no help from the fryer to be greasy, took over for Jesse. This was the norm for Saturdays. Jesse always took off around one so he could do the crop dusting for his parents since his father had fallen ill a few months earlier. Julia always hated to see him pick up his denim jacket and pull on his light blue cap to say goodbye. But today was different; she was going to see him later tonight. As the bell jingled atop the entrance door, Jesse looked back over his shoulder to Julia who was trying to keep herself preoccupied with the bills collected from the breakfast and lunch services.
“Pick ya up at seven Jules.”
Julia looked up and waved. She smiled. “See you at seven.”
The hours seemed to pass slower than usual. The clock ticked the seconds away as if they were hours in themselves. Usually so light on her feet and at ease when taking food orders, Julia was unusually flustered and her hand couldn’t help but tremble when she put pen to paper or handed out hot food plates. She even overfilled a water glass because her thoughts were flying in every which direction instead of the task at hand. Finally, five o’clock came. Hurriedly, she put on her navy blue jacket and picked up her brown handbag from the back room.
“See ya later Jules!” Chuck called from the kitchen.
“See ya Chuck.”
Julia pushed through the door, marking her exit by the jingling bells atop the door. The sun was just setting behind the hill, giving off a soft yellow hue. Julia breathed in a deep breath and exhaled in an audible sigh. This was the day she’d been waiting for for the last year. She couldn’t believe he’d finally asked her out. With the thought of Jesse’s cute smirk in mind, she smiled a little and set off in the direction of the bus stop.
After a block of walking, she sat down on the little brown bench. Her mind kept wandering. What am I going to wear? What if he doesn’t like me and he just wants to hang out as friends? Will he kiss me tonight? As the bus pulled up, she was surprised considering it seemed like she spent less time sitting there than she usually had to. She boarded the bus and put her few coins into the slot.
“Ev’nin’ Jules.”
Julia glanced at the familiar face. “Oh, good evening Maury. How’s the shift tonight?”
“Oh, same ol’ same ol’.”
Julia made her way back to her usual seat, seeing that all the usual suspects were seated in their normal spots as well. She peered out the window to discourage any small talk with the other passengers. She didn’t want to talk, she wanted to think. About Jesse. The ten minute ride home seemed short too. As the bus lurched, she was called to attention by the bus driver. “Hey Jules, it’s yer stop.”
Taking a moment to gather her things, Julia exited the bus and entered the moderately lit house. Her father must still be asleep. As she turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, she tip-toed into the quiet house making sure to avoid stepping on the third, ninth and twelfth steps up the stairs, those being the ones that creaked loudest. She took her jacket off and put it and her bag on the floor in the hall outside the bathroom. She peered into the mirror to see her hair a little disheveled and her outfit merely subpar with the addition of the ketchup stain on the bottom half of her homely checkered apron. She thought aloud, “Why would he ask me out when there are so many other girls he could go out with? I look like a mess.” She got closer to the mirror and inspected the small imperfections on her face. She let out a discontented “Hm” and turned the hot water knob. She cupped the water in her hands and bowed her head to splash the warm water on her face. After patting her face dry, she looked back in the mirror. “Better,” she said in a mediocre tone.
Julia headed towards her room. She looked down at her watch. Five forty-five. “Alright, I’ve got time,” she said softly to herself. She sifted through her closet. There was only one outfit fit for the night with the man she’d only dreamed of going on a date with for the past year. She pulled the cotton red dress from the hanger. She fingered the soft texture and laid it on the bed. Julia pulled her worn work outfit over her head and dropped it on the floor. She unzipped the back of the never-been-worn, bought-just-for-a-special-occasion dress and slipped her arms into the arm holes. The dress fit more perfect than any other item of clothing she owned. She zipped the back and pushed out the creases.
Julia made her way back into the bathroom. She pulled out the black band that held her hair up in a ponytail and ran her fingers through a few times. She then reached into one of her drawers and retrieved her tube of lipstick, mascara and blush. She applied them sparingly, trying to maintain the naturalness of her features. She rarely wore make-up, but saw the other girls in her class put on too much, making them look more like clowns than the sex goddesses they were striving to be. After she put on the finishes touches of rouge on her cheeks, she peered at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look bad – perhaps even pretty. She stared at herself for awhile, smiling, imagining that Jesse was the one receiving that smile. She ran back to her room, it being six forty-five now, and picked up her ballet flats. She tip-toed back down the stairs, accidentally putting pressure on the ninth step which gave way to a loud “creeeeeeak.”
She stopped short to listen if her father was now stirring, but after no changes Julia crept down the remainder of the steps. She ran to the window to see if perhaps he decided to arrive a few minutes early, but there were no sign of lights so she pulled the shades back to their initial position. Her stomach let out a loud gurgle of protest. She gripped it, trying to make the roars stop. Well I don’t want that happening when I’m with him. That’s just plain embarrassing. He’s probably going to take me to eat though. She hesitated for a moment but concluded that a small snack wouldn’t hurt. After rummaging through the cabinets, she decided to settle on a cookie. She seated herself at the dining room table where she now had a clear view of the front yard. As she began nibbling at her cookie, she glanced up at the wall clock which now showed two after seven. Well, Jesse would be fashionably late.
Julia ate her cookie slowly, nibbling at every bit until she only had a few crumbs left on the table. She glanced up at the clock. Half an hour past. She began picking up the crumbs one by one with her finger. The time passed slow, even slower than it had earlier at the diner. Where is he?
After an hour past, Julia got up and began tracing the design on the linoleum with her ballet flats. As she traced, she couldn’t help but look outside to see if there were headlights in front of her house. No such luck. After the third time of tracing the span of the kitchen and dining room, she glanced back up at the clock. Fifteen til nine. Julia sat back in her chair, elbows to table and face cupped in hands. She tried not to cry, but couldn’t help herself. I can’t believe he stood me up. I guess he really wasn’t asking me out on a date. He was just messing with me. I really thought we could have had something amazing. I thought he was my one – my prince charming, perhaps even my soul mate. I’ve never felt about anybody the way I feel about Jesse. How could he have let me down? A small tear protruded from the side of her eye, falling down on the table. She noticed that in her tear there were tiny flecks of black. She moved her hand over her cheek to find a black smudge. “Oh great, now my mascara’s running.”
Julia got up and entered the bathroom next to the kitchen. She grabbed a towel and dabbed her eyes. The mirror showed a more put-together Julia than who had just come in. She took a deep breath and reentered the dining room. She sat in her chair and lay her head on her arm, facing the large clock which now read nine o’clock. She watched as each second tick, tick, ticked until she became unaware of what time it was completely. Her eyes began to droop and all remained silent until she heard a loud “Ring-Ring-Ring-Ring.”
Julia’s head shot up, looking about. “Ring-Ring-Ring-Ring.” Julia pushed her chair back and ran toward the wall-mounted phone.
“Erm, hello?”
“Jules, did you hear?”
“Hear what? What time is it?” Julia looked up at the clock. Six. In the morning.
“Jules, it’s about Jesse.”
Julia’s eyes got wide. Oh the nerve of Jesse making such a fool of her! She spent the night at her dining room table because of him! This was probably why Jodie was calling her, to tell her the whole world knew how humiliated she was going to be when they found out. “Ooh that Jesse! When I get my hands on him, I swear I’ll—”
“Jules, Jesse’s dead.”
Julia stopped. Her head felt suddenly very light and began spinning. These words stung worse than anything Jodie could have said to her. “Uh, uh, are you sure?” Julia’s feet slid beneath her as she slipped to the floor. She felt like she had no control over her movements any longer. It was a wonder that her hand kept the phone to her ear.
“Jules, I’m so sorry. I know how you felt about him. Old man Marster told me he crashed his crop duster yesterday and died from the impact.”
Julia was too overwhelmed to fathom this large hole that was now building around her heart. Tears began streaming down her face; she began letting out short gasps between her crying fits. Her head seemed like a balloon floating above her body.
“Jules are you alright?”
Julia began letting out irrational gasps. “Didn’t—stand—me up.” She let out an uncontrolled sound between a laugh, a cry and a gasp. “I—love—him—so much. I—think—‘s—my—soul mate, Jod.”
“I know sweetie.”
“’s—my—pilot. Mine.” Her arm suddenly became weak and fell to the floor with the phone in it.
She could faintly hear the distant voice. “Jules? Are you there?”
Julia stared straight in front of her, imagining Jesse’s dimpled smile. “Mine,” she said. “My pilot.”
I think one of the most interesting things about O'Conner's "A Good Man is Hard to Find" is the fact that the grandmother in the story tries to convince The Misfit that he is a good man and that he would never shoot a lady. It seems that as she continuously pleads with him, her family diminishes in droves by gender as they keep getting picked off by The Misfit's cronies back in the near-by woods. She seems more focused on saving her own life than becoming fully aware that her relatives are dying.
