Wings in the Balance

The sun dipped low over the Tulare airfield, casting shadows that stretched long and thin across the tarmac. The heat shimmered, distorting the lines of hangars and planes. Will Thomas wiped sweat from his brow, but the heat wasn’t what weighed him down—it was the lie he carried. His fingers twitched, craving the feel of the cockpit’s controls, the only place that offered any sense of ease.

His boots crunched over gravel as he made his way to the Stearman biplane. Nearby, the clang of wrenches and the murmur of mechanics filled the air. Sweat trickled down his neck, soaking his shirt beneath his flight jacket. Ahead, Charlie Bennett leaned against his plane, grinning like a man with a secret.

And Will knew he had one.

Charlie strolled over, boots scuffing the dirt. That grin widened, and something about it made Will’s skin crawl. “Ready for another flight, Tommy?” he asked, the name stretching like a joke. “Or is it ‘Will’?”

Will forced a smile. “I don’t know what that means.” His pulse pounded, but he couldn’t show it. Not now. Not ever. He turned his attention to the plane, checking it though the mechanics had already combed through it a hundred times. Why did they have to run into Billie Tolliver of all people, during R&R at the beach over the weekend? Billie was the biggest blabbermouth in his home town—except for maybe Billie’s sister Janie, but he wasn’t about to run into her on an Air Force base on the way to war…

The truth burned in his chest. He wasn’t Tommy. He wasn’t 18. He was 16–too young to be here. He was standing in for his old brother, too “touched” and soft for war. If Charlie—or anyone—discovered the lie, it’d be over. And not just for him. Tommy would be forced to fight, and war would devour him. Tommy wasn’t very smart, but he was Will’s favorite person and Will understood inherently that brothers look after each other. The day Tommy’s papers came in the mail, the whole family understood what Will had to do.

Will climbed into the cockpit, the familiar smells of oil and leather filling his lungs. He pulled down his goggles, flicked on the radio, and the world shrank to just him, the controls, and Captain Mulcready’s voice crackling in his ear.

“Cadets, tighten up your turns today. Precision’s everything. One mistake, you lose your wings—or worse.”

Will’s grip tightened. There was no room for error.

The engine roared to life, the plane vibrating beneath him. He eased the throttle, the Stearman lurching down the runway before lifting into the air. Wind from his cockpit fan whipped his face, cooling the sweat as the ground fell away.

Up here, the heat seemed distant, the pressure just as heavy. His mind raced through the checklist—altitude, speed, wing angle. He had to be perfect. The fields and desert blurred below as he leveled at 3,000 feet.

The radio hissed. “Tight turns. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Will banked left, the plane tilting sharply. The wind howled past the wings, his breath shallow, muscles taut. The horizon spun, the earth below a streak of brown and gold. He blinked away sweat and held his focus.

Behind him, Charlie’s plane loomed like a shadow. Will caught a glimpse of it, yellow wings gleaming, before Charlie slid beside him. He could see the grin behind the cockpit glass.

“Can you keep up, Will?” Charlie’s voice crackled with smugness. “Because I’m just getting started.”

Will’s jaw clenched. His hands tightened on the stick as he pushed the plane harder into another turn, sharper this time. Charlie had used his real name! The engine groaned, wings creaking under the strain, but the Stearman held. The ground spun beneath him, a dizzying blur.

Charlie wasn’t backing off. His plane closed in, too close. Will could feel the threat, hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. Charlie was testing him, waiting for him to falter.

But Will couldn’t falter. Not if he wanted to protect his secret.

“Formation, prepare for final drills,” Captain Mulcready’s voice cut through the radio. “Solo flyers, return to base.”

Will’s chest tightened. This was the final test. He took a deep breath, leveling off as he prepared for descent. The horizon wavered in the heat, but he forced himself to focus.

The tarmac loomed ahead. Will guided the plane down, the wheels bouncing gently on the runway. He exhaled, but the danger wasn’t gone.

Charlie landed a moment later, that grin still in place. Will could feel the tension coiling in his gut as he climbed out of the cockpit, his legs shaky. Charlie was already leaning against his plane, waiting, like a predator toying with its prey.

“That landing was rough, Will,” Charlie said, low enough so only Will could hear.

“Don’t call me that” Will said. “Leave me alone” He remained calm on the outside, but inside, the name hit like a blow. He couldn’t show it though. There were too many eyes around. He couldn’t afford a reaction.

“It’s your name, Right? isn’t that what that kid called you in San Diego?” Charlie taunted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Will said, voice tight but controlled.

Charlie’s grin darkened. “I think you do. You’ve been flying well, but not well enough to keep a secret like that.”

Will’s pulse hammered. The hangar felt too small, the air too thick. He couldn’t let this unravel. “I suggest you drop it,” he said, voice low and firm. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

Charlie chuckled softly. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m playing with.”

The tension between them thickened. Will’s fists unclenched as he pushed past, the weight of what Charlie held over him pressing harder than ever. One wrong move, and his life—and Tommy’s life—would shatter.

Later, back in the air for final drills, Will’s hands shook. He forced the plane through each maneuver with precision, ignoring the fear gnawing at his gut.

Then came the sputter.

Charlie’s plane jerked, engine stuttering. Will glanced over just in time to see panic flash across Charlie’s face. Panic was not going to help. It was a fighter pilot’s worst enemy and most opportunistic companion.

For a second, Will hesitated. He could let it happen—let Charlie crash, let the problem solve itself.

But his hands moved on instinct and training. He pulled alongside Charlie. “Ease up, Bennett!” Will barked. “We’re taking this slow. Follow my lead. We’re gonna’ do this together—real slow-like. By the book.”

Across, from him, through the cockpit canopy, Will could see Charlie nod. He understood.

Charlie’s plane jerked again, but he held steady, falling into formation. “Easy, does it, Charlie. Light on the choke. Just like they taught us in dead stick training. I’m right here with you.”

Charlie regained control of his faltering plane. Will continued to talk Charlie through the procedures, calmly, one by one, slowly, while mimicking the same procedures to stay right on his fellow airman’s wing. Together, they descended, a few feet at a time, ticking off mile by mile until finally the airfield came back into view and the pair landed safely side by side, touching down with a rough jolt.

Will’s hands trembled as he pulled off his goggles, adrenaline pumping. Charlie staggered out of his plane, pale, shaken.

“You saved my ass,” Charlie muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Will shrugged. “Didn’t want you to crash. It would have spoiled the whole runway for the rest of us.”

Charlie managed a weak grin and then he turned serious. “I don’t know the whole story, but… whatever you’re doing, I get it. We’re good. I wish I had a brother as brave as you.”

Charlie clapped Will firmly on the back “We’re good—Tommy.”

Relief washed over Will. The weight eased. For now, his secret was safe.

For the first time in weeks, he could finally breathe.