Astra: A Little Lift

Astra held up her paper plane.

“This one,” she told Pip, “will fly all the way to the bookcase.”

It flew all the way to her shoe.

At Harbour House, Astra liked looking after the younger girls. She passed pencils, found lost socks and made sure everyone got a turn. If something went wrong, she thought she ought to fix it.

She folded another plane. It hit the same shoe.

“Perhaps your shoe is an airport,” Pip suggested.

Astra tried not to laugh. She had promised a flying show, and so far it was more of a falling show.

Across the table, Juno was drawing a ticket for a toy bear.

“Does he get a refund?”

“He hasn't paid,” said Astra.

“He says that's lucky.”

Astra sighed at the crooked wings.

Pip moved her chair closer.

“Shall we try together?”

Astra nearly said she could manage. Then she looked at the little pile of planes.

“Yes, please.”

They set one flat on the table. One wing was bigger than the other.

“Like a bird with one enormous elbow,” Pip said.

Birds did have elbows, Astra thought, though probably not such badly folded ones.

They made the wings match more closely. Then they tried a gentle throw.

The plane sailed past the shoe.

“Progress,” said Astra.

They changed one fold at a time, so they could see which change helped.

Can you picture its little path through the air?

At last it glided towards the bookcase and landed in a basket of scarves.

“Excellent,” Pip said. “A soft airport.”

The bear demanded another trip.

When Felix and Vivienne adopted the five friends, Astra brought the wonky plane to Skylock House.

She kept it because Pip had helped make it fly.

One day, Vivienne showed her a practice cockpit. It stayed firmly on the ground.

Astra climbed into the seat and stared.

“What does this do? What about that? Why are there so many switches?”

Vivienne smiled. “Good pilots start with questions.”

Astra counted seven more before lunch.

Learning was fun. Belonging wasn't a prize for being good at it. On days when Astra wanted to read instead, her place at the table was just the same.

Sometimes Felix sat in the practice cockpit too.

“Captain,” he would announce, “permission to find the biscuit tin?”

“Permission granted,” Astra said. “Please check behind your mug first.”

Years passed. Astra learnt how air helped wings lift an aircraft. She studied clouds and wind, checked equipment and practised landings with trained grown-ups beside her.

Some landings were smooth.

Some made her say, “Let's do that again.”

Her aircraft, Skylark, had coral and teal paint, clever tilting wings and equipment for careful rescues. It did not make its pilot know everything.

Before each practice flight, Astra read her list.

One day she felt tired and tried to hurry.

Vivienne pointed to a line Astra had written herself.

“Take a break.”

“Oh,” said Astra. “A very bossy list.”

“Made by an excellent person.”

Astra rested, then asked Juno to check the equipment with her.

Two pairs of eyes spotted a loose strap that one tired pair had nearly missed.

They fixed it.

Astra's first mountain rescue came on a bright day with a gusty wind.

An adult climber was stranded beside a broad ledge. The path back had become unsafe. A rescue team was already speaking to him by radio.

Astra flew Skylark towards the mountain, with Vivienne helping coordinate from home.

From a distance, the nearest landing patch looked fine.

Closer in, loose stones skittered across it.

Astra's hands tightened.

She wanted to help quickly. She also knew that wanting wasn't the same as being ready.

“One calm step at a time,” she said.

Try one gentle breath with her.

“Team, can you help me check another landing place?”

Pip checked the map. Vivienne checked the changing wind. Together they found a wider, sheltered patch beside the climber.

Astra turned Skylark towards it.

She watched the instruments, listened to her team and set Skylark down gently.

This landing was much better than the paper plane's first attempt.

The trained rescue crew helped the climber aboard and checked his seat belt.

“Hop in,” Astra said. “We'll get you home.”

“Well,” he replied, “this beats walking.”

“Skylark has fewer muddy puddles,” Astra agreed.

Back at Skylock House, the sisters met her in the kitchen. Someone had made cinnamon toast.

“Did you do the whole rescue by yourself?” Pip asked.

“No,” Astra said. “I asked for help.”

Pip gave a satisfied nod, as if this was exactly what a good captain ought to say.

Later, Astra put the old paper plane beside her flight notebook.

One wing was still a little wonky.

She liked it that way.

It reminded her how she'd learnt to fly.