adventurous? you've got the wrong girl, mister. you should know that by now. her eyes study him. assessing something as he pours himself four fingers. that why i get so many chances to not do it? he thought i hated him. he never knew i was fascinated. i figured he'd be pompous. her eye travels over the stack of books. adventurers, explorers, celebrities. on an end table, a framed photo of george with the great lindbergh. a pretty secretary comes to summon her. amelia rises, smooths the wrinkles from her brown suit. they head down the corridor. i knew, of course, that he wasn't going to choose me. i had no discernible qualifications whatsoever. they reach the door, already ajar. it says george palmer putnam on a small bronze plate. the secretary gingerly pushes it open. . revealing george on the phone in crisp shirtsleeves and suspenders. he paces, prowls, trailing the cord behind him, negotiating non-stop even as he flips through a pile of messages. off again, stalking the room. dashing, electric, masterful. but to be rejected by this. parasite. a man who had given up any life of his own to flutter near the famous. he glances up, realizing for the first time that she is there. sit, please. but she doesn't. i didn't know whether to laugh or throw something at the jerk. he gestures again, more commandingly. sit. she doesn't move, she doesn't smile. she doesn't take her steady gaze from him. he hangs up the phone. they stare at each other for a frozen beat. he breaks the moment with a charming smile. mr. putnam? george i asked you to sit. was that the thing you did with your hand? sadly, i don't speak dog. his smile now only a trace. but more genuine. i do. i'll make it. always nice to know what the real attraction is. his smile. beginning to enjoy this conversation. why would that matter? was that your advice? except for the part that goes to you. you said she wants a flyer. why would anyone want a book from a passenger? good for my chances, you said. what are my chan. you're a busy man, mr. putnam. i can find my way. the look holds. he shrugs. you probably can. fine. what have i done? she watches his smile. i didn't mind waiting. caught up on my reading. knitted a sweater. we. spoken like a gentleman. she steps up onto the train. extends her hand like a man. he shakes it firmly. the train begins to move. she watches his cheery wave as she rolls away. of course a gentleman. would have paid for my ticket. courage is the price that life exacts for granting peace we superimpose over her image the wall of a little girl's bedroom, filled with treasured newspaper clippings about women doctors, officials, bank presidents, women who had established themselves in positions previously thought to be available only to men. the soul that knows it not knows no release from little things as the little red airplane passed by, it said something to me. amelia beams. she fills her lungs, transported. i don't think i've ever stopped listening. hold on her, hair and uniform whipping in the breeze. i even had my own plane. bought with my last dime. at the apex of her climb, she flips into a breathtaking loop the loop, as. course in the early days of flying. . her engine sputters. then stalls. the plane dips into a tail-spin, plunging downward. crashing was so common, you almost forgot it could kill you. amelia struggling to start the engine, the little plane hurtling toward earth, spinning as it goes. until it did. the engine coughs to life and at the last second she swoops harrowingly above the ground to soar free. almost. got it. i think. you're just in time. alice has come through the looking glass, and things are getting, well. they are, actually. she pats the grass beside her. sam has no choice but to sit. has to be. competition, you know. millionaire heiresses, hot shot girl pilots. if george knew i told you, he'd have me publicly flogged. so long as he could sell tickets. he's not smiling. marion. she's giving me a leave of absence. specially if i don't make it. well, i'll have impressive credentials as a long-distance passenger. that's not exactly a career in aviation. she looks up at his eyes. you do love to look on the dark side. whatever did you see in a sunny character like me? she gives him a sweet playful smile. it doesn't reassure him. what love means to you. what it requires. is the pressure. he stops walking. the problem is what it's always been. the problem is me. george had told me stultz was adm. byrd's favorite pilot, fearless, gifted. he drank. but george said it never affected his work. george waves as we approach. bill and amelia seem locked on each other. when he said it, i must have had a funny look. so i just said, `yeh, i grew up around a guy like that.' we felt `commander' was less grandiose than, say, `empress.' bill doesn't smile. the other man does. hmmn. what does that do to our fuel? i wonder if it can keep them up there. not that i've ever had enough to try. sorry. i'll try keeping my mouth shut. careful. i could get to like it. no reaction from him. he hops into the boat. turns, holds out his hand. she hesitates. clearly doesn't need his help to jump into a boat. their eyes lock. we are watching her decide. and then. she reaches to clasp his hand. hops down beside him. thank you, simpkin. thank you for everything. it's in a book. oh, that's right. you read the ones you publish. her smile is friendly, not flirtatious. she goes to sit in the bow. he doesn't follow. but he is watching. there's a beatrix potter story about a cat named simpkin. pull back to see the photographer, george beside him. they are on a hotel rooftop, precariously high above boston. he wasn't happy unless he had several mice, each under a different teacup. so he could never become bored. we see that amelia's pose looks exactly the same as a photo of charles lindbergh in the photographer's hand. it is labeled `lucky lindy.' the illusion of activity was essential for him to feel at peace. the photographer now shows george another photo of lindbergh in a different pose. what are you boys doing over there? oh god, is it worth the effort? he cocks his head, studies her. nah, guess not. valentino's not available? he shakes his head sadly. adjusts her collar once more. this time, his hands linger. two things. one, chaplin can't play me because he's perfect for you. and two, you have company. she glances to where a woman, beautiful and aristocratic, is being helped onto the roof. george's face lights to see her. he rushes over, sweeps her into his arms, kisses her tenderly. amelia smiles to see this, makes her like them both. popping off letters. for my dad, my mom, my sis. you know. in case. who else? if i do pop off, it's your fault. said in her sunny way. but she's not kidding. it takes a beat before he can offer. sam will handle that. they trust him. that registers. have you. but why is he you? oh. so you haven't actually read it. do you actually read? well. see ya. she walks off down the dock toward the friendship. e stands watching her go. our first hop was to canada, to start from as close as we could get to ireland. just in case we couldn't get the thing in the air and had to row. she walks briskly down the corridor. the fuel was going to be so close, every single mile counted. turns a corner. approaches the dining room door. george told me to keep to my room, just in case there was a reporter or two somewhere. she enters the hotel dining room. stops cold. across the room a disgruntled bill and a sheepish slim stare at her from their breakfast, surrounded by 15 reporters and photographers. holy shit. half a dozen cameras rise as one. it is a defining moment. and amelia. cocks her head. throws an effortless golden smile. hi there, boys. how are the ham and eggs? the flashes explode as one. they keep popping as amelia makes her way to them. now why would a famous gal like mabel give a thought to someone like me? i don't have a single sweater made out of gold. the boys roar, slim louder than anyone. even bill cracks a smile. they're shouting, teasing, you can't kid us! hey, not even silver. the boys make room. bill rises to hold amelia's chair. a friendly murmur. time to fly. get up, get dressed, we're going now. she is calm and angry at once. a powerful combination. slim pulls his pants off a chair. great. maybe mabel will think so, too. because if she doesn't, she's going to paris and you're going home. today. it's fine, there's a tail wind all the way, we'll off-load to 700 gallons, which gets us off the water and the wind gets us to ireland. but this is the day mabel's ready, so we're going now. the weather is going to get better and we'll be there to enjoy it. just as serious as you're hung over. you go now, get the late weather, we'll meet you at the plane. go. now! slim pulls on his shoes, grabs his jacket, his bag. looks to bill, but the pilot is glaring at his commander. i've loved one person unconditionally, bill. he is the most caring and generous and charming and flat-out funny guy i'll ever know. he's my father. her eyes are burning with this. and bill keeps quiet. anyone would. he's a drunk. and he's let me down all my life. she leans closer. now you get out of that bed. and you fly that god-damned thing to ireland. or i swear to you, bill. just above a whisper. i swear to you i will. or die trying. and either way. you're going to be living with it. good. slim, start the engines. she still hasn't given the paper to bill. slim steps onto a pontoon. starts cranking up the propellers. as the engine kicks to life. you signed a contract. you've got a direct instruction from me to go. that report indicates some degree of risk and it's a risk i'm taking. thanks. she motions to slim, get on board. the navigator grins, starts to climb up, looking back at bill. read tomorrow's papers, bill. we'll both be in them. and disappears. alone on the dock, bill hears the engines rev. jesus, god, she's going to do it. he takes a step toward the plane, but her head appears in the hatch. so, to take off, you pull back on the thing, right? her perfectly straight, innocent face. he busts out laughing. this fucking girl. you okay? dearest dad. hooray for the last grand adventure. i wish i had won, but it was worthwhile anyway. you know that. i have no faith we'll meet anywhere again, but i wish we might. hold on the gray eyes. dissolve to. later. amelia at the window, still opaque with fog. suddenly, the plane swoops down toward a clearing in the clouds. there to the south, a freighter running across our path. no land in sight. how far to land? the boys are studying the freighter. western union, special delivery. bill has to smile. are you serious? as a heart attack. okay, he tries to get closer to the ship, but we're jerked and buffeted as we swing past and amelia. . drops the orange toward the freighter, watching the heavy winds carry it two hundred yards wide of the mark. our three stare grimly. if we land near them, we've got a out of gas. may have to swim for oh, yeh. very important man. more important than any of us. really? yep. public relations. goes back to work. dissolve to. later. amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her feet from the hatch. alone. hear the buzz of. . a plane dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the water on its pontoons. she stares at it. gathers up her things. later. amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the friendship in distance. she is being rowed to shore. our view is over the back of the man rowing. amelia is staring past him, vaguely apprehensive. reverse angle. she's looking at two thousand welshmen swarming the docks. you can't even see the sand. the crowd is silent and staring. no cheers. as if they were staring at an alien or an animal in the zoo. bill and slim help pull the dinghy to the rocky shore. but when amelia jumps out, the crowd. no, really, this is very sweet, it's an honor. i'm actually enjoying it. hullo, hilton. railey stands back as flashbulbs catch the moment. he's brought photographers with him. and more. i believe you've come for these. both men regard the pages as if they were gold bullion. come for these indeed. i was a passenger on this journey. just a passenger. everything that was done to bring us across was done by wilmer stultz and slim gordon. all the praise. this flight was solely to the credit of bill and slim. women should know, however, that i have had 500 hours solo flying and once held the women's altitude record. this particular flight, under these conditions, i wonder if anyone but bill stultz could have pulled it off. but certainly, one day a woman will do this. as easily, as skillfully, as professionally as any man. such calm self-possession. such confidence in that. aviation is clear today for the pioneer. and if the pioneer has good ideas nobody will ask whether p the pioneer is a man or woman. olite applause. mostly from women. she looks around the room. i hear your doubt. that doubt is our challenge. this is where our atlantic flight, or any other good flight by a woman can help. she nods. to them, to herself. it starts women thinking. guess you can burn those letters. dorothy wonders. letters? the book's yours. the letters are mine. he smiles. bows in submission. barely enough for one. a battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade. well, being a social worker by trade and passion, i'll be going back to work at denison house when all this fun is over. she sends the guy a smile, and a dozen flashes catch it. if i haven't been fired. george holds the door of their limo. she looks up to him with a mischievous smile. and with no warning. . amelia bypasses the limo, climbs into the sidecar of a cop's motorcycle, and smacks its side. the cop looks up to george, who. . nods, go for it. and the cop does, wheeling out into traffic, opening up the siren, as everyone laughs or cheers or darts into the street desperate for a fleeting photo. george watching her go. dorothy watching george. so they took me home with them to rye. and i lived there, while i wrote my book. pull back to see our view has been george's. he sits at an antique writing desk, watching her through a picture window. he rises slowly. we see that he has been reviewing a contract, which he takes with him. i thought he'd be a tyrant and that i would have to manage him. he smiles as he approaches. she goes back to work. instead he was kind and generous. and only picked the fights he needed to win. he drops the contract on her table. she looks at it. what does it say? `i don't smoke but you should?' true and misleading. why would i sign that? i remember the first kiss. it is only one step. her hand goes to his chest. her eyes close, as. she brings her mouth to his. tender and strong. and deep. it is an act of decision. a held look. no one smiles. we hear her name announced from the podium. but she keeps looking at him. and as the applause continues, she finally. . turns. strides onto the stage, with one graceful wave, she brings the applause to a crescendo. of course, i knew all the stories but i didn't kiss him because i felt sorry for him. or because it would mean the world to him. intercut. george in the wings. his heart in his eyes. i did it. because i wanted to. he looks down. he's still holding her cards. it's so good to meet you. i've been following your career with a great deal of admiration. feel like a drink? relax, george. i meant a coke. as she leads elinor into the sitting room of their suite, the girl's eye falls on the door to the bedroom. it is slightly ajar, revealing an unmade double bed. unseen by the others, the kid reacts. oh, my. all depends. on whether you want the sell or the real. well, good for you! i would have expected nothing less. you want a tip? keep doing what you're doing. the girl nods, seriously. okay. for a long, long time. i can't do that. i already love you. that's why i can't marry you. george well, that explains it. for a minute there, i thought you were stuck for an excuse. i know me. and you don't. not really. the day will come. when i will run away. and when it does. he stops her with a kiss. and when were you going to tell me? george never. i knew you'd go crazy. and i felt it needed to be done. she can scarcely believe this. what? you think i wanted it done, but just let you do the dirty work? because i'm no angel. business is competition and competition is rough, and i thank my stars that you're there making this life happen for me, but. but this is different. it is. if women are going to stab women in the back, then women are going nowhere. you did it because you love me. that stops him. and when we're married, you mustn't ever. now she stops. because his eyes are wide. what's the big shock? i thought you wanted to get married. full beat. well, then. his eyes moving over her face. you'll be destroyed. and part of me will, too. and i think we both know it. and yet. sometimes things happen that way. you're not better safe than sorry. tears stand in his eyes. he is so happy. i want you to understand i shall not hold you to any medieval code of faithfulness to me. nor shall i consider myself bound to you similarly. snow falling. absolute silence. if we can be honest i think the difficulties which may arise may best be avoided should you or i become interested deeply, or in passing, with anyone else. she gazes intently, her heart in her eyes. he never looks up. please let us not interfere with the other's work or play, nor let the world see our private joys or disagreements. and then. i will try to do my best in every way. and give you that part of me you know and seem to want. he folds the letter carefully. places it in his pocket. and smiles. hence, the article. ah. he nods. i'm thinking of doing it solo. would you mind? he butters his toast. i'm surprised you're all right with this. widen angle. george kneeling beside her. happily planting his own. mmm-hmmn. i was braced for the lecture. five years since lindbergh, no one's made it solo, so many of them died. he looks at her work. reaches over. starts packing the earth harder around her plant. she just watches, then. i was waiting to hear that i'm only doing this because i was just a passenger last time, and i'd rather die than go on living as a fraud. no one cracks a smile. it's like laurel and hardy in a food fight where each lets the other take his best shot. george i think luck has rules. and i try to respect them. my favorite is. she glances up. we make our own luck, you and i. remember that. he will remember that. and more. no. he pulls out a twenty dollar bill. hands it to her. all this? g thank god, i thought you were going to tear it in half. i put it in a letter. which you'll get if i don't make it. so. mixed emotions, huh? he shakes his head. george either way, something to look forward to. she puts her hands on his face. she doesn't want to leave him either. see ya. the weather report wasn't perfect. but we knew our real chance was to take weather that others wouldn't. ahead, towering clouds in moonlight. too high to fly over. i closed the deal by choosing may 20, five years to the day from lindbergh's flight. it was too good a sell for george to resist. 5 what we didn't know. was that my altimeter would conk out. never to return. the only way to have any sense of altitude, was to keep dropping toward the sea. i was too busy to grasp how impossible the situation had become. the joke was. later. flying in and out of cloud cover. all those months flying only with instruments, i should have been practicing without them. pan to the windshield. a small glow at the surface of a vibrating engine. amelia hasn't noticed. i started to wonder if luck was paying me back. for thinking i knew the rules. a small blue flame licks out into the night. then i smelled burning oil. she sees it now. the flame coming through a broken weld in the manifold ring. a i told myself, push on. after all, if it was a stupid choice. later. flying in blackness. rising, as the engines seem sluggish. no one would ever know. suddenly, a film of slush on the windscreen. with seemingly no warning, there was ice. the controls froze. and the vega dives into a dizzying spin. through the spin i had one thought, it would be warmer lower, the ice would melt, i just had to regain control. before i hit the water. and arcing at last to swoop above the whitecaps. way close for comfort. smash cut to. or passed out. . smelling salts, she inhales, again, blinks, starts to climb. the ice happened twice more, and i began to lose heart. then i remembered lindbergh's book saying the same thing happened to him. so i figured, if he's twice as good, i just have to be twice as lucky. i'd read that part in george's reception room that first day. bless him for keeping me waiting. the fuel gauge reads empty. she switches on the reserve tank. and as she drops back down into opaque clouds. . she feels something. her fingertips go to her left shoulder, and come away. wet. slick. the cockpit gauge was defective. there was a steady trickle of fuel down my neck. she looks around helplessly for a way to stem the dripping. toss-up whether the bigger danger was running out of gas or going up in a fireball. i had my answer in less than an hour, when. the manifold weld began to separate. i gauged the likelihood of explosion at somewhere between probable and inevitable. excuse me, sir. where am i? a blink. the truth. when i left, i was aiming for paris. oh. man ya missed, y'know. well, it reminds me how much i owe to the men of this world. keeps me humble. what have we really done? that's not enough. the world telegram said, `a magnificent display of useless courage.' reasoning with me. a magnificent display of useless courage. he nods to himself. ladies. thursday, i'll be in boston. meeting gene vidal and paul collins. said lightly. not even looking at him. while through the glass, it's become quite a tussle. no, he's starting a shuttle service. washington, new york, boston. one woman goes flying from view, as a younger one gets her place. could be a money maker for us. get me off the lecture grind. he stares in her eyes. almost as if looking for something. what on earth would you need me for? she's making a real mess of the lobster. gene notices. paul collins doesn't. gene had a terrible marriage and was separated from his alcoholic adulterous wife. but he was too kind to humiliate her with a divorce. gene drains the last of his beer. as a result, he was basically a single parent to their young son, gore. he glances at his watch. wow. how's nina doing? if you two get bored, i could tag along sometimes. well, yeh. he smiles first. hers is slower, but here it comes. any given meal, i can eat a lobster and have you boys in stitches. a full beat. he's deciding. at seven? are you kidding, it's a godsend. no matter how hard george and i work, how many lectures we cram in, there's never enough money for the next adventure. he looks at her. lets the silence sit there. his eyes seem to convey a depth of understanding. wish you'd do something about that. i know. always. we don't have to. for understanding. there is no smile. without a word, she goes into her room. closes the door behind her. e stands alone. do i knock on that door? then, smiles to himself, and simply. walks away. the wrong roosevelt got elected. i think the structure may be less important than the man chosen to run it. said casually, looking at her plate. his could be one of those rare instances. when the most accomplished candidate. turns out to be male. glances up for the reaction. how do you feel about flying at night? eleanor's eyes register the change of topic. rolling with it. outstanding. it's dual controls. no one will ever know. hesitation. don't you trust me? and slowly, eleanor's fingers close on her wheel. amelia's hands come away from hers. i feel like a coke. can i get you something? and stands up. only the trace of her smile as the pilot's eyes widen in absolute shock. do try not to hit the ground. have i told you what a perfect job ou did on the peonies? they're miraculous. sorry. when are you leaving? i don't really see how i can. well, it's not just that. there's y work on the shuttle, we're at a critical stage, and. i've just started as gene's consultant at the aeronautics branch. she knows he's watching. shakes her head. keeps on working. what are you trying to say? i can't think of anything helpful. he nods. well, then. rises slowly. walks back toward the house, his garden tools forgotten. she stares after him. i suppose i thought. it was too revealing. widen angle. gene enters the room with a drink in his hand and sits down next to her, concerned by her obvious distress. amelia i'm so glad you have it now. must be the ambience. and the nuts. any guy would have to be nuts to do that. i'm considerable trouble, if you haven't noticed. you'll see it. gore, huh? i wish. do you? would make life simpler. she throws a peanut which boinks off his face. he smiles a suddenly goofy, very non-elegant smile. actually, i'll be in indiana. edward elliot of purdue wants i'll be back and forth. when i'm there, i've asked to stay in the dorm with the girls. what's special about now? not unless someone makes me. how thoughtless of me to be doing ll this in a society where no one else is interested in making money. present company included. he's not afraid of her. if this is about george, just say o. because we made those calls, nd we includes me. and what's your point? women are eld to some higher standard? bankers and industrialists are ad- mired for succeeding, but women are just considered selfish and grasping? ene of course they are. well, let's change that, shall we? r would you just prefer to adopt t, since groveling would be easier. staring at each other. thanks for the tip. well, i'm an open-minded girl. and o prove it, i'm hereby resigning as your consultant at the s aeronautics branch. he throws some money on the table for the drinks. the public linking of our names does more harm to that image of mine than everything else put together. she stands up. next time you read the papers. try reading between the lines. walks out. gene makes no move to follow. he's said his piece. i came to washington today with the national women's party, to ask the president for his aid in passing the lucretia mott amendment for equal rights. she waits for the press to quiet. and that's because i haven't needed it. the winsome smile. i'm the lucky one. our department of commerce shows no prejudice in issuing licenses to fly. a pilot is a pilot. and now it fades. how about giving the rest of our women. the ones who can be productive for their families and for our nation an equal break? she is not defiant. gentle and strong. they are your sisters and your daughters. they are your wives. and fellas. the smallest shake of her head. you've no excuse. and you know it. including them wanting us to say darn instead of damn. laughter. the girl flushes a little, her point is a crucial one. don't. she meant that. and no one is laughing now. build your career first. and, surprisingly, that's the best thing you can do for your eventual marriage. so many eager faces, so many disturbed ones. look. it starts with a strong sexual attraction, that the oman assumes must be love. some heads are nodding. some eyes suspicious. everything works until the first financial crisis jars the man's confidence and threatens the oman's security. why? she looks from one to the next. because she can't help. all she can be is dependent. because that trust me. only a husband talks like that. in their laughter, she goes to the phone. everybody hangs on every word of. amelia yes? yes. yes. (hand over phone, to the i'm flying in tuesday. yes, of course, i'll make time. can you women keep a secret? they can. and boy, do they want to hear one. well, it's no secret that i'm a bit driven, some might say obsessive, about my little flying adven- tures. they are nodding, wide-eyed, go on. i've decided to embark on easily the most exciting, possibly cra- ziest, ever. they hold their breath. i'm going to fly. around the world. a frozen beat for them to even absorb this. they burst into wild applause, amelia beaming, as we dissolve to. are you going to tell me your surprise, or do i have to get physical? except it would have to be an electra, and they cost. may as well be a billion. and your surprise is, you robbed a bank. think i could help? he looks in her eyes. cat food. a whole case. dear mr. president: some time ago i told you and mrs. roosevelt about my confidential plans for a world flight. the chief problem is the jump westward from honolulu. as president elliot has said, it would be a shining adventure, beckoning with new experiences. making me more useful to the program here at purdue. she looks into the eyes of each in turn. it is much more. i believe that women should do for themselves what men have done - and occasionally what men have not. yes? this might encourage other women toward greater independence of thought and action. and i know how deeply you gentlemen desire that. there is gentle laughter. amelia reacts in mock surprise. i know, of course, from my chats earlier in the evening. with each of your wives. more laughter. applause from a wife, then the others, then all. in that spirit, i want each of you to reach for your checkbooks. she regards their amusement. and losing none of the warmth of her own smile. i mean that quite literally. this is an opportunity for me to exhibit the quality my husband admires most. the capacity. to be relentless. well, there's magellan, 400 years go. actually, he didn't make it. and he died. and he used a boat. pretty much. he glowers at her. she glowers back. so why are you asking? just to show how smart you are? no one's tried it. you think i should? no answer. dare me. okay. is she serious? she seems to be. i'll have to refuel. in the air. one plane to another. the boy is staring at her now. staring. well, don't you think i can? a beat. pretty much. hold on gene. he smiles at his kid. we'll play some cards before you leave. okay, then. he waves. one more glance at dad, and gore goes. gene gestures for amelia to come with him, away from the mechanics. what's up? but he's already walking to. . a little folding table, off in a corner. she follows. sits. well? g s that an opinion or an order? his rueful smile. oh, i bet there are more advantages than just that. no one's backing down on this. i've taken bigger risks. it's your vacation home. hullo, fred. it's good to meet you. she holds out her hand. he juggles the mugs, so he can shake it. strong look in each other's eyes. hands her a mug. this time of day, i like it with bacon and eggs. his slight grin. a handsome guy. over easy on the eggs. your job could depend on it. silence between them. comfortable smiles. i'm told that mid-air refueling would be beyond my abilities. better odds of hitting that island? even with cloud cover? they did. my dad drank. he lied all the time. rest his soul. bill just had to find europe. we're looking for something less than two miles long, with nothing higher on it than 18 feet. he shakes his head. did i pressure the navy to build a landing strip at howland island? how exactly would i do that? l threaten not to enlist? aughter in the room. more flashes. the airstrip has been planned for a long time. i was thrilled to learn it will be ready in time for my flight. the navy has been wonderful, as always. who am i to argue with `experts?' i'll just give you my plain old common-sense thinking on this. pens come up, cameras jockey for position. this is what they're waiting for. she holds up one finger. first. we may not learn much about the plane, but we will about the pilot. endurance over a month's journey, flying nearly every day. response o stress, crises. i think that will make a contribution. holds up a second finger. two. i'm a working stiff like all of you. i don't apologize for the fact that i need money to live. and to keep financing my flying, which is what i love. i think that's a positive example for women. third finger. three. i'm not doing this as a scientist. i'm a flyer, boys, pursuing my passion. for the fun of it. the fun of it. something i recommend as a healthy motive for women. a wink. a shrug. and maybe even some men. well, we need enough for a third pass at howland. after you miss it the first couple times around. ah. the best that money can buy. i just can't believe i've done this o us. all the money wasted that's never coming back. i overreacted. the plane was too heavy, i should have used the rudder pedal instead of the throttle. tears stand in her eyes. she is so ashamed and remorseful. he lets it stay silent as they walk. then. i'll make it back and more, i promise. the book sales, the lectures, this flight will keep us going another three years. no, it will. our prices, our sales, are going to double. you mean after. so my exit would be a stupid crash. nd withdrawing from a world- publicized attempt to finally do something no man had done before. and what if it's not something i have to show the world? hmmn? what if it's something i have to show me. he has no answer for that. takes her hand. they head toward the house. who let you off the hook on this? she takes his hand firmly and together they cross the hangar toward gene. he smiles, unfolds a third chair. as they arrive, amelia steps forward. . kisses gene on the cheek. george shakes his hand. i don't have a choice. i have to reverse my route and fly east. if go west now, i'm risking hurricanes in the caribbean and monsoons in africa. well, if i do pop off, i'll try to make it somewhere that's not your fault. but i'll have fred so i won't miss. in fact, i'm taking fred along for this whole trip. surprisingly, he doesn't seem to like this. she smiles. giving up my little arrogance about solo. safety first, yes? but he's still unhappy. she waits for him to say. if you're worried about his drinking, i'll deal with it. straight look. i can handle fred. and now we get a sense of exactly what does worry him. he glances to george. i'll be flying sky no one's ever been in. you made that happen. she looks down to his easy smile. i'll try to make you proud. and then what? if you'll fly the plane. make it twenty. and then. simpkin keeps many mice at one time. each under a different teacup. wow. he's finally going to hear this. no. insecure. he needs the illusion of activity o feel comfortable. that he's preparing for all contingencies. george has to grin. that he has more irons in the exactly. each poor mouse thinks it's all about her. staring at each other. don't you know i couldn't? even if part of me wanted to. very, very much. the look holds. how can we be anything. but what we are? i do love you. something in her serious face makes him smile. thanks. takes a step back toward the hangar door. one hand slightly up, stay here. then, the smile he's waited for. see ya. he smiles back. she turns and heads out toward the idling plane. she seems small, even fragile, alone on the tarmac. stay with george. watching her go. stay if you like. and she climbs into the plane. he just stands in the rain and glowers. you think we should turn back, huh? how could you find our way back? that's it? just a guess? that's more like it. she starts to turn the plane around. 've got an idea. let's never land. better safe than sorry. he takes her point. she turns back to work. i'll wake you when the coffee's ready. and with cold-blooded nerve, she swoops down, down, through the flock of eagles, scattering them as we arc in for a perfect landing. she never turns to. . fred, who is still white-knuckling, trying to get his heart started. he can't believe what she's just done. rolling, rolling. oh, my goodness. simpkin, is it really you? george makes a purring sound. a sharp meow. this is insane. it's so extravagant. we can't possibly afford this. and it's fun. hold on her face. and match dissolve to. an honest one. it's what you wanted. he nods. that's right. if you mean gene, we're not together anymore. in that way. not for a long time. it was mine. anything but easy. are you disapproving of the way i live? allow me to cut you a deal, my friend. steel in the spine of that. you show up tomorrow morning. you show up sober and you get me to howland island. okay? and i'll forget you ever said that. she wheels around and holding her slicker over her head, goes off into the pounding rain. fred's smile is gone. he stares after her. or something? oh. the monsoon beats down. thank you. i'll only be a moment. you should be working. you told me i was the star. and you were no one at all. george i thought i was lying. guess the joke's on me. silence. i'm mad at him. i'll be in honolulu on the 3rd, and with you in oakland for fourth of july. okay? i won't dare. you're a very important feline. uh, fellow. fred is fine. he's calculating head-wind speed versus fuel as we speak. close on his face. he's fine. i can handle it. and then. i love you. silence. where's that? i'm going to like it there. i'd better. since this is my last flight. a long silence. t's late here. guess i'll go curl up under a teacup. traveling light, that's all. she sits on the lip of the hatch. her legs dangling. her eyes down. it's fine. her eyes come up. everything is. he doesn't understand, but he's glad to be forgiven. she takes a letter from her pocket. runs her finger over the envelope. it's for my husband. i'm going to hand it to him. so i can watch his face as he reads it. she sniffles slightly. it's our tradition. itasca from earhart. overcast. static. dalten leans to the mic. dalten we are receiving your signal. please acknowledge ours. what is your position? when do you expect to arrive howland? no answer. light static. please take bearing on us and report in half hour. i will make noise in microphone. we are about 100 miles out. the transmission cuts out. dalten answers in morse code. no response. khaqq calling itasca. we must be on you but cannot see you. glances are traded. it is the first moment of visible concern. static interrupts. then. gas is running low. been unable to reach you by radio. we are flying t altitude 1000 feet. dalten you are reaching us. we are sending on 3105 and 500 constantly. please acknowledge. massive burst of static. dalten frantically clicking a message in morse code. dissolve to. my simpkin. we point toward the water. i want to be married to you. the way you've been married to me. it begins to draw closer. as you read this. i am watching your face. i am hoping to see. that you know how much i mean each word. all the things i never said, for so very long. Look up. They're in my eyes.