Here’s the conclusion to Flying Lessons, but just the start to a life of adventure for young Will Ross. I hope you’ll read No More Empty Spaces, my debut novel, which picks up on Will’s life decades later as he takes his family to a remote and rugged region of Turkey where he has signed on to work on the construction of a troubled dam.

Finally, Will felt a shaky touch—his mother’s on his shoulders. She peered over his head at Lucien and said, “Good riddance.” She led Will toward the front of the house, the kitchen door swinging closed behind them. There was a pillowcase stuffed full, leaning on one of the suitcases. She handed it to Will. “There’re your things.”

He clutched at the sack to keep it from spilling over, pulling a wad of fabric tight in each hand to carry it.

With a suitcase in each of her hands and her good purse hanging over her left wrist, his mother pushed the screen door open with her hip. It screeched on its rusty hinges, like it always did. They both looked back toward the kitchen, but the swinging door remained still. A look passed between them, then Will followed his mother through the door, across the porch, and down the steps. She rushed toward Lucien’s old red beater truck, her dress whipping around her legs in the wind.

She loaded the suitcases in back, while Will climbed into the cab clutching his things.

He reached his chin on top of the pillowcase, and asked, “Can we say good-bye to Joe?”

“No, we’re just goin’, no good-byes, no one knowin’ where we’re goin’.”

She cranked the truck. It whined once, turning over on the second try.

“Where are we going?”

“Willard, stop askin’ so many questions. We’ll get goin’ then I’ll figure out where we’re goin’ to. We just gotta get before Lucien comes to, is all.” She jerked the truck into gear.

Will turned around to see the little white house, curtains fluttering in the windows like they were waving good-bye, and something told him he would never set foot in Kansas again.

He raised his hand—just a small wave, so his mother wouldn’t notice.

Bye, Gramps. Bye, Joe. Thank you, he thought. Bye Scout, old pal. Bye Tuck. I’ll never forget you, but I’m gonna fly. Up and away!