I took up flying more or less on a whim (突发奇想). I had a really difficult time at that time. My mother left me and my favorite cat was lost two weeks later. My life was filled with uncertainties and sadness and I was left feeling terribly down. So when I passed our local airfield and saw an advertisement for trial flying lessons, I decided to book one. It was something I’d always imagined trying, and I hoped it would cheer me up.

I enjoyed my trial lessons and decided to book some more. I found that flying an airplane was attractive, and it took my mind off my personal difficulties. By the end of that summer, I had my private pilot’s license, and I started to do some local flights for fun.

Then I decided to have a go at flying helicopters, and I found that I liked that even more. Despite having promised myself and all my friends that I wasn’t going to take it up, I got my private pilot’s license for helicopters, too. Soon, I was hiring small helicopters and taking friends flying. But helicopter flying is very expensive, and I knew I couldn’t keep doing it as a hobby forever. I knew a lot of people at our local airfield, and many were taking commercial (商业的) flying exams — some with a goal of working as commercial pilots, others wanting to be instructors. I had an idea — I could become a helicopter instructor. That way, I could fly for free, and even get paid for it.

Then I told my friends my thought, but I didn’t expect some of the reactions I got. My friends couldn’t believe that I really meant to do that. “Oh, don’t be silly, Helen. You can’t possibly be a helicopter instructor,” one of my friends said. After all, I was well over forty, which is not the usual time to begin a new career. But I chose to stick to my idea.

Quickly, I went ahead with my plan.

Soon I found a job at an airfield, not too far from my home.

I stood in the restaurant kitchen, my eyes wide, arms hanging awkwardly, ready to work but unsure of what to do. “You will be trained first,” my manager Aaron said, “and do remember to check every detail!” With these words, he walked away.

A workmate threw me a dish brush and said, “Let’s get started.” He introduced me to the basics of washing dishes and demonstrated the process. This was the beginning of my part-time job, a new stage where I was both eager to learn and anxious about the challenges ahead.

On a Friday night, Aaron swiftly entered the kitchen. “Who has just bused (收拾) the back right table?” he shouted, his voice sharp with urgency. My hands, slippery with bubbles from the bowl I was washing, nearly let it slip through my fingers. I wanted to say I was guilty, but Aaron’s cold stare didn’t promise a happy reward for the guy who admitted. Finally, a mix of fear and my own conscience pushed the response out of my mouth.

“I did, Aaron.”

“What were you thinking? Get back out here and look at what you missed!” His words forced me forward. I grabbed a rag (抹布) and followed him out to table twenty-two. As we made our way through the restaurant, he said something about rags, but I didn’t hear clearly with other conversations going on around us.

I quickly realized the true issue was the mess beneath the table. A nearly full cup of beer had tipped over, creating a small lake on the floor. It was a significant mistake on my part. “Take care of it!” Aaron tuned and stormed off to the front of the restaurant.

I dropped down to clean up the beer. That was when another problem occurred. I had brought only one rag. One already wet rag. It did nothing but increase the size of the lake. “More rags,” I thought. Immediately, I rushed into the kitchen and hurriedly grabbed five dry rags, hoping Aaron wouldn’t notice my brief absence.