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fill his coffee cup and stare at the actual…size diagram。
The house was quiet; with only the background murmur of the surf on the beach and the occasional burble of a passing car to break the solitude。 The task assumed a life of its own; breaking the pieces out of the balsa boards; assembling them on the diagram; occasionally sanding or trimming with the razor…sharp nobby knife before pinning them into place。 As he worked he occasionally glanced at the picture on the box; visualizing how the airplane would look soaring back and forth above the sand; trying to imagine how it would feel to fly it。 This would be real flying; he knew。 Even though his feet would not leave the ground; the plane would be flying free; and since he would be flying it; so would he。 He carefully glued the rudder and vertical stabilizer parts together and began assembling the horizontal stabilizer。
The knock on the door startled him。 He had been so intent on his task he had paid no attention to the sound of the car driving up。 〃Yeah。 e on in。〃
He heard the door open。 〃Captain Grafton。〃
〃Yep。〃 Jake looked up。
The man standing there was in his late twenties; slightly above medium height; with short brown hair。 〃Toad Tarkington! e on in! What a surprise!〃
The man's face split in a wide grin and he crossed the room and pumped Jake's hand。 〃It's great to see you again; CAG。 I thought for a while there you were dead。〃
Grafton nodded and studied Lieutenant Toad Tarkington; today clad in jeans and rugby shirt and windbreaker。 He looked。。。 just the same as he did the morning they went after Colonel Qazi in an F…14 five months ago。 Last September。 And here he was with that grin。。。 quick; energetic; nervous。 He was ready to laugh or fly; ready for a prank in the ready room or a night cat shot; fully alive。 That's what Toad Tarkington projected…vibrant; energetic; enthusiastic life。
〃I'm not a CAG now; Toad。 I'm just a plain ol' sick…leave captain。〃 CAG was the title bestowed on an air wing mander; and was pronounced to rhyme with 〃rag。〃
Toad grabbed his hand and held it; that grin splitting his face。 〃Have we got a lot to talk about! I tried to call you; sir; but your phone wasn't listed。〃
〃Yeah。 Had to have the number changed。 The reporters were driving me nuts。〃
Toad pulled one of the kitchen chairs around and sat down。 〃I was pretty damn happy last fall when I heard you were alive。 What happened to you anyway; after we rammed that transport?〃
〃Some Greek fishermen pulled me out of the water。 I don't remember a thing。 Had a concussion。 Lucky for me the life vests inflate automatically nowadays。 Anyway; they pulled me out and I made it。〃
〃How e they didn't radio someone or head for port?〃
〃Their radio was broken and they were there to fish;〃 Jake looked away from Toad。 He was back among the ordinary; everyday things; for a moment there。。。 but he was here; at the beach house。 〃They thought I was gonna die on them any minute and they needed the fish。 I was in a a。〃 His shoulders moved up and down。 〃Too damned many Gs。 Messed up my eyes。 That's why I wear these glasses now。〃
Jake removed the glasses and examined the lenses; as if seeing them for the first time。 〃It's 20/100 now。 It was 20/500。 The Gs almost ripped my eyeballs out。〃 He placed the glasses back on the bridge of his nose and stared at the pieces of balsa on the kitchen table。 〃I don't remember much about it。 The docs say some blood vessels popped in the front part of my brain and I had some memory loss。〃
〃By God; sir; I sure as hell can fill you in。〃 Toad leaned forward and seized his arm。 Jake refocused on that excited; expressive face; 〃The Gs were something else and I couldn't get to the ejection handles; and I guess you couldn't either。 Man; our bacon was well and truly fried when she broke up and spit us out。 The left wing was gone and I figure most of the left vertical stab; because we were getting pushed around screwy。 I…〃 He continued his tale; his hands automatically moving to show the plane's position in space。 Jake stopped listening to the voice and watched the hands; those practiced; expressive hands。
Tarkington…he was the past turned into a living; breathing person。 He was every youngster Jake had shared a ready room with for the past twenty years; all those guys now middle…aged。。。 or dead。
Toad was still talking when Jake turned back to the pile of balsa on the table。 When he eventually paused for air; Jake said mildly。
〃So what we you up to these days?〃 as he used the X…acto knife to trim a protruding sliver from a balsa rib piece。
〃My squadron tour was up;〃 Toad said slowly。 〃And when you get a Silver Star you can pretty well call your next set of orders。 So I talked it over with the detailer。〃 He looked around the room; then swiveled back to Jake。 〃And I told him I wanted to go where you were going。〃
Jake laid the knife down and scooted his chair back。 〃I'm still on convalescent leave。〃
〃Yessir。 I heard。 And I hear you're going to the Pentagon as a division director or something。 So I'm reporting there this ing Monday。 I'll be working for you。〃
Jake smiled again。 〃I seem to recall you had had enough of this warrior shit。〃
〃Yeah。 Well; what the hell! I decided to stay around for another set of orders。 I can always pull the plug。 And I've got nothing better to do right now anyway。〃
Jake snorted and nibbed his fingertips together。 The glue had coated his fingertips and wouldn't e off。 〃I don't either。 So we'll go shuffle paper for a while; eh?〃
〃Yessir;〃 Toad said; and stood。 〃Maybe we won't get underway; but we'll still be in the navy。 That's something; isn't it?〃 He stuck out his hand again; like a cowboy drawing a pistol。 〃I'll be seeing you in the office; when you get there;〃 he said as Jake pumped the outstretched hand。 〃Say hello to Mrs。 Grafton for me。〃
Jake acpanied Toad to the door; then out onto the porch。 There was a young woman in the car; and she looked at him curiously。 He nodded at her; then put a hand on Toad's shoulder and squared around to face him。 〃Take care of yourself; y'hear?〃
〃Sure; CAG。 Sure。〃
〃Thanks for ing by。〃
As Toad drove away Jake waved; then went back into the house。 The place was depressing。 It was as if Tarkington brought all the life and energy with him; then took it away when he left。 But he was of Jake's past。 Everything was past。 The flying; the ready rooms; the sun on the sea as you manned up to fly; all of it was over; gone; finished。
It was after four o'clock。 He had forgotten to eat lunch。 Oh well; Callie wasn't going to get here until nine o'clock or so。 The Chesapeake Bay Bridge shouldn't be crowded on Friday evenings this time of year。 He could get some more of this plane assembled; then fix a sandwich or something。 Maybe run over to Burger King。
He scratched at the glue caked on his fingertips。 The stuff came off in flakes if you peeled it right。 This plane…it was going to be a nice one。 It was going to be good to fly it。 When flying was all you knew and all you had been; you needed a plane around。
Oh; shit! As he looked at the pieces he felt like a fool。 A fucking toy plane! He threw himself on the couch and lay there staring at the ceiling。
Toad T