The Cadet

by Doug Beason

  Rod kept quiet. One thing he’d discovered was that sometimes he had to listen.

  She pulled back her head and looked up at him. “Aren’t you curious?”

  “I don’t want to be nosy—”

  They both turned as a girl at the punchbowl whooped. Someone started chanting “USAFA pre-game,” with cadets laughing hysterically. Their dates stood by, holding hands to their mouths in amazement as the cadets jumped around, arms thrusting high in the air. Other girls looked disgusted and whispered to themselves.

  Rod spotted an AOC make his way through the crowded dance floor toward the commotion. “Uh, oh,” he said. He pulled away and grabbed Julie’s hand. “Let’s go outside for a walk.”

  “Good idea.”

  They wove through couples and nearly reached the edge of the dance floor when Rod spotted Captain Whitney. Like a flight of fighters wheeling in for the kill, every officer in the building was zeroing in.

  Rod stepped back to get out of Captain Whitney’s way when he was shoved from behind. Still holding Julie’s hand, he dragged her with him as he stumbled forward.

  Captain Whitney pulled up to avoid colliding. “I say, Simone,” he scowled.

  Rod stiffened. “Excuse me, sir.” He let go of Julie’s hand.

  Captain Whitney was about to retort when he noticed Julie. “Why, good evening, Miss!” he said, running a hand through his blonde hair. His eyes latched on to her breasts, then clicked back to the commotion across the room.

  “Sir, this is Miss Julie Phillips. Julie, Captain Whitney, one of my instructors.”

  Julie stuck out her white-gloved hand, not in a handshake, but with her palm down as a southern lady would have when introduced to a gentleman. “Why, Captain! I’m pleased to finally meet a faculty member. I have heard so much about ya’ll!” Her accent dripped.

  Captain Whitney stared, as if he didn’t know if she was putting him on or not. He gave her hand a delicate shake and looked oddly at Rod. “I’m pleased to meet you as well, Miss Phillips. Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Immensely and thoroughly, Captain.” She drew back her hand and grasped Rod’s arm. “I’m soooo glad to have met Cadet Simone. He’s such a dear, sweet angel.”

  A smirk played at Captain Whitney’s lips. “Yes, that’s been my experience with him as well. Now if you two will excuse me, I think I’m needed across the room. It’s been a pleasure, Miss Phillips. Please enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  “Oh, I intend to, Captain. I intend to very much.”

  Captain Whitney sniffed at Rod. “Be prepared for class, Simone.”

  “Good evening, sir.” Rod stepped back as Captain Whitney twisted past them and made a bee-line for the punch bowl. Julie still clung to his arm with both her hands.

  Rod stared at her. “What was that all about?”

  “What? You mean sweet little ole me?”

  “If I didn’t know better …”

  Julie laughed and pulled him away from the dance floor. “Come on, Rod. Your captain doesn’t know me from Eve. He’ll never know that I was pulling his leg. And besides, you were far enough away that he couldn’t smell anything on your breath—unlike your friends back there, who are probably about to get the shock of their lives when your captain arrives.”

  They reached the door and stepped outside. The night air was cool, but it felt good after the stuffiness of Arnold Hall. Rod looked around and didn’t see any officers, so he grabbed her hand and walked around the side of the building, heading for the parade field.

  Julie looked up and shivered slightly.

  “Cold?” Rod asked.

  “A little.” She leaned up against him while still looking up. “The stars are so bright. It reminds me of when I was a little girl. We’d be in the Alps, and it seemed like you could reach up and touch them. I tried to count them once, but I always lost count.”

  “The Alps?”

  She smiled and snuggled up close to him again. “I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing the night sky. Or that you could see the stars just as well here in Colorado.”

  “So you’re new to CWC?”

  “Like I said, last year I was at Miss Marmsley’s School for Difficult Women.”

  Rod stopped. They had reached the side of the administrative building. The parade field lay ahead, and they stood in the shadows. From here Rod could see across campus. Three couples walked a hundred yards to the east, and except for the sound of someone laughing in the distance, they were alone.

  She turned and slipped her arms around him, holding him tight. “You’re warm.”

  “They say sheep huddle up in a storm to keep warm, conserve heat.” He rubbed her back. “But we also learned in survival training that if a person has hypothermia, you can’t warm them up too quickly, or they’ll die.”

  “So what do you do?”

  “You get them out of their clothes and into a sleeping bag.” He laughed. “Of course you’ve got to get out of your own clothes and hop in with them, so my classmates all swore that if one of us ever got hypothermia, we’d find the nearest girl to help out.”

  They were silent for a moment. Rod drew in a breath and watched the night sky. It was an amazing feeling, seeing the brilliant stars, having Julie’s arms around him. He breathed deep, drawing in the crisp, cool air. It felt great to be a cadet.

  Julie pressed up against him and lifted her face. “How cold are you?”

  He hesitated, then lowered his head and kissed her. He drew it out, feeling her tongue explore his mouth. She pressed up against him. Her tongue darted in and out, then drew him in with an incredible pressure.

  Pulling back, he kissed her face, then her neck as she bent back her head. “I’m warming up,” he said. “How about you?”

  “Still too cold.” She ran her hands across his back, then in his jacket, exploring.

  “That feels good,” he said. “I thought Miss Marmsley said you were a difficult woman.”

  She kissed him hard, almost swallowing his tongue this time. Rod leaned back against the building to keep his balance.

  “I also said I was a lucky woman tonight,” she murmured.

  O O O

  “You two have fun. I’ll be at the library,” Rod said. He zipped up his parka and turned to the door.

  Sly put down his pencil. “Hey, Einstein.” He and Manuel Rojo sat by his desk, books on their lap; the top of his desk was piled high with boxes of homemade cookies, fudge, and candy.

  Rod stopped. “Yeah?”

  “Are you taking any homework or are you going over for a nap?”

  Rod grinned. “Thanks.” He stepped up to his bookshelf and pulled out his EE and Aero texts, as well as two notebooks.

  Manuel looked up from his textbook. “Do me a favor and see if there are any listings for satellites at the reference desk, would you Rod? That is, besides what’s in the science fiction section.”

  Sly stifled a laugh. “He’s not going to be within a mile of the reference desk.”

  “What for?” Rod said, ignoring Sly.

  “Sputnik. That new Russian satellite. I have a feeling the Air Force isn’t going to think it’s a toy like the rest of the world, and I want to learn as much as I can about it.”

  Sly turned around in his chair. “That’s a good point, Rod. You know, all this high-tech stuff even has me thinking I might fare better going to pilot training than law school.”

  Rod straightened. “I thought getting a law degree was part of the plan.”

  Sly turned back to his homework. “Anyone can pass the bar and go into politics; even Carol thinks flying is more exciting than practicing law.”

  “Wow,” Rod said. “What’s your dad going to say when he finds out?”

  “I’ll ask Uncle Jack to tell him. I’ve just got to make sure I’m high enough in the academic order of merit to get my first choice of pilot training bases.” Sly grinned. “So I’m sure you won’t mind if I join you at the library tonight, especially if you’re bringing back any
more goodies. What do you say, ole buddy?”

  “Stuff it,” Rod said. He gathered his books together. “I’ll see what I can find out, Manuel.” When he was halfway out the door, he stopped, sheepishly. “Uh, Sly, if I’m not back at taps, could you make sure I’m marked unauthorized?”

  Manuel narrowed his eyes at Rod. “Mr. Straightlaced, unauthorized? Don’t you remember what happened the last time you did that?”

  Sly tapped his pencil on the desk. Papers were strewn out in front of him, and a cup of coffee was pushed off to the side. “Yeah. So don’t forget that GR tomorrow in Poly Sci.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Rod stepped back and grabbed his Political Science book.

  “And don’t forget to study.” Sly hesitated. “Are you meeting Julie?”

  “Yes, I am.” He studied Sly and Manuel for a moment, but his classmates remained emotionless. “Why?”

  Sly rolled his eyes in an exaggerated motion. “I thought you were at least going to wait until the weekend before you saw her again. You’ve already seen her every night since meeting her three weeks ago.” He swept his hand across the pile of food. “Not that I don’t appreciate her bringing you these goodies.”

  Rod shrugged.

  Manuel leaned forward. “How well do you know her?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He means you’ve been racing to the library nearly every night since the dance,” Sly said. It’s pretty obvious that you’re kissing off studying, because for the first time in recorded history, I’m the one answering questions in class and you’re not; even Captain Whitney is starting to notice. Everyone knows about her.”

  “So?” Rod said. “We can see visitors at the library during Ac Call now that we’re Second classman. It’s one of our privileges. Isn’t that right, Manuel?”

  “I suppose so,” Manuel said.

  “The privilege is for seeing them, not petting them,” Sly muttered.

  “I heard that. It’s none of your business.”

  Manuel looked at Sly, who gave him a shrug; he turned back to Rod. “What do you know about this girl?”

  “What do you mean? Julie’s a senior at CWC. She’s graduating this year and going back to Washington, DC to live with her family until she goes to graduate school. This isn’t serious or anything. She just wants me to spend time with her.”

  “And eat her cookies.” Sly winked at Manuel and grabbed a brownie. “You ought to try them, Manuel. I wish Rod had met her back when we were basics—I never would have starved!” He took a bite and spoke with his mouth full. “But she seems awfully possessive to me.”

  Rod felt his face grow warm. “Keep your nose out of my personal life. I don’t pry into your business, and you wouldn’t pry into mine if you knew what’s good for you!”

  Manuel said slowly, “Do you know you’re starting to sound like Fred?”

  There was an awkward silence. Sly said, “He’s right, you know. I just hope you’d be as concerned if this happened to me. You’ve worked too hard to give it all up for some girl.”

  “Get bent! Both of you!” Rod stomped out, feeling a knot at the bottom of his stomach.

  Three doolies smashed up against the wall as he passed, their chins poking deep into their chest. “Good evening, sir! By your leave, sir!”

  “Knock off twenty, smacks!” Rod said.

  “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! Good evening, sir!” The doolies threw themselves on the floor and started pumping out pushups. “One, sir! Two, sir—”

  By the time Rod reached the end of the hall he started to cool down. The fall air was crisp, and the smell of burning pine from fireplaces to the west wafted over the campus. The walkways were deserted, although lights burned brightly in the dorms. Some curtains were drawn, but most every room had the outline of cadets hunched over their desks, or groups of two or three discussing homework.

  Rod reached the library and weaved his way to the far corner where a cluster of desks was nestled between the stacks. Rod took off his jacket, draped it over the back of a chair, and arranged his books on the other two desks, effectively claiming the entire area for himself.

  Julie wasn’t around. He glanced behind two stacks, then checked his watch. He was five minutes early, but after last night, he couldn’t wait to see her again. It wasn’t that he didn’t have homework, or even that monster GR in Poly Sci, but it all seemed insignificant compared to being close to her, to hear her laugh.

  There was something about her presence that made him seem as though he were a million miles away from this place, with no AOCs, no cadets, no SAMIs, no marching—nothing but the two of them just talking about what it would be like after he graduated; when he wouldn’t have to sign out and he’d have the freedom to just pick up and go, without ever having to worry about getting back by taps.

  He looked over the row of books that shielded their rendezvous from the rest of the world. He didn’t recognize most of the author’s names, as they’d found their hideaway deep in the fiction section. He was more familiar with the engineering and mathematics sections; with what little time he had for leisure activities, reading for pleasure was not a high priority.

  He pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through the pages. One of these days he’ll have enough time to enjoy reading again—

  Hands went over his eyes, and a long coat, still carrying the smell of wood smoke from the outside air, pressed against his back. “Guess who?”

  “The librarian,” Rod said. He reached up and pulled down the hands around his face. He kissed the fingers, one by one. “Nice and soft, so it’s not a Denver cowgirl.” Swinging around he buried himself in Julie’s dark hair, softly kissing her neck.

  “One of these days, it won’t be me and you’ll get the shock of your life.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.” They kissed, then walked arm in arm to the desks.

  “I have a test tomorrow,” Julie said, spreading out some of the books she had brought with her; she kept her long coat buttoned.

  “So do I. I bet yours isn’t in Poly Sci though.”

  “Poly Sci?”

  “Political Science. What a joke. It’s not a science at all—it keeps changing the answers. Our engineering profs say that if you can’t stick a formula on it, you can’t grind out a solution.” He leaned over the desk and glanced at her books. “Who’s that?”

  “D. H. Lawrence. He lived in Taos. We vacation in Angel Fire, a resort just north of there.”

  “Daos?”

  “Taos. It’s about three hundred miles south of here, north of Santa Fe. Lawrence was quite the thing in his lifetime.”

  “Sounds exciting. Another boring, dead writer.”

  Julie smiled coyly. “An erotic writer. Read him. You might learn something.”

  Rod reached over and grabbed at the book. “Let me see that.”

  She swept it away. “Later. This isn’t a recipe book, you know. It’s a classic.”

  Rod sat back down and opened his political science text. “How did you get interested in that kind of stuff?”

  “Lawrence? Believe it or not we study him in a liberal arts college.”

  “You didn’t live in Taos, did you?”

  She laughed and swung back her head, allowing her black hair to fly. “Heavens, no, only visit. But live there? It’s too far from civilization.”

  “So where did you grow up? You said something about Switzerland the other day. You don’t have an accent.”

  She leaned over the desk and kissed him lightly. “Unlike you, Jean-Claude.”

  “That’s not fair.” He kissed her back.

  “Why the sudden interest in where I’m from?”

  “I just felt that after spilling my guts and seeing each other for three weeks—”

  “Two and a half.”

  “Okay, two and a half, and being, well … intimate, then I want to know more about you. I mean, where did you grow up? Where did you live? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What are your passions? What’s the most impo
rtant thing in your life? What do you want to accomplish? Do you want to make a difference?”

  “Who wants to know, your AOC? How many goodies does he bring you?”

  Rod laughed as he looked around; tonight she’d only brought her books. “What, no cookies?” Although Sly pulled his leg about her gifts, he was genuinely disappointed she hadn’t brought any food. Every day for the past three weeks she’d also mailed a card or sent a note. He’d never had anyone pay as much attention to him or be so thoughtful.

  “I’ve got something better.” She stood, walked around to his side of the table, then sat in his lap.

  He looked around. “Watch out. If they catch us, I’ll be marching tours for weeks.”

  “You’re kidding. What for?”

  “PDA. Public Display of Affection.”

  She kissed his neck. “Then this is the deal,” she murmured. “No PDA, no story.”

  Glancing around, Rod didn’t see anyone. He returned the kiss, grinning. “Go on.”

  “I spent the early part of my life in Washington, DC. Daddy had some business to do in Europe, so we went with him to Switzerland for a few years.”

  “Hmmm.” It was hard for Rod to concentrate on what she was saying.

  “And Miss Marmsley’s School for Difficult Women?”

  “Actually, that was anywhere I went. Radford, Wellesley, Brown.”

  Rod pulled back. “You’ve been to all those? Those aren’t exactly cheap places.”

  “Daddy’s a Washington lawyer. He can afford it. It comes with the territory.”

  “Don’t tell me you kept changing schools because you didn’t like the majors.”

  Julie wiggled in his lap. “I guess you can say the school’s Administration and I didn’t see eye to eye. They thought I should follow certain rules, and I didn’t. So every so often Daddy got madder and madder, pulled me out, and brought me closer to home.”

  “Then why did he send you out west to CWC?”

  She looked at him as though he was crazy. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s college without a major men’s university in town.”