The Last Flight

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The Last Flight Page 38

by Liefer, Gregory P. ; Liefer, G P;


  “Daddy, this isn’t your time. You still have more to do.”

  “What do you mean, honey?” He asked, looking at Eric for confirmation, then back into her eyes. “I thought we would be together now.”

  “I know, Daddy. Me, too. We’ll all be waiting for you. They decided to send you back for a while.”

  “No, honey. You and Eric are here. I want to stay with you.”

  His son grasped him gently by the shoulder as he knelt beside them. “Everything will be okay, Dad.”

  Tara touched her nose to his and kissed him. “I love you, Daddy.”

  Eric repeated the words. Connor grabbed both of them in a bear hug. “I don’t understand. I want to stay.”

  “We know, Dad. We’ll see you soon. We promise.”

  They stepped away into a halo of light, leaving him with open arms in a nothingness of space. And then they were gone. His eyes closed, and he was asleep again. He wasn’t sure for how long, only the next memory of something pushing at his arm.

  A hand shook him awake, causing him to open his eyes, and when he did he was back on the ridge. Susan nudged him again, startled but relieved he was alive. She immediately fell forward, embracing him tightly. He felt suddenly different. His reason for being there was clear.

  Soon after Susan found him, he told her about the cancer and how the events in his dream—if it really was a dream—had changed him. The physical pain was completely gone. He felt a renewed enthusiasm for life. Everything would be different now, of that he was certain.

  She cried of course, but they knew they had found something real in each other, something that had been missing from their lives for far too long. Together, they decided, they would live life to the fullest.

  He tried to explain the reason for his staying on the mountain and walking away from the wreckage, how Vietnam had changed him and how he lost faith after his daughter died. Those experiences showed him the dark side of life, how evil can be so prevalent, how the innocent are taken so easily. He stopped believing in himself and in God.

  Susan told him she felt the same way after her husband died. People have faith in different ways, for different reasons. She realized you can’t believe in evil without believing in good. If true evil exists in the world, then kindness and love and faith must exist as well. Her husband was in a better place. She believed the truth with all her heart. Connor’s son and daughter were there, too.

  Connor and Susan thought about the future, resting against each other on the flight home. A peacefulness neither had felt before surrounded them. There were no worries. Life was too precious. They smiled warmly between glances outside.

  The air smelled fresh after the storm. The mountains were as picturesque as a postcard. High overhead, the sky was clear and calm, beckoning a new beginning. Rays of sunlight reached down from the heavens, reflecting brightly in Connor’s deep blue eyes.

  *******

  Once the last helicopter departed off the ridge and was safely out of the mountains, Colonel Hannesy radioed a farewell. It was time to head home. In a few weeks the wreckage would be buried in snow, invisible until the next summer thaw. Over time, what remained would be crushed under the repeated weight of ice or swept away by an avalanche, eventually broken into pieces and dispersed on the creviced glacier below. All evidence of the crash would be gone.

  Colonel Hannesy ran a hand through his thinning silver hair. The rescue was another successful mission under his belt. He lost count of exactly how many, years ago. Maybe he should retire. Flying wasn’t the seductive mistress she used to be. He was getting old. A day of fishing and an ice-cold beer sounded just as good.

  “How about a break? You want to fly for a while?” The first officer yawned with boredom. “I could use a fresh cup of coffee.”

  “Sure. Hang on a second.”

  Reaching behind his seat, Colonel Hannesy pulled out a worn helmet bag and retrieved a tootsie pop. He had long since given up chewing tobacco. The wrapper was peeled away and the candy placed in his mouth with the stem extending from his lips. He crumpled the paper and tossed the wad at the bag, missing the open pocket where it bounced and lay on the floor.

  The sides of the helmet bag were adorned with patches from a dozen different units, some old and frayed and some in better condition. The various insignia ranged in shape and color, but one, in particular, stood out among the rest. The word Guardians was stitched in white above contrasting colors of green, gold, and maroon, and the name 56th Support Squadron framed the bottom. In the center was a depiction of a small airplane flying above a jungle landscape and the apparition of an angel with open wings.

  “All right, I’ve got the controls. Time to put the horse in the barn.”

  BECAUSE I FLY

  Because I fly

  I laugh more than other men,

  I look up and see more than they.

  I know how the clouds feel,

  What it’s like to have the blue in my lap,

  To look down on birds,

  To feel the freedom in a thing called a stick.

  Who but I can slice between God’s billowed legs,

  And feel them laugh and crash with his every step.

  Who else but I have seen the unclimbed peaks?

  The rainbow’s secret?

  The real reason birds sing?

  Because I Fly,

  I envy no man on earth.

  —Grover C. Norwood, USAF (Retired)

 

 

 


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