Emotionally Bulletproof--Scott's Story (Book 1)

by David Allen

  In her seat, the woman was thinking. She sighed and glanced at the name. Quadraline Civil Airport. She shuffled through her ticket book. This was the last stop before Guam. Thank God!

  Looking around the airport, she saw the familiar light blue uniforms, then curiously she saw a man sitting by the window. He had a red afro, and was wearing worn looking shorts and a white T-shirt. He obviously wasn’t from the Air Force.

  I wonder if he’s a bum? she thought. She watched him a little longer, then looked away, not wanting to be caught staring.

  “And now all our passengers who were already on Flight 63 to Guam may re-board,” the Continental woman announced through a raspy loudspeaker. She stood by the gate, glancing at tickets while the passengers fi led back outside and hurried back to the plane, holding umbrellas in an attempt to stay dry. A man at the door collected the umbrellas and returned them back so more groups could make the dash.

  The lady with the dark hair stood and joined the rapidly shortening line. She couldn’t help but look curiously at the man with the red hair again. He had a sad look on his face, and his blue eyes seemed a little red. She felt a tinge of sympathy. He looked up and their eyes met briefly. She glanced away embarrassed, feeling her face flush.

  “Can I see your ticket, Ma’am?” the stewardess asked her.

  “Oh yes, I’m sorry,” she said, flustered. She handed the stewardess her ticket. “Have a pleasant flight.” The stewardess smiled and watched her hurry out to the airplane.

  Soon the general boarding began. There were only about 20 people getting on now. Scott lingered despite the emptying line. He knew that once he walked up the ramp to the airplane, this world would close behind him, and he wanted to stay here for as long as possible.

  He looked out the window. The weather seemed to match his feelings perfectly. Thunder in the distance, and wind blowing the rain sideways across the runway.

  “Final call for Flight 63 to Guam. That would be you, sir.” The lady looked at Scott from behind her counter. Scott stood, gripped his suitcase and walked to the counter. He handed his ticket over, had it clipped, then walked out into the rain. A soaking attendant handed Scott an umbrella and helped him hurry to the airplane.

  “May I stow your bag, sir?”

  Scott let go of his bag and stepped inside the airplane.

  He stood looking down a crowded aisle. The engines were warming up, and a flight attendant was latching the door behind him. Scott looked at his ticket. 32A. All the way to the back of the plane. He had to step sideways down the aisle. He felt very uncomfortable wading through the gauntlet of soldiers.

  Scott moved to the back of the plane. 32B. There was the dark-haired lady.

  “Excuse me, that’s my seat.” Scott motioned at his ticket.

  Oh, that quaint fellow, she thought. She leaned back to avoid him brushing her as he squeezed past.

  Scott sat down, leaned his head against the small oval window, and gazed into the rain. The tires had barely left the tarmac before they were over the ocean. He hardly noticed as rain and wind buffeted the wings. Clouds soon blotted out the ocean below as the airplane climbed. Scott felt dejected. He was wrapped up in his own world, oblivious to the woman next to him.

  It seemed like only a minute had passed before Scott heard a voice. “Excuse me, would you like something to drink?”

  Scott turned. He looked up at the stewardess. Scott began to decline, then he changed his mind. “I’ll take a glass of water.” He gripped the outstretched cup. “Thanks.” Scott turned back toward the window.

  “So what are you doing out on these islands? I notice you’re not military like everyone else.” A female voice caused Scott to turn back.

  He stared for a second. “No, I’m not military.” He stopped talking, then realized she was waiting for him to say more. “I’m a teacher at a mission school. Well, I was a teacher.” Scott looked away miserably.

  “Why are you going to Guam?” This lady was persistent.

  “I’m going because of an unfortunate series of events. I won’t bore you with them, though.” Scott looked back toward the window.

  “Oh no, I’m interested.” The lady leaned forward. “My name’s Laura, what’s yours?”

  “Scott.”

  “So what is this long series of unfortunate events?” Her eyes sparkled ever so slightly.

  This lady won’t quit, Scott thought. He glanced at her apprehensively, trying to decide how much to say. She waited, arms resting on her lap. “I was a teacher in the Marshall Islands at a mission school.” A shadow crossed his face “I cut my foot shark fishing. It got infected…” He told her a brief overview of how he had almost died. “So now I’m on my way home,” he finished.

  She leaned forward, visibly trying to figure him out. Scott looked away.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, is that the reason you’re so sad?”

  “I seem sad?” he asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

  “Yes, you don’t hide it well.” She shrugged.

  “There is one thing.” Scott hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  Laura drew back in her seat. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No it’s okay,” Scott said. “There was a girl.” He cleared his throat. “Her name was Janet. She died when our mission sailboat sank.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Laura said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Scott settled in the seat. “It’s all right.”

  “Excuse me, would you two like something more to drink?” The stewardess was back.

  Laura and Scott looked up together. “No thanks,” they responded in unison.

  The airplane was full of sleeping men now, and it was dark except for the soft glimmer of the moon reflecting on the plane’s wings. Scott looked out the small window.

  Laura interrupted the silence. “Janet was very special to you wasn’t she?”

  Scott nodded. “That’s why they made me leave, because things just fell apart after she died.” He didn’t tell her about Tony or hitting him with the chair. He didn’t know how well he could explain that.

  “I understand how you feel.” Laura sighed. “You know, when your life feels like it’s just absolutely falling apart.” She seemed comfortable talking with him now. “Four years ago, I was divorced, and it was a rough road. I didn’t know things could get that bad. I drank a lot.” She paused, searching Scott’s face for interest. “Just six months ago, I found the Lord, and things have been going uphill since then.” She chatted on, telling him about her life, and how she had quit drinking.

  Scott watched her quietly. For some reason listening to her helped him get out of his shell. “So why are you flying to Guam?” he asked.

  “To visit my brother in the Air Force. I felt like I needed to get away from Idaho.” She continued, telling him about her nursing job. The plane was slanting downwards.

  “All passengers, please remain seated, we are on our final approach.”

  Laura looked up startled. “That was sure quick.”

  People started stirring as the plane descended to the glittering lights below.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Boeing 737 came in over the water. Scott saw a blur of ground separate from the dark ocean. The tires bounced once on the runway before the plane settled down, all engines screaming and flaps up. He nervously gripped his seat as the plane began to decelerate.

  “It’s amazing how fast that was. We were over the water, and boom! Seconds later on the runway. We didn’t even see the ground until we were on it.” Laura nodded and leaned her head back. “I’m glad we’re here. This trip seemed like forever.”

  A shiny head a couple of seats ahead of them turned and waved a large tattooed arm. “We’ll be on the ground shortly, folks,” he mimicked the flight attendant. “I always wonder in what form I’ll be on the ground?”

  The guys behind him laughed and thumped him on the back. “Sit down Frank, we’re already on the ground.”

  “Joke wouldn’t have bee
n funny earlier.” Frank turned in his seat.

  As the plane taxied to the gate, Scott began to feel lightheaded. It was like his mind was still on Ebi but his body had moved, as if the whole flight was a dream, and he was now waking from it.

  Laura was talking to him. “It was nice to meet you. I don’t meet mission teachers all the time.”

  Scott felt his pulse race. “Uh, yeah it was nice.” He didn’t look at her.

  She cleared her throat, “I’ll bump into you around maybe? How long will you be in Guam?”

  Scott’s mind didn’t register that she was hinting, his mind was too wrapped in the pain of Janet and leaving, and this re-adjustment his mind rebelled against. “Just long enough to get back to the States,” he said without emotion.

  Laura looked disappointed. “You’ll be here for a while, though. We might be in the same area?” She didn’t want to be any more obvious.

  Scott didn’t say anything, so neither did she. He was too absorbed in thought. She bit her lip and turned, frustrated.

  “Your customs declaration form.” The flight attendant pushed a slip at Laura and Scott.

  Scott ignored the pilot’s welcome speech. He stood and shuffled into the aisle, following Laura as she exited the airplane.

  “Thanks for flying with us.” Scott hardly nodded as he passed the friendly pilot. On the jet way, they joined a stream of people walking toward the terminal.

  At the top of a flight of stairs, they entered the domed airport. People were waiting, kissing and hugging around them.

  “There’s my brother,” Laura squealed, and then frowned. Who’s he talking to? she thought. He’s not looking for me. He was talking to a man holding a sign. “That isn’t someone you know holding the ‘Scott’ sign, is it?” She turned finding Scott in the crowd.

  “That is.” Scott stared. He recognized John instantly. He hadn’t changed at all in five years. John looked just like he did at the funeral, but definitely happier. He was standing talking animatedly with another man, his sign hanging limply from one hand, while he gestured with the other.

  “He’s talking to my brother.” Laura pointed. “That’s my brother.”

  The two walked forward until they were close enough to reach out and touch the two men.

  “Charlie” Laura made a waving motion. “I’m here.” Both John and Charlie looked up at the same time, ending their conversation.

  “Hi, sis.” Charlie jumped forward and caught Laura in a bear hug. She giggled.

  John reached out and shook Scott’s hand. “Glad you made it. How’s your foot?” He looked down at Scott’s shoe. “Which one is it?”

  “Oh,” Scott said, embarrassed. “It’s my right foot. It’s doing a lot better now.”

  “Well, from the way your director talked, I considered bringing an ambulance.” John stepped back and surveyed Scott. “Maybe that was overkill.”

  “Oh, no, I’ll be fine.” Scott grinned, embarrassed.

  “That’s good. Let me introduce you to a friend of mine from the base.” John turned to the man standing by Laura. “This is Charles.”

  Scott stepped forward and shook his hand. “Nice meeting you.”

  “This is my little sister, Laura,” Charles said.

  The group chatted for a minute before John waved goodbye and beckoned Scott. “Let’s get your bag. The baggage claim is this way. We still have to go through customs, so let’s try to get home before your aunt Ruth is in bed.” John started walking, then had to turn and wait for Scott. “Sorry, I forgot.”

  Scott limped behind him. “It’s alright.” He forced a smile, despite how tired he felt.

  Laura stood talking with her brother. She glanced at Scott for a long second as he and John disappeared into the crowd. “You know his uncle?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s a friend of mine from the base, great guy,” Charles said.

  “Oh.”

  Charles started to walk away. “We just happened to be waiting for you two at the same time, worked out well.”

  “We just happened to be sitting next to each other on the plane, too.” Laura was contemplating something. She shook her head.

  “You think he’s an interesting guy?” Charles said, suddenly a teasing sparkle in his eye.

  “Stop, Charles,” she sighed. “I had enough of that from you in high school.”

  “Gosh, don’t be so defensive.” Charles raised his hands in mock innocence.

  Laura shook her head. “He’s all depressed about his girlfriend’s death. Anyway, it’s not like he’s even interested in other girls.” She laughed. “What an interesting thought.”

  *****

  John swung Scott’s suitcase into the back of the Toyota Corolla. He closed the hatch and walked around the car. He fumbled with the keys in the dark for a second, then got in.

  “So what does it feel like to be on Guam?” John asked. He switched on the headlights as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Good, well fine, I guess.” Scott sat stiffly in the seat next to John.

  John didn’t say anything for a minute as he steered into traffic. The car glided through the dark streets away from the lights of the airport.

  “We’ll be to Anderson soon.”

  “What’s it like to be a chaplain there?”

  “Oh, it’s a lot of fun and work. These men all need God just like everyone else. There are a lot of thirsty souls in uniform.” He cleared his throat and reached down between the seat with one hand. “I have something I want you to have.” He held up a green book, held shut by a big rubber band. He handed it to Scott.

  Scott held it up and stared at it in the dim light from the dash. “What is it?” He looked at John curiously.

  “It’s a journal of Matthew’s.” He flicked the turn signal on and turned onto another road. “When I was packaging up all the stuff Tiffany didn’t want when Matthew died, I decided to keep it. Matthew talks about you in it, so I thought you’d want it.”

  “Oh.” Scott pulled on the rubber band that wrapped the journal. “Thanks.” He didn’t want to think about his uncle right now. It depressed him.

  They drove up to the gates of Anderson. The guard waved John through with a quick glance at his pass.

  The base was more orderly then the rest of the island, Scott noticed. Even in the dark he could see several large buildings in neat rows.

  “We’re almost there.” John motioned. Scott looked up at a complex of houses they approached. The Corolla pulled up to one and John switched off the engine. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”

  Scott stepped out of the car and looked up at the darkened building. A light shone from behind a curtain. Under the porch light, Scott could see tan paint and a brass nameplate on the door. Chaplain John and Ruth Olsen.

  “Ruth must be up waiting.” The front door opened before he reached the first step.