The Legend of Garison Fitch (Book 3): Lost Time

by White, Samuel Ben

  So he stood up with the full intention of not even looking at who was crying but happened to glance that way, anyway. He was surprised to see that it was Captain Dalmouth.

  Suddenly he was in a quandary. He thought of himself as her friend, but was he enough of a friend to go intrude on such a moment? Or would the friendly thing to do be just letting her cry it out in peace? Of course, he thought, maybe I have something to do with her crying. He told himself there was no reason for that—but he also told himself he didn't have a clue about understanding women, so maybe he was somehow at fault. That just increased the dilemma, because he wasn't sure if she would want to see him or not.

  He finally decided the worst she could do was tell him to go away—which is sort of what he was hoping as crying always made him uncomfortable—but he walked over anyway and asked softly, "Bronwyn? Are you all right?" He knew as soon as he asked it that it was a stupid question, but he had never been very good at such things.

  She looked up in surprise and wiped the tears from her eyes. She stood up and threw her arms around him, then began to cry in earnest. It seemed to Kerrigan that she was letting out a whole lot of something and, while he had no idea what, he figured it would be best to just let it out. So he put his arms around her and held her while she sobbed and some kid who looked to be about twelve picked up the trash in the movie theater and began to sweep before the next show. Kerrigan caught him looking their way curiously, but he quickly looked away and tried to pretend the couple wasn't there.

  As much as he hated to admit it to himself, she felt very good in his arms. But it wasn't just the curves of her body, it was that she was crying. As much as he hated to hear crying—or see someone crying—there was something appealing about knowing that she was comfortable enough to cry in his arms. He remembered holding Susan in his arms when she had cried. That thought took away all the pleasantness of this particular encounter and replaced it with guilt.

  Finally, maybe somehow sensing the discomfort he was feeling and thought he was masking, Bronwyn pulled away from Jason and wiped her eyes again. She looked up at him with a smile and said, "I'm so sorry."

  He shrugged sheepishly and told her truthfully, "I kind of enjoyed it."

  She punched him lightly in the shoulder and said, "Not this. I mean, I'm kind of embarrassed about this—"

  "You needn't be—"

  "I am. No, I'm apologizing for earlier. I just assumed. I mean, I went out with a man in college one time and then I found out he was married and, well, I told myself I'd never do that again. So when you said Susan was your wife, I just assumed—"

  "It's OK, Bronwyn. How could you know? I never talk about it. It was my fault. When I told you about my life, I—um—I'm not sure why, but I didn't mention Susan. As much as I think about her, I almost never speak of her. I don't know if it's because I still can't stand the thought that she's gone, or what. I really don't know."

  Bronwyn wiped her eyes again then said, "The next time I start jumping to conclusions like that, grab me or slap me or something." She held out her hands, as if to signal what had so recently gone on, and said, "As for this, I really was sorry for what I had said to you—"

  "It's all right—"

  "Let me finish. But part of it, part of it's just . . . everything. I'm still an emotional wreck from Crockett. But, but I've never really let it out. I don't know if I've let it all out now, but, well, thank you. Not just for being here, but for letting me let it out. Too many people would, um, they'd tell you to shush or be quiet or something." She wiped her eyes again, then said, "Some of the other women at A&M, they were convinced that we had to act like men. And mostly that meant never showing that you were upset and never, ever crying. I told myself not to listen to them but I did and, now, I think I've been holding things in that would be better off let out in the open." She smiled and added, "Sorry you had to be the one for me to dump it all on."

  "I'm glad, um, that I could be here. I'm glad you didn't run away again." He put his hands on her shoulders and added sternly, "If you ever scare me by jumping in front of a moving train like that, I'll see you busted back so far you'll have to get a promotion to do KP. Do you understand me, Captain?"

  She did a half salute and replied, "Yessir, Major Sir."

  "Now, let's take you on that shopping trip. I know just the place." He offered his arm, which she looked at nervously then took.

  Chapter Nine

  "Tell me, Major," Gustav began in a rare use of Kerrigan's title, "What do you think of Captain Dalmouth?"

  "In what way, sir?" Kerrigan asked nervously. He had the sudden and abject fear that he had been seen . . . admiring her beauty.

  "You will be flying with her and, literally, trusting your life to her. Are you willing to do that?"

  Kerrigan hesitated. They were in the Kirby mess hall and, while there were other people eating there at the time, they were off in a corner and sufficiently out of earshot. Plus, the nature of Kirby being what it was, everyone kept their voices down anyway. Everyone was working on something secret. Jason finally cleared his throat nervously and said, "She is one of the best pilots I have ever seen, Gus—Colonel. Maybe the best. And her record speaks for itself—speaks volumes. Why do you ask?"

  "I have been observing the two of you these last couple days and, I may be wrong, but I sensed some discomfort between the two of you." He paused, as if considering his words, then continued, "Let me be frank, Major. I was not pleased when I learned that the new pilot we were being sent was a woman. I was happy it was someone you knew, so we wouldn't have to go through the dance of learning a new person, but—I do not believe women should be in combat and I do not believe it is good to have two people such as yourselves working so close together."

  Before Jason could object, Colonel Gustav Schulz continued, "You are an officer of the highest caliber. From her record, I believe I can say the same for Captain Dalmouth. But I just do not believe it is a good idea to put a single man and a single woman of similar age in such close proximity. It does not help my feelings that both the young man and the young woman are—I know she is and believe you are, as well—very attractive. The possibility of tensions that will negatively effect the job are too great. But again, I ask you: what do you think of Captain Dalmouth, as a person? Not as a flyer."

  Jason thought for a couple minutes before replying, "I like her. She's a really nice person. I can truthfully see her becoming—over time—one of my best friends. Extremely smart, as well. Her background is in physics, as you know, so I believe she has a better grasp of Eddie than I do."

  "There is a hesitation in your voice. Why?"

  Kerrigan swirled his food around on the plate a moment before finally looking up and saying, "Sir, I don't want to rat on a fellow officer—and what I have to say is more like impressions than concrete facts."

  Gustav nodded and said, "Understood. Then, as your commanding officer, I demand your impressions of Captain Dalmouth. I will take them under the advisement I believe you are offering them."

  "One of the reasons she and I were selected for this job is because we have no family. We're excellent test pilots because, in the likely event we're killed in action, there's no one to answer to. But, well," he hesitated again, struggling for the words, "We're different. Bron—Captain Dalmouth's losses are much more fresh than mine. The grandfather who raised her only died two years ago and, well sir, I do not believe she has really grieved, yet. She's been too busy. Me, everyone I lost has been gone a long time and I've dealt with it.

  "Colonel, sir, I have gotten to know Captain Dalmouth quite well over the last few days. There is a discomfort, as you say, between us. I guess it stems from last Saturday. I believe she finally let out some of the pent up emotion within her and, well, neither of us was sure how to deal with it. Perhaps we have been trying to act as if it—last Saturday—never happened."

  "The two of you," Gustav asked slowly, "You have been . . . intimate?"

  Kerrigan responded firmly, surpri
sed at the accusation, "No sir. No. I haven't kissed her or anything. I mean, she kissed me good-bye when I left Marathon but that was because we thought we'd never see each other again. Since then, no, we have not been intimate. Not physically, anyway. Um, what I'm trying to say, sir, is that I believe the Captain is not as emotionally stable as she should be. Maybe none of us are—with the war and all. I know I could probably use . . . something. I just, I just worry about her, sir."

  "I am in a tough position, you comprehend?" Gustav queried. "I must decide—and decide soon—if another pilot would better suit our needs. I cannot have someone who is—as you say—unstable risking all we have worked for. Nor do I wish to have a—a triste taking place within my ranks." He leaned back and, in what Jason soon perceived to be a mindset held over from his days of studying to be a minister, explained, "Love is wonderful. But within a work place . . . it is like trying to make a flower grow on barren soil. The stress of the work place kills the flower before it can even grow well. A flower that might have grown quite well in any other soil. Add to that that our work place is a military installation in the midst of a war. You comprehend?"

  Jason nodded, "I know exactly what you mean, sir. Familiarity can breed contempt, as they say."

  "Precisely," Gustav, nodded. "Had you met a local girl and begun to, how you say? step out with her, I would not object. Men and women are drawn to each other by the very fiber of their being. But to step out—to fall in love—with a coworker in such an operation as ours, it could be disastrous."

  "As to that, sir," Jason quickly injected, "You need not worry. Yes, I think a lot of Captain Dalmouth. And I am not going to deny that she is an attractive young woman. But, well, it just doesn't seem all that long ago to me that I lost my wife to cancer. It was in this town, in fact, which has brought it all up again in my mind. Everywhere I go in this town I'm reminded of Susan dying here and it would be just about impossible to look at a girl—let alone fall in love—with that mindset. Sir—Gustav—I can't see myself falling in love with anyone in a long time. If I care for Captain Dalmouth, it's more like she's the little sister I never had."

  "But does she think of you as a big brother?"

  "I don't know. I would think that describes how we feel about each other pretty well. We've—I've been so embarrassed I haven't spoken of it. But I hate to think what it might do to her to ship her out right now. If someone's got to go—send me back to Marathon, or where ever. Being a physicist, like I said, she's so much more qualified for this job than I am anyway. Probably a better pilot, too."

  "And then I would get another male pilot and be back where I am today." Gustav took a couple bites, then said sadly, "Truthfully, I knew what I had to do before I asked you to this lunch. I was hoping you could come up with a convincing reason that I should not send her away. It is not fair to place this burden on you, but I had hoped you would talk me out of the course of action I must take."

  Jason wiped his mouth, then slowly put down the napkin and said, "I understand. If I were in your shoes, I'd probably do the same thing. In fact, I kind of had to make the same decision at Crockett once." It suddenly occurred to him that the person he had kept—corporal Shumach, he thought her name was—was now dead and that private he had had reassigned was probably still alive. With a heavy sigh, he asked, "When will you tell her?"

  "This afternoon. We cannot delay."

  "Sir, if you tell her this afternoon, that's going to delay the big jump by another few days—or weeks. We'll have to train someone else, teach 'em about Eddie, the whole thing. Can't we at least make the first big jump? It's scheduled for tomorrow and she's already prepped for it. After the jump, you and Tony'll probably have enough data and what-not to go over for the time it'll take me to break in another pilot, anyway."

  Gustav hesitated, but finally said, "You may have a point there. I would hate to lose any more time. We have the possibility of ending the war right at our fingertips and it would be criminal to delay that unnecessarily."

  "When you do tell her," Kerrigan offered, "I would like to be there. I feel like I owe her that much—out of friendship."

  "It is my responsibility as commander and these things are usually done in private. I will have to think about that, Jason."

  "How can I help you, sir?" Bronwyn asked in a very formal voice as she opened the door to her side of the duplex.

  "I need to talk to you."

  Sensing the urgency in his voice, she invited him inside and said, "Have a seat. Is something wrong?"

  Kerrigan took up her offer of a seat and thought for a moment, before finally saying, "What I'm about to tell you is not mine to divulge but, well, you're my best friend and I can't let you be blindsided again."

  He had sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and Bronwyn dropped into the chair across from him, nervously clutching at the rag she had been using to dry her few dishes. Her hair was back in a loose ponytail and she was wearing a light, cottony house-dress as it was a warm day. He averted his eyes, which really scared her for she thought that a pretty good indication of how bad the news must be. Tentatively, she asked, "What?"

  Jason was looking at the kitchen table because when he had last looked up Bronwyn had been standing between him and the screen door. The house faced west, she was wearing a cotton dress, and he no longer had any doubts about how nice her figure was. Kerrigan took a deep breath before blurting out, "They're shipping you out, Bronwyn."

  She let out a held breath as she practically exclaimed, "Thank goodness. By the look on your face I thought someone had died." She put a hand to her chest as she started breathing again, nice relaxing breaths that she had been holding in ever since he had jerked his eyes away from her. She brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and asked, "Why?"

  "You're not upset?"

  "I'm very upset but I'm getting used to the fact that I don't like my life. Why are they shipping me out?"

  Kerrigan ran his fingers across the pattern in the formica tabletop for a while before replying, "Gustav—and please don't ever let him know I told you—thinks it is not wise to allow two young, single people to work so closely together. He is afraid it might lead to—um—tensions on the team."

  Bronwyn chuckled lightly, "As much as I would like to slam my fist down on the table and be indignant about being stereotyped . . . " She could hear in her head the speech Major Ambrose would have made about such an accusation—Major Ambrose who was a woman commander of an all mail flight crew and never missed an opportunity to let people know about that. "I have to admit he's probably right."

  "What?" It was Jason's turn to be surprised and he finally looked up, thankful that, sitting as she was, he could no longer see her figure as clearly through the dress.

  She leaned over and gave him the friendly punch in the gut that had become her counterpoint to Tony's slap on the back. "I should have known that would be your reaction," she chided.

  "My reaction to what?" he asked, dumbfounded, rubbing his stomach for this punch had had a little more force than most.

  She blushed, then steeled her courage and said, "Jason Kerrigan, I've had a crush on you almost since the first time I saw you walking across the flight line at Crockett." At his shocked look, she added, "Seriously, if I had known that we were actually going to be paired for this assignment, I would have turned it down for just the reasons Gustav wants to ship me out of here."

  "You're kidding."

  She shook her head. "When I was assigned to Kirby I didn't know it would be as your partner. I just thought I'd have a good friend already on the post. If I had known we would be partners, well . . . " she let it go there and waved her hand in front of her face to fan herself. It was not from the Texas heat she was trying to cool off, though.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  She shook her head and laughed genuinely. Wiping tears of laughter from her face, she told him, "I jumped onto a train platform in front of all my surviving colleagues and planted a kiss on you that untied your shoes! Wh
y do you think I was so mad when I thought you were married? And when I'm found crying in a movie theater over one of the worst movies I've ever seen, why do you think I let you—wanted you to—hold me like that?"

  Seeing that Kerrigan was so embarrassed he was speechless, she asked seriously, "Where are they shipping me?"

  "I don't know. All I know is that I was able to talk Gustav into holding out until we make tomorrow's jump."

  "Thanks. I was really looking forward to that."

  They sat there in silence for quite a while, occasionally looking up at each other, then looking away in something that was like embarrassment but not exactly. As they sat there, the room went from the late evening sun Jason had walked in with to a dark broken only by the fireflies and junebugs smacking against the window. Finally, Bronwyn broke the silence. "Jason?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Since I've already completely embarrassed myself and bared my soul, can I ask you a question?"

  "Sure," he replied cautiously.

  "When this war is finally over—probably because you and Eddie bombed the bejeebers out of Tokyo and Berlin—can I look you up?"

  "Isn't the guy supposed to ask that?"

  Even in the darkness he could see—no feel—the smile on her face as she answered, "I waited for him to ask it but it didn't seem like he ever would, so I figured I had better." After another long bout of silence, she reiterated, "Well, can I?"

  "If I don't find you first."

  Bronwyn and Jason met at his car for their daily carpool and exchanged pleasant if somewhat strained "Good Mornings". They had sat in the darkened kitchen the night before until after ten before Jason had finally excused himself saying he wanted a good night's sleep before the big jump the next day.

  As he stood up, Bronwyn had lightly touched his hand and said, "Thanks for telling me. Did you really mean what you said?"