Dogfight

 

The silver above his ears shines like chrome fenders against the dark paint of a 57' Chevy. His finger circles his ear as if he was dialing the combination of a lock. He gazes out the double paned window with warm, but tired eyes as the plane banks to the west. Shafts of sun beam into the cabin, casting shadows, shifting with the turn of the craft. “Just another hour or so”, adjusting his glasses, he reassures his inquisitive young granddaughter. A moment passes him as he leans back and closes his eyelids.

 

He once knew these skies. Barrel rolls and V-formations play out most vividly behind his still, but worn face. Bandits and Bogey's. Combat air patrol (CAP) in search of enemy positions. Clouds mark the terrain of dogfights lost and won. Blue skies once contrasted this bloody battlefield in the sky. Adrenaline powered hearts. His memory plays as if on autopilot, and he hears what he thought he had once forgotten...

 

“Three o'clock” exclaims the familiar voice of 'Eagle Eye' John Arnold. Dives and climbs and rolls, eluding enemy fire shot from the 'rising sun'. “Bogey! Get em in your sights Rog, in your sights!” Veering and swaying as cross hairs pass through the target, left...right....left. Shots pulse from the side of his plane. Ammunition disappears into the clouds. Altitude drops, then rises as the enemy vanishes. Just as quickly he reappears. “Check six! Roger, he's behind you!” Fire shoots out from the tail. “I'm going to J-jink! Eagle!”. He wiggles the throttle, viciously. The cockpit rattles as bullets whiz past, skimming the skin of the FM-2 wildcat. In ducking fashion he points the nose 45 degrees toward the earth. In a near stall the plane dives beyond the clouds. The sounds of the propeller fades. His head slams the dash in the cockpit, and blackness corners in his eyes, only for a moment. The glistening of the sea creeps in. The throttle yanked back as daylight enters his focus and panic shivers his hairs, but his training proceeds him. Panic rattles his goggled covered vision as he struggles to pull his position upright with the earth. A wave of relief passes, then quickly replaced with trepidation. “You get him Eagle?, Eagle?” Did he punch Elvis? The sound of only the rushing air came through the radio. He gazes out the window awaiting the response. Did he eject? He wondered. The line of the sea diminishes into the late indigo sky. He levels the Ailelron and parallels to the horizon. “Eagle..Eagle?” Sweat drips along his scalp and mixes with traces of blood. “Eagle..on the air? Eagle?” His craft is steady with the clouds. The sky is now eerily silent. Alone he was, 15,000 feet, in thin air.

 

“...On behalf of our flight crew we would like to welcome you to Orlando Florida, home of Disney World” He smiles. Disney World. The words repeat silently in his head as he reaches for his luggage in the overhead bin. His Granddaughter pulls on his arm. “Are we going to see Mickey?!” She says.

“Yes, we are going to see Mickey and all of the princesses”. The flight attendants stood at the door, bidding farewell to the passengers along with Pilot and Co-Pilot. Their name tags attached to the lapel. Before him stood a man equal to his age and height. His name read 'J. Arnold'. “Have a good flight sir?”, he asks with a delightful smile. And he would be content with any answer the man with the silver sided hair gave. He did answer, but only with another question. “John?” he asked. The Captain hesitated, and only managed to smile.

 

He led his Granddaughter by the hand into the place of imagination and dreams. Into a place where anything is possible if you believe. And he wanted to believe. He really did. The drone of Disney music echoed in the terminal, faintly. A whole new world? Perhaps.

 

The skies would always be there to dream. Just as Cinderella's castle peaked into the beautiful blue of the Florida sky. The never-ending blue sky.

 

Reviews

[bella luna]

This one is very interesting........I like the journey you took the reader on.