Chapter 16: Walking it Off

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27 November 2016 – The United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, Colorado

Storm clouds of rage flickered across Devin Fairhaven’s face as he took a step forward.

“You little fucking bitch!” he roared.

“Fairhaven!” a new voice barked from the hallway.

Sabrina went immediately to attention. Whoever it was deserved the military courtesy more than Fairhaven ever would. When Fairhaven spun around he too went to attention.

The ice-blue eyes of Cadet First Class Alejandra de la Cruz burned through both of them as she stepped into the room. Her glacial stare had been honed while glaring at batters from the mound during years of softball. The cadet squadron commander let them stew in the growing silence as she stalked toward the pair.

“Fairhaven, the squadron lounge in ten minutes,” de la Cruz said in a barely-audible voice while glaring at Sabrina.

“But this little …” was as far as he got before her steely gaze pierced him again.

“Ten minutes!” she barked. “Dismissed!” Fairhaven glared at Sabrina one more time before marching out of the room.

De la Cruz turned back to Sabrina. She paused a few moments.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Cadet?”

“Ma’am, may I make a statement?” Sabrina asked while staring straight ahead.

“Go ahead.”

Sabrina broke protocol again and looked her squadron commander in the eye.

“Ma’am, I will swallow the doolie-hazing bullshit here to a point, but I draw the line at blatant disrespect, especially disrespect because of my gender.”

“Knox, you’ll have to deal with that for years if you stay in the Air Force, or wherever you work in the future.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, again: bullshit! Meek and mild doesn’t describe cadets who fight and scratch and claw their way into this place, nor should it describe those of us who want to stay here. ‘Go along to get along’ has never been in my phrasebook.”

“You’re painting a big target on your own back with that attitude, and what you said to Fairhaven isn’t going to help. You should already know how word gets around this place.”

“They get away with it because no one stands up to them, ma’am. They learn they can do what they want because their friends protect them, they close ranks, and administration tells us to handle cadet matters ourselves unless it involves active-duty personnel or civilian employees. I bet they don’t know a tenth of what goes on at our level.”

“Knox, you’re going to talk your way right out of this place if you’re not careful.”

“I gave up a lot of things to come here, ma’am. One thing I refuse to give up is my self-respect.”

The firstie stared at the four-dig once again. She was right, but she’d find out the hard way how wrong she was, too.

“Okay, Knox, play it your way. You can consider your strategy during your five punishment tours for insubordination to a senior cadet.”

Sabrina’s eyes snapped back to the vague, indeterminate point one looks at when at attention. Sabrina would spend five hours marching on the Terrazzo in full uniform carrying her rifle.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Alejandra de la Cruz leaned in and whispered one more piece of advice: “Watch your back …”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The squadron commander turned and left the room.

Five minutes later a knock on the door caused Sabrina to look up from her desk.

“Hi, I’m Linda Stockley,” the blonde at the door said. “They’re transferring me to this flight and room.”

“Hi, Linda, I’m Sabrina Knox,” she answered as she rose to shake hands. “Where are they moving you from?”

“Upstairs. Charlie Flight.” Her new roommate had already been in their squadron but was new to Alpha Flight.

“Need a hand moving anything else?”

“Most everything’s in my duffle or this box here,” Linda replied, indicating the bag over her shoulder and the medium-sized box in her hands. “I could use some help moving my trunk later, though. Where are you from?”

“Lancaster, Mass. The north-central part of the state. You?”

“Neeley, Idaho. A little place on the Snake River south of American Falls, near Pocatello in southeastern Idaho.”

The two new roommates worked to bring Linda’s side of the room up to SAMI standards. Talking as they worked, they found they had as little in common as Sabrina and Mandy had initially: Linda came from another farming family, Sabrina didn’t. Linda was one of eight children but had little in the way of extended family, Sabrina’s family stretched for miles. Sabrina liked ‘80s and ‘90s rock music along with music from her own generation’s pop performers while Linda preferred country – which Sabrina could not stand. Sabrina would pursue a high-tech degree, while Linda was aiming for one Sabrina hadn’t heard of being offered before coming to USAFA: the Bachelor of Science in English.

In English she and Linda found some common ground to build from. They talked about their favorite writers, and how Sabrina’s mom had once been an English teacher.

“I want to be a technical writer, and how technical is the Air Force?” Linda asked. “Think of all the experience I’ll rack up! I’ll likely wind up as a personnel officer or something while I’m in. Technical writing will still be there when I get out.”

“You’re not planning on going career?” Sabrina asked.

“Right now? No. Who knows what I’ll decide to do in seven or eight years when the end of my active-duty commitment is coming up, though.”

At irregular intervals Linda noticed male cadets glaring at Sabrina as they walked by their door. Not all of them, but enough to arouse her curiosity.

“What the hell’s their problem?” she muttered.

“Who?”

“All these guys walking by giving you the death stare.”

“Probably friends of a two-dig I just locked horns with.”

“Oh? Do tell …”

“Just a prick who’s been riding me since the beginning of the academic year. I’m beginning to wonder if he’s the reason my old roommate bailed.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Now that I look back on the semester, Mandy started withdrawing from our group of friends starting back in October some time. Remembering some of the comments this guy made I wonder if he was abusing her more than verbally.”

“Sounds like he needs to sit on a long, sharpened stake.”

“Okay, Vlad the Impaler, maybe we can make that happen? Then again, I doubt JAG would find the humor in that …”

“Probably not.”

The two finished putting the room together just in time for ACQ, which meant Linda got to see Sabrina meditate for the first time.

“Are you Muslim or something?”

“Meditation, not prayer. Mom’s Buddhist background rubbed off on my brother and me as kids. That and the karate …”

“Is she Japanese?”

“American of Japanese descent. Her parents were born in Japan but she was born in Washington State. Honestly, if I had to claim any religion Greek Orthodox might win out, but I don’t really practice any of them.”

“So you’re not a Christian?”

‘Oh, do we have to do this?’ Sabrina sighed to herself. “And what exactly is ‘being a Christian?’ Basically, being kind to others, right? Fairhaven isn’t being very Christian, and I bet he goes to church every Sunday. You could cite how they treat us from BCT to Recognition as an example of unchristian behavior by everyone here. I prefer to not act like an asshole without worrying about what I call myself.”

“Well …”

“How about we agree we have differing views? That’s what America is supposed to be all about, right? Especially that whole ‘Freedom of Religion’ thing …”

The conversation broke down at that point. Both cadets sat silently at their desks as they tried to get back into a routine after the holiday by burying themselves in their coursework. Sabrina resigned herself to the fact she might not develop the same easy relationship with Linda that she once had with Mandy.


Sabrina fought not to roll her eyes in Fairhaven’s face the next morning. The upperclassman stopped her on the T-zo as she tried to get to Fairchild Hall. He berated her for five minutes. He also cut her off whenever she tried to answer the questions he threw at her. Only a passing cadet first class ordering him to let Sabrina get to her class saved her. She sprinted to Fairchild and made it to her classroom just in time.

Sabrina made it a point to track down the other cadet later to thank him. He was Bravo Flight’s commander.

“Don’t thank me yet, Knox,” he told her. “Fairhaven’s gonna start getting his posse together and you’ll be in the shit for sure. They’re gonna dog you from now until Kingdom Come, and my intervention won’t do you any favors.”

“Sir, may I …”

“Drop the seven-basic-responses bullshit and speak freely, Cadet.”

“Sir, you didn’t have to do anything today but you did. You could have let him keep going until I was guaranteed to be late for class, but you spoke up. As I told the cadet squadron commander, I understand the harass-the-four-dig crap and I’ll deal with it for as long as I have to – to a point. You stepping in as you did, sir, could be the first step in addressing the elephant which continues to be in the room here: the culture of sexual harassment which seems to be tacitly approved at all levels.”

Damarius Briscoe scoffed at that. “I think you’re deluding yourself if you think my actions will carry that much weight.”

“Maybe I am, sir. But if you stepped in when Fairhaven was pulling that, what’s to say you won’t step in when another fellow cadet starts with ‘you don’t belong here’ or sexual innuendo?”

The other cadet looked thoughtful. He glanced over Sabrina’s shoulder at the clock on his desk. “It’s almost time for ACQ, Knox. You’re welcome for the intervention but stand by for the BS from him and his buddies to get pretty deep. Dismissed.”


“Told you she was good,” Maneet Anand muttered to her fellow cadet instructors as they watched Sabrina soar high above the academy airfield on the first Friday in December.

“Yeah, that loop was a thing of beauty,” Tad Domenico replied.

“You think that was good, watch what she does next.”

“What?” Tamara Nemecek gasped. “You can’t do that in a glider!”

“She just did,” Anand said with a hint of pride in her voice. Sabrina was her student, after all.

‘Never mind that I didn’t teach that girl a damn thing …’ she thought. ‘By rights, she should have been the instructor.’

High above their heads, Sabrina was having the time of her life. It was in the air where she felt the most alive, the most unrestrained. Flying was the reason she came to the academy and was what helped her to ignore the ongoing chatter. Sadly, her solo was at an end and she prepared to land.

Domenico and Nemecek both whistled as Sabrina smoothly Chandelled her craft from the downwind leg of the traffic pattern and banked right into her final approach.

“Maneet, please tell me she’s gonna become an instructor!” Tad whispered.

“I’ve pushed that idea every time we went up,” Anand replied, “ever since I flew with her for the first time.”

Sabrina touched down on the academy’s Astroturf runway built for gliders. The turf kept the glider’s delicate structures away from the more-abrasive tarmac of regular runways. The three firsties and a host of Sabrina’s classmates approached as she opened the cockpit canopy and secured her aircraft.

“If you don’t become an instructor, Knox, it’ll be a crime against aviation,” Tad Domenico said as he walked up. He shook her hand after Maneet Anand.

“It’s definitely on my radar, sir.”

“All right, Cadet, take that nameplate off your flight suit,” Anand said with a grin.

Sabrina returned the grin as the rasp of releasing Velcro filled her ears. Anand stepped up to her and placed a new blue and gray nameplate on her chest, one with cadet flight wings above Sabrina’s name.

“Well done!” Anand gushed, shaking Sabrina’s hand again.

“Thank you, ma’am!”

“You’re so far ahead of your class it’s not even funny – not that they’re bad, mind you – you’re just such a natural.”

“Thank you for the opportunity to solo, ma’am.”

“You earned it. Remember that oral board and written exam you suffered through last week instead of our session when the weather was crap? You aced that test – again, no surprise. Now, you’ll need to keep your proficiency up so you can crush the instructor upgrade in Airmanship 461 during your third class year. Applications for fall 461 classes are usually due by mid-April.”

Sabrina eyed the World War II-era glider pilot wings on her instructor’s nameplate. The academy had awarded them to student glider instructors for over a decade. The National World War II Glider Pilots Association gave permission for the academy to award them to cadets to keep that heritage alive.

“Do you think they’ll take my application now, ma’am?”


‘I’m not sure this was a good tactical decision …’

The ten-knot wind blowing snow across the T-zo that Sunday made Sabrina rethink her decision to try and walk off her punishment tours before Winter Break.

‘I’m surprised I can still feel my feet …’

Anyone walking tours would normally be in full service-dress uniform. Due to today’s weather, cadre allowed Sabrina to wear her ABUs, winter parka, fleece jacket, watch cap, and a balaclava for her tour. She slipped chemical hand warmers into her gloves and boots before coming outside, which was the only reason she hadn’t dropped her rifle or fallen on her face yet.

While her uniform kept her warm, the watch cap also allowed melted snow to seep through it and trickle down the back of her neck. She was glad to see the building and grounds crew shoveling the snow off the T-zo or she would have drifted off the marble tiles long ago. She didn’t need to give Fairhaven or his sycophants any other reason to get in her face.

With no one else in their right mind outside voluntarily, Sabrina was able to zone out like during her workouts and tough out two hours of marching. Her cell phone alarm let her know when two hours was up and she headed back to Vandenberg.

“Cadet! Hold up!” she heard one of the grounds crew call out. The man jogged over holding the broom he used to get the snow out of the seams of the tiles. “Hold your arms out straight and close your eyes for a second.” When she did as he asked, she felt the broom knock most of the snow off of her.

“Hey, thanks!”

“Anyone crazy enough to be out here voluntarily deserves a little extra help!”

“Plus it’ll keep me from tracking snow across the lobby …”

“Work smarter, not harder, Cadet!”

Sabrina laughed while waving her thanks to the man and headed inside to clean up. She checked in with the squadron CQ and made sure the last two hours of her punishment balance were removed.

“I figured you’d get lost out there and they wouldn’t find you until the spring thaw!” Linda commented when Sabrina stepped into their room.

“That was a distinct possibility. I think the grounds crew was keeping an eye on me.” Sabrina wiped down her rifle – a non-firing replica her father would have called ‘a rubber duck’ – and put it back in the holder on their wall.

“How many more tours left to go?”

“I was out there for two hours, so that was the last of them.” Sabrina gathered up her shower stuff and a clean uniform. “I’m gonna go stand under some hot water until dinner.” It was only two in the afternoon.

Linda’s laughter followed her down to the latrine.

As she relaxed under the spray, Sabrina considered the unspoken truce she and Linda had forged after Thanksgiving. As long as they left any discussion of religion alone, they got along fine. Linda still hung around with her friends from Charlie Flight more than anyone in Alpha, but differing flight training schedules would likely soon change that.

“Why weren’t you in the proper uniform while you were walking your tour, Knox?” Fairhaven asked when he stepped in front of her as she tried to return to her room.

Sabrina went to attention and stared through him. “I was, sir.”

“That is not a proper response, Cadet. ‘Yes, sir. No, sir. Sir, I do not understand …’ THOSE are proper responses!” He was one of the few upperclassmen still insisting she or other four-digs use the seven basic responses at this point in the semester.

“Yes, sir.” Sabrina kept the contempt from her voice. It wouldn’t do her any good if he heard that.

“‘Yes, sir,’ what, Cadet?”

“Sir, I was replying to your corrective statement about the seven basic responses.”

“And what about your improper uniform?”

“Sir, may I make a statement?”

“You’re trying my patience, you little shit … What is it?”

“Sir, my wear of ABUs and other protective uniform items was approved by the cadet flight commander, who also notified the charge of quarters prior to my tour. I was in the proper uniform for the conditions, sir.”

Devin Fairhaven ground his teeth at being bested in a battle of wits again by the annoying C4C in front of him.

“One of these days, Knox,” he hissed. “One of these days your smart little mouth is gonna get you in a heap of trouble, and I’m gonna be there to see it … Mark my words: your days here are numbered!”

Sabrina stood silent, immobile and kept her eyes focused somewhere far away. Fairhaven tried waiting her out but was again outclassed. He blinked first and simply walked away. Sabrina counted to thirty in her head before finishing the walk to her room.

“You weren’t kidding about being in the shower until supper, were you?” Linda chuckled.

“I got held up.”

Linda glanced at the door. “Fairhaven?” she whispered. Sabrina only nodded in return.


Sabrina’s first exam was for Japanese 221, normally a sophomore-level class. She validated – USAFA-speak for ‘placed out of’ – both Japanese 131 and 132 after BCT without breaking a sweat, but still wanted to take language classes. She once considered studying for a minor in Japanese, but with becoming an instructor pilot now a possibility she decided to concentrate her efforts there.

The exam posed little difficulty for her and she finished ahead of most of the class. Sabrina collected her things and brought the exam booklet to the instructor.

“I’m not at all surprised to see you up here this soon, Cadet Knox,” the man whispered in Japanese as he smiled at her. “I suppose another suggestion that you pursue a minor in Japanese will fall on deaf ears once again?”

“Sorry, sir,” she replied with a smile of her own. “I think I’m going to be a glider instructor pilot instead.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised, Sabrina.” The man glanced behind her, causing her to turn. Another of her classmates waited to turn in his exam. She turned back to her instructor. “Given your work over the semester, I doubt you have anything to worry about,” he said raising her exam booklet. “Have a good break and I’ll see you for 222 next semester.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a good break also.”

Sabrina walked out of the exam room, headed for the building exit.

“Hey, Sabrina! Wait up!” her classmate called out. Since he was an upperclassman, Sabrina went to attention and waited. “At ease, Sabrina, at ease … I was just wondering how you think you did?”

“Pretty well, sir …”

“Rich, remember? Rich Ka’uhane”

“I really shouldn’t, sir, no offense. I don’t want to pick up any bad habits before Recognition.”

“I understand,” he sighed. “So, you think you did okay?”

“Oh, sure. You have to understand, sir, I’ve been speaking Japanese since I was in diapers. My mom’s parents are from Japan and I grew up next door to them, too. At home we don’t speak English, we speak Japanese.”

“I can see why class came so easy for you. What were you and Doctor Hasegawa talking about just now? My Japanese isn’t good enough to follow a conversation at that speed.”

“He asked if I was interested in a Japanese minor. I told him I was probably going to be a glider instructor pilot instead.”

“No kidding?”

“No, sir. I’m hoping to be selected for Airmanship 461 next fall. That’s the IP upgrade for Soaring.”

“Well, best of luck. Have a good break.”

“Thank you, sir. You as well.”

Sabrina dashed back to her room to get cleaned up before lunch formation. After lunch would be her AP Calculus II final.


Three days later Sabrina rubbed at her gritty eyes.

Holy shit … she sighed, five exams in four days, plus my research paper for Behavioral Sciences … I’d say ‘I survived,’ but I’m not sure I did.

She was wrung out.


Her ringing cell phone startled her awake sometime later.

“Hello?”

“Sabrina? It’s Jim Logan from Baystate Air Charters.”

“Hey, Mister Logan, how are you?” Mister Logan was BAC’s chief pilot and had flown her family’s flights for many years.

“I should be asking you that. The schedule your dad gave us indicated your last final ended about an hour ago.”

“Remember that movie where the one character asks, ‘But did you die?’ That’s about how I feel.”

Jim Logan laughed into the phone. “Yeah, I don’t miss those days that’s for sure, though I’ve had check rides that made me feel the same way … I’m just calling to confirm that you’re going to be at Colorado Springs Airport tomorrow morning about ten o’clock local time?”

“A-firmative, sir!”

“Sounds good, Sabrina,” he laughed again. “We’ll have the aircraft prepped and be airborne fifteen minutes after you arrive at COS. We won’t waste a minute of the two weeks you have off.”

“Sounds good, Mister Logan! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Sabrina.”

At worst Sabrina would be home in Massachusetts by five in the afternoon, Eastern time, depending on which kind of jet they sent to pick her up. The thought she’d eat dinner with her family tomorrow night made her smile.


Sabrina cracked open an eye when her alarm began blaring at 0530.

‘Minutes …’ she groused as she shut the alarm off, hoping she hadn’t woken Linda. ‘In less than five hours I’m leaving for two weeks and I have to call stupid Minutes …’

She levered herself out of bed and shuffled to her desk. She woke her laptop and checked the uniform of the day.

‘At least it’s only ABUs and not service-dress …’

She pulled the correct uniform out of her closet and dressed. She moved slowly, quietly so Linda could try to get another half-hour of sleep.

“What’s the uniform?” came the muffled question from the darkness.

“ABUs.” A muffled grunt, then nothing.

Sabrina grabbed her shower bucket and towel and slipped into the hallway. In the latrine she stripped back down for a quick shower. Four-digs are required to be in the uniform of the day at all times if outside their room or the latrine. She would also be required to wear her service uniform for the flight home and back.

Her hygiene needs attended to, she returned her things to her room. Sabrina made sure she stood at attention in the hall by 0600. The cadet second class finishing her overnight CQ duty counted down the seconds until 0600. On the hour she gave the signal for the four C4Cs spaced out down the hall to begin calling Minutes.

Unlike Sabrina and her three compatriots, the other cadets nearby didn’t need to consult their laptops to learn what the uniform of the day was – that was part of the information the four chanted out. The four in the hall repeated their chant over and over until 0630 when they were released for breakfast.

Seated in Mitchell Hall by 0700 with four thousand other cadets, Sabrina finished eating by 0720. Those cadets with exams that morning returned to their rooms, then dashed off to the appropriate places. Sabrina, who received permission to leave before tomorrow’s official release date, checked and double-checked her service-dress uniform – the uniform she would wear for her flight home.

Her eyes lingered on her National Defense Service Medal and Air Force Training ribbons, her first decorations, before drifting onto the silver wings above them denoting a cadet solo flight. The first wings awarded to her by the Air Force. The first of five or six different ones she hoped to earn during her time in the service.

Sabrina shook herself from her daydreams and finished packing. Next came the room check, making sure her side was in SAMI condition. Attention to detail, always.

Finally it was time to change uniforms. Doing so Sabrina smoothed her ABUs out before rehanging them in the closet. She had worn them for maybe three hours and they were still in good shape. Grabbing her bags and her cover she walked down the hall to check out.

“You’re all set, Knox,” CQ C3C Christa Del Greco told her. “Have a good break.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You as well.”

With the winds off the mountain range today Sabrina was grateful she didn’t have to wait long for her taxi.

“Good morning, Cadet,” the driver greeted her when he hopped out to put her bags in the trunk. Once in the warm car, the cabbie asked, “The airport here in town, right? One of the FBOs and not the commercial aviation terminal?”

“That’s right, sir,” she replied and named the FBO.

“Right. Be about a half-hour drive. So, where you from?”

She and the cabbie had a pleasant drive that morning. Despite the wind, it was a bright, sunny day and, since rush hour had already passed, there was almost no traffic. The man was personable without being intrusive. He drove enough USAFA cadets to places over the years to have already asked the common questions.

“Here you are, Cadet,” the man said as he pulled up to the FBO. He got out and pulled her bags from the trunk. Sabrina used her phone to pay the fare electronically, adding a generous tip. “Thank you very much!” he exclaimed.

“Thank you, sir. Have a good holiday.” She carried her bags inside.

Jim Logan leaned against the service desk chatting up the pretty young lady behind it. He straightened up and smiled at Sabrina as she approached.

“Howdy, Cadet! Ready to go?” he asked, reaching for her bags.

“As the paying customer, shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Need I remind you your father’s the ‘paying customer?’”

“Blah, blah, blah. Less talkie, more workie!”

Logan rolled his eyes to the young lady at the counter, drawing laughter, before turning for the door to the flight line. Once on the tarmac, Sabrina started giving him the business.

“Mister Logan!” she laughed. “That girl is young enough to be your daughter! Hell, she’s probably my age, which creeps me right the hell out!”

“But she’s not my daughter, Sabrina.” Sabrina rolled her eyes at his answer. “Sabrina, I’m fifty, not DEAD!”

“She would’ve left you a broken, dried-up husk of a man …”

“Yes,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Yes, she would …”


Three hours later the screech of rubber announced their arrival at Hanscom Field in Bedford, Massachusetts. The sun had set during the flight. With the cabin lights on Sabrina could only see the airfield lights outside the jet’s windows. Taxiing to the FBO and deplaning took less than ten minutes at this small, reliever airport.

Sabrina gave Jim Logan and his copilot Doug Vrubel hugs of thanks after they escorted her into the FBO. Knowing her goals, they let her sit in the copilot’s seat for part of the flight home – not quite allowed by BAC, but neither the flight crew nor Sabrina were about to say anything. When her eyes adjusted Sabrina scanned the waiting area, trying to locate Alex or her parents.

“Aren’t you going to even say hello to your grandfather, Sabrina?” the voice in her right ear asked, startling her.

She caught a glimpse of Grandpa Joe’s smiling face before giving him a huge hug. Grandma Marisa stood behind him and Sabrina hugged her next.

“Oh, I’ve missed you, Sweetie!” Marisa gushed.

“Seems like longer than a month doesn’t it, Grandma? You guys got stuck with shuttle duty, huh?”

“‘Stuck?’ Hell, no! We volunteered!” Joe replied.

“You were in the military, Grandpa. You should know better than to volunteer.”

“Yeah, well, sue me. We’re meeting everyone at a place in West Concord for dinner, so let’s get moving.”

Marisa let Sabrina have the front passenger seat and sat behind her husband.

“How do you think you did this semester, Sabrina?”

“Academically? I think I crushed it, Grandma. We’ll see when I get my grades, though.”

“How about the rest of it, Sabrina?” Joe asked. “All the non-academic bull you have to deal with?”

“Eh,” she replied with a waggle of a horizontal hand. “It’s the price you pay if you wanna play the game, Grandpa!”

“Might have heard your dad say that a time or two …” Joe mused.

That weekend, everyone at her Aunt Marilyn’s house for the family Christmas party wanted to talk to Sabrina. She nearly missed out on her favorites at dinner she was in such demand. Jane, in particular, wanted to talk to her about her flying and the glider IP opportunity.

“Well, they started throwing questions at me one day, then had me take a written test. I wasn’t really sure what was going on until they told me I passed the tests with flying colors and gave me the chance to solo early. They said it happens, just not very often.”

“That’s terrific, Sabrina! Are you going to take the upgrade next semester?”

“Next fall. I’ll be taking a bunch of credits next semester. I’m hoping to get a slot for free-fall training over the summer, too.”

“‘Free fall?’”

“The academy’s jump course, Airmanship 490, is free-fall jumps like civilian skydiving, not static line jumps like Dad did. Same badge, though. I could go to Benning for jump school, but 490 is right at the academy.”

“And academically you’re doing well?”

“I feel like I have been,” she shrugged. “We’ll see when my grades come in.”

“Which is when?”

“Should be the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Before I have to report back.”

“Seems like your time is pretty well accounted for there.”

“It is, but there’s still plenty of free time if you manage your time well. That’s been the key, Jane, time management and finding non-USAFA things to do. One of the best hiking trails around is on the academy grounds, so I wouldn’t even need a pass to go off-base.” Sabrina pulled out her phone. “See? This is the view of the academy from Eagle’s Peak.” She brought up another image. “And this is a lake you can get to from the trail network … I only got to hike around the academy a few times before winter closed in.”

“Wow! The scenery is amazing, Sabrina!”

“You must have flown missions out west at some point, Jane?”

“Usually not up in the mountains, though. Mountain Home a time or two, one to Fairchild in your mom’s hometown, but that’s it. Most of the missions I flew were to places with interesting scenery, but not mountains like that. Airfields for C-5s tend to be on flatter terrain.”

“I would hope so,” Sabrina chuckled.


Naomi Taggert’s squeal of joy echoed through the lobby of the restaurant. She bounded over to Sabrina and gave her a tight hug. Shawn Hurt and Erica Thorisson both grinned at the sight before hugging their friend as well.

“You look great!” Naomi gushed.

“So do you, Naomi. How’s UVM?”

“I love it! The area is so beautiful!”

“Last I talked to you, you weren’t sure what you were going to study.”

“I’ve decided on a degree in Radiation Sciences. I want to be a Radiation Therapist.”

“Wow! That’s a great choice, Naomi. Are there internships involved?”

“Yeah, they have virtual trainers and we’ll work with RTs at UVM Medical Center in Burlington for a whole semester. How about you? Still Astronautical Engineering?”

“You know it. It took me a little while to get my feet under me out at USAFA, and I’m lucky I didn’t fall behind. I’d have never stood a chance at catching up.”

“Did you take any mental health days to get your head on straight?” Shawn asked.

“You mean cutting class? No way. That’s a ticket to some serious trouble there. Class attendance is mandatory.”

“What about all the military stuff? Was it a big adjustment?”

“The actual military training, no. It’s all the other stuff that goes with it there: the constant scrutiny, constant attention to detail, always being in one kind of uniform or another. This is only the second time I’ve been officially allowed to wear civvies since I reported in June. Still, I’ve made some good friends, and we have fun where we can.” She pulled out her phone and showed Naomi pictures of the Cadet Area, the chapel, and the mountains in the background.

“It’s already snowed out there already?”

“Elevation on campus is just over seven thousand feet so, yeah. The mountains had snow by the end of September. Gorgeous color on the trees out there, too. The aspens turn a wondrous gold and cover most of the mountains out there.”

The hostess interrupted to tell them their table was ready.

“How’s Fitchburg State, Shawn? You playing hockey for them?”

“Yeah, forward like before. It’s nice to be back in the Wallace Civic Center, too. It’s like coming home. I’m not getting much playing time yet as a freshman, but that’s okay. I’m hoping I can keep playing until my eligibility runs out, but the CJ program has to be my main focus.”

“How about you, Erica?”

“No, I didn’t make the hockey team this year.”

“Nice to see your sense of humor hasn’t changed at all! I was asking how you like Hampshire.”

“I like it. I want to study speech-language pathology, so their Cognitive Science school of thought is a good fit.”

“Do you need a doctorate to be a speech pathologist?”

“To practice? No, only a master’s but you can get doctorates in both research and clinical speech and language pathology. I want to be a clinician, but I’m not sure if I’ll pursue a doctorate just yet.”

“What about everybody else? Where are they?”

“Well, Pete’s staying in the San Francisco area for Christmas. Mrs. K. is heading out there to be with him. Tommy’s visiting his mom’s side of the family in Maryland. Ruby kinda dropped out of contact after you left for Colorado. Not sure what’s going on there and her mom doesn’t say much when we see her at Dunks. Vic, Faith, and the rest were fringe players in our high school group so we haven’t heard from them at all.”

“That’s too bad, they were a good part of our group.”

“Did you get your grades yet, Sabrina?” Shawn asked.

“Yeah,” she answered, looking embarrassed.

“And …?”

“Superintendent’s List …”

“Which is what?”

“Um, I’m on the Dean’s List, my athletic average is above a 3.0, and I’m in the top third of my class year for the military stuff.”

“Why would you be embarrassed about that?” Naomi gasped. “That’s terrific!”

“Well, you’re my friends …”

“I say again: and?” Shawn asked with a laugh. “If you can’t brag to us, who can you brag to?”

TheOutsider3119's other work is also available in ePub format at Bookapy.com

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