The ceremony for the pinning of the airborne wings took place right after the last jump in Airborne School. It was a hot and humid southern Georgia day, and the jump master trainers were blaring Lionel Richie from there speakers in their trucks...he'd never forget "Easy like Sunday Morning" ever again.
Fort Benning's jump zones were massive flat areas of sand and grass, capable of allowing multiple flights of C-130 propellor transport jets to drop hundreds of paratroopers from the sky. Near the gathering area where the trucks were parked a few visitors were watching their sons or uncles jump from the planes.
The last jump was a non-equipment jump...no pack, no rifle carrier, no heavy waddling out the side of the plane. They called it a "hollywood jump"...just showing off with your primary chute and your reserve.
He remembered floating down...the last jump was from 2,000 feet so it took some time in the hot buoyant air and he could hear the jump masters on the ground using bullhorns to yell at the students one last time...."Feet and knees together morons"...helpful tips to avoid turned ankles or something worse.
He landed very casually, falling to his left and remembered staring back up at the sky, his back on the hot sand of this southern state. The sound of the aircraft was diminishing, Lionel Ritchie's intonations were getting louder...but he was super proud that he had completed this phase and knew that he would proudly wear the silver parachute badge forever. He rolled over and started packing up his chute.
It was too expensive to fly back from Georgia so he got a bus ticket to DC, figuring the relatively straight shot to I-95 north would give him some down time. He had just spent the last three weeks learning how to jump from a plane...he didn't really need to go sit in one right away.
The bus was departing early in the morning to get to DC before nightfall...so one more night in barracks with no air conditioning but also no need to polish his boots again. He was officially qualified, and he noticed the jealous looks at the students one to two weeks behind him.
He woke early, even before his alarm chirped as he had been waking up at the exact time for the last few weeks. He was glad to be changing into jeans and a tee shirt versus the boots and fatigues of the last few weeks. His hair was still cut short but he wouldn't need to shave it off again. He thumbed through the paperwork on his desk, retrieved the bus ticket and walked outside to the street. It was already warm, the streetlights yellow and the humidity already up. He only had to wait 10 minutes before he heard the grinding gears of a slow moving Greyhound...the bright lights cutting through the morning. It stopped with a release of the air brakes and he climbed on, his feet leaving the sand and grass of Georgia for a long time.
The freeway was relatively clear for the most part. They passed up through Georgia into the portion of South Carolina that gives way to the On the Border venue. He saw the giant sombrero from miles away and smiled as that place reminded him of trips to Florida. They crossed into North Carolina and the land began to slowly give way to rolling hills. All the trees and flowers were out...it was still a month away from Summer but it was still warm.
Outside of the Virginia snarl of traffic, the bus decided to head north on Route 29, bypassing the interstate traffic and cutting through the areas near Marshall and Warrenton, old Virginia towns with proper State houses and restaurants that served home-made pie. Traffic was starting to build just south of where the roads would open up into multiple lanes, making it easier for people traveling to Dulles airport, his destination to fly him back to California.
He watched the cars alongside the bus, the windows were not opened due to the air conditioning and the light was darker due to the window protective panels. The bus pulled alongside an Acura TSX, silver...there was a brunette in the car alone...she had her head back against the driver's seat, like she was resting. She had sunglasses on so he couldn't see much of her but she had an amazing curvature of her cheek...it sculpted itself out and then down to her jaw. She wasn't smiling but he could tell she was quite striking.
The bus pulled ahead and she retreated behind him. He tried to turn and glance backwards but she was lost in the reflections of windshields and mirrors.
The bus stopped about a mile from there, slowly making its way north. And here was the Acura girl again, and she had placed her sunglasses on her forehead...she was talking on the phone and talking with her hands, moving them up and down for emphasis. She smiled once and it was a flash of white teeth and a broad grin. She had dark eyes, they must've been brown and he saw her glance at the bus. She couldn't see him against the blackened windows but he saw her clearly...the face framed by those cheeks and the dark hair against the lighter interior of the car. It was like she was regarding...observing. She brought her hand up to the phone and pushed the call dead and set the phone beside her.
She looked back up at the bus, lowered her sunglasses and laid her head back against the seat rest.
He looked up at the small city name as the bus continued pushing up north. New Baltimore it said.
He wondered where she was going...he turned to face front again and started thinking about the flight West.
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