I'm not sure how this story is going to turn out... partially because the I'm not sure how to continue. Yes, Dusty is older than he looks, but there is explanation for it later. Also, planes, in my thoughts, mature far faster than people but also keep their child-like behavior for far longer. I don't know... just experimenting. If anyone wants me to continue, review because I'm thinking of discontinuing this story. I'll use some of the ideas from this in later works but I'm not sure about continuation. Well, thanks for your patience reading this. Now go ahead, read, and tell me what you think. :)
Riley paced back and forth waiting impatiently in front of the plane sized double doors of the hospital. It was the day: March 18th, the birthday of what would become a very well known plane indeed. Riley bit his lip, scuffing a tire nervously against the ground. "Come on, come on, I gotta know if she's okay!" Just then a doctor came out, but he looked rushed and did not stop to talk. He tried interrupting but he ignored the Corsair. The war plane was forced to wait.
A half hour past 7 am, the doors opened to let him inside. The worried, agitated plane burst through the doors as fast as his tires would take him. "Linayah!"
"Riley," a female crop duster giggled, "Shh!" She moved a wing away revealing a tiny orange plane. He looked so frail there, tucked under his wife's wing. He was a single prop agricultural plane, just like his mother. He smiled warmly. "Isn't he lovely?" Linayah said softly, her eyes full of proud love. "What should we name him?"
The Corsair cocked his nose, "What do you think?" He lowered his nose the newborn crop duster. Riley had foolishly forgotten to clean up in the rush to get out the door to the hospital. He had been out in the field they owned together and still the dust clung to his fuselage, but as he leaned down, his propeller knocked the side of the bed and a cloud of dust settled on the orange plane's nose. Riley's son sneezed.
Linayah laughed, "You need to clean up. You're getting dust all over him." She moved her wing protectively over him.
"That's it!" Riley exclaimed.
"What's it?"
"His name, it should be Dusty."
Linayah didn't look so sure, "I don't know Riley… are you sure?" The Corsair gave a confident nod. "Okay, Dusty it is."
The day past and Riley, who had by now completed his military training, had to leave. He was being positioned on an aircraft carrier called the USS Flysenhower with a squadron called the Jolly Wrenches. He was appointed as Skipper, although any plane that had been on the ship longer than him could have easily taken that spot. It was an honor to be chosen, but Riley didn't want to go.
Linayah nuzzled him before he took off, such lonesomeness in her eyes already that Riley couldn't look her in the eyes. He instead looked at Dusty. In only a day his son had grown and learned a few words. He knew enough to know that his father was leaving. Riley looked away and turned, "I have to go."
"I know, Skip," Linayah sighed, "I know. Just… fly safe."
Riley forced a smile, "I will, I promise. I'll be back before you know it." In fact, he would but neither would have much more time together. Bad times were ahead, for everyone in the family.