I. Passing the Torch

I never wanted to become a legend, you know. People will tell you otherwise, but I have always been misunderstood in many ways. It's really ironic, too, because I had become a pilot to avoid such praise.

Anyway, I had to tell you that before I begin this story in earnest.

I guess I'll start off with my father. To put it simply, he molded me into everything I am today. Henry Lockridge had been a soldier for all of his life. It seems strange, but I never found out why this was so. Either I didn't want to know, or I told myself that I didn't need to know. Whatever the reason for his lifestyle, he was intent on giving me, Jake Lockridge, the same kind. For the first eight years of my life, Dad was always there. He had a strange way of raising me, though. He always told me that it took infinite courage to ask for guidance, but it took the worst kind of cowardice to ask for assistance. When I asked the difference, he explained that input and criticism from others allowed a man to adapt and grow, but receiving actual help in completing tasks and relying on others for support only weakened the spirit by lightening the load of challenges on yourself. He also said that in helping others with their difficulties, I would be strengthened while they would be eroded.

I took that lesson to heart, and it has served me well throughout my life.

Even before the age of seven, I always loved to take long jogs out in the surrounding suburban area by myself, but I was never tempted to run over to the lemonade stand or the ice cream cart with the other children. That was another lesson I had learned. The lesson was of discipline. I was told to control thirsts, to control hunger, and to control emotion. Once again, I absorbed that lesson and it would go on to serve me well.

The greatest lesson that I would learn from my father, however, were the concepts of duty and honor. Dad was a true patriot, and he made sure I became one too. He taught me the history of the world and that of the Osean Federation. I realized that this was my homeland, and a homeland whose ideals I believed in and trusted my life to. Therefore, I had a responsibility to defend her and the foundation of which she was based upon. He taught me what war was, and why it was a scourge upon mankind. However, I also accepted the fact that war will never be eradicated. War is engraved into mankind's soul, and is inevitable, no matter what precautions are taken. I accepted the fact that innocents, if such people exist, will be killed in war. Like war itself, civilian casualties are unavoidable. Tragedies and horrors will take place, and that is the very nature of war.

I will never forget that one sunny morning in August of the year 1995, when my father came to me with a backpack and grabbed my shoulder. He told me directly and without tact that he was going off to fight the Belkan forces which threatened our country and our freedom on this earth. I saluted my father and said, "Good luck, soldier. Go get em'." He returned the gesture, and as Dad walked out of the front door, he uttered those words which I shall never forget as long as I live.

"Thank you, Lord. I have finally done something right."

Some months later, a few days after the war had been declared 'won', there was a ring of the doorbell just after suppertime. My mother and I knew much more about each other than we ever had, due to Dad's leave of absence. It was to be another quiet night for her. After I helped clean the used dishes, I would go out to the field to play baseball with the older kids. After I heard that bell, I opened the front door to look upon an Osean Air Corps serviceman. The man looked at me, and to my surprise, saluted. I wasn't confused or worried. I knew what was coming next. I returned his salute.

"Mr. Lockridge. I'm glad that you're the one who's greeted me."

He seemed like a miniature compared to my father, and I'm not talking about height. In order to save the man some breaths, I asked the only question which was on my mind.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

The serviceman was taken aback at this question, and rightfully so. I doubt many children acted the way I did upon the hearing the news of their father's death. I then heard the voice of my mother, calling from the kitchen and asking who was at the front door. I motioned to the box which the serviceman had laid on the ground beside him, as a sign to speed this conversation up.

"Ah, yes, of course. Your father sent this message with these books."

He handed me a small piece of paper, folded lengthwise. I accepted it and quickly read the few words written upon it.

"This is what I was, son. If you've followed me this far, maybe you're willing to follow me a little farther."

By this time, my mother had arrived at the front door to investigate the situation. The investigation didn't last long. Within five seconds of seeing the Air Corps serviceman, she rushed up the nearby stairs into my bedroom and slammed the door. My expression remained unchanged even as the serviceman's face was turning red.

"Anything else?"

He looked at me with eyes of wonder, as if he just couldn't believe that I was this mature for my age. The serviceman then reached into his jacket pocket to pull out an envelope.

"A letter addressed to you. From one of your father's closest friends."

I accepted the letter, but I had decided to wait until the man was gone to read it.

"Is that all?"

The serviceman saluted me once again, and before leaving, said

"You're a better man than many I've met, Mr. Lockridge."

I felt something in my chest just then, but try as I might, to this day I have no idea what that feeling was.

After he left, I looked through the box of books. Military aircraft encyclopedias, flight training textbooks, and a copy of the Osean Air Corps manual were all there. It was then that I made that fateful decision to follow in Dad's path. I felt it would bring me closer to my late father as well as allow me to fulfill my duty to my country. I then opened the letter from Dad's friend. It had no return address, and was written on simple looseleaf paper.

Dear Mr. Jake Lockridge,

If you are reading this, then I assume that you are aware of your father's death in the line of duty. I tell you know that you must not despair because of your father's passing. He died fighting for what he believed in. He died doing his patriotic duty to his country. He wants you to remember him with pride rather than sadness, with a sense of accomplishment rather than failure. He has spoken of you many times, and believes that you are the fruit of all his labors. He knows that you will remain loyal to his teachings, to the teachings of our country, to the teachings of God, and to your own conscience. He now watches all of us from above the skies, and as long as you retain your sense of loyalty and pride, nothing will be able to defeat your spirit, and that is the part of humans which matters most.

-"The Skymaster"

I have to admit that I do not remember the exact thoughts which passed through my head the rest of that night, but I do remember my actions. I calmly walked up the stairs to my room and without knocking, entered to see my mother sitting on the edge of my bed, not crying, but having a look of remembrance on her face, along with a curious smile. She didn't look at me as I pinned the letter on my wall and scooped up my glove and bat. As I took a step down the stairs, I heard her call to me.

"Where are you going?"

She didn't sound sad or angry, but she wasn't overflowing with joy either.

"I've got a promise to keep. I told the guys that I'd be pitching tonight, and I can't ignore my responsibilities."

My mother told me later that she had quietly responded,

"Damn good answer."

-----

I reached the baseball field exactly on time, just as the guys were loosening up their arms.

We played a full seven inning game that night. After it was over, the boys told me that I had pitched all seven perfectly. They then explained my attitude during the game.

"You had ice water running through your veins, and you were throwing pure fire!"