Part III
Saturday, 0700
November 6, 2004
Key West, FL
Harm and I meet up and grab a quick bite to eat before heading over to Boca Chica Field. We are seated in a booth at a local diner, and the special today is apple fritters. "I'll have the special with a side of crispy bacon and orange juice." I tell the waitress.
"I'll have an egg white omelet with onions and peppers with toast, no butter, and coffee, please," follows Harm, and the waitress takes our menus back behind the counter.
"You know, the yolk is the best part of the egg, Harm. Now what do you suppose those poor yolks are going to do all by themselves?" I tease, and he chuckles, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head.
We make eye contact and smile.
I point at him and say, "The smell of chestnuts roasting on the streets of New York at Christmastime." It's a sort of game we play, a memory game.
"The smell of burning leaves," he counters.
"Mmm, you're right." I smile at the memory. "Did you ever do that when you were a kid? We used to. I remember raking leaves all day on Saturdays wishing I could be doing anything else like playing with my dolls, but then at the end of the day we would make a big pile and got to jump in them and roll around covering ourselves and getting all dirty with leaves stuck in our hair. It was the only time I was allowed to get my hair dirty. Then my Dad used to put the leaves in one of those special cans they used to have for burning leaves, remember the ones with the holes? Then he used to burn them. I loved that smell."
Harm joins me in a smile. He picks up his napkin and starts to unfold it slowly. "I remember the apple pies. You're going to laugh, but back on the farm they really used to bake apple pies and put them on the windowsill to cool. You could smell it everywhere you went. I loved my Grandmother's apple pies; it's one of my fondest memories."
"Sounds like a place I would have liked."
"You would have," he reflected. "The farm was a special place to me growing up since we spent so much time there after Dad went missing; there were so many places to hide for hours without anyone finding you. I especially liked the hiking and fishing. And occasionally Frank would take us camping. It was a whole other world."
"Yeah." We sit in silence and fondly recall the faint memories as if they were yesterday. It's funny how much Harm and I really have in common, finding peace in the ability to hide, even back then. And it's nice to see Harm open up a little - there's so much we haven't shared with each other. But I suspect that will come a little at a time; I think we're making progress.
We sit in comfortable silence, lost in thought, until our food arrives. At that, we both perk up and attack our meal with vigor.
Harm pipes up finally, "Hey, eat up, we don't want to be late."
"Me? I'm not the one who has to chew each bite one hundred times, Harm. At that rate I figure we'll get there by the time we reach fifty years old." I tease.
"Are you kidding? I'm already done." He sits back with a smug grin and I laugh.
"Ah, it's amazing what an air show will do for your incentive," I say as I finish my last bite. I grab the check and we head for the door.
Even though the aerial events start at noon, the air show starts at 9 am and people are arriving in droves to claim their spots for the event and the turnout is expected to be very high today.
The event itself is free to the public and Harm's passes allow us to go behind the scenes to meet the pilots and get a closer look at the F/A-18 hornets. Harm proceeds to give me a tour of the facilities as if he's been stationed here for years. He meets some people and introduces me – I'm surprised at how many people he knows. We all talk amicably before moving on to the various attractions, there's so much here to see, it's overwhelming.
Harm takes delight in pointing out things that honestly I would have no hopes of relating to, nonetheless including me in every conversation as if he felt he could transfer his vast knowledge to me; explaining things as if I'd understand as opposed to talking down to me. I can tell it means a lot for him to share this part of himself; he's like a kid, all bubbly and hyper-excited. A very active inner child, I remember Bud commenting once; how true that is, and what a pleasure it is to see this side of him. It's not often I get to see his true self, the happy, carefree soul. And that he wants to share it with me - it warms my heart so much I can't wipe the smile from my face.
Fortunately Harm is able to gain access to a choice viewing area away from the swelling crowds, and we settle in and wait for the show to start. I look over to Harm, and he grins, then looks up to the sky. "It's a perfect day for flying."
"It's too bad you weren't able to get a ride today."
Harm's grin widens into a full-blown smile, "I got one for tomorrow." At my surprised look he adds, "It's the Rabb charm."
"Oh, is that what that is? I must be immune," I reply with a mischievous smile.
He leans in close and whispers in my ear, "You just think you are." The start of the show interrupts our conversation and we leave the words lingering in the air.
After the invocation and Tomcat launch, the show starts with a special operations forces parachute jump, freefall. Next up: the national anthem and an F-14 sneak pass. The aerial demos are awesome. The US Air Force Heritage Flight Team performs and also the American Delta Firebirds Team. Harm explains to me that this is the first year they're using three planes in their performance, using a Russian Sukhoi's low speed maneuverability to complement the two Extra 300's high-speed performance and agility. There are so many planes, so many demos, but all extraordinary performances. And of course, the best is saved for last: the Blue Angels. During the performance Harm recites the unit's history. It's amazing he can talk and watch something so spectacular at the same time. I'm in awe of the precision maneuvers and aerial acrobatics.
"Look at that Mac. Now, that's precision." Harm points out the four jets flying in formation.
He leans in close without taking his eye off the planes. "That's a four plane diamond. You'll never guess how closely they're flying together." The look on his face is priceless.
"I don't know, but I'm glad I'm not up there right now, that's for sure."
Harm chuckles. "Eighteen inches, Mac. That's all that's separating the wingtip of one and the cockpit of another. That's impressive."
"Yeah, but one mistake and..."
"That's why they're Blue Angels, Mac. They don't make mistakes."
Sadly and before we know it, the day is over; and the crowd dissipates steadily. The performances today were unbelievable and intense - even I was riveted to my seat throughout. Although we sat for most of the day, we're both tired, probably in part because we didn't eat lunch. Neither of us wanted to miss anything, so we kept our seats throughout the show. We thank everyone, Harm confirms his flight time tomorrow, and we return to Avalon, the bed and breakfast.
We stop at our rooms to freshen up and decide on a late lunch/early dinner, taking a walk down Duval Street to see what our choices are. We take our time, casually browsing at the art galleries and watching the diverse crowd of people milling about. It takes a few minutes before I realize I'm grinning, and I have no idea why, except that it's a beautiful day, I can smell the sea, and I'm here with Harm.
I giggle lightly, prompting Harm to ask me, "What?"
"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just having fun."
"Me too," he replies, and takes the opportunity to slip his hand into mine. Smooth. I look up to him and smile, and squeeze his hand, and we keep walking. We find our way to Margaret Street, where we agree on a restaurant called Michael's since the menu offers something we can both enjoy. We settle in at the garden bar and I order an iced tea while Harm has a beer.
We peruse the menu. "Wow, fondue. Mmm, I can't remember the last time I had fondue. But I can't pass up a good steak. I'll have the filet Béarnaise."
Harm doesn't take long to decide. "I'm going to have the grouper Oscar, stuffed with crab."
"Oh, look, chocolate volcano, hmmm, hot Ghirardelli chocolate cake with a molten center that erupts when the cake is broken open. Sounds like my kind of dessert!"
"Looks like we came to the right place," he says with a smile.
We order dinner and while we're waiting for the food to cook, we make small talk.
"You've never cooked a turkey before?" he asks in disbelief.
"A real turkey? Once, a long time ago." I stifle a laugh.
"What?"
"You should have been there. I had this frozen bird I knew nothing about how to cook, despite all the helpful hints for weeks prior to the occasion, but I figured, how hard can it be? You stick the thing in the oven and it gets cooked."
"I gather that didn't go so well."
"Suffice it to say it would have helped if I had at least read the directions. The oven wasn't hot enough for one thing, and I left all the gizzards and gravy packet inside. I didn't even know they were in there!" I laugh at the memory. "It's a good thing I didn't try to stuff it, I think I would have died from some dreaded disease."
"I'm glad I wasn't there that day."
"Yeah, me too. Needless to say, we ate at the local diner."
"So you wouldn't want to try it again?"
"You know how it is cooking for one, Harm. Why would I want to go through that kind of trouble for just myself?"
"Oh, so it's just that you don't have the proper incentive." It was more like a statement.
"Of course. I'm an excellent cook."
He looks at me, disbelieving.
"What, you don't think so?" I ask. "When have I ever cooked a bad meal for you?"
"Never, it's just that, well, it's been a long time since I've had a home-cooked turkey dinner with all the trimmings." Harm is really laying it on thick.
"Are you trying to wrangle an invitation, Harm?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "No, I'm just saying..."
I roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt to lie. "Just admit it."
"Well, maybe," he replies sheepishly and smiles.
"Okay, you poor deprived baby. I'll cook you a turkey dinner. Just don't expect perfection. Oh, and you have to bring dessert."
"I can do that."
"Nothing store bought, either. If I have to cook, so do you."
"Deal."
"You do realize this is going to be a real turkey, not tofu?"
"I'm not a complete vegetarian, you know. If I was, I never would have survived on a ship all these years."
"Okay then, it's a date."
Harm busies himself by peeling the label from his beer and looks back up at me.
"What?" I smile.
"Well, Thanksgiving. It's three weeks from now."
"And...?"
"Do you think we should wait that long for our first date?"
I smile and touch his hand. "Is that what's bothering you? You're silly. Just ask, Harm. It's that simple."
"So how is your steak?" he asks with a smile. Deflection.
"Excellent," I reply as I take my last bite. I figure when the time is right, he'll ask.
After the meal we push ourselves away from the table, sated and happy. It's still relatively early; the sun is just starting to dip in the sky. It's an adjustment to see the sun set so early in the day after the recent time change.
We walk out of the restaurant and find ourselves close to the beach. We take off our shoes and begin the short walk toward the shoreline. Harm and I had been too involved in our conversation and removing our shoes to notice the beautiful sight before us.
I look up and suddenly it's all I can see. The sun. I've never seen anything so large, and it's threatening to take up the whole horizon.
"Harm...." is all I can say as I walk quickly toward the sight before me, afraid that if I don't move fast enough it will disappear as in a daydream. I start walking ahead; for some reason I feel as though I can just reach out and touch it.
Harm follows after me, and I think he's just as surprised as I am, and he's also at a loss for words.
Finally we make it to the water's edge, and I stop when I feel the waves lap gently against my bare feet. The sun is setting slowly into the horizon, and I watch with awe as it sinks slowly into the Gulf of Mexico.
I find the words to speak. "Look at that. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life?"
Harm comes to stand behind me and leans down to whisper to me, his breath tickling my ear. "Beautiful. Makes you want to reach out and touch it," he says. And tentatively he reaches up and touches my shoulders with the tips of his fingers, afraid that too much contact will break the spell. "And never let it go," he finishes as he caresses my shoulders with his warm, powerful hands.
We stand there for an eternity, content to watch the sun sink slowly into the horizon, neither of us prepared for what will happen when it ends. I don't know how long we stood there exactly, but neither of us moves. When the last tip of the sun disappears into the ocean, a voice comes up behind us, causing us both to gasp.
"Excuse me. I'm sorry to bother you, but I was walking along the beach taking pictures, and, well, I know you're going to think I'm some kind of wacko or something, but you looked so much in love, I kind of took your picture. I'm a sucker for sunsets. I hope you don't mind. Well. Here. I thought you might like to keep it," he said and thrust a Polaroid into my hand. "Have a good night." And he walked away.
"Who was that guy?" I ask when my heart starts beating again.
"I don't know. Scared me half to death though," Harm says, still unwilling to let go of me.
I hold the picture in my right hand, raising it up and over my shoulder, angling it so that I can get a better look at it but it's too dark. My hand is trembling, but I'm not sure if it's because of the sudden appearance of this man or the hands that are caressing my shoulders.
"I can't see a thing, can you?"
Harm's head dips low and he's not looking at the picture in my hand, but at me. He reaches out and runs his hand the length of my arm, takes the photo gently from my tenuous grasp and puts it in his pocket without looking.
"I can see you," he says, and brushes his long fingers over my arm and to my hand, coaxing it to rest behind his neck, then resumes his caresses. He brushes my hair aside and lets his lips drift softly over my shoulder, up my neck and over my ear.
"I knew you'd smell this good," he breathes into my ear.
"I knew you'd feel this good," I reply as I lean back, and my lips barely touch his.
"Can we consider this our first date?" he asks me in a whisper.
"Yes," I reply breathlessly.
"Good." He smiles and closes the gap between us - capturing me in a kiss so full of warmth and tenderness. And then he captures my heart. Maybe I'm not immune to the Rabb charm after all.