Open Space
By Joshua "Dante" Epstein
CHAPTER III: TAKING FLIGHT
January 21st, 1941
"Lloyd, move your ass and get in here!"
Benny tossed the book back into his foot locker and hopped off his bunk, running for the sergeant's office.
"'Bout damned time. Sit your ass down, Lloyd."
Sergeant Jack Carsten was a big, brutish man, the stereotypical career enlisted man. His broad shoulder bore a set of stripes that were stitched on to perfection, and the man's uniform was as neat as any outside of the Pentagon. No mean feat in what remained of the Pacific Fleet, hundreds of miles from the mainland.
"You mind explaining this, kid?"
Carsten tossed a folder on the desk in front of him.
"That's your latest physical evaluation, Lloyd. Now, let me read you something." He pulled another folder from the desk drawer. "Lloyd, Benjamin K. 'As a result of this man's childhood exposure to polio, his reflexes are very stunted. Despite this, he demonstrates sufficient physical ability to qualify him for limited duty.'" He snapped the folder shut. "Now, read me what it says in the folder you've got there."
Benny opened up the folder and read the words inside.
"Though the cause remains totally inexplicable, the subject has demonstrated a remarkable increase in both hand-eye coordination and in his overall physical capability. It is recommended that duty restrictions be removed and Private Lloyd be allowed to enter flight training, as befits his current test scores."
The last few words that came out of his mouth were spoken so slowly and softly that they were almost inaudible, but they seemed to echo in Benny's ears.
"What's this mean, Sarge?"
"It means you've got twenty-four hours to get your shit wired and get the hell out of my barracks. You're going back the mainland for training. Next time I see you, you'd damn well better have some bars on your shoulders."
Benny didn't even try to hold back the grin that threatened to split his face as he ran back out into the barracks. He didn't know how this had happened, but he could feel whatever it was working inside him. Anything that had ever been wrong with him was gone. He felt more alive than ever, more aware of everything around him. The Hawaiian sun beating down on his face was like a light from heaven as he ran in circles, drawing stares from some, laughs from others. Everyone who had ever spent ten minutes talking to Benny Lloyd had known that he wanted to fly. Now he was about to, and he was the happiest man alive.
June 5th, 1942
Benny had taken to keeping a journal when he had started flight training. So much was happening, and it all seemed to be happening so fast now, that he had to write it down to keep it straight.
"Tomorrow's graduation. Damned if I know how things went so fast, but they still don't seem to happen fast enough for me. I've been champing at the bit to get in it. I hear tell of big fights out in the Pacific, and that our guys can finally fly in our own planes over in England. I haven't heard where I'm heading after tomorrow, but wherever it is, I'll be mighty glad to in there and mix it up. Maybe I'll even have time to get to San Francisco. Still got a lot of questions that need to be answered."
Benny pulled on his jacket and picked up his cap, fitting it snugly on his head before checking himself out in the mirror. He still couldn't get used to the sight of himself in a real uniform. After so long in the coveralls of a tarmac rat, he had come to almost worship the fliers and their dashingly perfect uniforms. Now he was almost one of them.
Graduation came and went and Benny found himself once again bound for "the scene of the crime". Pearl Harbor. He looked around, finding the place both familiar and different at the same time. New construction had been completed since the Japanese sneak attack, but there were still very real reminders of the destruction that had been wrought on what had once been an island paradise.
"Took you long enough."
Benny grinned and turned around.
".Sir."
The burly shape of Sergeant Carsten was there, attempting to hide a smile as he saluted his superior officer.
"Sergeant. Good to see you."
Benny returned the salute and gave the man a firm, hearty handshake.
"So they sent you back here, huh? Or could you just not stay away."
"I'm not here for too long. I'm bound for the Yorktown in not too long."
"That beast? She's ugly as all hell."
"She may be ugly as hell, Sarge, but she'll be right in the thick of it when we get our own back from the Japs."
"You've got a point, I guess. Still."
"Yeah, yeah. Come on Sarge, let me buy you a beer."
They both laughed, but as they walked away, Benny stopped in his tracks, suddenly keenly aware of. something. He looked around, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary until he saw someone watching him with an almost. predatory look on his face. Benny never took his eyes off the man, but still walked away.
What the hell was that? He thought to himself as he followed Carsten to the nearest bar.
By Joshua "Dante" Epstein
CHAPTER III: TAKING FLIGHT
January 21st, 1941
"Lloyd, move your ass and get in here!"
Benny tossed the book back into his foot locker and hopped off his bunk, running for the sergeant's office.
"'Bout damned time. Sit your ass down, Lloyd."
Sergeant Jack Carsten was a big, brutish man, the stereotypical career enlisted man. His broad shoulder bore a set of stripes that were stitched on to perfection, and the man's uniform was as neat as any outside of the Pentagon. No mean feat in what remained of the Pacific Fleet, hundreds of miles from the mainland.
"You mind explaining this, kid?"
Carsten tossed a folder on the desk in front of him.
"That's your latest physical evaluation, Lloyd. Now, let me read you something." He pulled another folder from the desk drawer. "Lloyd, Benjamin K. 'As a result of this man's childhood exposure to polio, his reflexes are very stunted. Despite this, he demonstrates sufficient physical ability to qualify him for limited duty.'" He snapped the folder shut. "Now, read me what it says in the folder you've got there."
Benny opened up the folder and read the words inside.
"Though the cause remains totally inexplicable, the subject has demonstrated a remarkable increase in both hand-eye coordination and in his overall physical capability. It is recommended that duty restrictions be removed and Private Lloyd be allowed to enter flight training, as befits his current test scores."
The last few words that came out of his mouth were spoken so slowly and softly that they were almost inaudible, but they seemed to echo in Benny's ears.
"What's this mean, Sarge?"
"It means you've got twenty-four hours to get your shit wired and get the hell out of my barracks. You're going back the mainland for training. Next time I see you, you'd damn well better have some bars on your shoulders."
Benny didn't even try to hold back the grin that threatened to split his face as he ran back out into the barracks. He didn't know how this had happened, but he could feel whatever it was working inside him. Anything that had ever been wrong with him was gone. He felt more alive than ever, more aware of everything around him. The Hawaiian sun beating down on his face was like a light from heaven as he ran in circles, drawing stares from some, laughs from others. Everyone who had ever spent ten minutes talking to Benny Lloyd had known that he wanted to fly. Now he was about to, and he was the happiest man alive.
June 5th, 1942
Benny had taken to keeping a journal when he had started flight training. So much was happening, and it all seemed to be happening so fast now, that he had to write it down to keep it straight.
"Tomorrow's graduation. Damned if I know how things went so fast, but they still don't seem to happen fast enough for me. I've been champing at the bit to get in it. I hear tell of big fights out in the Pacific, and that our guys can finally fly in our own planes over in England. I haven't heard where I'm heading after tomorrow, but wherever it is, I'll be mighty glad to in there and mix it up. Maybe I'll even have time to get to San Francisco. Still got a lot of questions that need to be answered."
Benny pulled on his jacket and picked up his cap, fitting it snugly on his head before checking himself out in the mirror. He still couldn't get used to the sight of himself in a real uniform. After so long in the coveralls of a tarmac rat, he had come to almost worship the fliers and their dashingly perfect uniforms. Now he was almost one of them.
Graduation came and went and Benny found himself once again bound for "the scene of the crime". Pearl Harbor. He looked around, finding the place both familiar and different at the same time. New construction had been completed since the Japanese sneak attack, but there were still very real reminders of the destruction that had been wrought on what had once been an island paradise.
"Took you long enough."
Benny grinned and turned around.
".Sir."
The burly shape of Sergeant Carsten was there, attempting to hide a smile as he saluted his superior officer.
"Sergeant. Good to see you."
Benny returned the salute and gave the man a firm, hearty handshake.
"So they sent you back here, huh? Or could you just not stay away."
"I'm not here for too long. I'm bound for the Yorktown in not too long."
"That beast? She's ugly as all hell."
"She may be ugly as hell, Sarge, but she'll be right in the thick of it when we get our own back from the Japs."
"You've got a point, I guess. Still."
"Yeah, yeah. Come on Sarge, let me buy you a beer."
They both laughed, but as they walked away, Benny stopped in his tracks, suddenly keenly aware of. something. He looked around, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary until he saw someone watching him with an almost. predatory look on his face. Benny never took his eyes off the man, but still walked away.
What the hell was that? He thought to himself as he followed Carsten to the nearest bar.