Cleared for takeoff

Austin and I grunted and groaned as we shoved yet another of the bulky grey containers in through the cargo door, then I clambered in after it to secure the cargo net. I jammed the locking pins into their slots, then looked out to see Austin sitting on the next crate, mopping his face with a filthy bandanna.

"Damn, it's hot out here. Howzabout we take a short break?"

I shrugged, then sat with my feet dangling out of the hatchway. "No problem with me. Want a Coke?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

I reached forward into the galley and flipped him a sweating red can. Austin snatched it out of the air and ripped open the top, downing half the contents in one gulp. He sighed happily. "Oh. Damn, that's good. . . ."

I smiled at this battered old bear of a man, then leaned back against the crate behind me to gaze at the sky. A tinge of regret touched me as I thought of a certain vast, glorious creation with the heart torn out of it, wandering blindly through the heavens, searching mindlessly for something it could never have again. . . .

"Y'know Sarge, maybe you can explain something to me."

"Yes?"

"We just got back from up north last week. Why in the hell are we goin' back? Can't they make up their God-damned minds?"

I chuckled. "Window of opportunity, Austin. Marines are pulling out. Until the new command staff gets its act together, we're going to be sitting on our hands. Might as well use the time to get that refit done that we've been putting off."

Austin shook his head in disgusted amazement. "Damned politics."

My chuckle became a laugh. "Don't knock politics, Austin; if it wasn't for politics, we wouldn't have a job!"

Several sweaty hours later, Mr. Baldwell showed up with those blasted bags of his again. "Going our way this time, Sarge?"

"Yes sir; after your last little side-trip, it seems someone thinks we need to keep an eye on you and the aircraft."

Baldwell made a face at me. "Yeah, yeah. . . .Hey, you hear the latest from Haiti?"

"Like what, sir?"

"Well, Ops tells me we were watchin' this warehouse just outside of Port au Prince. It's been gettin' a lot of late-night truck traffic the past couple weeks, if you know what I mean? Turns out that one of those goon squads down there was puttin' itself together a munitions dump for when we left. We were gonna hit the place, but somebody beat us to it--found the warehouse burnin', and all those goons laid out in a nice, neat little row with their throats cut from ear to ear."

I smiled. A handful of faces looked back at me from my memories, and I felt a mixture of sadness and pride. Good luck, guys. . . . "Sounds like some of the Haitians have finally had enough."

Baldwell shrugged. "Yeah, just might be. We'll see, though."

We talked a little more, then the senior pilot glanced at his watch and headed forward to the cockpit. A while later, the last of my maintenance crew boarded with their bags. As usual I was the last on board except for Austin, who was acting as ground-guide. I pulled the chocks and started to climb aboard, then paused a moment on the top step to take one last look at this place which I probably would never see again.

As I began to head inside, I spotted someone standing on one of the hills overlooking the strip. It was an ancient woman, dark, painfully thin, wearing a tattered gray dress. She was leaning upon one of those thick, ugly kind of canes that Medicaid inflicts upon its victims.

Our eyes met for a moment, and I think I saw her smile once, before she turned and walked away, vanishing into the scrub.

I gazed after her for several seconds, then went inside. Up forward, I could hear Mr. Baldwell and his copilot already well into their checklist and turning the engines, the craft coming to shuddering life around me. I threaded my way around boxes and bales to my seat and plopped into it with a grateful sigh. I then looked out the window to see the aircraft starting to move forward, heading for the runway. A few moments later Austin came pounding aboard, yanking the hatch shut and dogging it behind him.

I settled back . . . and for the first time, in a so-very long time, actually found myself looking forward to what life would bring me next.