29 July 2019 – The United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, Colorado
Sabrina broke out in a sweat when she learned her new CO was one of her former friends from fourth-class year.
Events surrounding Sabrina’s conflict with former cadet Devin Fairhaven had polarized the entire Cadet Wing back in 2017. Combined with the punishments handed down by the Superintendent and Commandant, Sabrina suffered the loss of every friend she made during Basic Cadet Training in the aftermath. Most cadets who graduate from the academy count those they met during BCT among their closest friends for the rest of their lives.
Sabrina had none of that.
Sabrina was lucky that she made new friends since then. Despite being at the academy when Sabrina squared off against the establishment, those new friends no longer cared about those events or were her friends because of what she did.
Dominique Phillips paused a moment before ordering her three subordinates into the inner office. There Dominique outlined her goals for the semester. She then asked the other three for their thoughts on how they would each accomplish those goals in their divisions. The meeting didn’t last long, only thirty minutes, before Dominique dismissed them.
“Cadet Knox, a moment please? Cadet Sparger, please close the inner door on your way out.”
Sabrina froze before standing stiffly at attention, staring straight ahead.
“Relax, Cadet,” Dominique said. “Sabrina, please,” she asked when Sabrina retained her rigid posture. Only then did Sabrina relax, but only a little.
“Look, Sabrina, I know we aren’t friends any longer. I’m sorry about that, I truly am. I might not have agreed with your actions three years ago, but I respected your strength of conviction then, and respect it now. I need that from you now, and I know I’ll get it.”
“Ma’am …”
“Dominique, Sabrina. Dominique. Or Nique, if you’re comfortable with that.”
“Nique, while I don’t regret standing up for myself or someone else, I do regret the consequences.” Sabrina drew a deep breath and let it back out slowly. “I can’t promise the resentment won’t show through at some point, either.”
“You’ve earned the right to be resentful, Sabrina. You felt you needed to stand up to Fairhaven, to fight for that four-dig and all the other women at this academy. You stuck to your guns, stood your ground against the Commandant, and made the Superintendent back down when you got called on the carpet.”
“And immediately tossed my cookies afterward!”
“Details, Sabrina.” Dominique waved off the Stink-eye Sabrina gave her. “I won’t hold you up any longer. Dismissed.”
Sabrina still felt odd returning salutes.
For the past three years, she was the person initiating salutes, not the one returning them. The odd feeling struck her the first time she returned a salute during summer AM290 classes, and it hadn’t yet faded. Sabrina understood this would end soon, especially after graduation. She’d be back at the bottom of the totem pole then, at least for officers. Senior NCOs saluting her, especially the twenty-plus-years-of-service NCOs, would be very strange, indeed.
Watching the four-digs run the Terrazzo strips brought a wry smile to Sabrina’s lips also. She couldn’t believe she was ever that young, that naïve, that starry-eyed. Sabrina went easy on the four-digs when they greeted her on the T’zo, preferring to guide – rather than bully – them to where they needed to be. She refused to think of them as ‘doolies.’
Sabrina continued that philosophy at the glider training squadron. Her command style leaned more toward mentor than screaming harridan. There were times when she brought the thunder down from on high, but they were rare. Nique checked in with Sabrina once a week at the most, knowing Sabrina had things under control.
Sabrina’s eyes crossed as she stared at her Astro Engineering 445 homework one night in mid-September.
‘Who the hell decided adding letters – Greek letters at that – to math problems was a good idea?’ she asked herself.
Calculus still fried Sabrina’s brain from time to time. She pushed back from her desk and tried to forget about Spacecraft Attitude Dynamics and Control. Dina heard Sabrina’s chair roll and peeked over her shoulder.
“Having fun?” Dina asked.
“I’m having about as much fun as people who to tried to get a hit off of Mariano Rivera,” Sabrina replied as she rubbed her gritty eyes.
“Really? A baseball reference? What about hockey?”
“I had to use something you’d understand.”
Sabrina saw a small stuffed penguin land on the floor after it hit her in the head.
“Be glad that wasn’t my glass paperweight!”
“That might have felt better than having to stare at this stuff for another hour, Dina.”
“So? Move on to something else.”
“I finished my other homework already.”
“Oh, way to make me feel better, Miss Über Brain …” Another two hours remained in ACQ.
“Just keep that Chemistry crap away from me. I still have nightmares about that stuff from high school.”
Sabrina was just griping to gripe. With a 3.96 academic GPA, she demonstrated a solid grasp of the material in her classes. Combined with her 3.9 military and 4.0 physical fitness GPAs, she placed solidly in the top fifth of the Class of 2020. Barring any further catastrophes, Sabrina should receive her first choice when it came time for post-graduation assignments.
“Like I believe THAT,” Dina snorted, referring to Sabrina’s nightmares. “Academics come easy for you. It’s the interpersonal stuff that seems to elude your grasp,” she followed up with a grin.
“Like I’ve said in the past, it’s a gift I get from my father.”
“So none of your stubbornness comes from your mother?”
“I prefer to say that I’m very self-assured.”
Sabrina sat in the squadron lounge watching another episode of her father’s obstacle running competition show. Now that Jeff was up against the more seasoned contestants, he wasn’t blowing the others out of the water like earlier in the season. Still, he hardly looked concerned about making the next round. Jeff was near or at the top of the standings after every episode.
“I still can’t believe your dad’s in such good shape for his age, Sabrina,” Sean Doucette, a two-dig from Nebraska commented.
“He’ll tell you it’s ‘clean living,’ Sean, but don’t believe a word of it. He’s an Army vet and twenty-plus-year paramedic. T’ain’t nothin’ clean about those, and he knows it!”
“It must be your mom keeping him on the right path then, Sabrina.”
“Oh, Mom’s good at keeping him in line, that’s for sure, Dina! I know we’ve talked about how she does that, too!”
Sean raised an eyebrow.
“Since you’re new to King Ratz, Sean, I’ll fill you in. Mom’s studied karate since she was five, and is currently working on her eighth-level black belt. Dad’s studied it since they got together in 1992, though he took some classes in high school. Dad, my brothers, and I all had Mom as an instructor at one point, and we had a place at home where we could spar. Training never really ended until I came here.” Sabrina grinned. “Mom uses the sparring mat to ‘correct’ any bad attitudes that pop up, and Dad isn’t immune.”
“Holy crap,” Sean muttered. “So he’s in good shape because he’s studied karate for thirty years?”
“Well, no,” Sabrina admitted. “He’s in such good shape because he’s worked out like a madman for over forty years. Interval runs, weights, push-ups, sit-ups … You name it, he does it.”
“So he really could win this thing?” Sean asked, waving at the television.
“Don’t jinx it, Sean, but probably.”
Sabrina stepped onto the ice in the Cadet Arena. With the football team away at U of Utah this weekend, and squadron training already finished for the day, the afternoon was hers. Some of her teammates joined her informal workout over the next thirty minutes, and they started with some simple drills to knock the summer rust off.
The familiar motions soon brought back most of their hockey acumen, though parts were still pretty rough. Sabrina lost an edge during a skating drill and crashed feet-first into the boards.
“First day on skates, Sabrina?” Mara Wayne quipped through her laughter.
“You’re not indispensable, you know?”
“Do you need help getting up? You didn’t break a hip or anything?”
“Fie on you, disloyal one!” Sabrina growled as she rolled to her knees before standing back on her blades. “What I need is a proper skate sharpening. Too many hours on the ice over the summer.”
“Be glad you got the ice time this summer,” Mitzi Langenhagen griped. “My summer duty at Mountain Home didn’t include any trips to ice rinks.”
“And the brief time you were home, you wanted to spend time with your family,” Sabrina added.
“Yeah,” Mitzi admitted. “We’ll be apart for too long after I graduate, so …”
“Even as rusty as we are, we’re in a good spot already.” As the captain, Sabrina didn’t have as many concerns for the upcoming season as before the session.
“I agree, Sabrina,” a familiar voice called from the bench. Sabrina waved everyone over to the near bench.
“Ladies, this is Ken Sawchuk, our new head coach.” Sabrina, like Ken, saw the apprehensive looks on her teammates’ faces.
“Ladies, I want to reassure you that there will be as few changes as I can reasonably get away with.” Skepticism this time. “I know, words are cheap. Sabrina and I have had plenty of conversations since I got here this summer. I know if I come in here throwing my weight around, I’ll alienate most if not all of you. I want to guide, not command. That’s more my coaching style anyway.”
Players shifted their weight.
“Look, I’ve already taken up more of your practice time than I wanted to. I planned just to observe today, but I felt I had to chime in after Sabrina made that comment about you being in a good spot. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot worse at the beginning of a season.”
Sabrina and her teammates nodded, remembering some train wrecks of their own.
“My office is on Level 2, with the rest of the athletic staff. I’m usually here between 0800 and 1400 … damn it, 1600 in the off-season. I’m still adjusting to this ‘military time’ thing, ladies, so cut me some slack.”
Ken waved and walked away, down the player’s tunnel.
“Form your own opinions, everyone, but Coach seems pretty genuine,” Sabrina commented. “Okay, we’ve got another half-hour of ice time, so let’s get back to it.”
The late-September breeze off the mountains kept Sabrina cool while she watched the day’s flight operations from the academy field’s apron. Her classic, USAF-issue polarized sunglasses knocked the bright sunshine down to a manageable level.
“How we lookin’, Boss?”
“Hey, Donnie. Looking good today. Solid class?”
“Seems like it,” Donnie Estabrook confirmed. “Even the weakest AM250 student this year has a good grasp of the basics. The difference in skills in the four-dig class is minor. In any of the classes, actually. We shouldn’t have any issues.”
“I thought you said we shouldn’t have any issues, Donnie!” Sabrina barked a month later.
It was hard to yell while sprinting across an airfield. Donnie kept his comments to himself.
Glider Fourteen looked like a kid’s styrofoam plane after an aggressive launch and violent landing. The nose of the glider collapsed after taking the brunt of its face-first stop, the tail rose skyward at a near-sixty-degree angle and the wings had folded themselves to the ground, creating an unstable tripod. USAFA Fire worked to stabilize the tail boom of the aircraft before removing the cadets in the cockpit as other cadets gathered. The Security Forces cordon prevented other cadets from approaching the scene too closely.
Sabrina overheard a technical sergeant from the control tower say something about ‘wind shear’ to Major Cunningham. The major nodded before raising his phone to his ear and speaking to someone, probably the Commandant of Cadets. Large glider pieces lay scattered behind the firefighters as their tools cut the plane apart. Sabrina heard a shrill cry of pain as fire-rescue personnel worked to free the four-dig from the cockpit’s front seat. A civilian medical helicopter landed well away from the scene, so its rotor wash wouldn’t knock the glider over.
Two Colorado Springs Fire Department ambulances parked twenty feet from the glider’s nose, their patient compartment doors facing the accident scene. The paramedics consulted with the scene commander and helicopter flight crew before bringing their stretchers and equipment over. Sabrina could see little from where she stood. As the cadet squadron commander, Security Forces allowed her closer to the scene than others, but not much.
“Who is it, Sabrina?” a familiar voice asked.
“Emma Pozo is the instructor,” Sabrina answered her cadet commander. “Janet Soaring Eagle is her assigned four-dig in the front seat.”
“Any word on their condition, yet?” Nique asked. Sabrina shook her head.
“Janet’s cried out a couple of times while they try to extricate her, but no word on Emma yet. No one’s come over to update me but, then again, they’re a little busy.”
Major Cunningham waved Nique and Sabrina over as soon as the words were out of Sabrina’s mouth. He introduced the two young women to USAFA’s fire chief and CSFD’s shift commander.
“Now that Chief Boeheim’s people have the glider secure, we’ll finish extricating Cadet Soaring Eagle in a few minutes,” CSFD’s Captain Unterkopfler reported. “She’ll go to Memorial Hospital here in the Springs by ground. AirLife will fly Cadet Pozo to Denver General’s trauma center for surgery as soon as we get her out. She’s in and out of consciousness, and we’re concerned that she’s bleeding internally. Cadet Pozo could go to Memorial, but Denver General’s better for internal trauma and trauma surgery.”
Sabrina looked stricken. These were her people, her girls! She took Emma up for her first glider flight two years ago and felt even more responsible for her than the other cadets under her command.
“Cadet Knox, delegate,” the major cut in, reading Sabrina’s mind. “Get your people to shut everything down for the day. Phillips, you, too. Flight training is on hold for the immediate future, probably the rest of the week. Sabrina and I will drive up to be with Cadet Pozo in Denver after I finish coordinating with the Commandant’s office. Cadet Soaring Eagle’s AOC and sponsor family will head over to Memorial to make she’s properly taken care of. Make it happen, ladies. Dismissed.”
Sabrina remembered little of the next half-hour, and soon found herself in Major Cunningham’s passenger seat as they sped north on Interstate 25. She caught sight of a Pilot sign on the other side of the highway and shivered, remembering her brush with disaster.
Another brush with disaster, that is.
“It’s not your fault, Sabrina.”
“Sir?”
“The weather office didn’t see anything on their forecasts that would have suggested we call off flight training today. You know how low their threshold is.”
“It’s strange, sir. It’s like Emma is my kid. I feel like she’s an instructor because of me.”
“It’s possible, Sabrina. It’s also possible Emma would have become an instructor anyway.”
“Maybe,” Sabrina admitted as she looked out the window. “It hurts.”
“Guilt isn’t a rational emotion. Asking ‘What if?’ won’t help in the long run with this, Sabrina, but it’ll be hard to avoid. I can’t guarantee one hundred percent that you’ll be in the clear on this, but no one saw this coming. If anyone catches any heat over this, it’ll be the weather squadron.” Eric Cunningham looked at his chief glider pilot. “Have you talked to your dad about this stuff? I know he’s got plenty of guilt floating around in that head of his.”
“You’ve talked to him about this kinda thing, sir?”
“When he and your mom came out for Parent’s Weekend. I recognized him from that obstacle running show he’s on. We got to talking about his time in the Army and as a paramedic. He brought up your uncle and Lily Sepulveda during those discussions.”
“He’s been carrying Lily around for over twenty years. It’s better now than when I was a kid, but I know those memories still hurt.”
“It’s something you’ll have to come to grips with, Sabrina. You’ll probably never get over feeling responsible for this accident – I don’t think anyone who’s in charge does in cases like these – but you can’t let something you couldn’t control consume you.”
Sabrina gulped water as she watched the on-ice action from the bench. The glider accident two weeks ago still gnawed at her, but she hoped that today’s game would help clear her head.
The Vail team had stepped up its game since last season and pressed the cadets in all facets of the game. Mitzi Langenhagen ripped a shot past Vail’s goalie, breaking the one-one stalemate. Sabrina and her other teammates on the bench sprang to their feet, banging on the boards in celebration.
This year’s team had come together fast and needed only minor guidance from Coach Sawchuk. His hands-off style worked well with this group of players. The cadets won five-two, though the game was closer than the score suggested.
“You ladies played with some fire!” Vail’s captain said as she shook hands with Sabrina.
“Exams start next week, so this is stress relief for us. We have a lot of stress to relieve.”
“I guess so,” the other woman laughed.
Sabrina always liked playing Vail. They played with intensity but were able to relax once the game ended. Vail’s players were as friendly off the ice as they had been intense on it.
“We’ll see you again after the new year,” Sabrina mentioned. “Have a good holiday season.”
“Take care. Good luck with your exams.”
Planning for Sabrina and Tommy’s wedding continued in the background during the fall semester. Helen and Keiko worked hard to keep things simple and small at Sabrina’s request. Sabrina didn’t feel the need for the whole ‘princess-for-a-day’ experience, she just wanted family and friends to have fun.
Sabrina decided against a traditional gown and decided not to wear a uniform, either. She’d wear a simple, white linen dress, one which had a plain crew-neck top, short sleeves, a full back, and fell past her knees. She and Helen found it at a regular women’s store one weekend, not a bridal shop. It already hung in Helen’s closet, waiting for next May’s ceremony; there was little chance Tommy would stumble across it there.
The ceremony and reception would take place at a mountain-side event center not far from the academy’s South Gate. The ceremony would be held outside with a view of the Rockies in the background. The reception area inside was tastefully decorated in a subtle, country/mountain style that wouldn’t overpower anyone or anything. Other than the meal and cake, everything was locked down and ready to go six months in advance.
A bird flu-like illness emerged from Xi’An, a city in central China, in mid-November. This didn’t surprise anyone. With so many Chinese packed together in large cities, and with the trend toward urbanization increasing in that country, it is one area of the world where pathogens easily jump from animal species to humans. The frequency with which it seemed to do so was concerning.
Life at USAFA continued unaffected. The cadets had more to worry about in the near term, anyway.
Sabrina resisted the urge to throw something as she stepped out of her Philosophy 310 final. Her brain hurt after two hours of trying to untangle ethical and moral dilemmas presented in the exam. She found herself grimacing at the thought of some of her engineering courses being ‘easier.’
‘Six months,’ she reminded herself. ‘Six months, and I’ll be a commissioned Air Force officer and a married woman on my way to my first assignment.’
It sounded so simple when Sabrina thought of things in that manner. She knew it wouldn’t be so simple, but it helped her to think that way right now.
“My brain hurts,” a fellow firstie muttered as he stepped out of the exam room.
“That’s why they’ll pay us the big bucks, Joe.”
“Is it too early to ask for a raise?” João Ribeirio asked in return.
“Maybe a bit. We should ask Congress later, though.”
“Yeah,” he snorted. “Why don’t we ask them to listen to their constituents while we’re at it?”
“We’d have to be loud enough to be heard over the lobbyists first.”
“Hey, how are your two cadets doing?”
“Emma’s gonna be out for good,” Sabrina sighed. “The military considers removal of your spleen grounds for a medical discharge. They haven’t gotten around to the paperwork yet, but I think they’ll allow her to finish the school year remotely first. The Air Force is on the hook for her medical expenses.”
“That’ll be a good deal for her at least, letting her finish out the year. What about her student?”
“Janet’s already separated, mainly at her request, though the Air Force offered to let her finish her first year remotely, too. She needs quite a bit of rehab after those ortho injuries and will be too busy in the near term to take advantage of that. She’ll also have trouble walking for the rest of her life, but she’s determined to still have one.”
“And you, Sabrina?”
“I’m still working through it, Joe,” Sabrina admitted. “Emma and Janet both knew the risks when they decided to apply to the academy, when they got here, and when they strapped on the plane. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take care of them, though, nor does it mean I’ve accepted it’s not entirely my fault.”
“I agree. Accepting the risks doesn’t mean being written off if something happens, either in the military or in civilian life. Nobody should be considered disposable, Sabrina. Remembering that those under your command aren’t just numbers will be important once you make general.”
“I thought we were friends, Joe?” Sabrina replied in horror. “Why would you ever wish something like that on me?”
The mystery illness from China’s heartland crept slowly out of the Middle Kingdom, then exploded like a wildfire across dry grass. By the time USAFA cadets suffered through exams in mid-December, all of Asia reported large numbers of patients with a suffocating respiratory illness. By December 20th, all of Europe was affected. The death toll started to rise.
The North American countries tried to close their borders to help contain the spread, but the insidious virus had already come ashore. Cities began restricting gatherings, forcing restaurants to close, venues to cancel weddings and concerts, and commerce to falter. Mask mandates appeared everywhere.
Paper goods were among the first products to have shortages. The price of toilet paper and paper towels rose in proportion to the drop in availability, the Law of Supply and Demand on vivid display. Rubbing alcohol and hand sanitizer were next to disappear from the shelves. Distilleries tried to do their part by shifting their manufacturing to address this shortage, only to be shot down by the same government recommending sanitizer use. The distilleries weren’t making alcohol properly, according to the Food and Drug Administration.
Patients with various chronic conditions soon faced a shortage of their medications after unproven and unapproved uses of those meds were touted as ways to fight the virus. Conspiracy theorists claimed the virus was the product of a biological weapons program, others claimed it was a product of God’s wrath, while still others claimed the whole thing was a giant hoax.
Over the Christmas holiday break, schools from daycare centers to colleges and universities announced closures, restrictions, or a shift to remote learning via computer video. The Air Force Academy announced a mix of all three for the spring semester.
The Classes of 2020 and 2023, Sabrina’s class and the current fourth-class cadets, would return to Colorado Springs on the return date announced at the beginning of the school year. Returning cadets would be spread across Sijan and Vandenberg Halls to put everyone in a room by themselves. The second- and third-class cadets would remain home and have their belongings shipped to them. The majority of classes would be remote classes, even for the cadets on campus. Mitchell Hall would still host meals, but with seating restrictions. Intercollegiate, club, and intramural sports were canceled until further notice.
Cadets returning to USAFA would be restricted to their rooms for two weeks before being allowed to roam the campus, to keep the virus from gaining a foothold. Once clear the ‘voluntary’ quarantine, cadets would then be restricted to campus. Nobody in or out except in case of emergency.
Of course, the return was anything from smooth. Years of carefully crafted tradition were turned upside-down. Firsties found themselves back in cadre roles for the second year in a row – unheard of. More shockingly, administration and Cadet Wing leadership allowed Sabrina to venture near young, impressionable four-digs during those first tumultuous days of the Spring Semester.
‘They probably blew the uniform budget buying all of us firsties berets and sunglasses,’ Sabrina joked to herself crossing the T-zo, ‘not to mention what they’re spending on cleaning supplies, now. I feel like Cobra Commander with the mask on, too …’
Though touted as the most technologically advanced air force in the world, the USAF’s non-research facilities rarely were. USAFA’s classrooms and labs were well-connected, but the IT infrastructure outside the academic areas lagged far behind. The admin offices weren’t much better, and support facilities joked they were stringing extra twine and buying extra cups to handle increased communications needs.
Sabrina watched civilian contractors cut trenches for new fiber optic backbone lines across the campus during an early-January thaw. They managed to complete three or four runs in two weeks between snow storms. IT minions set up new server rooms in most buildings to distribute the internet demands evenly.
“This makes spending time with my fiancée difficult.”
“I’m not sure video calls count as ‘spending time’ with me, Tommy. Not quality time, at least. Still, I suppose we need to take what we can get.”
“Lookit you being the Voice of Reason... Bet that hurt!”
“You’re gonna be hurting the next time I see you, Thomas!”
Sabrina didn’t find Tommy’s rendition of John Mellencamp’s ‘Hurts So Good’ very funny. Nor did the pixellated, lagging video help any.
“There’s a saying, Tommy: ‘When you’re in a hole, stop digging!’ Might want to follow that advice …”
“This quarantine has killed your sense of humor, Miss Knox.”
“You being back in Lancaster isn’t helping any.”
“U-Denver’s gone strictly remote like ninety-nine percent of the schools out there. Plus, non-USAFA folks aren’t allowed on campus right now, Sabrina. So it doesn’t matter where I am when I can’t be with you.”
Sabrina’s headache returned.
“Let’s not talk about that anymore, okay?”
“Have they started in-person classes again yet?”
“We’ve only been back here two weeks, Tommy, so no.”
USAFA claimed the contractors would have new fiber lines run by now, but given Colorado’s average yearly snowfall, Sabrina knew it would be at least another week until they finished.
“They say they’ll have us back in the classrooms soon, now that the Center for Disease Control has ‘figured out what’s going on.’ We’ll see.”
The CDC and the Air Force loosened restrictions at the academy slightly by February. In-person classes resumed with wide spacing between cadets in the classrooms, and masks were still required.
Sabrina peeled her mask off once back in her room after her first day back in the classrooms. She washed her face with gentle soap, knowing hours spent with cloth against her face wouldn’t do her complexion any good. She looked around her still single-occupancy room while drying off.
The room reminded her of her room after Mandy left the academy. With only one cadet’s belongings in the room, it felt cold and sterile, even with the extra items firsties were allowed. Sabrina had already heard rumors that the administration would allow lots of leeway this year, even for four-digs.
Sabrina decided that one desk would be for schoolwork, and the other was for ‘personal’ use. Her things had already spilled over onto the unused desk on the other side of the room. A new iPad sat on the personal side, its Bluetooth keyboard waiting for input, though she’d likely only use the iPad for video calls to friends and family.
She made sure her flight suit was ready to go for tomorrow. The sight of her new shoulder boards made her snicker once again. They gave her Dominique Phillips’ old position this semester. Sabrina was now commander of all cadet flight training. Two years ago, she’d almost been bounced from the academy. Now they’d appointed her to a senior position in Cadet Wing.
Crazy.
Sabrina found herself in the back seat of a glider many times within the first month of training, due to personnel shortages. She didn’t mind the extra soaring time, though she’d hate trying to catch up on her paperwork. With ‘only’ the four-dig class to push through training across the three disciplines she oversaw, her administrative responsibilities were much lower than Nique’s had been.
Sabrina was thankful that the academy allowed cadets to walk the T-zo. Many cadets admitted to feeling the onset of cabin fever as winter’s end neared. The cadets self-enforced traffic patterns and spacing while out and about. ‘Social distancing’ had entered the nation’s vocabulary overnight.
“Are you KIDDING me?”
“Sabrina, the phones still work fine,” Helen replied in an even tone. “You don’t have to shout.”
“Yes, I DO! This is my WEDDING they’re messing with!”
“Sabrina, I can’t tell you I know how you feel. I clearly don’t. Wedding venues and other gathering spots across the country have been hit hard by the restrictions. I’m surprised the one for your wedding hadn’t canceled yet. It’s out of their hands and we should have seen this coming. All of our plans for your wedding are now out the window, and we need a new plan. I wouldn’t be surprised if the academy makes graduation virtual this year, too.”
Sabrina resisted the urge to throw something across her prison cell of a dorm room – namely her phone. What she couldn’t resist was the spreading tension headache blossoming at the back of her skull. Pinching the bridge of her nose provided no relief, either.
“This sucks.”
“You’ll get no argument from anyone on that. This illness has already started to divide the country. The CDC and WHO labeling this a pandemic has added fuel to the fire for some groups. ‘Masks are so 1918, Spanish Influenza technology,’ and the like. Half of the country already doesn’t believe anything public health officials say. The other half can’t believe how ‘stupid’ the first half is in ‘jeopardizing everyone’s safety.’ And ninety percent of folks say they’re already tired of the whole thing,” Helen said.
“This won’t be a quick event, Sabrina. We’re in this for the long haul.”
“What are we gonna do, Tommy?”
“Get married?”
“And where is that going to happen, Thomas?” Sabrina growled. “The farm canceled on us!”
“Our WEDDING is canceled, Sabrina, not our marriage. Unless there’s something you need to tell me?”
“Like I’m flying to Lancaster to kick your ass?”
“Sabrina, from what I can tell, the Colorado Springs City Clerk’s office is still open for limited in-person business. Care to guess which limited in-person business I’m referring to?”
“They’re going to have lines out the door every day, Tommy,” Sabrina griped.
“Not if you have an appointment,” he replied smugly. “The day after your graduation and commissioning, we have a ten-thirty a.m. appointment already reserved. They’ll provide the witnesses. Not the wedding most women dream of, I’m sure, but this isn’t our wedding, just the start of our marriage. We can start planning our wedding again once restrictions have eased.”
Sabrina’s heart melted and her anger evaporated.
“Oh, Tommy, I love you ...”
“I should hope so,” Tommy chuckled. “Kind of a prerequisite to a lasting marriage ...”
By mid-March, the academy had settled into its new routine and reality. Honestly, Sabrina found it boring and monotonous. And lonely without the other half of Cadet Wing present. She wasn’t advocating for the drama she experienced over her first two and a half years there, but the quiet routine seemed so unusual.
Sabrina’s homework lay completed on her desk as she reclined on the bed watching TV. ACQ was still in progress, technically, but even her advanced courses this year hadn’t proved much of a challenge. Carrying a now-3.97 academic GPA meant you understood the material.
Her father’s obstacle-running show played on the flat screen, but Sabrina wasn’t paying attention yet. Her father had made the national finals this year. Sabrina was so confident in his abilities that she couldn’t imagine someone else winning. She glanced up briefly as yet another competitor misstepped and fell into the water below. Sabrina sat up when her father appeared on the screen and prepared for his run. Night Two of Four meant that Jeff would be halfway to winning the national title at the end of the show.
Sabrina shook her head as the show played a recording of her father’s story once again. They played it almost every week; if viewers didn’t know it by now they weren’t regular viewers. The recording ended and her father reappeared on the screen. A not-so-subtle flex made the taut muscles of Jeff’s arms ripple under his scars and tattoos. His now-signature ‘WARRIOR’ tank did nothing to hide them.
The countdown started and Jeff sprang off the line at the sound of the horn. Smooth, effortless motions carried him across the first three obstacles. As he traversed the fourth obstacle using just his fingertips to grip a narrow ledge, Jeff suddenly cried out and cartwheeled into the water below.
