“I’m serious,” RJs voice became more distinct as they got closer. “He was up in a tree. Our Dad was yelling at him, ‘Boy, you gotta come down from there sometime.’ Of course Jeff was mouthing back, ‘I can outlast you. You’ll be gone by the time I come down.’ Dad didn’t take well to being talked back to. His face was beet red. ‘I’ve got three weeks of leave son so don’t think I can’t wait you out,’ he yelled. ‘Now come on down and take this like a man.’ Jeff wasn’t taking the hint that Dad meant business. ‘You’re gonna have to get me down yourself old man,’ Jeff shouted back. That right there pushed Dad over the edge. He told me to go grab his ladder then shouted at Jeff, ‘Okay, we can do this the hard way if you like. And after I’m done beating the shit out of you you’re going to clean up that mess the skunk made in the kitchen. When you’re done with that you’re giving the dog a bath.’ ”
“Did you tell him who caught the skunk in the first place?” Jeff said over the hood of the car. RJ, who hadn’t heard him and his Mom walk up, jumped at the sound of Jeff’s voice.
“Jeff,” he yelled turning around waving a hand at him. “How many times have I told you not to sneak—” he stopped dead, arm outstretched with half a cigarette burning in his fingers. “Mom!” he said dropping the butt quickly in a vain effort to hide it.
“Russell Grant Junior!” Linda frowned at Jeff’s brother. Jeff tried to hide his smile as her eyebrows drew down to a sharp point. Crossing her arms, as only a mother could, she admonished, “I thought you gave that filthy habit up!”
RJ’s face turned a bright crimson. Making his way around the car Jeff knew the look in his eyes. One of RJs telltale signs immediately gave away the lie he was concocting. “Well,” he began drawing the word out in a vain effort to buy some time.
“Save it,” his Mother bit jabbing two fingers sharply into RJs chest.
“Come on Mom,” A hint of a whine tinged RJs voice. “The world’s not the same place that Grandpa, or Great Grandpa for that matter, lived in. It’s been almost a hundred years since any kind of cancer was incurable. Not to mention all the other related ailments that have been all but eradicated. And the filters clean almost everything out!”
“Just because you can cure it doesn’t mean you should go around trying to catch it!” she berated. “Besides, it stinks and I don’t like it.”
Jeff, unable to hold in his amusement any longer, snorted at his Mother’s sharp tongue. The sound whipped her head around instantly to direct her glare at him as well. “You too Jeffery!” Linda snapped. “I caught a whiff of it from you too. I wanted to think it might have been from Curtis. But if RJs still sucking on those coffin nails I’m sure you’re just as guilty.”
Raising his hands as if to plead his case, though still wearing a mirthful grin, Jeff stammered, “I’m innocent Ma! It was a conspiracy. A collusion of evil minds plotting against me. They made me do it.” Jeff clasped his hands together adding a bit of theatrics to his mock pleas. “Oh how I cried and begged not to be involved,” he whined drawing the last word out melodramatically.
“Incorrigible.” Linda muttered with a huff. “The both of you.” Her glare took in RJ and Jeff himself in turns. Wasting no time, Jeff put on his best stricken face displaying a set of well perfected sad pleading eyes. “Just…just get in the car,” she said the anger draining from her face. The sad puppy dog stare was a weakness Jeff, and his brothers for that matter, knew all too well and was taken advantage of liberally in the absence of their Father.
Wrapping his arms around her, RJ planted a big kiss on Linda’s cheek. “I love you Mom,” he said with a smile.
“Sweetie, you smell like an ash tray.”
***
“Man does it feel good to be home,” Jeff said stretching as his stepped from the car. The shuttle trip from Annapolis had become a routine by now. But the welcome he’d received in town was far different. His Mother wasn’t lying when she told him Stacy Lopez got everyone worked up. It felt like half the town turned out at the nearby spaceport with signs and banners. Everyone wanted to say hi or congratulate him and know where he was off to next. Stacy herself was at the vanguard immediately flinging herself into his arms when he exited the terminal. Mister Lopez had a guarded look for Jeff over that. It was quickly smoothed over by his wife who quietly reminded the imposing man that Jeff was not only very respectable, but also didn’t return his daughters adoration. Just the same, Jeff was happy to be shouldering his duffle to walk up the short path to the large Victorian house nestled in central Washington’s countryside.
It was a beautiful home. Carpentry was a kind of hobby for his father who built the house by hand with help from his own dad. Intricate lacing accented the white eaves overhanging the large wrap around porch. The blue walls shone brilliantly as if the whole building had recently been given a fresh coat of paint. Russell Grant took pride in all his work. As Jeff meandered up the path his mind drifted to the many fond memories of the old place. Quiet evenings enjoying a refreshing iced tea or lemonade with the family. Getting into mischief with his brothers and other childhood friends in the nearby woods. Swimming away summer days in the lake or wasting warm summer nights gazing at the stars, dreaming of what lay out in the cosmos. The memories buffeted him in waves as he stopped at the top of the stairs tracing a finger through the initials he’d carved into one of the large posts supporting the awning when he was twelve.
“Dad whipped your ass good when you did that,” RJ said venturing up the stairs to stand beside him. “Never understood why he didn’t sand it out though.”
“To remind me,” Jeff said, the memories of that night flooding back. “He said that a punishment only lasts as long as your memory. This way I’ll never forget what I did, and I’ll learn from it.”
“Ha,” RJ blurted out. “The only thing you learned from that is how not to get caught.”
“It’s a good lesson to learn. Too bad you never did.”
“Jeff,” his mother’s parental tone returned for the first time since leaving Annapolis. “What would your father say if he heard that?”
Jeff laughed and in his best impersonation of Russell announced, “Boy, that’s a good lesson to learn. Now come over here so I can slap it out of you.”
Linda smiled and shook her head at him. Proceeding into the house she said over her shoulder, “Nope. You’re just never going to grow up.”
RJ jabbed him with an elbow mouthing, who got caught now, with a smile before following their mother. Jeff lingered a moment taking a deep breath of the spring air. Rubbing his arm, he trailed the two through the entry in time to hear his mother calling up the stairs telling his brother Alex they were home. Closing the door behind him Jeff swept his gaze across the living room the flood of memories returning. The room felt like a time capsule, everything looking much as he remembered it from childhood. The worn leather sofa still sat across from the fire place. The mantle still covered in photos and wooden knick-knacks his father carved for his mom.
Lazily he stepped into the room resting a hand on the back of the tall reading chair sitting askew near the large bay window. Bending he retrieved an aged book resting on the small end table under the lamp. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. He was happy to see the nearly ancient tome still had its place there. It had been a favorite of his growing up. The idea of going out into the world on a grand adventure had always appealed to him. Of course his dreams dealt with the heavens and not the Mississippi. But just the same the spirit was there. He attributed the drive to his father. Exploring space, serving the planet, seeing the wonders the universe held. Joining the service was the natural next step. What better way to see what was out there than from the deck of a ship? Idly flipping through the pages looking for favorite scenes, he became lost in those thoughts of his childhood. So lost in fact he didn’t immediately notice RJ trying to get his attention.
“Jeff,” RJ said finally breaking him out of his trance. Jeff looked up, and found his brother’s eyes rimmed with tears bare
ly held back. Behind him, standing at the threshold where the living and dining rooms met, Alex was hugging their mother. Linda was sobbing into his shoulder; Alex’s own cheeks wet from tears. Looking back at RJ, his older brother took a visibly cleansing breath. With a hitch in his voice he said, “Dad’s dead.”
CHAPTER 2:
SAYING GOODBYE
“Ah ha,” Jeff laughed shaking a finger at his family. “Good one guys.”
“Jeff—” RJ tried to say.
Jeff cut him off chuckling. “You had me there for a second. How long have you been planning this? Hell, you even got Mom to go along!”
“Jeff—” RJ again tried to say adding some force. Once again Jeff cut him off.
“That quiver in your lip. Classic!” Jeff laughed. Adding a hoot, he said, “You’ve never been able to sell it so well.” The look in RJs eyes bore into him. “I never thought you could…” he trailed off. “I mean.” His laugh became nervous. Pointing an accusing finger at his brother Jeff said, “You’re just getting back at me for all…those…years.” The mirth faded from his voice. “This is a prank isn't it?”
RJ shook his head slowly. “A Captain Moffett came out while we were gone. Alex didn’t trust him. You know how he is. Told him to get lost and he’d tell us himself.” Shakily RJ held out a letter. “He left this. It’s signed by Captain Styles.”
Jeff snatched the paper from RJ. Denial mixed with anger as he began reading the letter.
Dear Linda,
Please accept my most personal regards and deepest sympathy on the recent death of your husband, Commander Russell Montgomery Grant, a highly decorated veteran of the Drac conflict, a model Officer in UECN, and a close personal friend. This tragedy has stolen a loving husband and father from his family prematurely. And the timing of this terrible accident is doubly tragic coming on the eve of the annual commencement ceremonies of the Naval Academy. As I understand it, your son Jeffery is a member of this class...
Jeff shook his head unable to read any more. Reality settling onto his shoulder’s like a lead weight he croaked, “Oh God!” The book fell from his hand striking the floor with a thunderous echo followed by a wisp as the letter fluttered to the floor of the all but quiet house.
Visibly shaking he walked dazedly across the foyer and through the front door. The sound of his mother’s tortured sobs chasing him as his own emotions violently overwhelmed him. He didn’t hear his brothers concerned questions. Too wrapped up in his own anguish the world around him became a muted dream. Stumbling down the steps he took a few strides onto the lawn before falling to his knees wailing mournfully.
***
Jeff turned his red and bleary eyes to the sky. Twilight had approached and the first twinkling pinpoints of stars began glimmering in the heavens. Taking a shuddering breath, he wiped his cheeks with the palms of his hands. His knuckles hurt. Looking at his hands they carried the signs of the bruises to come. He vaguely remembered punching the ground when he stumbled into the yard. Climbing to his feet he shuffled across the lawn ascending the front stairs as if they were a mountain. Stepping into the house he leaned back against the door as it softly clicked shut behind him. The foyer was dark. Vague shapes were perceptible at the top of the stairs and the living room was washed in a faint glow from a dim light emanating around the corner. Lazily he followed the light finding his family huddled around the dining room table talking softly. A creak in the floorboards announced his presence their heads turning in near unison.
“Jeff,” his mother gasped cupping a hand over her mouth. “Your hands. Your uniform.”
The dull green color of grass stains marred the knees of his once pristinely white slacks. Turning his hands, which also carried the green telltale stains of his interlude with the front lawn, a wisp of a smile graced his lips. “They’re really not so bad. I’ve gotten in worse scrapes with RJ. As to these,” he said plucking at his stained knees. “There’s no way that’s coming out. The Commandant’s gonna be pissed!”
The corners of Linda’s mouth quirked up and a cute laugh grew in her throat. The sound was infectious. Soon RJ and Alex joined in and as fast as that the whole Grant family was wracked with laughter. RJ jumped to his feet begging Jeff to sit while he grabbed him a beer. He quickly returned sliding a bottle across the table. The cool liquid felt good on his throat and RJs impressions of their father did the same for his soul.
“Nobody did it!” he bellowed throwing his arms out to his side. “It must have been the dog!” Pointing a shaking finger at Jeff and Alex in turn RJ tried to emulate Russell’s glare. “You boys must think I’m some kind of idiot!”
Deep into the night the stories and the drinks flowed and in the small hours of the morning fatigue finally won the battle over their camaraderie. Through laughter and slurred speech, they said their goodnights making their way to waiting beds. Precariously Jeff stumbled up the stairs finding his way to the room he grew up in. All but collapsing into the bed sleep thankfully came quickly as he drifted off to pleasant dreams of his father.
The following week plodded along sullenly. Thankfully the preparations for the funeral service were handled by the military. The ceremony itself was small with little pomp and circumstance as Russell would have liked it. The man usually found all the ceremony and speech making to be a bore preferring to limit his exposure to the pageantry to truly momentous occasions. It came as no surprise that there wouldn’t be a body to bury. Russell was a traditionalist and made it well known he wanted to be buried at sea so to speak. As it turned out the circumstances of his death negated that leaving no body to be laid to rest. Jeff spared his mother the decidedly grizzly details. She had enough to deal with as it was. The navy did however deliver his personal effects. It was difficult sifting through the box of photos, books and assorted mementoes he’d collected during his service. Even harder choosing something to be interred settling on a photo and one of his many commendations. However brave a face Jeff tried to hold through the whole ordeal, the presentation of the Commonwealth flag to his mother wrenched at his soul.
As the service painfully came to a close a stoic looking man close to Jeff’s height approached the tightly huddled family. His face was narrow adorned with bold muttonchops and sat high above the tall collar of his deep grey jacket. His brown eyes clear and keen; exuding years of experience. Instinctively Jeff exchanged a salute with the man as he approached.
“Gunther,” Linda said through tears. Slowly rising to her feet she hugged the man.
“It’s good to see you Linda. I just wish it was under happier circumstances,” he said. Pulling back from the embrace he turned towards a small pale woman with a fiery mane of red hair Jeff hadn’t noticed following him. “If you could wait by the car please Commander.”
“Yes Sir,” she said stiffly. Stealing a glance at Jeff she strode away at a dignified pace.
Jeff took the cue of being dismissed. Reaching over he tapped RJ on the shoulder motioning with his head. “If you’ll excuse us please. Mom. Captain,” Jeff said exchanging another salute with the man who could be none other than Gunther Styles. Walking a respectable distance to offer his mother and the captain some privacy Jeff pulled out a pack of cigarettes offering one to RJ.
“Thanks,” he said allowing Jeff to light the stick.
“It doesn’t seem real.” Jeff exhaled a cloud of smoke. “It feels like yesterday he was yelling at you for borrowing the car.”
“Yeah. Or when he caught you behind the shed with the Jacobi twins and a bottle of vodka.” RJ laughed at the memory adding, “You didn’t even know he was home.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be.” Jeff smiled sharing in the memory. “He said he’d be home in two weeks. I had that night planned down to the last detail. I’d wait for Mom to go to bed, swipe the bottle from the liquor cabinet, sneak out, go pick up Sasha and Jamie and the rest would just write itself. How was I supposed to know he was going to surprise us?” Laughing Jeff continued, “The look on his face was worth it. He cam
e around the corner saying, ‘what in the hell is going on back here?’ ” Jeff paused a moment taking another drag. “I think he was more upset about me stealing his vodka than the girls.”
“Does it matter?” RJ said, “The man was pissed. You were going to get it either way.”
“Mister Grant,” the voice was powerful. Spinning around Jeff snapped to attention saluting. “Put your arm down son this is a social call,” Styles said extending a hand in pleasantry. “I just wanted to personally say how sorry I am that this happened. Russ was a good friend.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled out an envelope passing it to Jeff. “Your father made me promise to deliver this to you personally.”
Taking the envelope Jeff turned it in his hands looking for the right words. “What is it?” he finally said.
“I don’t make it a habit of reading personal correspondence son. But I imagine it’s important. Important enough for Russ to entrust it to me.” Styles must have sensed his discomfort. Squeezing his shoulder he said, “I’m awarding you an additional two weeks of leave. It’s irregular, and under the current circumstances I shouldn’t be. But Russ meant a lot to me and I can only repay his loyalty by pulling strings for his son. Be strong Mister Grant. And take advantage of this time.”
Jeff could only think to mutter a, “Thank you,” and stood numbly watching the captain return to the waiting limo. The small pale commander, who was standing rigidly by the car, opened the door for him. Pausing to cast one final look at Jeff she ducked in following Styles. A nudge to the shoulder brought him out of the gaze. He’d forgotten RJ was there who nodded his head indicating the envelope still in Jeff’s hand. He tore it open pulling out a letter.
Dear Jeff,
It pains me to share this news in this format. If you're reading this, then by now you know I've died. I never wanted you to join the service. You know this. Yes, it's a hard life, and I know you’re up to the challenge. But it is a life wrought with peril from the benign to the deliberate and this is why I've done my best to steer you away from following in my footsteps. You're a skilled pilot, maybe even better than me. But it's the risk involved that gives me reservations.
In the Blink of an Eye Page 2
