The old man laughed and ruffled Jack’s dark mop of hair.
“But ah definitely was floatin’, Uncle Jimmy!”
“Okay, Jacky boy, but you an’ ah’s got tomatoes ta pick for Missus Reid’s dinner table. So we best get workin’ at that pickin’ –“
Jack’s excellent grades at Lexington High earned him a scholarship to Cal Tech where he studied for a degree in Aviation and Avionics. Of course, his parents both missed his graduation, even if they could have afforded the flight from Virginia to California. His father Andy had been arrested on a drugs misdemeanour and was being held in the County Jail for the umpteenth time. His mother Annabel was so out of her face on crack that she would not have been able to state where either of the two men in her life were at that particular time. In 2058, Jack got a place on the flight programme at Quantico back in Virginia and graduated top of his class. His father Andy, who by that time was doing better in a private rehabilitation programme in Lexington funded from Jack’s salary, made it to the flight school graduation. Sadly, Annabel had died of a drugs overdose the previous year. Andy looked about twenty years older than the mid-fifties that he actually was, but Jack felt that he showed a new spirit and resolution of character that the young Jack had never seen before. It struck Jack that his father, who had been miserably broken by his own parents in his youth, demonstrated some of the genetic traits that Jack had to muster as he grew up through his torrid adolescence. Jack could see where his fighting spirit came from now and he was pleased to recognise that. After the graduation and parade of the newly qualified pilots Andy came up to his son, sporting the new suit, badly ill-fitting, that Jack had paid for. Andy’s chest was just bursting with pride and the tears were welling up on the rims of his bloodshot eyes. He spoke chokingly to his son in his slow Virginian drawl.
“Son, ah don’t have the words really. What ah would like to say to you? Ah jest don’t quite know. Ah’m jest real proud of ya. Never thought ah’d see ma son in one a them swanky U-S-A-F duds. Ah only wished that your mom could see ya today, son…”
Andy’s voice finally cracked and the tears streamed down his face. Jack’s tears were flowing freely too and the father and son hugged each other like they had never hugged before. They were never quite as close again as they were that day on the parade ground at Quantico, but Andy never slipped back to the sordid addictive life-style that he had led since he was that wild teenager with the big chip on his shoulder. After Quantico Jack went to ‘get jets’ flying on the F-69 ultra-stealth fighter programme based at Andrews Air Force base in Maryland and again his intelligence and air prowess saw him rise to ‘Top Gun’ in the F-69 fighter squadron. He had tours with the squadron in the Persian Gulf, Japan and the South China Seas before returning to Maryland in the spring of 2063. It was that year at a club in the New Holiday Inn in Silver Springs, a few miles from Andrews, that he met Maria Conchita Gonzales. Maria was a gorgeous fiery-tempered flame-haired Tex-Mex, who also worked as an auxiliary on the base at Andrews, although they had never met each other before. They immediately became lovers and within months Jack had asked her to marry him. One day in the locker room at Andrews he told his best friend and wing man, Vance Mulcahey, a Princeton graduate, that he was marrying Maria. Vance was taken aback and implored Jack to rethink.
“Jeez, man, Maria’s a great lay, Jack. But, for Christ sake, she’s only a base cleaner. With your film star looks you could have any one of the rich debs up in DC if you wanted!”
Jack had to admit to himself that his looks had attracted scores of beauties into bed over the years, but this time it felt different. Vance was his most trusted wing man and the closest of friends but Jack, with a slam of his locker door, snapped back angrily.
“Ah love Maria, Vance! Don’t matter what she is or where she comes from. If you ever saw the trailer park ah came from, you might a thought twice about havin’ me as a friend!”
“Sorry, Jack – I was totally out of order there. Congratulations, Big Bro’, hope I’m gonna be best man? You need a good wing man on your wedding day!”
After the wedding Jack and Maria bought a small neat bungalow in Silver Springs and both continued to work at their jobs on Andrews. They both talked about wanting to raise a big family and it was only a few months after their marriage when Maria fell pregnant. They were delighted but it turned out to be a nerve-wracking pregnancy. Maria had collapsed and she was diagnosed a month into her second trimester with a previously undetected small hole in her heart. The doctors at the base hospital determined that she would require an operation, but it was too risky to carry it out while Maria was carrying her unborn child. It was touch and go, but Maria gave birth to bouncing baby Isabella Annabel Maria Crossan on 26 May 2064 in the maternity suite at Andrews Air Force Medical Center. Nine months later she was back at the Center for her heart operation. Jack had left Isabella with her grandfather Andy, who had journeyed up from Lexington, and he spent three long nerve-jangling hours in the waiting room before the base chief surgeon came in head lowered and looking serious and drawn. Jack’s heart sank.
“Is she...?”
“Don’t worry, Mr Crossan, she’s fine, but, ah –“
“But – but what, doc?”
“Well, the keyhole surgery has revealed that Maria suffered additional damage to the small tear in her heart during her pregnancy and when giving birth. We have, however, been able to repair it quite successfully.”
“So she’s gonna be fine, Doctor?”
“Maria’s gonna be up and around in a week or so and she’ll go on to live a long happy life. But, one thing, Mr Crossan –“
“Call me Jack.”
“Jack – the thing is this. Maria’s heart is never gonna be 100 per cent again. The pregnancy has taken a lot out her and the heart has been severely weakened. I am going to advise her – and I’m telling you – it will be too risky for Maria to have another child.”
“But Doctor, she’s Catholic. She won’t take the pill –“
“Then, Jack, it’s up to you. From now on it’s either the male contraceptive or else –“
The surgeon indicated what he meant by motioning two fingers as snipping scissors towards Jack’s private parts. When Maria got home she looked so much healthier than she had been in a long time and Jack, Maria and baby Isabella knuckled down to enjoying family life. For a while things were going great. Jack went back to the F-69s and Maria gave up her job at Andrews to bring up Isabella. Maria would not hear of Jack going on the male pill and also that Jack was not going for any snip. Secretly, Jack was pleased about that part. It would have been a dent to his machismo and he did not fancy being a member of the “I Only Fire Blanks Club”. Maria stated adamantly, that as a Catholic, she would only be happy with the rhythm method of contraception.
“If it was good enough for my parents, then it is just as good for me also!”
“Jesus, Maria, your parents ended up with nine kids!”
“Yeah, well I’m gonna do it right. We’ll have plans and charts and we’ll stick to them, okay, big Jack?”
“Okay, Maria Conchita, you are the boss!”
In mid-September 2066 Jack arrived home one night laden down with a magnum of champagne, a huge box of chocolates and an even bigger bouquet of flowers. Maria squealed with delight and little Isabella, already in her baby-grow pyjamas, clapped her hands excitedly. Jack had already had a couple of Jack Daniels and he was feeling elated.
“Jack, darling, what’s the occasion?”
“Maria Conchita Crossan - you’re dearly beloved husband has only gone and gotten the Big One!”
Maria screamed so loud that Isabella started crying with fright.
“Eeeeh! You got Air Force One?”
“Ah sure did, honey bunch. John Crossan, pilot to the President of the U-Ni-Ted States of America, at your service, ma’am!”
After Isabella was put to bed, they celebrat
ed into the night, finishing the champagne and Jack helped himself to a few more bourbons. By the time they were in bed Jack was pretty tipsy and full-on horny. Jack snuggled up to Maria and kissed her neck.
“C’mon, baby, big Jack needs his momma –“
“Oh, no, Jack – we are way off the charts tonight. You know it’s too darn risky.”
“Big Jack promises his Maria that he’ll jump off the train before it hits the buffers. Ba-by, Jacky needs his Maria Conchita?”
“You better jump off that damn train okay or ah’m gonna kill you Jack!”
Three weeks later Maria, in tears, gave him the news that she was pregnant again. Jack was profusely apologetic. He knew he had crossed the line and had put Maria’s life in jeopardy.
“Maria, I’m so sorry. Ah was so drunk that night ah just couldn’t stop myself. Look, baby, the best thing to do is go for a termination.”
Maria swiftly crossed herself and stared at Jack in horror.
“Jack Crossan, you horny bastard, don’t you swear at me. Madre Dio! My parents and my priest would kill me if they even thought that I would contemplate an abortion. No, Jack, the baby is ours. I want my baby.”
Over the next few weeks Jack tried to talk to Maria into the abortion. She would not even hear of it and Jack worried himself sick over Maria’s health. Maria on the other hand bloomed magnificently as each trimester passed. The doctors were delighted at her progress but they advised that Maria should take it easy during the pregnancy, including no alcohol and little sex. As far as Maria was concerned that meant no sex, nothing, nada! Jack, now flying in Air Force One squadron, was at lunch one day at the base canteen with his old wing man, Vance Mulcahey, who was now ‘Top Gun’ on the F-69s.
“So how’s Maria’s pregnancy doing, Jack.”
“Oh, ah guess she’s doin’ fine, Vance.”
“You sound a bit disgruntled there, Big Bro’? You okay?”
“Man, ah’m just friggin’ gaggin’ for it Vance. Maria won’t let me near her till the baby’s born.”
Vance put his arm around his old friend’s shoulder.
“What you and I need to do is to get our old F-6-9 buddies together and have a real good ole blow-out up there in DC. What do ya say, Jack?”
“Good idea - so long as we’re only talkin’ drinks here, Vance?”
“It’s the only thang on ma mind, Jacky boy! Although we both know what ‘F’ and ‘69’ really stands for!”
The eleven Old Boys of the F-69 squadron were having a grand old night out up in downtown Washington. It could not have been any better for Jack. Maria had flown down to San Antonio, Texas with Isabella because her grandmother was very ill in hospital. So it had not been a problem for Jack when Vance and the other guys suggested staying over at the InterContinental in DC. The cash and the drinks were flowing. They had started with a bar meal of Buffalo wings and burgers washed down with jugs of Bud in Georgetown. Then they all jumped into three yellow electri-cabs and headed back to hit a couple of clubs on the edge of Foggy Bottom, where the eleven guys all started knocking back shots dropped in Jack Daniels and Coke. To finish the night they all staggered on to one of the Potomac’s water-taxis and sailed leisurely down to get into one of the exclusive clubs in upmarket Alexandria. As they floated past the infamous Watergate building, Jack’s eyes were swimming as he looked on to the swirling Potomac, inky black in the darkness and interspersed with dancing eels of light.
“Man, great idea, Vance. I so needed a blow-out like tonight.”
Vance was actually avoiding looking at the swirling river. The dancing eels of light were making him nauseous.
“Jeez, Jack, ah’m to-tally wrecked, Big Bro’. Ah think ah go back to Inn-Con-nen-nen-al-“
“Vance, you’re as drunk as a monkey, man. How d’ya end up like that?”
When the boat arrived at the pier at Alexandria, most of the guys realised that enough was enough and that they had drunk their fill. They argued for heading back to the InterContinental and finishing the evening with a night-cap. Jack was certainly not finished with his night out.
“Aw, come on guys. This is the first big night out ah’ve had since ma daughter was born. Who’s up for paintin’ Alexandria red?”
It certainly would not be Vance. He was already being held up between two of his buddies. The heads were all beginning to shake except one, Dan Kowalski.
“I’m still game if you are, Jack.”
“That’s ma boy, Dan the Man!”
The pair ended up drinking in The Fish Market, Alexandria’s most exclusive night club, which catered for guests who liked their R & B music, mainly from the late-20th century and expertly mixed by the world-famous techno-jock DJ Steeley from “Steel-town” Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Jack spotted her drinking alone at the other end of the bar. She looked mesmerisingly stunning, but Jack reminded himself that most women began to look stunning after the amount of alcohol that he had consumed. She spotted him and smiled, subconsciously signalling to him by gently rocking her glass on the bar to signify that her drink was requiring replenishment. Jack turned to Dan. He was already chatting up a very pretty black girl in a stunning and clinging red dress who worked up at the Pentagon. Jack indicated with a nod of his head towards the other girl at the end of the bar, who was in an equally slinky little black number.
“Dan, you okay here? Ah has a friend down there lookin’ mighty thirsty.“
“Ah’m doin’ great, Jacky boy. I’ll see ya at breakfast in the mornin’. Good huntin’!”
Jack never made it back to the InterContinental that evening. Instead he woke up in a strange bed in a small apartment across the river in Anacostia, his head bursting with the worst hangover ever. She walked into the bedroom wearing only a very short skimpy Japanese silk dressing gown and carrying a tray arranged with a light breakfast of grits, eggs over easy, biscuits, grape jelly, orange juice and coffee.
“Morning, Jack.”
Jack rubbed his forehead and glanced at her through his fingers. She was still beautiful, even in this semi-sober state, he thought. She had long dark auburn hair and legs up to her armpits. Just the way I like them, Jack thought.
“Hi, eh, have we been introduced, ma’am?”
“Many times, Jack. Why you were introducing yourself to me all night long.”
“Oh, God, that’s what I feared. Look – ah – look - ah don’t even know your name.”
“Ah’m Peggy Sue Milner from Birmingham, Alabama - at yore service, sir.”
“Look – ah – Peggy Sue. Ah don’t think you’re gonna be surprised to hear that ah am a married man.”
“Don’t worry, you told me that last night before we even made love. Ya were a proper gen-nel-man, so ya were.”
“So where do we go from here, Peggy Sue?”
“Let’s jest start with breakfast, Jack.”
That night had been the launch pad for a torrid affair between Jack and Peggy Sue. He saw Peggy Sue each time he was up at the Pentagon in Washington for briefings on the scheduled plans for Air Force One flights over the coming weeks and months. The sex was amazing, but every time Jack looked at Maria’s ever expanding abdomen he flagellated himself with the guilt he felt. One night he even pleaded with Maria to make love with him but she was adamant that they should not take any risks.
“Madre de dios, Jack. Can you not keep it tucked away for a few more weeks? It won’t be long my darling.”
Another night while in bed in Anacostia with Peggy Sue, he had a nightmare, which had caused him to wake up in a blinding fear-laden sweat. In the dream his drugged up mother Annabel came up to him and Peggy Sue while they stood outside a multiplex, which they had recently gone to in Washington Center. Annabel was like a spitting cobra swirling in front of them.
“John Crossan. Get back to your wife. Get back to your wife, you devil!”
But Peggy Sue
was like his drug. He was addicted to the adrenalin rushes every time he knew that he was going to see her, have those wild sexual encounters with her. He never thought of it as truly making love with Peggy Sue. In his mind he had reserved that for Maria. Then one afternoon in a restaurant in Anacostia Peggy Sue exploded the life that he thought he had under control like the flash of a supernova. She whispered across the table.
“I’m pregnant, Jack.”
“Oh, God, no, Peggy Sue - how could you? You said you were always careful on the pill?”
“Ah was, Jack. But you see - ah love you. Ah loved you when ah first saw you in Alexandria –“
“No, Peggy Sue, this can’t be. Ah love my wife, Maria.”
“Ah know you do, honey. But that’s why ah wanted to get pregnant. If ah can’t have you to myself then ah want to have something that is a piece of the two of us –“
Jack blurted out loudly in a mixture of anger and confusion, which turned the heads of some of the other diners seated in the eatery. He felt his life was being sucked into a black hole. Its gravity was so powerful that he was not going to escape its fatal attraction. A strange feeling crept over him. He felt the presence of the man in the room with the gun and this time his finger was on the trigger.
“Christ sake, Peggy Sue, Maria’s pregnant too!”
Peggy Sue showed genuine surprise. Jack had never let on.
“Oh!”
“Peggy Sue, you gotta get rid of it?”
“No way, Jack. Ah want this baby desperately an’ ah am Catholic.”
The black hole’s pull was getting stronger and stronger. The man’s finger on the trigger was just itching to put a bullet in Jack’s head.
“You’re Catholic - God - not you too, Peggy Sue?”
When Jack got home to Silver Springs that same night he had thought through what he needed to do. He loved Maria and Isabella so much that come what may, Jack had decided to come clean. He told Maria about his affair with Peggy Sue and that she had deliberately allowed herself to become pregnant. Maria went ballistic. The only Mexican words that he picked up from the tirade of abuse that she spat out at him were Madre de dios! Mother of God, he thought, what have I done? It was like he felt the bullet exploding in his brain. A couple of days later, despite Jack’s protestations, Maria, heavily pregnant, packed some things and took Isabella on the plane down to San Antonio to stay with her parents. Although he tried many times he knew after each call to Maria that she was finished with him and he knew that he only had his super-ego self to blame. Peggy Sue begged him to move up to Anacostia. She had determined the sex of the baby she was carrying and told Jack he was going to have a son. Peggy Sue told him that she would be expecting Jack to accept paternity over the child, which he knew he could not and did not want to argue against.
2084 The End of Days Page 7
