West Virginia Young Writers 2012 Anthology - Marshall University

1922. She is in love, for the very first time. His name is Sebastian. He says he is in theAir Force. He says he has no family because they were killed in the Great War. He says he canhelp her fly, and maybe, someday, they will live on an island with room just for two, and nomatter where you stand, you would be able to see the sky. He says, in a voice that soothes andignites the soul like fire, that they will someday have a family, complete with two dark hairedchildren with blue eyes, and everyone will compliment them on a job well done.1924. She leans against the marble counter of the bar, drowning out the sounds of jazzwith yet another drink. It has been years since she has seen Sebastian, even though he promisedthat he would return. He said that he had to leave for training, after teaching her a different kindof flying than she had anticipated. Her friends had told her that it was normal in this age, andthat men were no good, and that they had seen him on the other side of town running rampantamongst the bars, but still, the memories control her mind. Alone now, she has become a pilot,but a pilot of a different sort. She turns away from the liquor that has become her best friend, thesoothing fire that scalds the body and calms the mind just the way Sebastian used to, and stridesto the dance floor, sequenced dress two-sizes-too-small glittering to the sound of the wailingsaxophone. She dances until the dollars are thrown, and soon a passenger has signed on toboard. She takes him on a one-way trip, and at the end of the night, he compliments her on a jobwell done.1941. Her son plays with toy tanks on a latch-hooked carpet depicting a valley in thesummer, blooming with flowers of pink and blue. She sits with her husband, listening to thedevastating news of the beginning of the second Great War. She takes note of Churchill’s pleasfor involvement from all, even training women to fly. Timidly, she asks for permission to jointhe cause. Her husband scoffs, explaining that flying is man’s work, and only they can perform ajob well done.19… She is an old woman now, more dead than alive, and she is wandering alonethroughout the barren waste that used to be her life. The bombs of the war killed her baby, andthe Gestapo took away her husband. The jazz club lies barren, and she realizes suddenly she hasnot even thought of Aden. She wonders if she had ever been an aunt, and if that were so, thendid they survive through the Great War’s blitzkrieg bombings? She wonders whatever becameof her dear mother and what all had occurred those pointless years when she had been chasingSebastian, and when she had been dreaming of flying. She peers blankly at the splotchy,shapeless finger painting she has just completed, and her psychiatrist compliments her on a jobwell done.24 24