The Cadet (31 page)

The old man was too set in his ways, too unbending, and Rod still felt that nagging, distant mistrust of his father that he couldn’t put aside. It made him sick to his stomach knowing that Hank would never understand.

If he wanted his dreams to come true, he’d have to work even harder than his father had said, not only at graduating, but at getting Julie back.

***

Chapter Thirty-One

“Return to Me”

May, 1958

United States Air Force Academy

Lowry Field, CO

Absence from whom we love is worse than death.

—William Cowper, “Hope, Like the Short-lived Ray”

“Let me get this straight.” Sly put down his Coke. He looked incredulous. “First, you were at the top of our class. Then you almost flunked out because you started spending too much time with Julie. You dumped her and brought your grades back up; and now you want to date her again?” Shaking his head, he pushed back his chair. The sounds of cadets returning to the dorm before Ac Call filtered in from the hall.

“It’s not as bad as that,” Rod said. He flopped down on his bed. He put his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

“Not as bad as what? Am I recounting fact or fiction?”

“All I want to do is to see her again.”

“Just see her? Julie?” Sly laughed hysterically. “That’s like saying Hitler just wanted to see Europe when he blitzkrieged his way to France. Once you get close to her, your grades are going to nose dive and you’ll go down in flames. Don’t you remember? She’s the epitome of possessiveness!”

“I can handle it.” Rod sat up in bed. He changed subjects. “Who are you taking to the Ring Dance?”

“Carol, of course. Where have you been the last six months?”

Rod gave a sick grin. “Too wrapped up in myself to notice.”

Sly reached up and pulled down a book from the shelf. He tossed it at Rod, who caught it as it looped end over end. “Here. There’s a double-E test Tuesday. Use that pent-up energy to study. Just push Julie out of your mind.”

Rod slid the book to the desk. “Tuesday’s an infinite time away.” He padded to the door. “First things first. How about double-dating to the Ring Dance?”

Sly looked pained. “Rod. This is the highlight of our Second class year!”

“I thought you wanted to keep me on the straight and narrow, focused on academics.”

“I do, but not during the Ring Dance. We can’t all be as lucky as you. This is it for me, the big chance Carol will … you know, at least let me go to third base.”

Rod called over his shoulder. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t give you the opportunity.”

He made his way down the dorm hall to the telephone room. A single pay phone was set in the wall. George Sanders was on it, turned so that only his back showed. He spoke quietly and Rod stood far enough back so that he couldn’t hear the conversation.

After ten minutes, he stretched and started pacing. Sanders turned around, and spotting Rod, held up two fingers and mouthed, “Nearly finished.” Less than a minute later, Sanders handed over the phone. “Here you go, partner. Hope you have better luck with the fillies than me.”

“Thanks.” Moments later, Rod turned his own back to the door. He momentarily thought about calling home, talking to his father about what had just happened, but he wasn’t ready to face the old man quite yet. Instead he dialed Julie’s number.

“Colorado Women’s College.” The school operator sounded bored.

“Fletcher Hall, please; second floor”

“Just a moment.”

Six rings later someone answered. The girl sounded out of breath. “Fletcher.”

“Julie Phillips, please.”

“Hold on.” Rod heard the sounds of giggling and whispering in the distance. The phone was probably set next to a common area in the girl’s dorm.

Five minutes later, a voice came over the phone. “Hello?”

“Julie?”

“No, may I help you?”

“I’m holding for Julie Phillips.”

“Uh, I don’t think she’s in. Let me check.” Rod heard the girl call out, “Anybody know if Julie is around?” Someone answered, but Rod couldn’t hear the reply. The girl came back on. “No one’s seen her this weekend. Sorry.”

“Could you please tell her that Rod Simone called?”

“Rod?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, Rod, hi, it’s me, Wendy. Wendy Shelby”

It took Rod a moment to refocus, but then he remembered the large, thoughtful girl whom he’d befriended at their first dance. “Hi, Wendy. How are you doing?”

“Fine, Rod. I haven’t seen you lately.”

“I haven’t been to any dances. Julie and I, well, kind of started going out.”

“I know.” She sounded gentle. “Julie’s not here, Rod. I’ll tell her you called.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to leave a message?”

“No, thanks. Just let her know I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Anything else?”

Rod thought for a moment. “Could you tell her I’d like to take her to the Ring Dance next month? It’s on Saturday, May 29th.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Wendy. I really appreciate this.”

“Rod?”

“Yeah?”

It sounded as if Wendy adjusted the phone. “Rod, I know what this dance means to you. The girls here who have been invited know that it’s a really big deal. You know, the biggest social event at the Academy. Ever.”

“I guess,” Rod said.

“Anyway, if something happens and if Julie can’t make it for any reason, I’ll be here. I mean, I know you didn’t ask me or anything, but if you can’t find someone else, then I’d like to help you out—as a friend, that is—and I’d go with you.”

Rod paused. “Wendy. Thanks, really. Listen, I’ll keep in touch.”

“No problem.” Her voice brightened. “Rod, you take care. And thanks for calling.”

“You, too.” He clicked off.

One of the Third classmen brushed past him and picked up the phone Rod had just hung up. The underclassman said, “Thanks, Rod.”

Rod grunted. There was really no reason why he should expect Julie to hang around CWC on a Saturday night, especially at the end of the school year. Part of him had hoped that she would be pining away in her room, waiting for him to call, but knowing her, that was completely unrealistic.

He just hoped that he hadn’t let her slip away.

O O O

Three weeks later Rod waited patiently for Wendy at the reception area in Fletcher Hall. The phone messages he’d left for Julie were never returned. He’d showed up at CWC last weekend and hung around the dorm, but he’d never connected with her. It was as if she had just walked out of his life.

Cadets in their mess dress formal uniforms milled around the waiting area. Dressed in white jackets with cadet shoulder boards, cummerbunds, black pants, and spit-shined shoes, they looked like a rookery of penguins.

“Rod?”

He turned at the sound of his name. Wendy stood smiling, but instead of wearing a formal, she was dressed in a long kimono-style robe that masked her weight. Rod tried not to look surprised. “Wendy? Uh, that’s a really … different formal you’ve got on.”

She held her hands in front of her. “Rod, I spent all day trying to convince—”

Julie stepped around the corner. Dressed in a long, black formal dress, she brushed back a strand of her jet-black hair and stood silent.

Rod felt his knees grow weak. She looked stunning. And incredibly desirable. He forced himself to turn to Wendy.

Wendy spoke hurriedly. “It’s for the best. Really.” She stepped back. “Have fun, kids.” She hesitated and then disappeared behind the corner.

Rod felt awkward, not knowing what to say; he spread his hands. “Julie …”

He spoke as though they were alone in the reception area; his blood pounded in his ears.

She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. She spoke so softly he had to strain to hear her. “Rod. I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls.”

“I drove over to CWC last weekend and waited for you. I wasn’t sure if you were getting my messages.”

“I got them.” She ran a hand down his mess dress lapel, her eyes down at the floor. “I’m used to being the center of attention. Daddy’s little girl always got everything she wanted, or she threw a fit. I guess I don’t like competing.”

“Competing? With who?” Rod racked his brain and then suddenly drew back. “Compete with Wendy? She’s just a friend.”

“No.” She looked up. “No, not with Wendy. With you. Your goals.”

“Excuse me?” And Sly had told him he was hard to follow!

Julie stared at him. “I’m not used to being second to anything, or anyone. I realize that the most important thing in your life is to finish the Academy and be an Air Force pilot.” She lowered her voice. “It’s hard on the ego to be told that you’re not the most important thing in someone’s life.”

“Julie.” Rod took her hands in his. “Just because I want to fly doesn’t mean that I think any less of you. I could spend all of my time with you, but I’d never graduate, never fly fighters. Or I could do the hardest thing in my life and cut back seeing you. At least that way, I’d still get to fly, and hopefully have you as well.”

“So where does that leave us?” Her voice sounded small.

He drew in a breath. “To try and work things out. Get my life back into balance.” He shook his head. “How could I have been so dumb?”

A loud voice interrupted them. “Easy, when you’re a dumb squat! It’s so typical of your class.” Peals of laughter broke out in the reception area as four of Rod’s classmates stood in the corner, bending over giggling.

Rod opened his mouth to shoot off a retort, but he realized that he and Julie’s tête-à-tête had not been so private. And if anyone was to blame, it was he, for trotting out his feelings in public. He wondered how long he’d be paying for this.

He waved his classmates off. He turned back to Julie. “Should we go?”

“To the dance,” she leaned over and whispered in his ear, “or to our old parking spot? Do you even have time for that anymore, Cadet Simone?”

He whispered back, “Let’s get my ring first at the banquet. Then we’ll negotiate.”

***

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Volare (Nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu)”

May, 1958

United States Air Force Academy

Lowry Field, CO

All reform except a moral one will prove unavailing.

—Thomas Carlyle,
Critical and Miscellaneous Essays
, “Corn Law Rhymes”

Rod stood and held his wine glass high in the air. “To the President!”

Julie pushed back her chair, and delicately taking her own glass, she hoisted it to join the others in Mitchell Hall.

“To the President!” echoed the class of ’59.

Rod sipped his wine and turned to clink his glass with Julie. White tablecloths covered the tables in Mitchell Hall, and with the sparkling dishes, silver utensils, and crystal wine glasses, the cadet mess hall was transformed into an elegant dining room. Five couples sat at each table, and even the waiters were dressed in formal red jackets. Besides Rod and Julie, Sly and Carol Gutheinz, George Sanders, Manuel Rojo and their dates joined them. Captain Brad Whitney sat at the head of the table with his wife.

Julie said in Rod’s ear, “I didn’t know cadets were allowed to drink on campus.”

Rod pulled out her chair to help her sit. “This is the first time they’ve allowed us to do it.” Officially, he thought, remembering the night before recognition and that rotgut red wine Lieutenant Ranch had provided.

The waiters swept in, carrying individual plates instead of platters of food. They served the women first, placing the servings of bacon-wrapped filet mignon, lobster tail, asparagus, hollandaise, split baby tomatoes, and brown rice smoothly onto the table.

Julie glanced at Rod. “Do you always eat like this?”

“Every night.”

Her eyes widened.

Rod gave her a gentle elbow. “I wish.”

Sitting at the head of the table, Captain Whitney cleared his throat and spoke loudly to his wife, seated next to him on his right. Whitney smiled coyly. “I say, I remember that Mr. Simone’s date is from the South.”

“Actually, suh, northern Virginia,” Julie replied in her fake Southern accent. Rod stared at her, but she squeezed his hand and continued. “We were the eighth state to secede from the Union, but as tasty as this meal looks, I am really more at home eating dumplings, pork rinds, fried catfish, okra, and grits.”

Rod squeezed back.

“I understand you’re a senior at Colorado Women’s College,” Captain Whitney said. He reached for the wine and poured himself another glass.

“That’s right, suh.”

“What are you planning to do after you graduate?”

“Daddy is pressing me to attend Georgetown University.”

“I didn’t know they taught home economics there.” He smiled widely. “General McCluney must be ecstatic that his son is dating someone with such high ambition.”

Rod clamped his mouth shut and refrained from speaking.

“Heavens no, suh,” Julie looked shocked. “Daddy insists on law—patent law, actually. He says that’s where the real money is. Certainly not the military.” She cocked her head. “Unless you’re a pilot who’ll be a future general, like my Rod. And since you teach at the Air Academy, then I assume you are a pilot, aren’t you, suh?”

The cadets exchanged glances then looked down at their plates, well aware of the absence of pilot wings on Captain Whitney’s uniform.

Whitney’s face reddened; he clamped his mouth tight. Looking around the table, he scowled, “Everyone’s served. Enjoy.” He started cutting his meat.

Julie pushed her napkin to the floor. Rod leaned over to pick it up and she joined him below the level of the table. She whispered, “I hope he chokes!”

“He may if you send him any more zingers!”

“It’s good for him; he’s really jealous of your potential. And I wanted to stomp on his stereotype of Southern women.”

“You certainly did that. But I didn’t know you wanted to go to law school.”

“I don’t. Do you do everything your father wants you to do?” She grinned slyly, “Or believe everything I say?”

They straightened, and Rod said, “What do you want to do?”

Julie laughed and raised her wine glass. “What do you think? Live life to the fullest! What else is there?”

Twenty minutes later, with dishes taken and chocolate ice cream desserts cleared from the table, their class president tapped on his goblet and stood in front of the huge gathering. “Ladies and gentlemen. Charge your glasses!”

Waiters swept around the dining hall, refilling the wine. The five hundred people in Mitchell Hall grew quiet as the cadets stood, leaving their guests at their seats.

“This marks a special time in our career. A time when we are ready to step up to our final year. This also marks a time when we will obtain a mark of our tenure at the Academy, a symbol of the bond that we have with not only each other, but with the institution, and with the Air Force for which we will serve. Gentlemen, our class rings.”

He picked up the ring box from his table, opened it, and held up the gleaming white gold ring. Rod joined him, along with the rest of his classmates.

They dropped the rings into the wine glass. Fizz foamed around as they settled to the bottom. Holding up their glasses, the cadets joined in a toast. “To the Academy!”

Draining the wine, Rod turned the glass over and the ring tumbled out. He dried it with his napkin, then put it on his ring finger. It felt huge and made his hand feel unnaturally heavy.

For some reason he wished Hank was here tonight. Despite all their differences, this feeling of bonding and pride was something his father would understand. He felt a pang of regret that the last time he’d been with Hank was on such bad terms. He almost felt as though he should try to make amends, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Julie stood beside him. She took his hand, glanced at the ring, then back at him. “You cadets must have cornered the world market in white gold.”

Sly thrust a fist in the air. “No one can ever take this from me!”

Rod leaned over and gave Julie a quick kiss on the cheek. He held his ring up to the light. “Sly’s right. No matter what happens, this is ours forever.”

***