Freedom Flight Read online

  The author wishes to thank Susan Olson, Professional Counselor, M.Ed., LPC, for her expertise on military families and thoughtful review of manuscripts in the Support and Defend series, and Judith Klein for her proofreading and copyediting wizardry.

  Copyright © 2015 by Patrick Jones

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief q uotations in an acknowledged review.

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  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.5.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  The Cataloging-in-Publication Data for Freedom Flight is on file at the Library of Congress.

  ISBN 978-1-4677-8051-3 (lib. bdg.)

  ISBN 978-1-4677-8092-6 (pbk.)

  ISBN 978-1-4677-8819-9 (EB pdf)

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1 – SB – 7/15/15

  eISBN: 978-1-46778-819-9 (pdf)

  eISBN: 978-1-46779-022-2 (ePub)

  eISBN: 978-1-46779-021-5 (mobi)

  TO THE BRAVE MEN AND WOMEN IN THE US MILITARY AND THE FAMILIES THAT SUPPORT THEM

  —P.J.

  1

  SEPTEMBER 26 / SATURDAY AFTERNOON

  LACKLAND AIR FORCE BASE / SAN ANTONIO, TX

  “I’m calling it her freedom flight,” Paige Harkins whispered to Josie Wilkins, mouth barely moving as she uncharacteristically broke cadet rules. They stood together, along with their friend Erin and other members of the Sam Houston High ROTC unit, on the hot pavement at Lackland base in San Antonio, Texas.

  Despite the heat, it was as if the young men and women were frozen as they stood staring at their commander. Other than Paige’s whisper, the only sound was the flapping of American flags in a non-cooling breeze.

  Beads of sweat trickled from under the brim of Josie’s cap onto her neatly pressed blue uniform that was identical to that of the other Air Force Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps cadets. Paige thought Josie was sweating because she was undisciplined and carrying too much weight for a cadet. No one in Paige’s unit, school, or family would ever accuse Paige of that.

  Paige squinted, the blazing sun in her eyes. For the other cadets this was another AFJROTC outing, another chance to display the colors and show off the unit’s discipline. But for Paige, it was more, much more. It was the moment she’d been expecting for years. Her mom. Home. Not for twelve months before being deployed again, but for good. For great.

  On the plane that towered over them were members of the 455th Air Expeditionary Wing. The unit had been activated in 2002, just two years after Paige was born in a hospital in Germany. Since then, the unit had been assigned to Afghanistan. As hot as the pavement was in Texas, Paige guessed it was nothing like the heat of Bagram Airfield, where her mom had been stationed many times over the years.

  “March!” Commander Eckert yelled. As always, the cadets did exactly as ordered. The unit moved closer as the staircase from the large Air Force plane was deployed.

  “Attention!”

  Right hands moved quickly from the cadets’ sides to their foreheads as they saluted the plane. Paige closed her eyes, telling herself it was the exhaust from the plane that was making them water. Telling herself she wouldn’t cry. Cadets didn’t cry. Soldiers didn’t cry. They live. They die. They fight, so Paige fought back tears as she waited for her mom to emerge.

  One by one, members of the unit exited the plane until, at the top of the stairs, ramrod straight as if at attention, Paige’s mother stood. Paige expected to see a smile on her face and it was there, but it passed quickly. Her mom’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightened.

  As her mom walked slowly down the stairs, clutching the railing, Paige tried to concentrate on the scene in front of her and not let her mind drift to a dark place. Another plane landing, another return home. She hadn’t been there for it since she was only three at the time. Her mom wouldn’t speak of it. Paige could beg, bargain, or bray, but her mother was unbending in her silence about Paige’s dad’s return from Iraq. His flight had stopped first at the Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. There, Air Force Captain Roger Harkins came off the plane in a flag-draped casket.

  2

  SEPTEMBER 27 / SUNDAY AFTERNOON

  NINA’S CANTINA

  “It’s just a glass of wine,” Paige said to her mother, feeling oddly defensive.

  “You’re fifteen,” her mom barked. “You’re not old enough to drink.”

  Paige and her mom’s terse conversation could barely be heard over the laughter coming from the extended members of Paige’s family. From as far away as Houston, Paige’s aunts, uncles, nieces, and nephews had ventured to San Antonio to welcome Capt. Harkins home.

  “So raise your glasses,” Paige’s Uncle Jacob, her mom’s older brother, said. Paige and her older brother Perry had lived with Uncle Jacob and Aunt Tracy whenever their career military mom was deployed. Paige’s mom glared at Paige until she returned the wine glass to the table.

  “It’s great to have you home, Helen,” Aunt Tracy said. Everybody yelled in agreement, but none louder than Paige in the crowded party room at Nina’s Cantina.

  Once the eating and drinking were finished, everyone gathered for pictures. Paige photobombed almost every shot with her mom until it became a joke.

  “Paige, people will think you’re a conjoined twin or something attached to Mom’s shoulder,” Perry shouted.

  Paige’s mom kept smiling for photos, until someone hugged her too tightly. The open eyes and wide smile were quickly replaced by a mask of pain. “Perry, get me a chair,” her mom said.

  “Are you okay, Mom?” Paige asked.

  “I’m just tired,” her mom said, and then sighed. “It’s a long flight.”

  “But it’s your last one, right?” Paige asked. She knew the answer but wanted to hear the words from her mom’s mouth. “It was your freedom flight.”

  “Not really, that’s what they call the last flight when you retire,” her mom said. “I’ve got a few more years, but I hope all of them will be here at home with my family.”

  Perry picked up a chair, carrying it over his head like he was lifting weights. “Make room,” Perry said. At six-foot-two and 210 pounds, Perry could easily get everyone to clear a path for him.

  “Thanks, Pretty,” Paige’s mom said. Perry blushed at his childhood nickname. Paige’s mom eased into the faded green and white chair. “I just can’t stand like that for too long.”

  Paige helped her mom into the chair. “Thanks, Pug.” Paige winced at her childish nickname, her mispronouncing of her own name. It seemed cute at one time, but now, not at all.

  “Helen, what are your plans?” Aunt Tracy asked. Distracted by her phone, Paige didn’t catch other questions people asked. It was a text from David, her boyfriend. She had wanted to invite him but was told that her mother wanted the party limited to family only.

  Paige’s mom started to answer about her return to duty at Lackland but stopped in mid-sentence. In the middle of typing her reply to David, Paige felt eyes upon her. She looked up from her phone
, from David, to see her mother staring at her. A stare as cold as the day was hot.

  “Turn it off, Pug,” her mom snapped, like an order to one of the soldiers who had been under her command. In a flash, Paige complied. She knew that was what she did best.

  3

  SEPTEMBER 29 / TUESDAY MORNING

  JACOB AND TRACY ALEXANDER’S HOUSE

  “Where’s Mom?” Perry asked Paige as he finished his third bowl of cornflakes.

  Paige shrugged her shoulders. “Still on Afghan time, I guess.”

  “I think she’s still sleeping,” Aunt Tracy said as she walked into the room. Uncle Jacob had left for work early, so the coffee was ready to go. Paige liked her sugar with a little coffee.

  “That’s all she’s done since she got home.” Paige poured coffee into a Texas A&M mug. She tried to recall details about the last time her mom was home, but they all ran together in her head like some music video. Still, something seemed different this time.

  “It will take time to adjust,” Aunt Tracy said, passing Paige the sugar. “It always does. That’s why we wanted all of you to stay here for a week before moving back into your house. Gives your uncle a chance to go see if everything’s okay since the renters moved out, too.”

  “I think it gets harder, having her home,” Paige said as she tugged at her San Antonio Spurs T-shirt. “I thought it would get easier, but it’s the opposite. I was too young to know better the other times.”

  “Except this time is the last time,” Aunt Tracy said, kissing Paige on top of her head. “I’m going to miss the two of you. That’s for sure. Not that we see much of either of you anymore.”

  Paige laughed. With her sophomore year starting, it seemed she was never at home because of David, ROTC, running cross-country, and keeping up with her wide circle of friends from all over the world at all hours. Her neighborhood near the base in a military town like San Antonio was home to a few, but for most it was a two-year stop on the road to somewhere else.

  “I got some of my college buds coming this weekend to load up our stuff from here and help us move back home,” Perry said. Perry was a senior at Texas A&M at San Antonio and in the college ROTC program. He’d graduate with a degree in civil engineering and then start his commitment to the Air Force. Paige thought it odd that just as her mother was coming home, her brother was going away after this school year.

  “David said he could help us move, too,” Paige said as she stirred the sugar into her coffee. That was David Garcia: the sweetness in a dark, bitter life filled with loss, loneliness, and longing.

  “We’ll be lifting boxes, not writing poetry,” Perry said. Paige let it go. There was no use fighting with Perry about David or anything else, since Perry was never wrong. Just ask him.

  “I need to get ready for school,” Paige said, taking her coffee but no breakfast back toward her room on the second floor of the old house. The stairs creaked, so Paige walked softly as she climbed them, not wanting to wake her mother. She deserved her sleep, her time alone.

  They’d have plenty of time together, especially once Perry went off to officer school next summer.

  In her room, Paige mulled over what to wear. Like many military brat girls, she’d been quite the tomboy, but that had changed over the past year as her body changed. Paige couldn’t help but notice the attention she got now from boys—first Travis, then others, and now David.

  Just as Paige settled in front of the mirror to fix her hair, she heard her mother’s bedroom door open and close. Then steps—slow ones. The bathroom door opened but didn’t close. Then another sound, a thump like somebody dropping books on the floor at school.

  “Paige.” It was her mom’s voice, faint, yet somehow pleading. “Pug, are you there?”

  Paige raced from her chair, out the door, and toward the bathroom. Her mom lay on the floor, clutching her back. Her T-shirt was pushed up so Paige could see the scars from the back surgery she’d had more than two years ago when the medevac helicopter she was in got shot down. After the crash, they said her mom wouldn’t walk when she started rehab at a hospital in Germany. But she walked, first with a walker, then a cane, then on her own. While she could have left the service, she stayed on, though she traded her place piloting a Chinook chopper for sitting behind a desk. She had been proud to be redeployed. But now she was on the bathroom floor, writhing in pain.

  “In my room, top drawer of the dresser. Bring the bottle of small white pills,” she said. More like a sprinter than a distance runner, Paige raced toward her mom’s room, found the drawer and the bottle. When she returned, Aunt Tracy was on the floor next to her mom.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?” Paige asked and she fumbled to open the bottle. Her mother ripped it from her hands, pulled the lid off with her teeth, and dumped several pills into the palm of her left hand. Then she put the cap back on the bottle and dropped it on the bathroom floor where it tipped over and rolled toward Paige. White pills. Orange bottle. White label. Black letters. One word: OxyContin.

  4

  OCTOBER 2 / FRIDAY MORNING

  SAM HOUSTON HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT

  “Dismissed!” Commander Eckert yelled with the same intensity as when he yelled “Attention” at the start of drills. Every Friday before school, during zero hour, the cadets practiced a demonstration for the upcoming Veterans Day parade. They’d be the lead ROTC unit.

  “That man will be the death of me,” Josie sighed. Paige laughed.

  “That’s what commanders do: kill people,” added Erin Collins, a sophomore like Josie and Paige. Paige wondered how she could have so much bitterness in her voice this early.

  “Then why don’t you just quit?” Paige asked.

  “I can’t, you can’t, none of us can,” Erin said. Like Paige, Erin had lost a parent in Afghanistan. Her mom, an Air Force medic. Josie’s dad had suffered really serious injuries. But death and destruction brought the girls together, and ROTC bound them. Like David, they stayed strong while others broke.

  Paige didn’t argue in a fight she couldn’t win. “So about Homecoming?” Paige asked.

  The three girls talked over each other as they discussed the upcoming event, which all planned to attend for the first time. Alonzo, a junior also in ROTC, was taking Josie while Erin was going with Blake, an older guy she knew from her church youth group.

  “My mom’s taking me shopping for my dress,” Paige said.

  “I thought we were going to go together,” Josie asked. Paige looked at the pavement.

  “Come on, Josie, her mom just got back stateside,” Erin said. “I always thought I’d go shopping for dresses for Homecoming, prom, and wedding with my mom, but . . .”

  “Don’t give up, Erin,” Paige said. “Maybe your dad will remarry.”

  “If he does, so what?” Erin countered. “That will be his wife but not my mom. Paige, you don’t know how lucky you are that your mom made it through and she’s back home.”

  Paige nodded and smiled, even as dark thoughts overcame her. Which mom? The mom that left before this last deployment? The one that came home two weeks ago? The mom who was on Paige’s back from after school until early evening? Or the mom who lay on the floor of the bathroom writhing in agony until she downed her pills? Erin had one dad; Paige had four moms.

  “Ready?”

  Paige felt David’s hand on her shoulder. She turned, kissed him on the cheek, and wrapped herself around his long right arm. As tall as Paige’s brother but as skinny as a flagpole, David seemed stronger to Paige than anyone she knew. Both of his parents died in the war, serving in the Army, yet he’d never wavered in his commitment to serve his country.

  “So, my Aunt Lita thought maybe you and your mom could come over for dinner soon,” David said. “She’s been back two weeks and I haven’t met her. Are you embarrassed—”

  “She’s just busy, settling in her new job at Lackland,” Paige interrupted nervously.

  “That’s the thing I don’t get and I don’t think anyone can und
erstand until it happens to them,” David said. “One day, you’re putting your life on the line and then a couple weeks later you’re sitting behind a desk reading reports or whatever it is your mom does.”

  “I don’t know what she does,” Paige admitted. “She doesn’t talk about it. She never talked about what she did when deployed, but that’s because she didn’t want me to be scared.”

  “They can’t know what it’s like, most of them.” David pointed at a group hanging out near the back doors: stoners, wanna-be bangers, and other troublemakers to be avoided.

  “What do you mean, David?”

  “To go to bed every night wondering if in the middle of the night the call is going to come,” David said. “Or in the morning, two messengers in dress uniform outside your front door. You invite strangers in to give you the news you’re prepared for but still can’t handle.”

  Paige grabbed onto David’s arm. She felt it shaking and his tears falling on her shoulder.

  5

  OCTOBER 5 / MONDAY / EARLY EVENING

  HARKINS’ HOUSE

  “Why are these dishes not put away?” Paige’s mom snapped. Before Paige had time to answer, her mother continued her post-dinner rant. “Is this how Aunt Tracy let you live?”

  “I’ll do it after my homework,” Paige said softly, as if that would lower her mom’s voice.

  “You’ll do it now!” her mom barked in a tone fitting ROTC Commander Eckert.

  Paige stopped the urge to salute her mom—a sarcastic act of obedience and defiance—and did as she was told. She didn’t ask why Perry wasn’t asked to help or why he didn’t seem to suffer under the increasingly harsh lash of her mother’s post-work tongue.

  “I want this house spotless, or is that too much to ask?” Paige’s mom continued. They stood in the kitchen. In the living room, Perry watched football on TV and talked on the phone. “I had to live in the worst possible places with rockets being fired at me, so now that I’m in my home, it’s going to be perfect. Do you understand me, Pug?” Paige simply nodded. “I can’t believe Tracy let you live like this.”