“Not at all,” Charlie said, choking down her own snickering. “Randolph it is. Are you married? Single?”
“What does that have to do with training on the robot?”
“We’re a small and pretty close-knit group here, Randolph,” Charlie said. “We like to know a lot about the folks that are assigned to work with us.”
“Do I get to know everything about you?”
“Of course. Ask away.”
Savoy looked skeptically at those around him, then said with a sigh of exasperation, “About those training manuals and videos, Miss Turlock?”
Charlie looked at Jon and Jason, shrugged, and put an arm around Savoy, turning him toward the folded-up CID unit. “We don’t use no stinking books or videos like they did in the olden days, Randolph — we believe in on-the-job training around here. CID Four, pilot up,” she said. The robot immediately assumed the boarding stance. “If you’re your unit’s gadget guy, you should learn how the CID operates in… about a day.”
“A day ?”
“Only if you’re paying attention,” Charlie added with a smile. “Otherwise, it might take as long as two days. Now, if we were going into combat, everything might take an extra day or two to learn, but since you won’t be using weapon packs, you should be fully checked out by this time tomorrow.” She motioned to the open hatch on the CID unit’s back. “Hop on up there, Randolph, and let’s get started.”
Five
There comes a moment when you have to stop revving up the car and shove it into gear.
Ron Spivey strode into the Civil Air Patrol hangar wearing a football jersey, shorts, running shoes, and carrying a backpack. He found Bradley McLanahan and Ralph Markham at a table. Ralph was in a CAP camouflage field uniform, but for the first time he saw Brad wearing a green Air Force — style Nomex flight suit. They had a stack of manuals on the table, along with sign-off forms. “Where the hell were you, McLanahan?” Ron shouted as he came over to the table. “You’re the only guy on the defensive squad that didn’t show for the workout.”
“I told you, Ron — I couldn’t make it because I’m getting my first ride as mission scanner,” Brad replied. “With the current air emergency, we got an ‘A’ mission number, so I get to go for real.” An “A” mission was one assigned and paid for by the Air Force for a specific task.
“Oh yeah — it’s your birthday today. Happy birthday,” Ron said tonelessly. “You get to start training to fly as a scanner for real. So why aren’t you flying?”
“I’m waiting to be briefed. I thought I’d help Ralph with his reading assignments for summer school.”
“Why doesn’t Marky do his own reading?”
“You know he has a little trouble reading,” Brad said. “But if you read it to him first and then help him through it, he picks it up pretty quick.”
“We’d all like someone to spoon-feed us,” Ron said. “But you’re still a cocaptain on the football team, so you’ve got to set a fucking example. You gotta do five miles every day plus wind sprints, and an hour in the weight room until football training-season starts. No excuses. And we train as a damned team. If you don’t show up, other guys won’t show, and pretty soon everyone is fucking around doing their own so-called training routine, which turns out to be nothing but dick .”
“I know,” Brad said. “I won’t miss any more. But I didn’t want to miss out on an ‘A’ mission.”
“Well, get your fucking priorities straight,” Ron said acidly. “I was at practice, and now I’m here, and tonight I’ll be on the FedEx ramp in Elko loading and unloading planes, and after that I’ll be at the AM/PM out there in Elko hoping I won’t get held up and the drunks won’t set the gas pumps on fire.”
“You got a job at the AM/PM in Elko too? You have two night jobs?”
“My mom’s boyfriend knows somebody,” Ron said. “It doesn’t matter. If I can do it, you can fucking do it. Just get your rear in gear and do what you said you’d do, or get the hell out of the way.” And he stormed off.
“Wow, he was sure mad,” Ralph remarked.
“I didn’t realize he was working so much,” Brad said. “He’s probably beat, driving all the way out to Elko and back. He works part-time afternoons at the Walmart too, at least until school starts.”
“Why is he working so much?”
“Helping out at home, I guess,” Brad replied. “He doesn’t talk about it much, after his Dad left and all. I know he likes to take his girlfriend out a lot too.”
“I’m never going to have a girlfriend,” Ralph announced.
“You say that now, but in a year it’ll be totally different,” Brad said.
“ You don’t have a girlfriend. You’re a pilot, and you’re on the football team, but you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I have friends that happen to be girls,” Brad said, surprised at how uneasy he felt, “but… I don’t know. Lots of reasons. Girls don’t like special-team guys like they do quarterbacks and linebackers; I’m not a private pilot yet, so I can’t take girls on rides; I’m fairly new in school, and… I don’t know, dating is just not high on my list right now. I’m thinking about college, and scholarships.”
Ralph sighed. “I wish I could go to college.”
“You can. We just need to work on your reading. You’re a smart guy — you just don’t learn like other kids.”
“I get tested every year in school. They say I’m like a fourth grader.”
“That’s compared to other students in school,” Brad said. “But how many kids you know can do all the first aid, orienteering, and fieldwork you do? How many kids can pick up a complex adult video game and figure out how to ace it in just a couple hours? Heck, how many kids do you know that have any idea what the one-in-sixty rule is?”
“But that’s easy.”
“It wasn’t when you started. I remember when I first tried to teach you land navigation and how to read a map and compass — you just didn’t have a clue. But you’re a visual learner.”
“What’s that?”
“You find it easier to learn by watching and doing rather than by reading a book or listening to a lecture,” Brad explained. “We tried to teach you map reading in a classroom for weeks and you never got it — you gave up several times. But once we took you out in the field, you learned to visualize the map with the actual terrain features, and once you got a compass in your hand and laid it on a map in the field, it all clicked. Same with video games or computers: you can read the instructions for a week and never get it, but we sit you down in front of one and just let you explore it, and soon you have it down cold.”
“But games and computers are easy,” Ralph repeated. “So why is school so hard?”
“Because traditional school is the same as it was in ancient Greece thousands of years ago — it’s listening to lectures in a classroom and reading books,” Brad said. “But that’s not always the best way to learn. You think the Paiute Indian boys learned how to hunt in a classroom ? The braves took the young boys out in the hills and showed them how to hunt elk and bighorn sheep. If they failed, they didn’t get an F — the tribe didn’t eat. You have to find the best way to teach a person, and it’s not always in a classroom. It depends on the student and the subject matter, I guess.”
Ralph nodded, then said, “I remember the land-navigation courses you taught. They were prerequisites for the fieldwork. I never passed any of the exams.”