I stare out of the windshield at the sun shining on the trees, grass, and houses as we pass. Should I do what we agreed even though we were only telling a story? Is she is okay? Should I just focus on creating a safe environment here for my kids? I haven’t had any contact with Lynn for the past two days. She hasn’t been online and no phone calls either. I called and left a message but have not heard anything back. No great revelation comes. No light bulb suddenly flares in my mind. With the kids looking out of the windows, the trees just continue to pass, unaware of our situation and without a care to my quandary.
Both thoughts and questions continue to rattle back and forth. The movie drive-in passes by on our left with “CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE” on the sign board. Oh, the fun times the kids and I had there on summer nights. Bri always wanting to watch from the back of the pickup and me wanting to be inside because I couldn’t hear the speakers very well. Her falling asleep during the second movie and me having to wake her when we arrived back home. Both her and Nic just appreciating our being together; loving the moment more than the event. Or the times where it was just Robert and I. Popcorn, drinks, and a multitude of snacks from the service station nearby. “300” on the screen in front and us proclaiming this was the best movie ever. Those times are over now and this is just one of the many changes that have occurred in this new world we find ourselves in.
Turning off the highway towards home, my heart is light, because my kids are safely with me, but heavy with thoughts of Lynn. My stomach is in knots when a decision clicks into place. I have to find her. I have to go to Kuwait. The guilt and shame of not trying would be too much. I love Lynn and can’t, no won’t, do anything less. My decision is made, as if there were truly any other. My thoughts turn to the when and how.
A Trip to the Store
Pulling into the driveway, I turn off the engine, and we climb out of the Jeep. Carrying the shotgun, Robert gingerly steps across the gravel and walks toward my little cottage. Nic and Bri are right behind. Normally, my little Bri would be making a little noise about walking on the gravel barefoot, but neither an utterance nor word comes out.
“No, we are going into Mom’s house,” I tell Robert and he switches direction in mid-stride to the front porch.
The front door opens and Mom steps out onto the porch. “Thank goodness you are alright,” she says in a sigh-like voice and comes forward to give them all hugs.
We walk into the house, a little darker now than when I left but the window shades are open giving a little light. “I see the power has gone out,” I mention as I walk through the kitchen that opens from the entry way.
“Happened right after you left.”
The kitchen opens into a sitting room ahead with a mostly glass door that lets in quite a bit of light and leads to a small deck outside. Her computer desk sits against a half wall to the left and ceiling-high bookcases fill the right wall. Turning left out of the kitchen, the living room is illuminated by only two windows set into the far wall along the right and is therefore a little dark. A wood stove sits in an alcove in the middle of the wall between the windows. Her white couch sits against the half wall and two reclining chairs rest on the other side of her large, Persian-style rug.
“Set the shotgun there,” I tell Robert pointing to the corner of the desk. “I’ll be right back.”
I head out to the cottage sitting in a small copse of cedar and firs where I am staying to get some clothes and shoes for the kids. A single room with my bed, two couches, a large screen TV for movies and the Xbox, a small kitchen, two closets and a small bathroom with a shower. It’s small but it suits me and I like it. The sound of the birds chirping away in the trees fills the air around me but I pay little attention to them as my mind goes through various aspects of the venture I am about to set in motion. Items I will need to take; food, water, warm clothes, weapons, and first aid. The absence of weather reports, maps I will need, going on the assumption of no navigational aids, my route, the hope that GPS still works, what will I face, contact, fuel stops, oh, and yeah, the fact that I will have to learn to fly a different aircraft. Hopefully I’ll be able to find a checklist and manuals on board.
I gather what I need. Jeans for Bri, and shirt, jacket, socks, and the specially-ordered converse shoes I gave her for Christmas. The same for Nic. Socks and the boots I bought for Robert for our hiking trips up the creek to the falls. We can still do that I guess, I think briefly piling their stuff in my arms. Or maybe not. I have no idea what the future may hold or what the world around me looks like. Outside, the early afternoon sun greets me as if nothing has changed.
Coming back into Mom’s house, I hand the various articles to Robert, Nicole, and Brianna. Bri takes her clothes and disappears into the bathroom, Nic into one of the bedrooms.
“Thanks,” Robert says and leans forward, stretches the thick, white socks over his feet and puts on his boots.
I walk into the laundry room by the front door. Mom has cases of bottled water stacked there. We live in the country and loss of power is no stranger so she stockpiles water. I pull several bottles out and head back, hand them out, and plop into the other chair beside Robert. Nic and Bri come out. I hand them water and they sit next to Mom on the couch.
Silence fills the room as we are all wrapped in our own thoughts. I have a vague idea of my route, plan, and items I need. My quandary is about the kids. Half of me wants to bring them; have them in sight and therefore safe; not wanting to leave them. The other half says to leave them here and not bring them into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation. Not only the danger of what awaits out in the world, but of the unknown aspects of my now-planned flight. Fuel, engine malfunctions, my not being familiar with the type of aircraft I plan to take, weather, all of these things and those I am sure I am not thinking of.
My basic plan runs along these lines. I will need an aircraft capable of long-range flight meaning some form of transport aircraft. My preference is military as that is the type I am used to, has the radio gear I will most likely need when I get there, is a little more reliably maintained, and has cargo capacity in case I want or need it. Plus, being geared for combat scenarios, they are a little more structurally sound and have better short and soft field takeoff and landing capabilities. The only drawback is their need for JP-4 fuel which then requires the need for military fields for refueling. Normal civilian turbine-powered aircraft can use Jet-A fuel which can be found at any airfield.
The thought of using a long-range business jet crosses my mind. They have a longer range than military transports, are faster, and have a higher ceiling meaning I can climb over weather should the need arise. Why am I not taking one? I ask yet again before the unknown elements come back into mind. I may not have the luxury of a long runway and may have to set down in some unimproved area. Much better to have the flexibility and capabilities that military transports afford.
Back to the basic plan. McChord AFB is primarily a transport base flying the C-17’s. I am not exactly sure of the range but I believe it to be around 3,000 nautical miles. That should be sufficient for what I need. Head over to the east coast and land at a military base to refuel. From there to the Azores for another refueling stop. I may not be able to make the jump from there all of the way to the desert as that would be pushing the range. Possibly a stop in Italy. That will depend on the range from the charts I hope to find. Make my calls on guard — the emergency frequency — along the way to see if anyone is still about and then call about 100 miles out from Kuwait.