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Aunt Julie smiles at me and reaches out, placing her hand against my cheek for a few seconds as if considering something.

She nods her head, “I’m glad you were along, Lucy. It’s nice to have you finally taking an interest.”

She is halfway to the door before she realizes what she has said. Turning, she cocks her head and raises an eyebrow, giving me a momentary stare before continuing on out through the door of my room.

I think she forgot who I am for a moment and was thinking I really am her niece.

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Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf by T D Aldoennetti on Saturday, 11/02/2008 - 7:02 AM, Air Force Sweetheart -- TacPzlSolGp Chapter 5 is revised and reposted on Tuesday, 12/06/2009 - 8:16 PM. ~Sephrena

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Ever onward – charge!!

Chapter 05

 

This evening I find I am becoming nervous and wind up eating only a salad, a small piece of chicken and a half glass of milk for supper. Conversation at the dinner table is fairly quiet, apparently none of us wants to mention my impending departure.

The next morning is Saturday and the three of us are off to the airfield. My flight is at 10:00 and we show up an hour and a half early so I can hand over three copies of my orders and my baggage can be delivered to the Air Force. My orders call for nine pieces at a maximum of 660 pounds, and if you count my briefcase and purse, which I am carrying on board, then I have five at about 160 pounds, well under my limit.

We wait for the flight to be called so everyone can pile on. My seat is up in officer’s country so I don’t need to go aboard immediately. Several times officers or enlisted personnel come by to check my orders and each time they are dissuaded by the presence of a General standing there with me.

Finally a Captain comes over and salutes us, “Ma’am, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for you to board. The aircraft is about to depart.”

“Thank you, Captain, I’ll be right there.” I give Aunt Julie a hug, “Thank you, I had a wonderful time.”

“I did too, young lady. I did too. Please don’t be a stranger.”

I smile at her and then turn to salute Uncle Phillip, “Good bye, Uncle Phillip. Will you be here when I return?”

“Yes, we’ll be here. I expect you to come visit us once you’re back.”

“Count on it. Well, I guess I’d better be going. I…. I love you both.”

I give them both hugs again, then turn and run to the aircraft, tears forming in my eyes which I wipe away with my hand before entering. It won’t do to allow enlisted men to see a grown officer crying. An Air Force Sergeant gives me his hand to help me into the plane. He smiles at me and offers me a handkerchief which I accept gratefully. As he closes the door, I blot my tears away.

“Ma’am, you can check your makeup in there. Hurry, though, you only have a minute or two before you need to be up front in your seat.”

I thank him, returning his handkerchief, repair my makeup quickly then go up to find my seat moments before we start moving for the runway and take off.

I find myself surrounded by brass, the only woman in officer’s country. There are a few senior to myself but most of us are Majors, Captains or Lieutenants.

With no in flight movie or refreshments, the flight is a long one. We land somewhere en route to take on more fuel. Looking out, there is a whole lot of nothing outside the aircraft.

We disembark, going to a “terminal” to wait and about an hour and a half later we are on our way again, finally arriving in Northern California. I go through military Customs, declaring the cash which causes some upset until they see my orders include the cash.

I find it hard to believe, but I miss Aunt Julie and Uncle Phillip already. My luggage is loaded into an Air Force bus along with that belonging to a number of enlisted men. I told them I would forego a separate car; it’s easier that way and in this case probably faster. We are given a ride to the civilian airport located about thirty minutes away.

With two months worth of pay in my purse plus a few hundred in cash from out of the briefcase, I am carrying more than enough for my airline tickets. This way I don’t need to open the briefcase while in a public place. At the airport I purchase a ticket for home and my luggage is checked. I have a copy of my orders and my home address in each checked bag.

They ask for a copy of my orders since I am in uniform and I tell them I am not flying standby even as I give them my orders. I want no delays so I pay full fare.

The charge isn’t that much more so I even bumped it to first class.

With a two hour wait and my stomach complaining at me, I have time for some food so I find a snack machine and pick up a little something to eat. Most of what is available is fattening so I am careful of what I purchase and how much I eat.

The days of restaurants at or very near the terminal have yet to arrive, if ever. If I had the money to invest right now, I’ll bet I could make a killing from a restaurant located inside the terminal.

After eating something (I think that describes it best), I find my gate and sit down to wait for my flight. I slept on the plane as we returned from Vietnam but for some reason I am still exhausted. Then too, the day is all messed up for me, as we left yesterday at 10:00 a.m. and arrived here at midnight. After several hours processing and then riding to the airport here, I am looking at about 4:00 in the morning, local time, while my stomach says that it’s about time for my evening meal.

My flight isn’t until 5:50. Checking a newspaper to determine just which morning this happens to be throws me into a little confusion. I seem to have arrived before I have departed. After about twenty minutes I realize this offers me an ‘extra’ day before I need to report. My week has become eight days.

I am sitting here, my head nodding, when I finally notice the noise level has increased. Opening my eyes and looking around reveals several dozen people sitting, waiting for the same flight. I check the time and reset my watch to local then advance it an hour for the time at home. I still have about twenty minutes before we are to board.

The stewardesses are just arriving with their little carry on luggage cases trailing behind them. That’s a great idea. I should purchase one of those. Never seen them before but that would be nice. We smile at each other as they begin to walk past. One of them stops and calls the others.

“Are you going to be boarding the next flight? If so, could we leave our luggage here with you for a few minutes?”

“Of course. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere until the plane arrives.”

They continue to the passenger counter where they begin going over the passenger list with the girl who just came up from downstairs. Now I see the plane pulling into the gate. It will be necessary to unload passengers and then clean the aircraft before we board. Still looks to be about twenty minutes.

I close my eyes and nod off once more. I hear a nearby sound and open my eyes to see a young girl staring up at me. I smile and she smiles then runs back to her mother. I close my eyes once more but again the sound changes so I again look around. The passengers are leaving the aircraft and entering the terminal. I close my eyes and again nod off.

“…Jackson. Major Jackson.”

I open my eyes and finally focus on one of the boarding attendants.

“Are you Major Jackson?”

“Yes?”

“It’s time for you to board, Ma’am.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I guess I’m still pretty tired.”

I look around and note the stewardesses have just retrieved their luggage and are taking it toward the aircraft. About half the people are getting up to line up before the boarding counter. I thank the boarding attendant and take my briefcase, purse and ticket up to the first class counter where they check me against their manifest and allow me to board the aircraft.

The boarding attendant who alerted me follows me aboard to do the passenger count as people are seated. The first class cabin is empty so I have my choice of a seat. The rest of the passengers are boarding and finally there are two more who show up for first class. I selected a seat near the only window on the left side and once again nod off to be awakened by the offering of a pillow by a stewardess.

“Thank you.”

“Would you like a blanket?’

“No, thank you. I’m fine with the pillow. Will a meal be served during the flight?”

“Yes. Breakfast will be about ten minutes after take-off.”

“That sounds wonderful. Would you awaken me?” I smile up at her.

“Certainly. Have a nice nap.” she crinkles her nose with a smile back to me as she goes on her way. I drift back to sleep.

I become vaguely aware of someone saying Lucy and once again become cognizant of my surroundings. Breakfast is available, so I sit up and quickly pull down my tray holder to prepare for my meal. There are eggs and bacon, plus a slice of toast and the usual beverages. I ask for milk rather than coffee. The meal is welcome. I guess what I needed was food. Now that I’ve had breakfast, I’m more alert.

After breakfast I pull one of the magazines out of the pouch on the seat before me and settle down to read. The dishes are collected about ten minutes later and I put the tray holder back up into the seat before me. Deciding to seize this opportunity to visit the restroom I take my purse and briefcase with me.

Checking and repairing my makeup once again, I then avail myself of the plastic ‘porcelain’ device in the room. After I complete everything and wash my hands, I return to my seat.

The stewardess, her duties completed for a minute or two, sits down next to me to quietly chat. She wonders if I am a nurse.

I tell her I work in Intelligence as an analyst, and occasionally as a field agent.

“A spy?”

I laugh, “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I mostly attend social functions where I listen to everything and then report anything which appears to be related to other things in which we have interest.”

“Isn’t that difficult? I mean how do you know what they are saying if they aren’t speaking English?”

“I speak and understand fourteen languages. You would be surprised how much information you can overhear, since men don’t believe women are worth worrying about. I can stand and listen to an entire conversation, but if my uncle walks past, they shut up until he is gone again.”

“Your uncle?”

“Yes, he is also in Intelligence and most of the rest of the community knows it so they are careful when he is near. They ignore me. Their mistake.” I give her a shrug and smile.

“Fourteen languages. How long does it take to learn fourteen languages?”

“I have a gift with languages. I knew parts of all fourteen within about two years and two years after that I was fairly fluent in them all. I may not be able to pass as a native speaker, but I can usually make myself completely understood.”

“Wow. I’m saving my money so I can go to medical school. I want to be a doctor but I doubt I’ll have enough money to go that far, so I’ll probably become a nurse.”

“Nurses have it rougher than the doctors. If you can make it as a nurse you could probably complete the studies and become a doctor. If your grades are good, you may even obtain a scholarship. You might think about the Army’s or the Air Force’s college program. They will pay for you to become a doctor if you hold your grades up and then you work as a doctor for the Army or the Air Force for eight years or so.

You should look into it, but don’t sign anything until you find out every little detail of what they are offering and what you must do in return. You might check out the Air Force first. I hear they have a great program just now. It is still worth examining both though. Unfortunately I haven’t heard anything about the Navy’s offerings in that area, so I’m unable to offer any guidance there.”

“Thanks for the information. I think I’ll check it out. My money might go a lot further that way, and I might be able to start my studies more quickly.”

“Another benefit, you would become an officer once you complete your training. With really top grades you could obtain Captain right out of school.”

We give each other a little hug and she is off again. That’s kind of nice. Girls will seek out another girl with whom to talk even if they don’t know each other, but they are unlikely to ask for the same information from a man. Yeah, we’re landing.

Must be Denver. My layover is only twenty minutes so I’ll need to rush. Hope my luggage makes it.

After the larger aircraft this twin engine prop driven aircraft looks rather small. Geez, all of twelve seats, glad there are only eight of us going on to Cheyenne.

We take off on time and, after a short flight, are soon landing once more. We have to walk a little more than sixty yards to the terminal, from the fifty yard line all the way through the end zone if the landing field were a football field. The luggage truck is trundling toward the aircraft even as we disembark.

Those of us who are waiting for luggage are crowding around the short conveyor belt which just goes around over and over until all luggage is claimed. I see most of my bags arrive, but the bag I have my gown in seems to be missing. I seize the opportunity to find the skycap and drag him and his cart inside to claim my luggage.

“The missing piece holds my gown, so it is long and flexible,” I tell him.

We continue to wait and finally it comes in on the conveyor belt. The porter checks the ticket and they match. Since everything made it, he puts it all on his cart, along with the luggage for two others as well. He takes it all out to the curb, where the taxis are beginning to arrive to wait for the passengers who disembark each time an aircraft is scheduled to land. Pretty smart, that porter, three tips for one trip.

My luggage is loaded into the cab and I tip him three dollars. Giving Mom’s address to the driver, we make hasty tracks for her house. About thirty minutes later we arrive and he unloads my luggage, I pay him, giving him a tip also.

Now I go to the front door and ring the bell. Nearly a minute goes by before Mom opens the door, saying, “Sorry, I was in the middle of….” She suddenly stops talking as she sees me standing there. Her face goes pale and fear begins to appear as her hands come up to her face.

“Mom? Mom? Are you okay?”

Now confusion prevails upon her face as she struggles with who she sees before her and the words she has heard in a female voice.

“I…. Who are you?”

“It’s me, Mom. I mean, It’s Charley. Mom, are you okay?”

“Charley? My Charley?”

“I hope so. I don’t remember being anyone else’s. Except the Army changed my name. Now my name is Lucy.”

“I…. You…, Charley?”

“Mommm.”

Just then our golden retriever comes loping up the drive toward the door. I stoop down and call him, “Come on, Happy. How’re you doing, fellow?” Happy comes over with a puzzled look on his face, as if he wanted to ask, ‘Who are you? How do you know my name?’

After a few seconds of scratching his back and patting his head, he remembers my scent from the times I wore girl’s clothes before, even though I’m wearing a uniform now.

His tail starts wagging like mad and he stands up on me. “Down! Down, boy.” He sits, then watches me carefully.

“That’s a good guy. Good Happy.” Happy goes into his normal excited mode as he dances around in circles coming back each time around for more pats.

“That’s the happiest I’ve seen him since before you went on active duty. How long may you stay?”

“I have a week’s leave, Mom. I need to spend some of it buying new clothes for my next assignment and cosmetics. A lot of cosmetics. The stuff they have over there is pitiful.”

“Come on in. I need to get back to the cooking. Janet and Tony are coming over this evening.”

“Okay, Mom. You go on back, I’ll bring my stuff in and change, then I’ll come help. You remember how I like to cook.”

“Yes, I remember. I hope you learned not to burn roasts.”

“Aww, Mom. I only did that once.”

“You sound so feminine. And you look feminine.”

“I know. I can’t let up for a minute. If I let up here then I might accidentally let it slip when it matters. I don’t think you want a telegram from the Army. Is my room still available?”

“Yes. There are a few things in the corner but there is plenty of room. There’s no vanity though, so maybe you should use your sister’s old room.”

“Oh…. Yeah…. Good idea. Thanks, Mom. I’ll be down as quick as I can.”

“Don’t rush, there’s plenty of time, and with both of us everything will be done much more quickly. I think I’ll call your sister and let her know you’re here.”

“Wait, Mom. Let it be a surprise. By the way, call me Lucy, Lucy Ann Jackson. That’s the name the Army gave me.”

“Lucy Ann? Where did they find that? That was my maternal great grandmother’s name. Your great, great grandmother.”

“Really? Interesting. I’d better bring everything in, Mom. Thanks for letting me use Janet’s room.”

Happy follows me back and forth as I bring everything into the house. Then we are a twosome going up and down the stairs as I carry everything up to my new room. He lays on the bed watching as I change clothes. I put my hair into a ponytail and slip on a pair of flats then go back down to help Mom in the kitchen.

I wash my hands and put on an apron then go to her for my assignment.

“Would you shell the peas…, Lucy? You may put them into a bowl in the refrigerator until we are ready to cook them. After that, pull out the recipe for that chocolate layer cake Tony likes and start mixing it.”

“Okay, Mom.”

I pull out a medium bowl from the dishes and begin to shell the peas. It’s a lot easier now that my fingernails are just a little longer. When this started about a week ago I didn’t cut them back again. They’re not as long as I’d like them to be, but that will change with a little time. When I’m in uniform they can’t be too long anyway.

Since I will be wearing civilian clothes most of the time during my assignment I may be able to let them grow and get away with it. I finish the peas, place the bowl into the refrigerator then take the shells and dump them into the garbage.

Now I rinse, dry my hands again and begin to rummage through the recipe box.

“Which chocolate cake, Mom? The marble or the fudge?”

“The fudge, honey.”

“Okay. I’m on it.”

I check the list of ingredients and go through everything we have. We need more cocoa for the cake mix and more bittersweet chocolate for the icing, plus a little butter, but everything else seems to be okay.

“Mom, I’m going to walk down to the store, we need more cocoa and bittersweet.

Is there anything else you need?”

“I don’t know off hand. Tell you what, call me from the store and if there is anything else I’ll let you know so you can pick it up at the same time. Do you need any money?”

“No. I’m fine. Call you in a few minutes.”

I go upstairs and grab my purse, then Happy, and I start out the door, “Bye, Mom. Happy is coming with me.”

“All right. Bye, honey.”

We walk down to the grocery and I look through the aisles before calling home.

Mom answers and gives me a list of a few more items she needs. After picking them from the shelves, and adding some milk bones for Happy, I take it all up to the register.

“Mornin’. Nice day isn’t it?”

“Yes. How are you, Mr. Carwell?”

“Doin’ good, young lady. Doin’ good. Glad to see you shoppin’ here instead of that new market down the street. I ’preciate it.”

I give him my best ‘I wouldn’t shop anywhere else’ smile as I wonder about the ‘market down the street’ reference. I pay him then open the box of milk bones so I can give one to Happy when I go outside.

“Bye, Mr. Carwell.”

“Take care now, youngin’.”

Mr. Carwell is a fixture around here. When I go out, Happy gets up and starts dancing around.

“Sit, Happy.” He does so promptly and I reward him with the milk bone which he crunches down before we start back.

Ten minutes and a few greetings later we are home again. A few people mistake me for Janet but they are across the street. Sis and I look enough alike that people were always confusing me for her if they didn’t see us together, so I just wave back.

Happy’s claws are clicking on the hardwood floor of the breakfast nook as he follows me as far as the edge of the kitchen before laying down. I give him another milk bone before I start unloading the bag I carried the groceries in.

“Good, Happy. That’s a good fellow.”

He accepts the milk bone and lays it across his paws as he soaks up my praise and pats. When I finish, he lowers his head to his paws, covering the milk bone with an obvious assertion of doggy ownership.

I remove everything from the bag and start putting it all away, but first pick up the new container of cocoa and add enough from it to bring the amount in the mix up to what the recipe calls for. Then I add another teaspoon for the oven and put the container away in the cupboard. Now I mix all the dry ingredients together, including the baking soda and baking powder, running the mixer until they are well blended before grabbing another, larger, bowl to start on the eggs, milk and other wet items.

Mom and I continue our conversation, bringing me up to speed on the goings on in town and some of the latest gossip and two major scandals which, somehow, the local politicians never seem to avoid. In the meantime, I’m still working, so I add a touch of vanilla and the rest of the liquids until finally it is time to take my dry mix and slowly blend it in.

The mixing continues for a minute or so, until the batter is smooth, then I pour everything into the two cake pans I prepared, carefully using the spatula to scrape out everything stuck to the sides of the bowl. I’m really enjoying myself. I taste the small trace of batter which remains stuck to the side of the bowl. It seems about right, but maybe a little too much sugar.

Mom, meanwhile, has been telling me about Tony’s business and how he and Janet are beginning to make something of it after the first three long lean years.

I consider the effect the extra sugar will have on my cake and decide it’s okay. It isn’t like making bread where the yeast would go crazy with this much sugar.

Considering bread, I think I’ll make some Portugese Sweetbread while I’m home.

The oven has pre-heated to 350 degrees as I prepared the cake mix. I pop in the cake pans checking the time.

Now it’s time to melt the bittersweet chocolate in the double boiler so I can prepare the icing. With a couple of pats of butter and two tablespoons of milk to start, I begin to add more bittersweet and twice more I add two tablespoons of milk then one more pat of butter. As the chocolate thins I add the last of the milk called for by the recipe while continuing to stir the mix.

I put in just a little vanilla, then begin to add the sugar.

Gradually, the mix is thickening and I continue to add the sugar until I have what I want in the mix. Lifting the boiler and placing it on the counter to begin to cool and thicken a little while, I take a toothpick to check the cake. Not quite done yet.

I begin to reconsider the amount of sugar which goes into a cake and its frosting, then vow not to eat much as I still need to lose some weight. I give the cake five more minutes and check it again. Pretty good. Five more minutes then I pull the pans and turn down the oven to save gas. As the cake and icing cool I think about making the bread.

“Mom, would you like me to make some Portugese sweetbread for supper tonight?”

“I’m sorry, honey. I made rolls while you were at the store. They’re in the upper oven rising until we are ready to bake them.”

I say, “Okay, Mom. I can make it another day,” as I check on the rolls. “I have nearly a week before I need to go and report in.”

“That gives me an idea. Would you wear your uniform this evening?”

“My uniform?”

“Yes. I want you to wait until they arrive, then you can go out through the back and around to the front. Wait a minute or two before you ring the bell and I’ll have Janet answer the door. I want to see her reaction. You look so good, honey. I thought you were here to tell me Charley had died. I had no idea it was you until I began to realize you look like Janet. You are so cute. This is how you will be for your assignment?”

“From now on, Mom. They tell me they can’t change me back. I’m Lucy from now on. Is that all right? They said they talked with you and Janet. They knew things about my dressing that they could only have learned from you two. They said you would donate eggs and so would Janet so I could still have a family….” I have a sudden feeling…. “They… didn’t talk with you at all, did they?”

“Yes, they spoke with us. They didn’t say it would be permanent. I…. It’s permanent?”

“Yes…. Mom? Could you still love me like this?”

She comes over and hugs me tight, “Of course I can, honey. I was just surprised that it’s permanent. I remember when you were a little girl…. I mean….”

“I know what you mean, Mom.”

“I still have photos of the two of you together. That one summer when you went for a month, I couldn’t get the two of you to separate. You made great sisters. I don’t know why I let you do it. I guess I just wanted two daughters for a while.”

“I’m glad you did, Mom. It was fun and I never told you but I really didn’t want to be a boy again. But, then again, I did. It’s different when I know I can change back. Now I don’t have a choice. Once the surgery is completed then I’m stuck, so what you see is what you get. Of course that’s not a bad thing. I just want a family. If I can’t mate with a woman and have one then I want to be able to mate with my husband and have one. I don’t think I will be able to do that and that’s what scares me. If I could be completely female and be able to have babies I think it would be so great. At least I’ll look completely female, even in X-rays. Anyway, here’s your second daughter.”

Mom hugs me tight again, holding her hands away so she doesn’t get food on my clothes.

“I’m sorry, baby. I wish you could have babies, too. It is such a blessing. A pain, but a blessing. At least there is one pain you won’t be having.”

“What pain, Mom?”

“A monthly period. Sometimes it can be quite a bother, and others it is quite light.

“The discomfort and hormonal imbalance for that short period can be difficult as well. Be thankful for small favors, Lucy.”

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To Be Continued...       © 2008, 2009 by T D Aldoennetti & Rénae Dúmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder) or her assigned representative. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. An Aldoennetti Original.