Going Down Part 1 by Author Brian Whitaker
The Mighty USS George Washington was churning away in the turbulent waters of the Yellow Sea. I was circling the carrier as I waited for my classified squadron to land. Finally it was my turn; I brought my thirsty bird around for one more orbit around the Washington.
I had her positioned for a treacherous landing; the wild wind buffeted her as I continued to bring her in. My tail hook was down, waiting to snag the third arresting wire and bring her to a safe grinding halt. The super carrier bobbed up and down in the violent sea as I continued to bring my nimble bird in.
My F/A-37 was undaunted as she defiantly flew through the tropical downpour. The rain began to come down in blinding sheets, but my Talon refused to be intimidated. Her keen optical sensors easily knifed through the watery interference and showed the bobbing Washington on my HUD, Head’s Up Display.
I was about a half a mile away from safety when a thunderous dazzling bolt of lightning flashed between me and my bobbing destination. My bird shook in the turbulent wake; I grabbed my flight stick with two hands to steady my wobbling fighter. “Whoa!” Commander Quinn’s voice boomed over the radio, “You okay lieutenant?”
“Fine,” I lied a lie that I’ve told countless of times. God Bless Miami, did that ever…hurt!
Privately I went to a civilian doctor and told her what I was going through. She confirmed what my eye doctor told me six years before. I had an inflamed V (5th) or trigeminal nerve, the condition was called Trigeminal Neuralgia. It is the most painful conditions known to man. I was given naproxen prescription to help alleviate the pain. If navy flight surgeons knew I had this condition I would be grounded and face the possibility of being kicked out of the navy. I had no desire to neither be the next Alan Shepard nor face the possibility of having a surgery that might not work.
I had been managing the pain quite effectively for the past few months, but this proverbial bolt out of the blue changed things for the worse. I felt like that bolt of electricity was repeatedly firing fiery daggers into my left eye. I winced and grimaced as I vainly commanded the pain to go away.
I could see the fuselage was radiating a golden yellow as the lightning bolt dissipated. Suddenly my forward swept wing big girl was responsive. It was as if she were flying herself down to the flight deck on autopilot. All lights were green, signaling a perfect landing. That was good, now I braced myself for more excruciating pain.
Going Down Part 2 by Author Brian Whitaker
The Talon snagged the third arrestor wire, she went from 150 mph to a dead stop in the blink of an eye. My left eye nearly exploded at the near sudden stop. I took a deep breath, held it, and closed my eyes. I opened them, the eye left felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing it with a butcher’s knife. I haven’t felt this much pain in years. I thought I knew how bad an attack was, but this felt like an 11-12 on the 0-10 scale.
I kept my cool, if they saw me acting in pain; I was as good as grounded. I closed my left eye and visualized the pain leaving it. It was something I learned how to manage pain better. I imagined the pain fleeing my eye in the form of laser beam, it sorta worked. I felt some of the pain ebbing, but I still felt the near debilitating stabbing pain. I gave the ground crew a thumb’s up and crawled down the ladder. I walked over to a door and opened it. I closed it behind me and stood there with my helmet still on. I closed my eye and again visualized the pain leaving.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt the stabbing pain shifting. I felt a twinge in my left ear, it quickly grew into a chronic pulsating pain as my left eye was now pain free. I was relieved, I could coolly fake it through the debriefing and go to my quarters and pop a naproxen and banish the pain for fifteen to sixteen hours.
Mercifully the debriefing wasn’t that long. The attack was getting worse. I leaned over the desk and pretended to take notes as I placed my left hand over my left eye, it was twitching. My left index finger felt as though it were dipped in oil and set ablaze. I have never ever felt all these symptoms hit at once, thank God it didn’t move into my scalp.
I calmly rose to my feet betraying the unadulterated agony I was in and proceeded to my quarters. I locked the door behind me. I rushed into the bathroom and hastily unzipped my bag. I fumbled for the bottle of naproxens. I must’ve looked like an addict who was in dire need of a hit as I opened the bottle. I grabbed a bottle of water and downed the powerful anti-inflammatory pill.
I was deep in thought about what to do tomorrow if the pain should come shooting back when a soft knock sounded. Without thinking I jerked my head around, which didn’t help the pain at all. I gave the door a curious look as I held my throbbing temple; grimacing in pain. Who could it be? CAG ordered Talon squadron straight to bed and get some well needed sleep. We were scheduled to fly air support for South Korean forces.
Another knock sounded, this one louder. I closed my eyes and opened them, I gazed up at the clock. I wondered who it could be, my poor donut eating heart began to anxiously pound. This couldn’t be official USN businesses or there would be a voice booming from the other side of the door as well as some impatient fist banging, sending me into a horrific migraine. I slowly walk over to the door and just as slowly opened it up.
I kept my cool, if they saw me acting in pain; I was as good as grounded. I closed my left eye and visualized the pain leaving it. It was something I learned how to manage pain better. I imagined the pain fleeing my eye in the form of laser beam, it sorta worked. I felt some of the pain ebbing, but I still felt the near debilitating stabbing pain. I gave the ground crew a thumb’s up and crawled down the ladder. I walked over to a door and opened it. I closed it behind me and stood there with my helmet still on. I closed my eye and again visualized the pain leaving.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt the stabbing pain shifting. I felt a twinge in my left ear, it quickly grew into a chronic pulsating pain as my left eye was now pain free. I was relieved, I could coolly fake it through the debriefing and go to my quarters and pop a naproxen and banish the pain for fifteen to sixteen hours.
Mercifully the debriefing wasn’t that long. The attack was getting worse. I leaned over the desk and pretended to take notes as I placed my left hand over my left eye, it was twitching. My left index finger felt as though it were dipped in oil and set ablaze. I have never ever felt all these symptoms hit at once, thank God it didn’t move into my scalp.
I calmly rose to my feet betraying the unadulterated agony I was in and proceeded to my quarters. I locked the door behind me. I rushed into the bathroom and hastily unzipped my bag. I fumbled for the bottle of naproxens. I must’ve looked like an addict who was in dire need of a hit as I opened the bottle. I grabbed a bottle of water and downed the powerful anti-inflammatory pill.
I was deep in thought about what to do tomorrow if the pain should come shooting back when a soft knock sounded. Without thinking I jerked my head around, which didn’t help the pain at all. I gave the door a curious look as I held my throbbing temple; grimacing in pain. Who could it be? CAG ordered Talon squadron straight to bed and get some well needed sleep. We were scheduled to fly air support for South Korean forces.
Another knock sounded, this one louder. I closed my eyes and opened them, I gazed up at the clock. I wondered who it could be, my poor donut eating heart began to anxiously pound. This couldn’t be official USN businesses or there would be a voice booming from the other side of the door as well as some impatient fist banging, sending me into a horrific migraine. I slowly walk over to the door and just as slowly opened it up.
Going Down Part 3 by Author Brian Whitaker
I saw a fiery voluptuous woman with the most dazzling emerald eyes I’ve seen. She was dressed in navy dress whites standing in front of me. My blood pressure spiked, sending more evil invisible daggers into my left eye. Standing at my door was the sultry New England Heroine, Ruby the Red Rose Witch. She snapped to attention and flashed a wild smile. The redhead snapped a rigid salute and boomed with contagious energy, “Ensign Ruby Rose reporting for duty, SIR!”
I liked it. I loved the enthusiasm. I loved the energy. It would’ve cheered me up on the gloomiest of Gotham winter days, but there were two little problems. First, it was too powerful; I winced and held my agonizing ear, but that was minor compared to her military protocol gaffe. Ensign Rose was saluting with her left hand. “Your other right…ensign,” I dryly stated as I held the metal door open.
“OH! Right! Yes, sir!” She quickly dropped her left and hand saluted with her right one, “Ensign Ruby Rose reporting for duty…SIR!”
I returned hers with a halfhearted, going through the motions salute and dropped it.
“Hello, Lieutenant Commander,” the shapely redhead purred dropping he salute.
“Ensign,” I replied.
She warmly smiled as she patiently stood there, folding her hands in front of her as she twisted her upper torso, “Sir, are you going to let me in?”
“Oh, uh…yeah! Where are my manners?” I answered thoroughly embarrassed. Where were my officer and a gentleman manners? I stepped aside as I held the door opened and allowed the undocumented officer to enter my quarters.
“Thank you darling,” she cooed as she strutted in. I closed the door and locked it as she turned around beaming.
This was around the time when I totally forgot about the near incapacitating pain I was experiencing. I know it wasn’t the naproxen- it doesn’t work that fast. I should’ve been in tons of pain as a myriad of questions blitzed my foggy brain. I settled for one, the most important one I could think of at the moment. Why would a superheroine enlist in the Armed Forces of the United States, “You joined the navy?”
“Yes!” she smiled.
“W-W-Why?” I replied.
“You,” the witch answered
I put my head back, “ME?”
The fiery redhead nodded, “Yes, sir!”
I liked it. I loved the enthusiasm. I loved the energy. It would’ve cheered me up on the gloomiest of Gotham winter days, but there were two little problems. First, it was too powerful; I winced and held my agonizing ear, but that was minor compared to her military protocol gaffe. Ensign Rose was saluting with her left hand. “Your other right…ensign,” I dryly stated as I held the metal door open.
“OH! Right! Yes, sir!” She quickly dropped her left and hand saluted with her right one, “Ensign Ruby Rose reporting for duty…SIR!”
I returned hers with a halfhearted, going through the motions salute and dropped it.
“Hello, Lieutenant Commander,” the shapely redhead purred dropping he salute.
“Ensign,” I replied.
She warmly smiled as she patiently stood there, folding her hands in front of her as she twisted her upper torso, “Sir, are you going to let me in?”
“Oh, uh…yeah! Where are my manners?” I answered thoroughly embarrassed. Where were my officer and a gentleman manners? I stepped aside as I held the door opened and allowed the undocumented officer to enter my quarters.
“Thank you darling,” she cooed as she strutted in. I closed the door and locked it as she turned around beaming.
This was around the time when I totally forgot about the near incapacitating pain I was experiencing. I know it wasn’t the naproxen- it doesn’t work that fast. I should’ve been in tons of pain as a myriad of questions blitzed my foggy brain. I settled for one, the most important one I could think of at the moment. Why would a superheroine enlist in the Armed Forces of the United States, “You joined the navy?”
“Yes!” she smiled.
“W-W-Why?” I replied.
“You,” the witch answered
I put my head back, “ME?”
The fiery redhead nodded, “Yes, sir!”
Going Down Part 4 by Author Brian Whitaker
A little snicker escaped my smiling lips before I realized what I was doing. I momentarily winced as the rebellious smile triggered more stabbing pains. I held my aching jaw until the pain ebbed before speaking. “I’m touched Ruby. I am, but you just don’t join the military without proper training, ala boot camp.” “I was given special exemption due to my superheroine status. The navy assigned me to Gotham, Admiral Doolittle said I reminded him of his granddaughter and assigned me as your official secretary!”
“Oh…that again,” I stated nearly sighing. Seems like the Old Man was still pushing the issue of me dating his granddaughter.
Rose ignored my ponderings and snapped her fingers, a pad materialized in her hand, “Tomorrow you have an interview with that annoying Flynn Beck on Vox News after you successfully bomb Pyongyang.” She stopped and shook her head, “No, that’s not right. He quit Vox News.” She scratched her fiery head with her pad's pin and finished, “Oh yes. It’s not Beck, it’s that conceited Riles O’ Reilly.”
“What?!?”
The young chipper ensign didn’t stop, she continued carrying on with my schedule, “Next Tuesday you have a meeting with the Drama City Defenders, followed by a luncheon with the Chartreuse Avenger…”
Huh? Did she say, “Chartreuse Avenger?” Charlotte absolutely hated my guts; she blamed me for the whole Darth Ned fiasco. My sexy assistant continued to babble on as I held up an index finger, “Ruby.”
One thing about Ensign Ruby Rose, when she gets on a roll, she doesn’t stop. The young officer kept going, tapping away on her little computer tablet.
“I raised my voice, “Ruby!”
The ginger continued to spill my future schedule of meetings until I barked, “ATTENTION!”
“Yes, sir!” she thundered as she snapped to the position.
“As you were,” I sighed taking a deep breath. I timidly placed my hard hands on her soft shoulders as I looked into her emerald hues. “What’s the real reason why you’re here?”
“You’ll find out…sir,” the witch calmly answered and clicked her slender fingers. A captain’s hat materialized on her pretty little crimson head, her rank suddenly changed to captain. Ruby had made the quickest leap in promotion since Barry Russo jumped from Lieutenant Commander to Commodore in less than a year on Star Trek. She handed me a mysterious ticket.
“Oh…that again,” I stated nearly sighing. Seems like the Old Man was still pushing the issue of me dating his granddaughter.
Rose ignored my ponderings and snapped her fingers, a pad materialized in her hand, “Tomorrow you have an interview with that annoying Flynn Beck on Vox News after you successfully bomb Pyongyang.” She stopped and shook her head, “No, that’s not right. He quit Vox News.” She scratched her fiery head with her pad's pin and finished, “Oh yes. It’s not Beck, it’s that conceited Riles O’ Reilly.”
“What?!?”
The young chipper ensign didn’t stop, she continued carrying on with my schedule, “Next Tuesday you have a meeting with the Drama City Defenders, followed by a luncheon with the Chartreuse Avenger…”
Huh? Did she say, “Chartreuse Avenger?” Charlotte absolutely hated my guts; she blamed me for the whole Darth Ned fiasco. My sexy assistant continued to babble on as I held up an index finger, “Ruby.”
One thing about Ensign Ruby Rose, when she gets on a roll, she doesn’t stop. The young officer kept going, tapping away on her little computer tablet.
“I raised my voice, “Ruby!”
The ginger continued to spill my future schedule of meetings until I barked, “ATTENTION!”
“Yes, sir!” she thundered as she snapped to the position.
“As you were,” I sighed taking a deep breath. I timidly placed my hard hands on her soft shoulders as I looked into her emerald hues. “What’s the real reason why you’re here?”
“You’ll find out…sir,” the witch calmly answered and clicked her slender fingers. A captain’s hat materialized on her pretty little crimson head, her rank suddenly changed to captain. Ruby had made the quickest leap in promotion since Barry Russo jumped from Lieutenant Commander to Commodore in less than a year on Star Trek. She handed me a mysterious ticket.
Going Down Part 5 by Author Brian Whitaker
I glanced down at it, picked my head up and gave her a quizzical look. “What’s going on, Ruby?” The Red Rose Witch didn’t answer; she walked over to the door as I continued to call her name. New England’s favorite ensign continued to ignore me; she magically opened the door and walked out of the room. “RUBY!” The witch stopped and turned around just outside the threshold, “Yes, Ryan?”
“What’s going on?” “Look at the ticket.” I looked down at the ticket harder this time. I was bewildered, it was issued for the doomed R.M.S. Titanic. I shot my head up, “Titanic? I don’t understand, what’s going on?”
The smug captain placed her hands on her hips. She slightly tilted her fiery redhead as she shifted her weight to one hip. “Will you go down with the ship with me or do you intend on leaving by lifeboat with the women and children?”
I stepped outside with the ticket in my hand. Instead of being inside the deep bowels of the Washington I was on the deck of the doomed Titanic. I could see my breath in the rising against the star scattered night. Needless to say it was a tad chilly. I could hear the painful time bomb inside my shivering cranium ticking. I was going to get my knit cap and put it on, that would stop the organic ordinance from exploding behind my ear, and then attempt to figure out her little game. One thing I’ve learned having TN, it doesn’t matter if it’s Florida or in the mountains of Colorado…cold is COLD to the trigeminal nerve.
“I’ll be right back,” I stated as I put my hand on the door handle. I pushed it down and promptly kissed the stupid door with my nose. Ow…I held my throbbing nose as I went down to one knee, much to Ruby’s amusement. She giggled, “Oh, Ryan. Stop being silly, the door is open.” “With being silly?” my snarling voice echoed from behind my hand. I stood up and attempted to open the ornery door. I didn’t open. I did everything imaginable to get that obtuse door to open. I even dropped a few Foxtrots, which I quickly apologized to the lovely young lady for my poor choice of vocabulary.
“Ryan,” she huffed and gently pushed me aside. She gripped the handle and pushed down. The wretched door didn’t open. She pushed down again before she furiously played with the disobedient handle. Ensign Rose took a step back and placed two fingers on the corner of her full lips. “No…”
I took the deepest breath the chilled April 1912 night air would let me. I swallowed hard, “Ruby, what did you do?”
“What’s going on?” “Look at the ticket.” I looked down at the ticket harder this time. I was bewildered, it was issued for the doomed R.M.S. Titanic. I shot my head up, “Titanic? I don’t understand, what’s going on?”
The smug captain placed her hands on her hips. She slightly tilted her fiery redhead as she shifted her weight to one hip. “Will you go down with the ship with me or do you intend on leaving by lifeboat with the women and children?”
I stepped outside with the ticket in my hand. Instead of being inside the deep bowels of the Washington I was on the deck of the doomed Titanic. I could see my breath in the rising against the star scattered night. Needless to say it was a tad chilly. I could hear the painful time bomb inside my shivering cranium ticking. I was going to get my knit cap and put it on, that would stop the organic ordinance from exploding behind my ear, and then attempt to figure out her little game. One thing I’ve learned having TN, it doesn’t matter if it’s Florida or in the mountains of Colorado…cold is COLD to the trigeminal nerve.
“I’ll be right back,” I stated as I put my hand on the door handle. I pushed it down and promptly kissed the stupid door with my nose. Ow…I held my throbbing nose as I went down to one knee, much to Ruby’s amusement. She giggled, “Oh, Ryan. Stop being silly, the door is open.” “With being silly?” my snarling voice echoed from behind my hand. I stood up and attempted to open the ornery door. I didn’t open. I did everything imaginable to get that obtuse door to open. I even dropped a few Foxtrots, which I quickly apologized to the lovely young lady for my poor choice of vocabulary.
“Ryan,” she huffed and gently pushed me aside. She gripped the handle and pushed down. The wretched door didn’t open. She pushed down again before she furiously played with the disobedient handle. Ensign Rose took a step back and placed two fingers on the corner of her full lips. “No…”
I took the deepest breath the chilled April 1912 night air would let me. I swallowed hard, “Ruby, what did you do?”
Going Down Part 6 by Author Brian Whitaker
The witch was mortified. Her green eyes wandered the entire deck of the predestined ship. "Oh Goddess,” she gasped. She was all eyes wide as she looked about her. The wild sea, lashed against the large ship as the realization hit. "No, I. Uh…" the mystified witch stumbled over her words, her red hair curled over her beautifully shocked face and ivory shoulders.
Oh, this wasn’t good. The naval witch was stammering over her words as if she were a Washington politician who was caught with her hands inside your piggy bank. I quickly looked around the deck, it was deserted. I put my hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I miscast the spell. I was thinking of the night we saved Terra Haute, Indiana from the gingerbread man army,” she confessed, hanging her redhead in shame.
I felt the temperature plunging. I shot my head up and saw it; the ominous towering iceberg was looming over the starboard bow. My instincts kicked in, I tackled Ruby. I covered her delicate face with my chest. The ship shrieked as the jagged ice tore into her flimsy hull, her cries of pain awakening my slumbering trigeminal nerve. Sharp chunks of ice fell around us and upon my back as the infamous iceberg continued to mercilessly tear away at the yelping Titanic.
The frosty air gave my cheek a chilling kiss, further inflaming my insane nerve. Pain quickly radiated throughout the misfiring neural system. I felt the wind’s icy claws sinking into my cheek, mercilessly trying to extract my teeth through it. The pain made me nauseous, I felt like regurgitating the last three dozen donuts I ate; yet somehow I made it to my feet. Split seconds later my head involuntarily jerked by an electric shock to the left eye. I closed my eye as another shock jolted it. My mouth salivated as the electric shocks jumped to my tongue. I could literally taste the metallic fiery pain on the left side of my tongue. Inexplicably, the pain hastily went into remission.
“Don’t be,” I replied as calmly as I could as I helped her up. I didn’t need her to be anxious or more nervous than she was. We needed her to be alert enough to conjure a spell and get us off the doomed ship, but he Titanic had other plans, a boiler room exploded followed by another.
The force of the shock wave knocked us off our feet. I held my left ear and lifted myself up to my knee. The deafening explosions reverberated deep inside it. The pain was near incapacitating. I looked over at Ruby; she was lying flat on her back. I could see her chest rising with every breath, but she wasn’t moving. I held my painful ear as I crawled over to her through the piles of jagged ice rocks.
I checked her vitals, they were fine but her emerald eyes told a different story. One was dilated the other normal, Ruby had a concussion. “Sorry Ry Ry, I miscast the spell,” she repeated as more explosions rocked the ship, causing the lights to flicker. The ship cried out as the last explosion violently ripped her apart. True to the space-time continuum the sad chapter of history was repeating itself, but the Titanic was sinking faster than she should.
An eerie soft soothing melody began to play. It gave me a sense of calm despite the horrific scene taking place around me. I remember hearing it in church; not being able to remember the lyrics, I hummed along until soft ethereal voices starting singing, “Nearer, my God to Thee.” The flickering lights went dead as the ship started to go under. The bow tipped up and the ship quickly sunk into the icy frigid waters. I did exactly what the prophetic Ensign Ruby Rose asked of me; I held her in my strong arms as the freezing dark North Atlantic waters swallowed us.
I bolted right up out of my sleep. The haunting words of the redheaded witch were echoing in my ear, “I miscast the spell.” The pain in my left ear rushed to the surface, I held the aching body part as I glanced at the clock. The pain increased as I saw that time had nearly stood still. “How?”
Sometimes time passes like black strap molasses running during winter. It’s maddening when it does for one suffering from chronic pain; it messes with our sense of time. Seconds seem like minutes, minutes like hours…except when you’re sleeping or trying to fall asleep then time travels at hypersonic speeds.
Another knock on the door sounded, this one was quieter than before. A sense of macabre déjà vu overcame me. I glanced back at the clock and then the door. I didn’t want to answer it, but I reluctantly did. I timidly walked over to the door as I held my aching ear. I closed my eyes, said a quick prayer and opened the door. Standing in front of me was Ensign Ruby Rose. She snapped to attention and saluted with her right hand, she spoke professionally and softly, “Ensign Ruby Rose reporting for duty…sir.”
Oh, this wasn’t good. The naval witch was stammering over her words as if she were a Washington politician who was caught with her hands inside your piggy bank. I quickly looked around the deck, it was deserted. I put my hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I miscast the spell. I was thinking of the night we saved Terra Haute, Indiana from the gingerbread man army,” she confessed, hanging her redhead in shame.
I felt the temperature plunging. I shot my head up and saw it; the ominous towering iceberg was looming over the starboard bow. My instincts kicked in, I tackled Ruby. I covered her delicate face with my chest. The ship shrieked as the jagged ice tore into her flimsy hull, her cries of pain awakening my slumbering trigeminal nerve. Sharp chunks of ice fell around us and upon my back as the infamous iceberg continued to mercilessly tear away at the yelping Titanic.
The frosty air gave my cheek a chilling kiss, further inflaming my insane nerve. Pain quickly radiated throughout the misfiring neural system. I felt the wind’s icy claws sinking into my cheek, mercilessly trying to extract my teeth through it. The pain made me nauseous, I felt like regurgitating the last three dozen donuts I ate; yet somehow I made it to my feet. Split seconds later my head involuntarily jerked by an electric shock to the left eye. I closed my eye as another shock jolted it. My mouth salivated as the electric shocks jumped to my tongue. I could literally taste the metallic fiery pain on the left side of my tongue. Inexplicably, the pain hastily went into remission.
“Don’t be,” I replied as calmly as I could as I helped her up. I didn’t need her to be anxious or more nervous than she was. We needed her to be alert enough to conjure a spell and get us off the doomed ship, but he Titanic had other plans, a boiler room exploded followed by another.
The force of the shock wave knocked us off our feet. I held my left ear and lifted myself up to my knee. The deafening explosions reverberated deep inside it. The pain was near incapacitating. I looked over at Ruby; she was lying flat on her back. I could see her chest rising with every breath, but she wasn’t moving. I held my painful ear as I crawled over to her through the piles of jagged ice rocks.
I checked her vitals, they were fine but her emerald eyes told a different story. One was dilated the other normal, Ruby had a concussion. “Sorry Ry Ry, I miscast the spell,” she repeated as more explosions rocked the ship, causing the lights to flicker. The ship cried out as the last explosion violently ripped her apart. True to the space-time continuum the sad chapter of history was repeating itself, but the Titanic was sinking faster than she should.
An eerie soft soothing melody began to play. It gave me a sense of calm despite the horrific scene taking place around me. I remember hearing it in church; not being able to remember the lyrics, I hummed along until soft ethereal voices starting singing, “Nearer, my God to Thee.” The flickering lights went dead as the ship started to go under. The bow tipped up and the ship quickly sunk into the icy frigid waters. I did exactly what the prophetic Ensign Ruby Rose asked of me; I held her in my strong arms as the freezing dark North Atlantic waters swallowed us.
I bolted right up out of my sleep. The haunting words of the redheaded witch were echoing in my ear, “I miscast the spell.” The pain in my left ear rushed to the surface, I held the aching body part as I glanced at the clock. The pain increased as I saw that time had nearly stood still. “How?”
Sometimes time passes like black strap molasses running during winter. It’s maddening when it does for one suffering from chronic pain; it messes with our sense of time. Seconds seem like minutes, minutes like hours…except when you’re sleeping or trying to fall asleep then time travels at hypersonic speeds.
Another knock on the door sounded, this one was quieter than before. A sense of macabre déjà vu overcame me. I glanced back at the clock and then the door. I didn’t want to answer it, but I reluctantly did. I timidly walked over to the door as I held my aching ear. I closed my eyes, said a quick prayer and opened the door. Standing in front of me was Ensign Ruby Rose. She snapped to attention and saluted with her right hand, she spoke professionally and softly, “Ensign Ruby Rose reporting for duty…sir.”
Going Down Ending by Author Brian Whitaker
The sultry witch remained silent as she stood saluting. I returned it, but the scowl on my granite chiseled face told the whole story. She dropped her salute, stepped in, and removed my hand from my ear. Ruby did what loving mothers do, she kissed my ‘boo boo’ to make it feel better. However, unlike our moms, the excruciating pain was instantaneously banished by her glossy red lips as well as melting my indignant anger. She gazed into my eyes as her soft hand caressed my cheek, “Better?” I nodded my head, “Yes…thanks.”
Ruby confessed that she hovered a few miles off the Washington’s port bow and fired the blinding plasma bolt. She conjured an animation spell as the blinding bolt dissipated; my bird briefly came to life and landed on her own. The fiery witch placed her soft hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. She led me over to my bunk and sat down with me. She flicked her silky red head back; she tilted it. “Ryan, we’ve battled dragons, unearthly armies, extraterrestrial beings and the likes. You’re a mighty noble warrior. You know how much I adore you, but it pains me to ask this: What would happen if you were to miscast a spell?”
I lost my breath. The sobering thought never entered my mind. I was too busy worrying about me and my distinguished naval aviator career that could one day transform into an astronaut one. I had the potential of killing thousands of innocent civilians on an airstrike; kill, maim or wound scores of sailors on a bad carrier landing if a trigeminal attack struck me during a mission. I placed my hand on atop of hers and squeezed it. She looked me in the eyes, “I’ll stand by you no matter what.”
True to her word, Ruby, my trusted shapely friend, stood by my side as I handed over my wings to Commander Quinn. I knew fully well I had just ended my decorated aerial military career as well as commanding the first US moon mission in nearly 50 years.
A stoic CAG looked at them, glanced up at me and back down at them. He kept his head down as he went back to his paper work, “I assume there’s a logical explanation for all this, lieutenant.” “TN pain came back.” “When?” “Final approach to the Washington.”
“You are hereby relieved of your command of Crusader Squadron, Lieutenant Pike will assume it. Ensign Rose will escort you back to Gotham NAS,” CAG stood and finished as he offered his hand, “God speed son.” I shook his hand and snapped a salute that he returned, he dropped his and I followed suit. I walked out the door with Ruby still at my side. I closed the door and looked at it, “My, he took that well.”
Ruby quickly deflected my observation, “Come Ry Ry…I’ll help you pack.” She laced her fingers with mine. Then I understood what had happened. Once again my red, white, and blue colored blood began to boil, “Hey, you told him!”
Ensign Rose placed her slender index finger on her full lips; she opened a metal door and pulled me along. I stepped into the friendly confines of my humble quarters. My bags were sitting on my sofa, exactly where I had them before I left. I looked back and the door had magically disappeared. I faced the young officer; I had scores of questions running through my bewildered brain, namely…was this real?
“I can assure you that the rest of Crusader Squadron is halfway across the world on the Washington; your landing and dream were also just as real.”
“How? How? How…”
“I figured you’d prefer a magical portal over a C-2 Greyhound flight. They aren’t known for their amenities,” Ruby paused and placed her hands on her lower back as she continued, “Being top heavy, I have enough lower back issues as it is.” I nodded my head in agreement, “The constant drone of the engines would drive me insane,”
My sultry escort pushed her curvy upper torso forward; the two top buttons of her uniform couldn’t take the strain and popped open. She took a few steps and pressing that chest against me, wrapping her arms around my neck, “I’ve been a bad girl sir, I’ll promptly report to your room.” “Belay that ensign, my mom would kill me, not counting that it would be fraternization.” “Which is why you haven’t taken me to Miami to see her, I understand. I’m not that kind of girl. However, technically, I am not under your command, sir.” She gave me the green light; I placed my hand on her cheeks and pulled her in for a soft tender kiss. She was all dreamy eyed as we pulled away. “For a moment there flyboy, I thought I was going to have to pry it out of you.” “I’m slow at times,” I retorted with self-deprecating humor. She shook her head and widely smiled, “You’re too much.”
We moved in for another kiss, our lips pressed. I placed my hand of the back of her redhead as the intensity increased. A second later there was a show stopping knock at the door. We broke our lock, looked at the door, and then looked back. I asked, “Did you tell anyone I was back.” “Lieutenant Commander Ryan Tiberius Wolf, I’m trying to seduce you,” she purred, “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Must be a girl scout wanting to sell me some pumpkin cookies. I’ll be right back.” We shared a quick smooch. She turned around and began to button the top buttons her uniform as she walked into my room. The knock sounded again, in an effort to keep my most malevolent nerve quiet, I covered my bad ear, “Coming!” I opened the door and nearly froze. I saw a crotchety old man in a white uniform; he had snow for hair. He was glaring at me as he chomped away on his unlit crony cigar. I quickly shot to attention. It was the Old Man, Admiral Doolittle himself. “Commander,” he growled, “I have a proposition for you.”
To be continued in ‘Mr. Certified’
Ruby confessed that she hovered a few miles off the Washington’s port bow and fired the blinding plasma bolt. She conjured an animation spell as the blinding bolt dissipated; my bird briefly came to life and landed on her own. The fiery witch placed her soft hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. She led me over to my bunk and sat down with me. She flicked her silky red head back; she tilted it. “Ryan, we’ve battled dragons, unearthly armies, extraterrestrial beings and the likes. You’re a mighty noble warrior. You know how much I adore you, but it pains me to ask this: What would happen if you were to miscast a spell?”
I lost my breath. The sobering thought never entered my mind. I was too busy worrying about me and my distinguished naval aviator career that could one day transform into an astronaut one. I had the potential of killing thousands of innocent civilians on an airstrike; kill, maim or wound scores of sailors on a bad carrier landing if a trigeminal attack struck me during a mission. I placed my hand on atop of hers and squeezed it. She looked me in the eyes, “I’ll stand by you no matter what.”
True to her word, Ruby, my trusted shapely friend, stood by my side as I handed over my wings to Commander Quinn. I knew fully well I had just ended my decorated aerial military career as well as commanding the first US moon mission in nearly 50 years.
A stoic CAG looked at them, glanced up at me and back down at them. He kept his head down as he went back to his paper work, “I assume there’s a logical explanation for all this, lieutenant.” “TN pain came back.” “When?” “Final approach to the Washington.”
“You are hereby relieved of your command of Crusader Squadron, Lieutenant Pike will assume it. Ensign Rose will escort you back to Gotham NAS,” CAG stood and finished as he offered his hand, “God speed son.” I shook his hand and snapped a salute that he returned, he dropped his and I followed suit. I walked out the door with Ruby still at my side. I closed the door and looked at it, “My, he took that well.”
Ruby quickly deflected my observation, “Come Ry Ry…I’ll help you pack.” She laced her fingers with mine. Then I understood what had happened. Once again my red, white, and blue colored blood began to boil, “Hey, you told him!”
Ensign Rose placed her slender index finger on her full lips; she opened a metal door and pulled me along. I stepped into the friendly confines of my humble quarters. My bags were sitting on my sofa, exactly where I had them before I left. I looked back and the door had magically disappeared. I faced the young officer; I had scores of questions running through my bewildered brain, namely…was this real?
“I can assure you that the rest of Crusader Squadron is halfway across the world on the Washington; your landing and dream were also just as real.”
“How? How? How…”
“I figured you’d prefer a magical portal over a C-2 Greyhound flight. They aren’t known for their amenities,” Ruby paused and placed her hands on her lower back as she continued, “Being top heavy, I have enough lower back issues as it is.” I nodded my head in agreement, “The constant drone of the engines would drive me insane,”
My sultry escort pushed her curvy upper torso forward; the two top buttons of her uniform couldn’t take the strain and popped open. She took a few steps and pressing that chest against me, wrapping her arms around my neck, “I’ve been a bad girl sir, I’ll promptly report to your room.” “Belay that ensign, my mom would kill me, not counting that it would be fraternization.” “Which is why you haven’t taken me to Miami to see her, I understand. I’m not that kind of girl. However, technically, I am not under your command, sir.” She gave me the green light; I placed my hand on her cheeks and pulled her in for a soft tender kiss. She was all dreamy eyed as we pulled away. “For a moment there flyboy, I thought I was going to have to pry it out of you.” “I’m slow at times,” I retorted with self-deprecating humor. She shook her head and widely smiled, “You’re too much.”
We moved in for another kiss, our lips pressed. I placed my hand of the back of her redhead as the intensity increased. A second later there was a show stopping knock at the door. We broke our lock, looked at the door, and then looked back. I asked, “Did you tell anyone I was back.” “Lieutenant Commander Ryan Tiberius Wolf, I’m trying to seduce you,” she purred, “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Must be a girl scout wanting to sell me some pumpkin cookies. I’ll be right back.” We shared a quick smooch. She turned around and began to button the top buttons her uniform as she walked into my room. The knock sounded again, in an effort to keep my most malevolent nerve quiet, I covered my bad ear, “Coming!” I opened the door and nearly froze. I saw a crotchety old man in a white uniform; he had snow for hair. He was glaring at me as he chomped away on his unlit crony cigar. I quickly shot to attention. It was the Old Man, Admiral Doolittle himself. “Commander,” he growled, “I have a proposition for you.”
To be continued in ‘Mr. Certified’
Other Short Stories by Brian Whitaker
Photo used under Creative Commons from wbaiv
