Angel Flight

"Our flight isn't until tomorrow morning so I decided to come to the ceremony."

"I'm glad you did," he told her. "And you look very nice, by the way."

It was maybe 50 degrees or so, and like pretty much everyone else, Kimber was wearing a coat, but she still looked very nice, and James couldn't help but notice how beautiful her hair was when it was down.

"Thank you, and may I say you do, too."

Before he could respond she said, "I don't even know your name or if I did, please forgive me for forgetting it. I tend to meet quite a few people."

James laughed quietly and said, "That's an understatement, I'm sure."

She also laughed before he said, "I'm James."

"Kimber," she told him.

"Oh, I didn't forget yours," he told her with a smile.

"So what it is you do when you're not escorting WWII veterans to the nation's capitol?" she asked, showing off that amazing smile of hers.

"I'm a med..."

"Ladies and gentleman. May I have your attention please," they heard a voice over a PA system say.

A small motorcade pulled up, and based on the way people in uniform reacted, it had to be the Secretary of the Air Force.

"This is so amazing," Kimber whispered. She'd already forgotten he never answered her question. "I love this sort of thing, but rarely get the opportunity to be a part of them."

"I really am glad you came," James said quietly just as the voice spoke again.

"Ladies and gentlemen. The Secretary of the Air Force, The Honorable..."

Everyone in uniform came to attention but no one saluted because he was neither the commander in chief nor a commissioned officer. A man with graying hair smiled, waved at the crowd, then took his place in the reviewing stand after shaking hands with the three veterans in attendance.

The national anthem was played, the colors were posted, and the secretary made his remarks. He lavished praise on 'the greatest generation' and told them the nation was forever grateful for their sacrifices along with other prepared remarks.

Miles had very little to say when given the opportunity. His few words were to thank his family, his friends, and his buddies who didn't come home.

"They're the true heroes, you know," he said, his frail voice carried by the microphone.

Neither of the other men spoke, but they did do their best to help the secretary lay a wreath near the memorial. The secretary then made a few closing remarks before letting everyone know that concluded the ceremony.

"Would you care to join me and maybe walk around?" James asked as the crowd began to dissipate.

"I'd be honored," Kimber said.

"May I?" he asked as he offered his arm.

Kimber slid her hand inside and James led them over to where Miles was sitting. He was talking with the other two men, and both James and Kimber waited patiently for him to finish.

It took him a second to realize who she was when he finally looked up, but Miles did smile at her when he recognized their flight attendant.

"Hello again, sir," she said as she shook his hand again.

"It's the looker," he said as he stood up as straight as he could.

"Speaking of lookers, you look very nice yourself, Mr. Stewart," Kimber told him.

"Oh, well, any day I get out of bed is a good day," he told her.

Kimber laughed and asked if he'd like to look around with them.

"Well, I suppose I would," he said.

"Come on. James and I will happy to go with you if you'd like," she told him.

"Yes. I think that'd be the smart thing to do. A fella could get lost around here pretty easy," Miles said as he looked around the best he could.

Kimber offered him her free arm and the three of them slowly headed over to a wall that displayed just over 4,000 gold stars on it, each one representing one hundred men killed during the war.

As they approached the wall, James explained the meaning of the stars, and Miles stopped, stood as straight as he could, and saluted. He moved a little closer and stood there just looking at the stars that stretched for a very long way to his left.

"I wonder which one of these is for the boys on my crew," he said as he looked up and down then left and right. He reached out a hand and touched one of them.

As he placed his palm on it he said, "I reckon it could be this one."

James was once again fighting misty eyes, and Kimber had already lost the battle as they heard him say, "Captain Weathersby. Lieutenant Rollins. Sergeant Andrews. Toby McAllister. David Edmonds. John Davis. Allen...

There was a brief pause, then Miles again said, "Allen..."

Neither of them knew what was happening when they saw him bow his head, his hand still on the star. Then, very slowly, he slumped over and almost gently laid down.

"Excuse me," James said as he pulled his arm away.

"James? What's going on?" Kimber asked.

He knelt down, gently turned the man over, and felt for a pulse.

"Do you need me to call 911?" she asked, her voice staying calm from the years of training.

"No," James said quietly.

Finding no pulse he said, "He's with his buddies."

"What? Oh, my God. James? Is he...is he..."

"He's gone," James told her as he stood up.

The Air Force NCO assigned to them was watching from maybe 20 feet away, and when he saw Miles go down, he ran over to see if he could help.

"Are you sure?" the sergeant asked.

"I'm not a doctor yet, but I am a third-year medical student," James said. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Jesus," the airman said.

He looked around frantically then said, "Let me see if the secretary is still here."

He was, and within moments, he was personally on the phone to the Pentagon which wasn't far away. In fact, it was pretty much visible from where they were standing.

The master sergeant came back a minute or so later with another man in uniform. They were carrying a US flag and after respectfully laying Miles body out straight, they gently closed his eyes then covered him with the flag, stood at attention, saluted, then waited.

In less than fifteen minutes, a military ambulance was there along with three other people in uniform who made sure the body of Miles Stewart was placed on a gurney then moved with the dignity and respect he deserved.

Miles's two colleagues had been informed of what happened, and as the flag-draped gurney passed by them, they saluted as best they could, their eyes filled with tears for their fallen comrade.

Kimber stayed with James as they followed the gurney to the ambulance. The air force secretary was standing there, and when told who James was said, "We'd like to arrange to take him home. Would you be willing to escort him back?"

"Of course, sir," James said.

"Sir?" Kimber interjected. "I was the flight attendant on his flight out here, and I believe he and Mr..."

"Kirk," James told her. Kimber was too distraught to catch the significance of the name.

"I believe Mr. Kirk and Mr. Stewart are scheduled to fly back to Seattle on our plane. If I can help in any way, just let me know."

"Could you call your company and see if they'd designate the return trip an 'angel flight' for a fallen hero?" he asked.

That honor was normally reserved for someone killed in action and whose body was being taken to its next destination on board a flight.

"Of course. I'll call my captain right now. He has that authority, and I'm certain he'll okay it," she said.

"Great. Let my executive assistant here know the details, and if you need me to weigh in at any point, just ask, okay?"

With that, the secretary left, leaving behind an Air Force colonel with a blue braid on his uniform. He was what the Army and Marine Corps called an Aide or, more formally, an Aide-de-camp. The Air Force didn't use that term and liked to joke about how they didn't have...AIDS.

Within minutes, Kimber had the approval, and the colonel did all the coordination from there on arranging for the body to be encased to be flown home for embalming or cremation.

It was only 2:15 and so much had happened so fast heads were spinning.

"You okay?" James asked Kimber.

"Me. Oh. Sure. How are you?" she asked in return.

"Shocked? Saddened? Dumbfounded?" he replied.

"James? I'm just so grateful you took the time to bring him here," Kimber said with complete sincerity.

"You know, it's almost as though this was meant to be or something," he said quietly.

"Maybe it was. These are the kinds of things we just can't know for sure. Even if it was pure coincidence, it's hard to imagine a better place for a hero's life to end; the very place meant to honor men like Mr. Stewart."

"You're quite an amazing woman, Kimber...whose last name I still don't know."

"It's Lang. Like Lana Lang in the Superman movies," she told him, as she tried to smile. "Well, actually, that was my late-husband's name, but I've heard all the jokes."

"She was beautiful, too," James told her with a smile of his own.

"And you mentioned your name, but in all the commotion I don't remember what you said. Would you mind telling me again, please?" she asked.

"Kirk. As in James T. Kirk."

"I'm not sure I follow," Kimber told him, knowing there was something she was missing.

"Star Trek? The USS Enterprise?"

"Oh, okay. Yes. Sorry. I'm not much for Sci-Fi, but I have heard of Captain Kirk."

She smiled then said, "He was handsome, too."

James smiled weakly then said, "Do you have any plans for the afternoon?"

"Not really. I was going to go back to our hotel and relax. Why? Did you want to do something? I'd be happy to keep you company if you don't mind hanging out with a middle-aged flight attendant."

James lowered his left eye with a tilt of his head, and said, "Seriously? You're playing the middle-age card when you're more attractive than 99% of the girls I know in college?"

Kimber laughed and thanked him for making her day.

"No. I'm being serious. They can't hold a candle to you," he said using her phrase.

She thanked him again then asked what he might like to do.

"Well, I think I'd like to see the rest of this memorial then maybe go back over to Arlington National Cemetery. I've never been and may not ever get back to DC."

"If we can include a cup of hot chocolate or coffee somewhere in there, I'd like that very much."

"Done deal," James said before extending his arm again.

Kimber smiled, took it again, then began walking with him.

"It really adds a special kind of meaning to this place, doesn't it?" she said as they began passing hundreds of large, gold stars.

"It does. There were about 408,000 US deaths in WWII which began with Pearl Harbor in December of 1941, and lasted all of 1942, '43, '44, and half of 1945. A rough estimate is maybe 1,300 days total. That works out to about 310-315 or so killed in action every day. On average, of course."

"The population was so much less then, too. It's just so hard to imagine that kind of loss today. We lost what? Five or ten thousand in both wars since 9/11, right?"

"I think that's about right," James agreed.

"Every single life is precious, but in 17 years that's...well, that's not even close," she said. "And I say that as someone who's never even been anywhere near a war. It's just an add-on to your comment."

"Well, the streets of heaven gained one more today," James said in response.

"Yes. Yes, they did," Kimber agreed.

They strolled around the monument in reverent silence for a good while before James asked, "Are you cold?"

"A little," Kimber replied.

"How about that hot chocolate?"

"I'd like that," she said with a warm smile.

It didn't take long to find a coffee shop. The bad news was they didn't serve hot chocolate.

"That's okay. I love coffee, too," Kimber assured him. "And I can pay for mine."

"I'm sure you can," James said politely with a smile as he ordered two coffees and paid for them both.

"Thank you," Kimber said when he handed one to her. "Do you want to sit down and talk some more?"

"I do," James told her as they found an open table.

He helped her with her chair, and that both surprised and impressed her as she thanked him again. He sat across from her and held up his cup.

"To Miles Stewart. Rest in peace."

"Yes. To Miles," she said.

They both took a sip, and Kimber was very relieved to be inside. It wasn't all that cold outside compared to her hometown of Seattle. It was just such a raw kind of day that being out was anything but pleasant.

"Did I hear you say you were in medical school?" Kimber asked before taking a second sip.

"Oh. Yes. I've got one semester left," James told her. "Well, plus another three weeks or so once I get back."

"Doctor Kirk," she said with a smile. "That wasn't the doctor's name on Star Trek, though, was it?"

James laughed and told her it wasn't, then replied to her 'Doctor Kirk' comment.

"Technically, yes. But I still won't be allowed to do much of anything without constant supervision, but I will indeed be a doctor."

"That's very impressive, James," she told him sincerely. "Do you know what you want to specialize in yet?"

"Not for sure, but after meeting Miles I'm giving serious consideration to geriatric medicine. The fancy name for it is gerontology."

"You know, that doesn't surprise me. I really don't know you well, but I can tell you're a kind, caring person. I could see you doing that or maybe even working with children."

"I thought about pediatrics for a while, but I don't think I'm cut out to deal with children suffering. Yes, I could do a lot to alleviate their suffering, but that's true in any specialty. With the elderly, my impression is most of them understand that the aging process brings with it a lot of aches and pains and serious problems, as well. So while I wouldn't want to see anyone suffer, it's just very different with someone who's say...70 or 80...than seven or eight."

"No, I understand," Kimber told him. "I've never had a child, but I can only imagine how awful it would be to see them hurting and not be able to make it better."

"I'm probably way out of bounds here, but I know you said you were married. Was having a child something you wanted?" James asked with great care.

"I don't mind being asked, James. I enjoy talking with you. You're very easy to get along with, and after years of working with pilots hitting on me—many of them married—I guess I've become a little bit jaded about men."

Kimber smiled then said, "My late husband and present company excluded."

James smiled back, and Kimber realized she hadn't answered his question.

"I'd say it's more a matter of timing. I didn't get married until I was 35, and when my husband passed away, I was 40, and while we both wanted a child, we just kept putting it off until it was too late. Now, at 43, I've stopped thinking about it, and although I'd love to meet someone special again, I'm not sure that's in the cards for me, either."

Kimber had a sad look in her eyes as she spoke then shook it off, smiled and asked James, "What about you?"

"Yes. Definitely. I know that at 26 there's no need to hurry, but someday, yes, I'd very much like to have children."

He smiled then said, "At least one."

"You obviously know you're a very handsome young man, James, so you won't have any problem finding a woman and later having children. And unlike me, you do have plenty of time."

Kimber hesitated then said, "Now I'm the one who's out of bounds, but is there or was there anyone special in your life?"

"You're not out of bounds," James told her. "I like sharing things with you, too."

Kimber smiled and James continued.

"No, not really. I thought I was in love back in high school, but by the time I started my freshman year of college, I realized it wasn't the kind of love needed to sustain a marriage. I was more of an infatuation based on..."

"Raging hormones?" Kimber offered with a quiet laugh.

"Thank you. Yes," James said with a smile. "Other than that, no, there hasn't been anyone."

They chatted about Kimber's job for a few minutes then discussed medical school and what was involved followed by an explanation of residency, internship, and private practice.

It was close to four o'clock when Kimber said, "I should probably be going. I've taken up a lot of your time already."

James was taken by surprise, but realized she probably didn't care to spend any more time with him, so he used her words with a different take.

"Oh, sure. I'm guessing hanging around with a guy my age isn't exactly your idea of a good time."

He smiled and even laughed as he said it, and that surprised Kimber.

"What? No. Not at all. I was giving you an out to break free from the older woman monopolizing your time," she explained.

"But I'm enjoying having my time monopolized," James told her.

"Honestly? I'm really enjoying spending time with you, too," Kimber told him.

"Would you maybe like to have dinner together?" James offered.

Kimber looked at him as though she was trying to read his mind, and satisfied with whatever she saw or felt said, "I'd love to. As long as you let me pay."

"I'm not sure I could let you do that," he told her. "I know it's 2018 and I'm all for equal rights and equal pay, but I can't imagine letting a woman pay for my meal."

Kimber didn't come back with a feminist retort. She just smiled then said, "How about we go dutch then?"

"I suppose I could live that," James told her. "As long as this isn't a date, I guess I'll be okay letting you buy your own food."

Kimber laughed in a polite way then said, "It's definitely not a date."

James feigned being hurt and said, "Ouch!" as he clutched his 'heart'.

Kimber laughed again then said, "Okay. Let me put it this way. I never date pilots, aircrew, or passengers. Is that any better?"

James winced then told her, "A little. Maybe."

"You make me laugh," Kimber told him after laughing yet again.

"I'm glad. You have the most beautiful smile, and I love seeing it," he told her with a smile of his own.

Kimber stopped smiling, and James assumed it was because he'd just crossed a line. What he didn't know, and what Kimber didn't understand, was that what he'd just said had somehow touched her. It wasn't that she still didn't regularly receive compliments from men. She did. In fact, it happened quite often. But what didn't happen was when one of those compliments made her feel like this. It was an old familiar feeling, but one she hadn't experienced in a very long time.

Worried he'd offended her, James began apologizing.

"Kimber, I wasn't trying to be flirty or anything. I was only be honest. Sometimes I say things that..."

"It was very sweet of you to say, James. Thank you. It made me...happy," she told him before again suggesting it might be time to go.

Now it was James who was feeling something. He'd only been rebuffed a handful of times, and could literally count them on one hand. And while he hadn't just been rebuffed, something he was expecting to happen, her kind reply made him look at her differently. He wasn't sure what kind of 'differently' it was, but the way he saw her after that was definitely...different.

She'd slipped her coat off and it was resting on the chair behind her, so when they stood up James came around and helped her with it. Kimber put her arms in then raised her long, silky hair so he could pull it around her. She thanked him, and there it was again. That new feeling. It wasn't even strong let alone overpowering, but it was definitely there, and Kimber was enjoying it whatever it might be.

It was already getting dark, and the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees since they went inside.

"Burr!" she said when the cold air hit them.

"I'll wave down a taxi if you'll let him know where to take us," James said.

"Deal," Kimber told him.

Once inside, she said, "I just realized it's not quite two o'clock Seattle time. This would be more lunch than dinner."