Walk On Faith

There’s not much to distract me on the road, which is good because I’ve got a lot to think about. Not for the first time, I’m glad I got the Colorado Springs posting that keeps me within driving distance of home. After being thousands of miles from home, I can jump in my old car and be in Lubbock within a few hours. And I’m not a bit ashamed to admit I get a sizable lump in my throat when I cross the Texas border.

Just being a lowly lieutenant saved me in this week’s uproar at the base; all the higher ups are getting skinned for losing custody of the….aliens, or whatever the hell they were. Thornbird’s aide Lennie says some bigwigs are on the way from the Pentagon to kick some ass.

So the major had us give our statements and then we were all given leave. An unexpected week of leave; you know I’m heading home. Talk on the base is that Thornbird‘s prepared to take the fall for this one. Have to admire his courage; I just hope if I ever make it to command, that I’ll be able to do the same thing.

I only stop for gas and Cokes. I know there’s a home-cooked meal at the end of this road.

Without thought, I stop and check the mailbox as I turn off the paved road. I think about the day Daddy drove me to the station, how I couldn’t wait to get out of Lubbock and now I can’t wait to get back.

I’m gonna help Daddy around the farm this week, get some work done that he’s not able to do since he’s been sick. After Mama called, Major Thornbird made sure I got to the hospital. I was shocked to see my big, strong Daddy lying in a hospital bed. He tried to tell me it wasn’t serious but I knew as soon as I saw Mama’s face that it was bad.

Mama’s standing on the front porch when I climb out of the car. Because I know what she’ll say, I swing her up in my arms and around and around.

“George! For heaven’s sake, put me down.” She chides me softly, all the while holding on as tight as she can. I set her gently on the floor, wondering when she shrank. The woman I thought was so tall now fits rather neatly under my chin. She strokes my military haircut. “My baby. You look thin, have you lost weight? Are you hungry? You come on in the house, I’ll have supper on the table in no time. Your daddy’s out back, go tell him to get washed up.”

I go through the house and find Daddy sitting in the porch swing, something I’m not used to seeing him do when there’s still daylight. But he’s not able to work the farm after his heart attack, so Mr. Harley, our neighbor, is helping out.

“Daddy.” I know better than to offer him a hand up so I wait until he stands before I hug him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, boy. Your mama just likes to worry, that’s all. I’ll be back working the farm in no time.”

“I know you will, Daddy. Mama says to come in and wash up.”

“She’s been cookin’ all day, son, I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starved, Daddy.” I hold the screen door for him. We both stop in the kitchen and wash before making our way into the dining room where the table is already loaded with food. “Mama, what can I help you with?” The dining room is cooled by the screens in the windows and the breeze coming through the house. I can see corn wafting out in the field and the sun sliding toward the horizon.

“Sit down, the both of you. I’ll let you know when I need your help.”

Daddy leans toward me. “Probably about time for the dishes to be done.” He winks broadly as he unfolds his napkin.

“Okay,” Mama carries in a platter of fried chicken. “Did you two wash up?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answer for both of us.

“George, if you’d say grace, please.” I fold my hands and ask the blessing.

“I’m glad you haven’t forgotten your manners since you’ve been in all those God-forsaken countries.” Mama hands Daddy the platter of chicken.

“No, ma’am. We say grace nearly every meal. You have to, considering some of the meals we have to eat.” I take two pieces of golden, crispy chicken to join the mashed potatoes, gravy, corn on the cob, sliced tomatoes and hot biscuits on my plate. “How many people were you expecting for supper?” I ask, eyeing the still full platter.

“Now, George, you know it’s no extra effort to cook a little more. Old Mrs. Henderson’s been feeling poorly, so after supper, I’m taking her a basket of food over so she won’t have to cook. And left over chicken will make a fine lunch tomorrow.”

Mama took Daddy’s farm truck over to Mrs. Henderson’s so Daddy and I are taking advantage of the evening breeze on the back porch. My mother is one of the few farm wives that can drive; Daddy said she made him teach her after they first married so she could drive herself anywhere she wanted to go.

I remember Daddy laughing about her getting his farm truck stuck in a field and refusing all help, rocking it back and forth until she got it unstuck. Theresa Mae Birdwell Hammond, Daddy is fond of saying, is one of the most stubborn creatures God saw fit to put upon His Earth.

“So, son,” Daddy sets the swing in motion with his foot. “You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

I fight the urge to squirm in the rocking chair; Daddy’s always been very perceptive. “It’s just…something happened on the base this week. I can’t really talk about...”

Daddy frowns at me. “George, I would never ask you to break your oath to the Air Force. You tell me what you can and I’ll give you what help I can.”

I think for a minute then start. “I…some things happened that I don’t know how to explain. I mean, logically, they can’t have happened. There were…people there who shouldn’t have been there.” None of them were actually wearing the uniform, but there was enough similarity in their clothes and military issue to make me want to believe they were telling the truth. Although I’m having a hard time picturing most of them in a military unit. I mean, there was a woman, a Negro and a hippie; the O’Neill guy I can believe, but the rest of them stretch my imagination.

Daddy chuckles unexpectedly. “You always were one who wouldn’t take anything on faith.”

“And you always had enough faith for all of us.”

“I’ve found faith is pretty high up on the list of requirements for a farmer. You have to learn to walk on faith or you’ll never succeed. That might be a pretty useful piece of advice in life, too. The question is, can you take what happened on faith? Believe that it happened for a reason, something you might not understand now, but later…?”

If the strangers were to be believed, I will be instrumental in all of their futures. “I don’t know.”

“Is fretting about it liable to change anything?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Fretting about it isn’t going to change anything.”

“So don’t. Don’t waste time on things you can’t change. Much better to change what you can. How’s that for a piece of advice?”

I answer his smile with one of my own. “That’s an excellent piece of advice. Thank you, Daddy.”

“Good! Then let’s go cut us a piece of that pie before your mother gets home. If you saw the diet she’s got me on. It’s enough to make a grown man cry, I tell you, son.”