Last Flight

Contest entry, photo was the prompt.

Prompt = photo
Word count = 1953
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Photograph by Darli Donizete, courtesy of Pexels.com

Last Flight

"McCall traffic, Cessna 123Sierra, taxiing into position and departing Runway 21, departing to the northeast toward the Frank Church Wilderness. McCall traffic."

Cindy sounds great, purring like a kitten. All gauges look good, pressures are fine, temperatures are where they should be. Time to get this show on the road. Throttle pushed fully forward.

"McCall traffic, Cessna 123Sierra is clear of the area to the northeast, climbing to eleven-five, last transmission."

So, you’re really going to do this?

Bob snapped his head around to look at the plain black urn strapped into the passenger seat.
“You’re here?”

Where else would I be?

“It’s been four months. Nothing in four months. I couldn’t write because you weren’t here. Nothing in four months.”

Four months, 12 days, and what, 8 hours? But who’s counting?

“Sure, get smart. Why did you have to die?”

I can assure you that it was not my idea. If it had to happen, I’m glad it happened the way it did. One moment I was here, the next I wasn’t.

“They said it was cerebral thrombosis, a blood-clot in the brain. You were perfectly healthy and then you were gone.”

Not sure about perfectly healthy. We knew about the high blood pressure…

“We had that under control, didn’t we?”

I guess not. I knew about the numbness in my hand. I told Dr. Carlson about that. He wasn’t alarmed, just moved my appointment up. Like I said, if I had to go, that was the way to go.

“For you, maybe. Not so for me. I expected you to wake up and reach for your morning coffee. Then you didn’t. You looked so alive.”

So, is this your answer? Flying into the side of a mountain? What about poor Cindy?

“I have no life without you.”

You sure of that?

“Yes, I’m sure of that. You were my life.”

As you were mine. We had a good life, didn’t we?

“A very good life. Yes, a very good life. Now, I have nothing.”

You sure?

“Of course I’m sure.”

What are we doing?

“Doing?”

Right now, what are we doing?

Bob shrugged. “Talking. Talking, like we always did.”

But I’m dead. How can we be talking?

“I can hear you plain as day. It’s as though you were right next to me talking into your headset.”

And yet, I’m not right next to you. How can this be?

Bob looked around. “Why now? Why here?”

Why do you think?

“How the hell should I know?”

Think it might be a good time to find out before you fly Cindy into the side of a mountain?

“Am I chickening out?”

Or coming to your senses. You know, I never really left you. I’ve been a part of you since our time in college. Been with you through the lean times in New York and now the fat times. Your books are selling well. My songs are getting played. We had, have a good life.

“Have?”

Sure, why not have. I’m here, or my memory is here. You know what I would say. So, I’m saying it. Just as I was there when you were writing your books. My voice was there in your characters. My presence was there, sitting on your shoulders. I was, I am your muse.

“So, where have you been?”

Want a guess?

Bob laughed. “Sure, guess.”

I wish I understood grief. We’ve both been spared a lot of pain. We’ve known a little, but not much. More disappointment than real grief, real loss.

“So?”

So, we didn’t know how to handle it when it came our way.

“We?”

Sure, we. We’re in this together, just as we have always been. You’re there and I’m right there with you. Remember the socks?

Bob laughs. “Yes, those damned socks. It’s how we met. The Wasatch Mountain Club up Big Cottonwood Canyon. Our junior year.”

You and your damned argyle socks. Who knows argyle socks?

“You do. I get a new pair every year.”

Yep, every June 29^th. You know, I cheat, don’t you?

“You mean recycling the socks? Yes, I knew.”

Hey, it’s not my fault they only make so many styles. You never said anything.

“Of course not. What am I going to say?”

Remember the song?

“There were several songs.”

But our song?

“Of course, Anne Murray and ‘Can I Have This Dance…”

For the rest of my life.

“Yes, for the rest of my life.”

Can you hear it?

Bob closed his eyes and nodded. “I can hear it.”

Good, because it’s part of the package.

“Package?”

Will you let me back into your life?

“How?”

Just what you’re doing now – remembering. We have a lifetime of memories. This is a memory. Well, it will be if you don’t run into that mountain. Cindy is working as hard as she can, but the altitude and temperature are working against her. She’s not being difficult, but she doesn’t want to die either.

“Should I turn around?”

We both want you to. What do you want to do?

“Not sure. Will you always be with me?”

Only you can answer that. We’ve been there for each other for more than forty years. Think you can stand me for a few more?

“I’m not sure how this works. I know you’re not here, but you’re as real as if you are.”

One of the perks of an imagination. We both have it, but it is your imagination which is the most important. I think you need to decide in the next few moments. Cindy and I are getting nervous.

“Hang on, coming about.”

Silly sailor. Turning would have worked just as well.

“Not to be maudlin, but what should I do with you?”

Oh, my ashes?

“Yes.”

I kinda liked the idea of being with you and Cindy at the base of Buffalo Hump. Good memories those. Was Shepp Ranch your idea or mine?

“Yours. Five days in the wilderness for a honeymoon was not my idea of heaven.”

Sorry?

“No, but that shower at Shepp’s Ranch when we hiked back was the best shower ever. We used up all their hot water.”

We’ve been lucky. Met and known a lot of good people. Been to a lot of places, had some great meals, and had some good times. Be a shame to lose all that.

“Is that my muse poking me in my ribs?”

It could be if you’re thinking what I’m thinking.

“Just what are you thinking?”

I’m thinking with what we know and what we can dream up, we could write a great little story, maybe many little stories. A novel or two?

“And make us the main characters?”

Or people like us. Make them younger, of course. Like we were when we started out.

“The world has changed a lot in the 40 or 50 years since we started out.”

Yes, but have the people? Don’t people still fall in love? Don’t people still have adventures? Aren’t we on an adventure right now?

“One which no one will believe.”

It’s not important what they believe, only what we believe. Do you believe it?

“I turned around, didn’t I?”

How do you feel about gardening?

“About as much as you felt about sailing.”

I liked sailing.

“Sure you did.”

I went with you, didn’t I?

“And I weeded and hoed, didn’t I?"

I thought you were having fun.

“I was with you, wasn’t I?”

That’s how I felt about sailing. I much prefer solid ground, but I was with you.”

“So, what about gardening?”

I want to be part of my garden, our garden. Not the vegetables, that’s too morbid, but the flowers. Think you could handle that?

“Anything special I need to do?”

“No, but we may need to make sure the chemistry is right. I know you won’t believe this, but as I am, I am too basic for my flowers…

“Basic?”

Non-acidic, alkali. I need to be neutralized.

Bob laughed. “Neutralized?”

Don’t laugh. No gallows humor, please. Just make me acceptable to my plants. I want our home festooned with flowers, with life. I want to come back into your life in a real way. I want to bring you happiness, joy.

“What are you going to be doing while I slave away at the computer and ‘our’ garden?”

What do you want me to do?

“Never leave me.”

I’ll do my part if you do yours. As long as you think of me, I’ll be there.

“I thought I was thinking of you. Not the best of thoughts, maybe, but I thought I was thinking of you.”

So why now?

“Yes, so why now?”

Not sure I have an answer, or if there is an answer. I left you because you needed to work some things out. Suicide was not the answer, you know that, right?

“I know it now. I have a garden to weed and a book or two to write. I didn’t know it when I didn’t.”

Maybe that’s it.

“What, having a purpose?”

I’m sure that’s part of it, but I think memories are another part of it, too. I think it is important to have something to live for and a life to have lived. Yes, memories and purpose.

“So, why now?”

You had to learn something about yourself. Why you’re alive and what it means to be alive. I think as soon as Cindy lifted off, left the ground, you knew you had made a mistake. As soon as you knew that you knew I had to be a part of your life. I’ve always been a part of your life.

“But what about you? Am I still part of your life?”

I think we will find out. I hope so. I want us to be together for as long as together lasts. We both don’t believe in an afterlife, but we do believe in soulmates. We have been soulmates. We are soulmates. My soul is in you. It is in our memories; in the life we shared. Let Cindy down easy. She had a tough time getting over those mountains. Probably wouldn’t hurt to extra nice to her. By the way, I’m looking forward to getting out on the lake. Think you could do something about that?

“Is this my wishful thinking?”

It could be, but I am really looking forward to hearing you shout, ‘Heads up, coming about’.

Bob laughed. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Coming about. Going down the wrong path then, coming about.”

It’s more than that, but it’ll do for now. We’ve got a lot to figure out. And my garden needs some attention. It has been sorely neglected.

“First thing when we get back. We’ll stop by Alpha Nursery and get what we need.”

Make it Franz Witte and ask for Sam. He’s a good friend.

“Will do. What do you want for dinner?”

Making enough for two?

“No, but enough to share. It’s going to be a nice night. Still a little chilly, but a sweater or jacket can take care of that. I want to sit out on the patio with you and work on our book. Tomorrow, we’ll work in the garden. Maybe split up our day. Early morning, while it’s cool, we write. Midday to evening, it’s in the garden. Then back to the computer until it’s time for bed. How does that sound to you?”

Sounds good. Do you remember our first meal together?

Bob laughs. “Right, my world-famous Spanish chicken.”

Right, world-famous.
“Hey, my world was much smaller then.”

And now?

“And now?”