Last Day Andrew woke slowly with the sense that something wasn’t right. He lay next to Anne, her arm gently lying atop his back; he turned his head slightly to look at the clock and moaned. That was the problem. He sighed. He would have to get out of bed and call John and then go take the strong prescription sinus medicine. These seemed to come out of nowhere. He lay still for a moment, not wanting to experience the wave of pain that would assault his face. This headache always woke him suddenly and it was all he could do to get the medicine and take it. The trek from here to the medicine cabinet promised to be a long one, winding through seemingly endless space, a disorienting walk dominated by the piercing, sweeping agony of a head that refused to drain properly. He sighed and turned and saw Anne’s eyes open. He lay still for a minute gathering strength to push his unwilling body to the unwanted yet desperately required task. His soft cry brought his wife to him. “Andrew?” she said, sitting up a little. She hadn’t been asleep; she had lain awake for an hour enveloped in the quiet, feeling the calm sleeping form of her husband while her own mind had raced frantically. Her hand gently lying on his back had been placed there to remind her that they were in this whole stressing business together. Now his sudden movement and vague discomfort made her turn to him, almost grateful to be distracted from her own anxiety. “Andrew, what is it?” She turned to him and knew from his eyes, dull in the weak light of morning, wherein lay the trouble. “Stay here I’ll get your medicine. Poor Andrew.” Today would be Anne’s last day of ninth grade English at the Brown Middle School. Bills were piling up, Andrew needed surgery for his sinuses, flights were stable but slow at this point. The ABC Charter Company was tightening it’s belt, almost hibernating to get itself through financial hardship. Andrew wasn’t in danger of losing his job; John had promised that he would not let him go. Andrew’s situation didn’t worry her at 5:00 in the morning with the house quiet and a presunrise chill in the air. What worried Anne was her last day of teaching. But she pushed those thoughts aside now and tucked the covers in around him almost with extra care and then stroked his head on the pillow. Outside a thick marine layer already lay across the sky, thick as pea soup and wet and drizzly; it would clear out about noon; just about the time that Andrew would probably feel like contemplating the world and the time that Anne would be doing her last lunch duty. Luckily they had put aside money for the surgery but it would be a hard month especially if Andrew missed work for the next two days. No matter. They would manage. If it had been anyone else she thought it would have driven her crazy; but Andrew the hard-working man who had saved up for this house and had lived here this long, fifteen years with a wife certainly was entitled to gentle hands and an open heart; and a lot of love. She could give it to him. She came back and touched his cheek. He moaned; touching his face was painful. “Honey,” she said gently touching his lips with the cup, “here.” He lifted his head slightly; let her hold it, he reached out a hand from somewhere inside a sheet and gratefully swallowed the two pills the 1000 milligrams of sinus medication. She eased his head back on the pillow and gently stroked his warm hair. “Call John,” he said weakly. “I can’t.” “Sure I will, honey.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. His skin was cool; there was no fever; only the relentless pain soon to be eased. She stood and watched him retreat into the pillow, wishing in some way it was her. She would have to fight her own battle of emotions today. And she would win them. “Oh no,” said John Foster, clenching his hands, “oh of all days!” “I know. Are you flying the Andersons today?” “God, yes. Damn why does Andrew have to do this?” Anne knew from long experience that John’s words weren’t angry; somehow they would find someone. It was 5:30; Andrew was sleeping; or trying to sleep. Anne went through the house on her cordless phone the coffee was percolating and she put together her lunch. “I’m sorry,” said the flustered owner, “I know it can’t be helped. It’s just we’re short on pilots today. I might just have to take this one.” Anne knew, making her peanut butter sandwich that flying the Andersons wasn’t on John’s list of preferred chores. “You know if I could I would,” she said trying to ease his discomfort level. “Is there something I can do?” “Can you miraculously cure that man?” he was almost teasing, “no Anne I’ll handle it; thanks, though. I’ve got a plan B and C in place but this is definitely an Andrew flight. He doesn’t mind taking these people. I think he just goes into detach mode; becomes that single-minded individual that ignores everything and concentrates on the attitude indicator and airspeed. I think your husband when he flies these passengers takes the time to rediscover flight.” The Andersons had been flying with the ABC Charter Company off and on for ten years. They apparently had frequent business in Arizona, and Anne suspected that John would know more about that. Andrew had told her things about them; about how they sometimes arrived with too much luggage. Somehow when Andrew told them they would have to lighten their load they did it. “I don’t know how on God’s green earth you get them to do that,” John told his pilot once, “they usually end up leaving one or two bags at the airport.” “It’s because I won’t take them,” Andrew announced matter-of-factly. “I just tell them we’re not leaving. They’ll be back tonight.” “You’re a charts and graphs man,” John teased his senior pilot. “You add up all the numbers and give them the bottom line. It’s bags or fuel and they probably prefer the fuel!” “No.” Andrew would smile a little. “No I just remind them that if that plane is overloaded they have two choices; rent a more expensive plane or leave the bags! Of course they could go find a major airline! Usually since they’re in a hurry to get there they leave the bags.” “Andrew is a no nonsense guy,” John now said to his wife. “He doesn’t care much about people’s egos. He knows it’s his life on the line, too.” And mine, she thought, wondering if the medicine had kicked in to ease his headache. “Well, make sure he gets back here, soon. For me flying the Andersons is a hard way to build multiengine time!” Anne turned from the closet having completed the task of dressing. She looked at herself in the mirror; the blue and white pantsuit sparkle, making her chestnut hair stand out. The hair braided and simple today made her face seem a bit severe, but she didn’t want to primp and preen today; not today. This was her last day of work for this school and she would have to say goodbye to too many people which would probably require that she touch up her mascara, so why bother in the first place! She wasn’t quite sure she would be working in the fall, though she would do the substitute teacher role as long as she could, though she figured with the shortage of teachers at other schools in the area it probably wouldn’t be long before she found work. But today was today and thank God it was only a half day! She would be home by 4:00 since her classroom was cleaned out and all she had to do was pick up her things after class and take them with her. She walked by the bed, seeing Andrew’s head still reposed. She came over to him and touched his hand. He opened his eyes, interrupting the agony that slowly subsided. “I’m leaving,” she said quietly to him. “I’ll be back early today.” Suddenly she had to blink back tears; and she was surprised at how painful this actually might be. “Maybe,” she said when she could speak again, “maybe we could go out to eat tonight if you’re up for it.” “We can’t afford that, honey,” he said, easing his hand under his head and turning to face her. “I know,” she confirmed, “but today is. is and well I don’t want to cook. Unless you want to?” “Today is?” Andrew’s eyes widened a bit, in the haze of pain and the lethargy that now accompanied his induced sinus drainage it had slipped his mind that today was her last day of work. He sat up slowly, pulled the covers away and extended his arms to her. She hugged him. “I’m sorry, I forgot,” he admitted. “Of course we can go eat. We’ll just cut somewhere. I’ll wait for you. I’ll be okay just give me a few hours.” “We’re going to get you in to that doctor, soon,” she said holding him, “my poor baby. We’re going to get that done and I’m going to find another job.” She kissed him gently; he did not push her away from him. He wanted to rest his head on her shoulder. She stroked it gently. “John is going to miss you,” she said easing a hand through his warm, tangled hair. “Do you know the Andersons are coming in?” “Honey,” Andrew said with an amazing amount of patience, despite the clamping pain and his discomfort, “John is always frantic. Even when everything is fine he’s frantic.” She told him about the conversation. “He has plenty of multiengine time; I bet he’s just shorthanded. Well,” he said, suddenly wanting to lie down and return his protesting head to it’s quiescent state, “he’ll be fine.” He readjusted his position, lay back. The medicine was helping and now he just wanted to sleep. She tucked the covers back around him. “Sleep my darling,” she said easily. “When I get back we’ll have a whole different life.” “Don’t worry little queen,” he said, drifting, “we’ll think of something!” When Anne had been called into the office and told she would not be returning the next year, she had been stunned. The last time she had changed jobs was when she had moved from her own small house to marry Andrew. It wouldn’t matter how organized she was or how hard she worked to get another job, there would still be a sense of let-down, especially after working so long for the school district. In her hand today as she drove to school she had the promise of work in another place, a few contacts to make, but she knew that with school budgets tightening, even with a shortage of teachers, someone had to go; unfortunately it was going to be she who was out in the cold. She wasn’t out in the cold, they had a bit of a cushion, and she had her name into the substitute system, but still, the certainty of getting up each morning with a job would be replaced by an uncertainty that she had never liked. It would be that uncertainty that would drive her to keep looking for work. Now she got out of her car at the school and noted the milling crowd, the stylish clothes, the baggy clothes, the book bags. The slam of lockers met her; today it was a welcome sound. Kids waved to her; called her name. Somehow she got through the first four periods and to her lunch break. Perhaps to avoid the teachers in the lunch room and the conference period that was hers afterward she escaped into an empty classroom and called Andrew. It was noon; his sleepy voice said yes he had found the tablets she left for him; yes he was starting to feel better he would probably make it out in the afternoon to at least look at the roses and where did she want to go eat? “I don’t’ know,” she said tears I her voice again. “I’ll think of something.” “Annie.” Is voice was low, gentle, tinged with sleep and something else; something Anne had recognized throughout their entire marriage: kindness. “Did you say goodbye yet?” he asked her. “No. Haven’t brought myself to it quite yet. I will.” “Sure you will,” said the pilot reassuringly. “John called.” “Oh?” Andrew thought he would try and distract his wife. “Wanted to know if I was feeling better; also told me that maybe God had been good to him after all because the Andersons called in the morning and canceled their flight.” “What?” “I know,” said the man who had flown everything fro C172 to the new Diamond and Cirrus aircraft with a healthy smattering of Citations in between. “Can you imagine that?” “They couldn’t decide what to leave at the airport,” she said. Andrew grew quiet; a sign that he had not understood her reference. “Oh honey,” she said patiently, “you know. They bring too much luggage, sometimes. Maybe today they couldn’t decide what to leave behind.” “Oh.” Now she heard Andrew laugh and she suspected it had been the first time he had laughed all morning. Sometimes it took him a while to understand humor; but he was a gentle enough man; his students liked him; she liked him; she didn’t mind explaining the occasional one liner to him. “I’m going to go now, Annie,” he said almost apologetically. “This headache is subsiding enough to where I think I can go get online. I need to check a few things. John said don’t come in till Friday; that’s the day after tomorrow so I probably should go rearrange some schedules.” “I’m glad you’re better, Andrew.” Suddenly, Anne couldn’t explain what happened, but she suddenly felt better; she was suddenly looking forward to seeing Andrew. All would be well. If she had known that in her head in the morning, she now knew it in her heart.
Copyright © 2004 Shelley J Alongi |