Read Online Hover by Anne A. Wilson - Free Book Online Page B

on numerous occasions when we’ve broken down without the resources we’d normally need to get ourselves flying again.
    Their southern ingenuity is legend. Just like they can open the hood of any car, take the engine apart, and put it back together, so can they dissect the innards of an H-46 helicopter. Sometimes, I don’t want to know how they fix things. They’ve pulled out the duct tape or its equivalent too many times to count, and yet somehow, always find a way to get us home.
    Add their skills as aircrewmen to their maintenance prowess, and they are, simply put, the all-around best aircrew team I’ve ever flown with.
    They look to me now, expressions of relief on their faces, as Commander Claggett finally takes his leave to update Captain Plank.
    â€œHow are you guys holding up?” I ask, jumping down from my seat.
    â€œDecent, ma’am,” Messy answers. “Although Kyle’s not too happy.”
    â€œWhy’s that, Lego?” I ask.
    â€œBecause my wife sent a care package and it’s sittin’ on my rack on the Kansas City . Never got a chance to open it since we had to leave so fast.”
    â€œOh, man,” I say.
    â€œYeah, Michelle said in her last e-mail that the kids were sending along some art projects.”
    â€œMore art projects?” Messy asks. “Dude, there’s no more wall space.” Messy looks to me. “He’s got more damn art projects plastered over the walls in our berthing. I don’t know how he passes inspection.”
    â€œRemind me not to share any of my homemade cookies with you,” Lego says.
    â€œAh, dude, them’s fightin’ words. You know I’m only jokin’.”
    â€œBesides, you’ll understand soon enough,” Lego says.
    â€œWhat’s this?” I ask.
    â€œYou haven’t told her?” Lego says.
    â€œHaven’t had a chance,” Messy says, turning to me. “When we were in Pearl Harbor, I found out that Leah’s pregnant.”
    â€œCongratulations!” I say. “Messy, that’s great news. I’m so happy for you.”
    â€œThanks, ma’am,” Messy says. “She’s due the week we’re scheduled to get back.”
    â€œSounds like a perfect homecoming to me,” I say.
    â€œYeah,” he says, sweetly.
    â€œAll right,” I say. “I’ve bothered you two enough. I’ll get out of your way.”
    I return to the work stand, but as I move to sit, I hear a now-familiar voice.
    â€œHi,” Eric says, walking delicately through the maze of aircraft parts that litter his path.
    Funny. The current thing. It just happened again.
    â€œI wanted to check on your involvement in the maintenance effort,” he says. “I can see you’re adequately involved, Lieutenant, however, it’s still inadequate.”
    A smile escapes.
    â€œI’d say we need some more aggressiveness here. You know, grab a wrench. Go after it.”
    â€œThanks a lot,” I say, grimacing. “So what’s up?”
    â€œI came by to get you for training.”
    â€œIs it eleven hundred already?”
    â€œYeah, I know. Time flies when you’re watching a transmission change.”
    I’m smiling again. What the heck?
    â€œGuys,” I say to Lego and Messy. “I’ll be back in about an hour or so.”
    â€œOkay, ma’am,” Lego says.
    Balance is a challenge as I attempt to weave my way as Eric did through the assorted helicopter parts on the flight deck—tied down or stored in secured containers to keep them from rolling. Although, based on what I’ve seen both yesterday and this morning, I think balance has been difficult for everyone. Members of ship’s company notoriously razz the air detachment for not having their “sea legs.” But even for these salty sailors, no matter how long they’ve been at sea, if the waves are big enough, they’re going to find