Mile High

Mile High Part 12

"Chris? I'm sorry." Kelvin uncomfortably shifted on the balls of his feet as his love crutched around the blackened, smoldering remains of the Beast. Both were unsuccessfully trying to stay out of the Fire Marshal's way as he photographed the wreckage in the dim light of another dawn.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Chris stepped back to allow the man to examine the partial remains of a swastika that had been sprayed and disappeared into the burn. "You didn't do this."

Chris angrily shed his crutches, turned his back to the wreck, and silently limped away, fuck the doctor', from the only possession he'd received from his mom he could call his own. She'd given it to him when he started his first auto-shop class as a freshman and he'd restored it from the axles up. Then she ran afoul of the law and the State took everything else they'd ever had together. It was just a stupid old car,' he thought, trying to convince himself and failing miserably.

"But this all happened because of me!" Kel fought back the lump in his throat. Chris had paid more than he ever dreamed possible, had been shot, and almost been killed! That he was next on the `hit list' didn't assuage the guilt he felt over his friend's loss. "I don't know...I...It's...."

"Kelvin! Shut up!" Chris spun back, almost falling as his knee sent its warning. "None of this is your or my fault! What? You want me to say I don't love you any more?" He finally collapsed onto the porch, burying his head. "I can't change what's happened or how I feel about you even if I wanted to. I'd sooner let another sniper finish me off!"

"Chris!" Kel grabbed him tightly and hung on as his love let his tears flow. "Don't ever say that! I couldn't fa...." he felt his throat constrict as he tried to continue. "I'm sor...." He stopped at the sharp look he received. Chris obviously was tired of his apologies. "Oh, fuck it! I could never stop loving you either."

"OK,..." Chris wiped his eyes and smiled weakly, "...but don't be surprised if I put up a sign, 'Kel's house that way!'"

"Thanks a lot," Kel grimly smiled back. "I appreciate your wanting to share." He leaned in closer to block the world. "I hate to ask but...can I use the bathroom? I've got'a take a wicked dump and after dealing with you last night I don't think I can hold it much longer."

"Great." Chris responded sarcasticly as Kel successfully brought his thoughts to a different subject. He winced internally as he thought about how caring but clumsy they'd been. "All I need now is another nickname. So, instead of 'Tigger' I suppose you're gon'a call me 'Ex-Lax' now."

"Well, actually....," Kel paused, cautious about how to respond, then smiled that his devastated friend could still joke around a little, "...I was thinking of Roto-Rooter, but I won't do that to you, Sharon would never let me live it down." He came back to his immediate problem and the pressure he felt. "So, Tigger, can I?"

"Sure, Mile High." Chris couldn't help but use Kel's hated nickname. "You know where it is. You don't have to ask."

"Christopher?" Charles stepped away from the officer who'd been taking his statement and looked across the yard to watch the interplay between his gay son and friend. He had no idea what they were saying to each other, but saw the grim smiles they exchanged. He couldn't help but smile himself. He was never more proud of him than when he saw that his son still had a sense of humor. Charles squared his shoulders; it was like his own combat experiences as an eighteen year old. You could collapse totally or face it with humor. He still thought MASH was the most accurate war show ever done. He had no illusions, his son and his friend were at war. Not one where they could shoot back, but it was a war and his son had proved he was a survivor, was stronger than many.

"You know we only had liability on your car?" Charles settled next to his son and waited for the implications to sink in. No insurance. "I'm afraid it's totaled. Gone for good."

"Yes, sir." Chris glanced from the blackened hulk to his hands that had transformed it once before. The damage done was too great to fix it. He could see it without his dad's saying it.

"It's gon'a take a while before you'll be able to replace it. I wish I could help you more." Charles looked at his son.

"I know," Chris whispered back. "I can find a way to work. I wanted to ask about changing to full time. I was going to quit the track team anyway."

"No, you're not." Charles draped his arm over his son and pulled him closer. "You love running for the team; besides, you haven't even gone to the first meet yet." He felt his son shudder slightly. "That was your plan to be accepted by everybody, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but it's hopeless. We'll never be left alone," Chris responded, his bitterness reasserting itself.

"That's probably true," Charles sighed as he continued. "But you still do it because you love it and I don't want you to give it up unless you really want to." He hugged Chris tighter before going on with his idea. "I'll let you borrow that old '44 Willys I've been playing with in my spare time. It's running fine, I just have to get it registered." He saw his son's eyes widen. He'd been playing around with the old Jeep for years, intending to use it to get in the act at some of the airshows when they did reenactments. "I know green isn't your favorite color and it doesn't have air conditioning...."

"Air conditioning?" Chris smiled through his conflicting emotions. He'd been independent with the car because it was the only thing that was his. "Hell, it doesn't even have a canvas top yet." He couldn't believe his dad was willing to risk his other `pride and joy'. "No, I couldn't. What if som...."

"Christopher, just stop it!" Charles released his son to hold him by his shoulders. "I know you don't like charity, but I'm your dad, so this isn't charity. Besides, who do you think helped pay for your trips to the junk yards and parts shops. I expect you to keep it in top shape for me. No playing `Rat Patrol' out in the oil fields." He saw confusion in his son's features. "Never mind! It was an old TV show."

"But what if those guys burn it too?" Chris asked. "I don't think I could stand...you've worked too hard on it. It's your...."

"Look, Chris," Charles replied impatiently, "if it gets destroyed too, I'll just wait and get another project to work on. Maybe even that halftrack one of my contacts in Oklahoma will never finish. He owes me a few favors." He took a deep breath and caught his son's eyes. "As much as I'd like to hide you away from all the what-ifs out there, I wouldn't! I love you too much, so we'll face whatever happens together for as long as I'm here.... OK?"

"OK." Chris leaned over against his dad as they watched a wrecker slowly start to winch his car onto its dropped bed. Even the tires were gone. "Maybe we should look into that halftrack anyway. It's armored!" Chris smiled ruefully.

"Naw," Charles chuckled as they held each other, "I don't think we could afford the gas, the way you drive!" He looked over to see his son staring back, and smiled at him. "Of course, there are a few people I'd like to run over with one right now...."

"Ow! Fuck!" Kel yelled in frustration as the wrench slipped again and his knuckles scraped the tall pole they were removing from the old jeep. Charles had already removed the fake machine gun from its mount on top. "Why does this have to come off again?" he asked curtly as he stared at Chris's legs sticking out from under the vehicle.

He pulled his coat loose from the snag it had found again, almost tearing it, and cursed the shifter poking him between the legs. He should have listened closer to Charles' advice about how to approach the problem. That Chris seemed to have recovered from that morning amazed him. When he'd come out of the house, mission accomplished, the remains of the car were gone and Chris and his dad had disappeared for over an hour while he'd waited impatiently on the porch. When they'd both reappeared with red eyes, Kel kept his questions to himself and followed the two out to Charles' shop at the airport.

"My dad doesn't think it would go too well to park in the school lot with a machine gun mount," Chris yelled from under the Jeep. "Just hold what you've got and I'll turn from down here!"

Kel could hear the laughter in Chris's voice. He felt at home in the air doing things others couldn't, but here he felt like a complete goofball. Was it left to tighten? No, `lefty loosey', was that how that stupid rhyme went that Chris kept telling him?

"Wait a minute!" Kel saw the bolt head turning before he'd fitted the wrench back in place. "I need to get it back in the hole!"

"Well, put some hair around it!" Chris couldn't help himself as he pictured Kel wedged between the seats, fumbling around in unfamiliar territory. "Then maybe you can find it!"

"Fuck you, asshole!" Kel retorted, smiling, finally getting everything back in place. "I'm ready now, oh great and hairless wonder!"

"Watch it!" Chris yelled back. "I resemble that remark! There, that's one down!"

"Great!" Kel responded, then looked in confusion at the other three. "Argh, which one was the next one?"

"OK, boys, how's it going?" Charles stepped out of his office to check on their progress and smiled when confronted with the two pairs of dirty sneakers visible above and below the Jeep. "You need any help with that?"

"It's going!" Kel yelled back as Chris yelled, "No, we got it!"

"Kelvin?" Charles continued to smile at the two of them. Chris was actually a pretty talented mechanic if that's what he wanted to do. Kel was better off doing something else. "Your mother called to tell you to meet her at the hanger about one and to try to stay clean!" He chuckled to himself. There was little hope of that, even if he stayed where he was. "Don't worry, I told her to bring you a change of clothes."

"Thank you!" Kel yelled over his shoulder as they finished the last bolt holding the mount to the floor of the olive drab vehicle. "Fuck! Goddammitalltohell!" He suddenly cringed as the mount toppled silently across his back, his body absorbing the impact!

"You OK up there, flyboy?" Chris called out in concern mixed with some mirth.

"Flyboy?" Kelvin struggled briefly, then stopped. He didn't want to cause any more damage than he may have already. "I think this thing is going to your head! At least I have five more reasons why I need to stay out of the army!"

"Nine, actually." Charles stated calmly as he pulled the heavy mount off of his son's best friend. "Now you've got to put the bolts back in the holes."

"Great!" Kel growled. He felt his ears burning as both Bauchamps' chuckles filled the air around him. Finally, he couldn't help but giggle himself and thanked God that there weren't any video cameras around. It was bad enough that this would get back to their friends at school, without them actually seeing it! He couldn't wait till he got his license and Chris could fly with him. He'd get his revenge then. "I'm looking forward to it. It's what I live for!"

Kelvin nervously finished dressing in the clothes his mom had brought out to him. His mom was acting very strange. That and everything else that had happened that morning were unnerving him. He couldn't figure out what she was being so secretive about. For a moment he fought back the panic he felt when he thought of his father, but she wasn't acting like anything had happened to him. In fact, the only emotion she'd shown was when she saw Chris without his crutches. She had ripped him a new asshole for that, while Charles just looked on, smiling. Kel had just shrugged his shoulders and smiled when Chris had turned to him with pleading eyes before skulking off to retrieve them. Finally satisfied he looked OK - and didn't smell - he left to join the others.

"Ah, Kelvin. glad you could join us." His mom looked up from her newspaper she'd been sharing with an older gray-haired man Kel didn't recognize. "This is Mr. Terry Miller from the FAA."

Kel rocked back on his heels before he took the offered hand. The FAA! They had heard about his funeral tribute after all and were here for his pound of flesh in payment. He swallowed hard and visibly straightend. If he was well and truly fucked, it was still worth it!

"Relax, son," the old man drawled, his accent making every word at least two syllables, "I was there for that exhibition you put on, but I'm not here for that. As far as we're concerned, that never happened. OK?" He paused for a moment and was pleased to see the young man's defensive posture ease. Smiling, he continued, "Like your mom said, I'm from the FAA and I'm here to help you!" He couldn't help but chuckle as Kel recognised lie number one in the top three of the aviation world, according to the pilots. "No, actually I am here to help, I think. Where's your log book?"

"Yes, sir." Kel quickly retrieved his book where he'd recorded every hour he spent at the controls and handed it to the government official. "What is this about, then? I didn't do anything else wrong, did I?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong." Terry quickly examined the entries. Damn, the kid already had almost a thousand hours. "Except maybe letting your dad make you wait this long."

He closed the book and glanced from mother to son. "Hell, I was flying mail in Alaska with my dad when I was thirteen! Anyway, your father asked me to handle this myself. The first thing you're going to show me is how to plan a flight from here to Austin and back. I'll want you to file it and then cancel it. Then you and I will go flying." He smiled again as recognition suddenly filled the boy's face. "I signed your dad's ticket more years ago than I care to remember...I'll be honored to sign yours too after you show me that your father knows what the hell he's talking about."

Kel sat at the desk and reached for the charts and his E-2B flight computer (More like a slide rule on steroids) as his heart pounded. He'd been so comfortable with the idea of not having to face this final exam for almost a year. He shook himself to clear his mind for the tasks ahead, suddenly glad his father never let him use the GPS. He smiled grimly as he spread the chart out on the table. This was going to be an early form of IFR flying - `I Follow Roads!'

Kelvin guided the rented Cessna to its parking space and proceeded with his shutdown. He'd never sweated so much in his life and wasn't sure whether he was happier to pass or that the ordeal was over!

"Good job, son." Terry beamed at him. "That's a pretty shirt you've got on. It'll be a shame to ruin it but...." He shrugged his shoulders dramaticaly as his voice trailed off.

"I thought that was only..." Kel popped his door open after securing the controls, "...when I soloed." He saw his mom then, standing with her scissors behind where Chris stood, both with broad grins on their faces. A suspicion began to grow that his parents weren't the only ones who knew about the set-up. He let an evil smile cross his face. He and Chris would fly to see Mike and Mr. Goldman all right, they'd just do it upside down!

"Well, I have my own traditions," Mr. Miller started as they reached the others and he began cutting the back panel out of Kel's T-shirt. "Now remember. I want you to go forth and don't do nothin stupid!" He finished and pulled Kelvin's coat back down. "I'll go finish the paperwork and we're done. Oh, and I may be a couple of weeks early, but Merry Christmas."

"OK, how much did you know about this?" Kel whispered to Chris as they watched the man walk into the hanger. He was sure if he died right then, they'd never be able to get the smile off his face. "And how can you be so happy?" Kel regretted the last question when he saw the shadow cross Chris's eyes only to be instantly banished by his renewed grin.

"Well, first, I've known for a few days...," Chris said, watching for his love's reaction. The look of disbelief, that he'd been able to keep the secret, was worth it, "...and second, I'm happy because you're happy. I wouldn't have missed it!"

"You'd better make sure you get all the signatures you need." Kel's mom beamed at him. "Then, why don't you call your other friends and see if they can come over to the house? You need to make sure you call your dad tonight; otherwise, he won't get any sleep...."

The rest of his mom's instructions were lost on Kelvin as he drifted into the hanger after Mr. Miller. His head was back in the clouds. This time without an airplane!

"OK, we're all here." Steve walked over to their small group of friends gathered around the old but now immaculate Jeep, its dropped windshield partially covering the single white star on the hood. "What's going on? Who joined the army, all of a sudden?"

"Nobody joined anything, except maybe your grandfather's army, dipshit!" Sharon smiled at him. "This is Chris's new car...give or take a million miles."

"Cool! But what happened to...." Steve asked, puzzled.

"Someone burned it last night," Chris's strained voice broke through. He was tired of repeating it and needed to forestall another round of pity. "We're just trying to figure out who did it. Besides, not all our news is bad! He paused for effect while watching Kel blush furiously. "Kel's a real pilot now!"

"What was he before?" Steve asked, still trying to absorb the other news and steaming inside.

"No, I mean he got his license today," Chris continued as the others began their congratulations with various high fives and the usual good natured punches and shoving around. Chris hoped they'd tone it down before they put Kel back in the hospital for another beating, this one accidently from his friends. "Now he can take passengers along with him."

"So who you gon'a take up first?" Sharon fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. "Not that I'm making any suggestions..."

"I don't know." Kelvin winced as the last blow fell on his arm and the others backed away. "First, I've got to heal! But then I figured I'd take Steve up. I know how much he likes to fly."

"I don't think so." Steve, startled, quickly tried to melt to the back of their group. "Thanks but no thanks."

"Hey, you did all right in Mr. Goldman's small jet," Kel grinned back evilly. "I promise I'll take it nice and easy...."

"Yeah, right!" Steve retorted, not about to believe it for a second. "At least in the jet, I could tell up from down!"

"It won't be that bad," Kel continued to grin at him. "I'll ask my dad to order some vomit bags just for you, if that'll make you feel better!"

"Better make it a bucket!" someone else said in the group, to raucous laughter, while Steve continued to turn green at the thought of what he'd seen the little white biplane doing. He couldn't stand rollercoasters, there was no way he'd be caught dead in that little winged torture chamber.

"OK, let's go inside..." Steve looked up as Jenny, his long time girlfriend and future wife, seemed to come to his rescue, "...before my fiance pukes his guts out right here!" She looked on lovingly as Steve sputtered in surprise. "We still need to figure out what to do about the other...."

"I hope we can get those fuckers," Sharon whispered in Chris's ear as she hugged him goodnight. They'd all agreed to keep an ear out for any rumors or bragging they knew would happen around the school and then vowed to report what they heard, no matter what it cost!

"Thanks, Sharon," he whispered back. "I just hope everybody's careful." Chris had urged caution. As far as he knew, all the others were straight and he didn't want them to get hurt in what was his fight after all. Steve was the most vocal in his intense loyalty to his friends, it was almost frightening. But then Chris and Kel had some idea of what he'd been through himself over Mike's coming out, how much abuse he'd taken when the school heard his best friend was gay and he stayed his best friend.

Chris idly thought of Steve as the guy he'd vote most likly to fall on a grenade to save his friends as he listened to him speak. That Steve let it out that he'd joined the Coast Guard - he'd report at the end of August - surprised everyone but Chris. Chris knew Steve was just the right person to push himself to the limit for others, putting the `team' before his own safety!

"We will be. Don't worry about it." Sharon pulled away and turned to Kelvin. "And you. I'm gon'a hold you to that promise next week! No `funny' business up there!" She looked as he grinned back at her. "Damn it! I mean it! Otherwise I'll tell everybody why you're walking funny."

"I am not walking funny!" Kel looked over his shoulder, making sure his mom wasn't around.

"I know that," she laughed. "So how was it?"

"Great!" Kel stopped himself, glanced guiltily at Chris and felt the blood drain from his face as she continued to laugh.

"Don't worry, you two." She brought herself under control. "I won't ever tell anyone!" Having scored her points, she turned to leave. "Better go. Joel's waiting for me. You know? He's a lot like that beer - Less filling but tastes great." She continued giggling. She loved to shock, it was so much fun.

"I think that's more than we both wanted to know!" Kel retorted to her retreating figure. "I'm gon'a have nightmares tonight!"

"Yeah,..." her dim voice came back to them, "...like you're going to get any sleep!"

"So what do you want to try tonight?" Kel looked at his boyfriend lying back on top of his bed as he lounged beside him.

"Don't put it that way," Chris chuckled. "It makes it sound like homework for some elective we're taking." He started grinning, thinking of weird class titles. "Jeeze, I don't know, should I take basket weaving or butt fucking?"

"OK, asswipe!" Kel grinned evilly and grabbed the bulge in Chris's jeans hard. "Then what did you want to do?"

"Well!" Chris pitched his voice into a high falsetto, causing Kel to let go and roll into a fit of laughter. "We'll just have to play it by ear. You know, just see what comes up!"

"OK. Let's see what comes out." Kel raised himself onto his elbows. "I mean up!" He grinned back while he rose up and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it into the corner. "Hey, aren't you gon'a join me?"

"No." Chris rolled protectivly on his stomach and looked at Kel's laughter-invoked sheen of sweat, making his unspoken challenge.

"OK," Kel looked back in mock consternation, a wicked gleam shining in the lights, "but you'll have to tell me if I hurt your knee!" He pounced then and was shocked to find himself lifted as Chris rose under him and he rolled off the bed onto the carpet. He looked up into the grinning face of his boyfriend.

Kel found himself in a brief quandary over what to do next. He still had ahold of Chris's shirt and it had pulled up enough to trap one of his boyfriend's arms. If he let go now, Chris would just get ready to fend him off again. So he pulled hard and was rewarded when he pulled Chris onto the floor with him. Chris winced slightly and he almost stopped until he felt Chris's free hand at his belt. He pulled up on the shirt tail again. Chris would either have to let him have it or it would tear! He didn't care which happened at that point. Chris had started it, after all! The match was on!

Kel's mom stood at the top of the stairs listening to the sounds, of inarticulate laughter and the occasional thumps and curses, that emerged from behind her son's door. She thought about going down to break it up before they broke the furniture or themselves but decided against it. She turned away to head for her own bed. She'd wake up what was left of them in the morning. She'd also have to remember to take them to task for their language.

"You sure you're ok?" Kel asked his boyfiend as he leaned, nude, against the side of the bed with Chris. He smiled weakly. He was nude, but he'd gotten Chris's shirt off finally and his jeans and boxers down to his knees before he'd winced hard with pain and they'd agreed to stop.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'm OK." Chris tentativly bent his leg and breathed out when nothing happened. He reached down and pulled the rest off himself then leaned back again. "There, now we're even."

"So what do we call this?" Kelvin chuckled to himself as he stared at Chris's rapidly hardening penis, pumping up with each visible heartbeat, then at his own rigid member hard against his sweaty abdomen.

"I don't know," Chris panted back, smiling and wiping his forehead. "Foreplay?" He began to chuckle himself at the thought.

"Ha, I'll show you foreplay." Kel reached over and grabbed Chris's cock and stroked it a few times, playing peek-a-boo with the head. "I ought to make you suck on this thing yourself, except then no one would ever see you again!"

"Naw, I'd rather play with you." Chris rolled towards Kel and grabbed him as well. "I'm around me all the time."

"How can you stand it?" Kel giggled, then took a sharp breath when Chris shifted his grip to include his balls and squeezed.

"What did you say?" Chris smiled and bent to attack the mountains and valleys of his friend's naked chest with his tongue, focusing on the peaks.

"I said I love you and will never say anything meantoyouagain!" Kel rushed through his words and was relieved to feel Chris's grip loosen. "Oh fuck!" Kel knew his nipples were sensitive ever since he'd slid shirtless through a patch of sticker bushes playing football with his brothers in the back yard. Only now he understood why they'd laughed at him so hard. They could feel good too!

Chris left what he'd been doing and moved slowly down the ridges of Kel's abdomen until he found the slightly dimpled, almost flat bellybutton and sucked it like a small inverted penis. He felt the rumble of a deep growl race through Kel's body as he smiled in between his attacks.

"Let...me...do...you...too." Kel managed to squeak out through the sensations coursing through him from unexpected areas.

Chris moved to lie flat on his side and curved his back so they would be at the same level as he helped position Kelvin alongside of him. His own breathing became ragged when he felt Kel's tongue at his own slightly deeper bellybutton. He swore he could feel the tip of Kel's rigid pole, which he'd held out of the way, throbbing in his short hair, slicking part of it in the process.

When Kel moved down and swallowed him, he did the same. This time there was no soap or chlorinated water to deal with. What they tasted was just them and they each reveled in it!

Kelvin laughed internally as they both continued their work through the intense feelings each gave the other. This time it was drawing out. He was lasting much longer than he had in the past. Maybe, he thought, they needed to fight more often. He felt one of Chris's hands leave his balls and a finger force its way through his clenched cheeks and into him. That was almost too much in the state he was in but he managed to fight back and reciprocated, finding his own finger now trapped in the warmth his boyfriend exuded inside.

Too soon it was over for them as Chris began shooting wave after wave out of his body, this time not outlasting Kelvin, who followed just as Chris's had slowed to a dribble which felt like it was forcibly pulled through him like a straw.

Reluctantly, they let each other go and Kel flipped his position to bring them face to face. They smiled and kissed quietly as they stroked each other's sleek bodies. Neither said a word, wanting the moment to last as long as possible. Kel finally stopped and reached up, pulling the bed covers down to where they lay. He snuggled as close to Chris as he could, both content to stay on the floor, and held Chris as tightly as Chris held him.

Kel taxied the little biplane through the dark to the end of the runway while Chris fidgeted in the cramped front cockpit. They'd both quietly dressed and blearily sneaked out of the house in the predawn morning, only to come down to make this flight at Kel's insistence.

"Chris, I know this is early..." Kel began through the intercomm as they began their takeoff roll, "...but I wanted to share this with you. You've heard me repeat it over and over. Now just listen to the words and enjoy the sunrise. I'm tired of sunsets."

Chris watched as they climbed higher between the dark clouds that patterned the sky. Suddenly they broke out above the clouds and were surrounded by golden light reflecting off the tops, turning them a rich gold as well!

"Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth," Kel began `High Flight' from memory, the sights this morning almost overcoming him as well. "And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings...."

Chris felt his own tears as Kel continued introducing his two loves to each other. He had no doubt he was the most important of them but embraced the other like an old friend as Kel began some vertical maneuvers. Strangly, he felt his nervousness leave his body completely. He was secure up here.

"...Where never lark, or even eagle flew," Kel continued, watching the sun glint off the gold colored white wings to either side. He pulled back to straight and level high above the gold cloudtops now, with only the dark blue above. He pulled the throttle back and felt the noise inside diminish to almost nothing.

"And, while with silent lifting mind...," he continued quietly now, "...I've trod the untrespassed sanctity of space..." Kel didn't think of himself as traditionaly religious. His God was one of love, not the churches he'd rejected. He'd once heard that to love someone totally was to know the face of God. So he gently reached his hand through the small space between the cockpits and stroked Chris's soft tear-streaked face. "...put out my hand and touched the face of God."

They flew on in the quiet peace of another Sunday morning. Soon they would have to return to earth and their troubles would still be there, but they were secure. Secure in their families, secure in their small circle of friends and, most of all, secure in their love for each other. Nothing else mattered!

The End?

In answer to a couple of E-mails about the poem 'High Flight'. It is available from any pilot or from many different sites around the web. It was written by John Gillespie Magee, Jr. He was a 19 year old American fighter pilot flying for the Royal Canadian Air Force in 1941. He penned the poem and sent it to his parents after a test flight in a new Spitfire. Three months later he was killed during a routine training flight. Forever 19 years old.

High Fight By John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings. Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds And done a hundred things you have not dreamed of. Wheeled and soared and swung high into the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting winds along and Flung my eager craft through the footless halls of air.

Up, up the long delirious burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace Where never lark, or even eagle flew.

And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod the untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand and touched the face of God. __________________________________________________________________________

My thanks to ED for his assistance with this story. It has been great! Please let me know what you think of this story. Based on the E-mails I've recieved, this story has touched a lot of you and I thank you for your responses! I have been trying to answer all I recieve. (With varying degrees of success.) I want to thank Nifty for giving me a place to share Kelvin and Christopher with you all! It has been my pleasure to do so. Willy B. (haztech@msn.com)