Rolling Reversal: A Short Study in fear.

                                                             Chapter 1: The Encounter

Dangerous, he thought, dangerous, yet like so many things of that ilk hard to ignore.  It was a rare night off, and he had not wanted to go out. It was a company function too and business socializing went against his grain. However, when the company you worked for was the United States Navy, attendance was expected. The gathering was being held in the National Museum of Naval Aviation at Pensacola Naval Air Station surrounded by the most incredible collection of Naval aircraft in the world.  This particular model caught his eye like - “no that’s not right,” he thought.   More like a ghost on the radar.  Unseen, at first only felt.  Black hair, green dress, cliché spike heals and bare legs.  “Why don’t women wear stockings anymore,” he wondered, turning back to Sherry the pretty staff adjutant to whom he had been listening. Sherry’s looks almost made up for her unpartylike tapping at a smart phone.

“Here Richard, look at this.”   She leaned closer as though to brush against him.

“It’s a party Sherry.  Put that thing away.”  Richard said then turned in surprise.  There she was standing slightly behind him, the wing tip of a World War II PBY Catalina Flying boat just brushing the top of her head.  First a scent he couldn’t place and then - “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”  The elongated vowels and clipped consonants of a Georgia accent poured out like cane syrup.

Adjutant Sherry missed a step then blurted, “Eh yes, Richard meet Jane Roebling. Jane, Lt. Commander Richard Cheye.”

“A pleasure Commander, I’m sure,” said Jane. She shook hands like a man, green eyes rock solid and clear.

“Mine,” he said.  “Please call me Dick.”

“A bit Freudian don’t you think,” Jane drawled, taking a sip of her drink and glancing around the room. Sherry choked.

“My Mom was a Froid.  F-r-O-I- d,” he added quickly. “A psych major at U.C. Berkeley.   She couldn’t resist.”

Believing herself a third wheel, Sherry attempted to back out with apologies, but before she could, Jane touched her arm. “A moment Sherry if you please,” she said.  “Do you think we could . . .” they turned away.

The exchange gave Dick a chance for comparisons. Sherry was clearly the better looking. Full, blonde hair draped over the shoulders of her too short red suit, - female officers were allowed, (encouraged?) not to wear their uniforms at parties.  She had Arrakis blue eyes, cleavage for days and skaters legs that he could easily imagine - well.

Jane was something with which he was less familiar. Georgia prom queen sweetness backed by an edgy almost aviator like confidence.  She was tall too, easily a head taller than Sherry and while not anorexic, thin.

“The Admiral’s right over there,” offered Jane. Sherry looked over and Jane continued, “While he’s in a good mood, if you know what I mean?”

“I’ll give it a go,” laughed Sherry, and turned away through the crowd.

She walked away, while Dick, momentarily forgetting where he was, shook his head and sighed softly under his breath, “If I could walk that way, I’d walk everywhere I went,” unconsciously quoting a former Louisiana Governor. He looked up to see Jane watching him closely. Dick flushed, embarrassed at being caught ogling a colleague.

Jane giggled.  “Nice tail hook sailor?”

“Oooh, do NOT mention tail hook,” Dick groaned. “That little soiree’ resulted in more dry dock in-ports than I care to remember!”

Jane laughed and shook her head, “Naval aviators, you never change.  Let’s walk a bit shall we Commander,” she tucked her arm through his.  “And you can tell all about yourself.” As they strolled across the simulated flight deck, Dick told her about growing up in nearby Pensacola where running away to join the Navy was almost encouraged, about fishing and building boats with this dad and sister.

“And what is your connection to the Navy, Ms. Roebling,” asked Dick at last, hoping to change the subject.

“I work for a civilian contractor, a TAG-Rep is your quaint little word for it,” she replied.  Dick raised an eyebrow. “Oh nothing glamorous I assure you,” said Jane. “Performance testing of engine lubricants, lots of paperwork.”

Dick looked incredulous at first, and then smiled, “Well you’re the best looking efficiency expert I’ve ever seen.”

Jane fained irritation as she wrapped her knuckles against the nose of Fat Man 2.  The unused third atomic bomb’s shell rang predictably hollow. “Now Commander, a compliment and a jab in the same sentence?”

“Hey PAX,” said Dick. “Why don’t I grab us a drink,” but Jane appeared not to hear him.  She was running her long fingers over the smooth surface of the bomb.  “Ms. Roebling?”

“Umm hmm,” Jane responded absently. “Oh, sorry, that would be lovely.”  She smiled and Dick noticed not for the last time that it was an odd smile.

For the next few weeks Jane kept appearing, as if on cue. Dick was up for a slot on the elite Blue Angel Squadron and might begin to travel a lot very soon. Jane knew it and always seemed to be around, sometimes at the base, sometimes at his door with pot-luck. Dick was not sure where he wanted this to go and though ambivalent, was not sorry when his orders came through. As expected Jane was not happy about Dick's assignment, but she knew the Navy.  A tour with the Blues was a very big deal for a Naval Aviator. Advancement, a salary bump and the added notoriety meant Dick was destined for stars on his shoulders.  For now, Jane would just have to wait.