Chapter 11: Departures

03 January 2015 – Laurence G. Hanscom Field, Bedford, Massachusetts

“NO!” Sabrina wailed. “You can’t leave!”

“I have tæ, lass,” Hamish whispered. “I’m vurry sorry.”

Sabrina broke down. Miriam and Jeff also sat in Atlantic Flight School’s meeting room, sorrow clear on their faces. It was after midnight. The long hours of flight training had taxed everyone in the room.

“Lassie,” Hamish said softly. “Sabrina. ‘Till recently, I’ve been able tæ keep what those animals did tæ me family firmly in the past.” Sabrina looked up with red, puffy eyes. “Meetin’ ye three years ago finally began breakin’ down the walls I’d built around me feelins. Ye’ve helped me tæ feel joy again, lass, tæ feel the beginnins of love again,” Hamish said while glancing at Miriam. The older woman smiled back bravely but sadly.

“The meetin’ with the task force before Christmas, however, showed me that I have tæ hunt those slavin’ bastards again. Not fer revenge, but so næ other families go through what those girls’ families went through,” meaning the girls who died the day the Ashburnham officer had, “what yers is goin’ through, or what I’ve been through. Ted Brewington swore me in as one of his special investigators, and I’ve been seconded to ... ah ... another agency out of state. I leave in a few days. I’ve næ been looking forward tæ tellin’ ye, lass.”

Sabrina knelt at the small shrine to her uncle the next morning. She hadn’t slept well. Chaotic, half-formed thoughts swirled in her head, disrupting her attempted meditation. She blew out a frustrated breath, stood, and bowed to the portrait of her uncle. She wasn’t going to be able to concentrate today.

She turned for the stairs and banged into the back of the new couch. Nothing in the house was where it was supposed to be! The living room furniture sat in the wrong places, the kitchen table looked weird, and the walls were the wrong color! Sabrina ground her teeth as she stomped up the stairs. She grumbled to herself the whole time she changed into her workout clothes. She clomped down to the gym.

The sight of the new workout machines clashed with her memories. She growled again. Thumping her sparring gloves together a couple of times helped her focus, but not much. Sabrina punished the new heavy bag for the crime of being new. Her frustrations melted away with each punch and kick landed.

’Damn Hamish anyway!’ she railed. That kick hit especially hard. Tears rolled down her cheeks. ’Why does he have to leave?’ The heavy bag rattled and shook with each impact. It just hung there like the inanimate object it was, providing no answers.

Sabrina flopped to the floor after five minutes of hard strikes. Everything hurt. Her thighs and shoulders burned from her workout. Her eyes felt gritty and raw. Her hands and shins throbbed.

The ceiling fans spun in lazy circles above her head as she stared. She blew out another breath. Time to suck it up and get on with life.

<THOCK!>

Someone bounced their hockey stick off Sabrina’s helmet.

“Head in the game, Dragon Lady,” Shawn said from the bench next to her.

“I keep telling you, Shawn: Japanese dragons are not something you want to run into. Too much mayhem ensues.”

“And I keep telling you, Sabrina: I only care what kind of mayhem you’re gonna unleash on the other teams.” She admitted Shawn had a point. “Anyway, we need you focused today.”

Sabrina studied their opponent’s style of play.

“They’re making us bunch up,” she said to Shawn. He nodded in agreement. “Remind the guys to spread the ice wide and make Amesbury play our game, not theirs. Use our quickness and passing skills against them. I’m surprised Coach hasn’t said anything yet.”

She glanced at the clock – still six minutes left in the period. Good. Opening the ice up favored Fitchburg’s style of play. It also made their tic-tac-toe passing easier. Phil Scott fired a one-timer from the right slot to give Fitchburg a one-nothing lead just before the first intermission.

“Good job figuring out the problem, guys,” Coach Savard said in the locker room. “Keep making them chase you around. That’ll wear ‘em out and give us more opportunities to score.”

The Fitchburg players flitted and darted away from Amesbury for the rest of the game. Amesbury’s players were still breathing hard in the handshake line after the final horn.

“Jesus, I’m beat,” Pete sighed as he dropped into the seat next to Sabrina. “Even on a weekend, it’s going to be a long bus ride home.”

“Not the kinda place I think about when I want to curl up with my boyfriend,” Sabrina replied. She put her head down on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s not the kind of Friday night date you envisioned, either,” Pete said after kissing her forehead. “At least we won the game. And we clinched first place in our division with the win.”

“And a first-round playoff bye, too. We’re gonna need it to conserve our strength. We’re going to face Amesbury again in the finals, I can feel it.”

“You okay, Sabrina?” Shawn asked his distracted captain at lunch the following Monday. Sabrina glanced up from her seaweed salad.

“I guess,” she said quietly before looking back down and spearing another forkful.

“I know you’ve had a lot on your mind over the last six months, especially since your application to USAFA is due next week. Is there anything the rest of us can help you with or do for you?”

Sabrina shook her head.

“I feel like I’ve been letting you guys down this year, both on and off the ice.”

Shawn put down his sandwich. He shared looks with their other friends sitting with them.

“How do you figure that?”

“I feel like I’ve been running on autopilot since Halloween,” she griped while counting off points on her fingers. “I haven’t been much of a captain this year, certainly nothing like Alan was for us last year. My grades here are fine, but nothing like what I should be pulling down. I’ve barely made any time for any of you, with the possible exception of Pete. Other than hockey, I’m not involved in much else.”

“You don’t think that maybe, perhaps, you’re being a little hard on yourself?” Erica asked. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t have a shit-ton of stuff going on in your life, Sabrina.”

“That’s my point, Erica!” Sabrina cried. “I’ve got so many other things going on that I’m neglecting my friendship with all of you!”

“I don’t think you’ll find any of us agreeing with you there,” Ruby commented. “Sabrina, it makes sense that you’re busier than the rest of us because you’re getting ready to go places the rest of us can’t even dream of!”

“Yeah, but...”

“No buts about it, Badass! Ruby’s right,” Vic said, borrowing Tommy’s nickname for her. “Look, Dad and I talked about people and their high school experiences a little while back. He said that high school is the time when we’re most able to make choices that will affect the rest of our lives and that just about all options are still open to us. He said that after high school, those options start to narrow. The decisions we make about which school to go to will dictate what kind of career we start, who we meet next, and whom we marry.

“In your case, it’s a little different. Admission to any service Academy is very competitive and demands your focus. You’re going to leave us in the dust. Don’t give me that look, Sabrina. Compared to yours, our careers will seem pretty mundane. My definition of success is going to differ from yours, and everyone else’s, even my parents, and I’m not worried about it. Faith’s definition will be different from mine and might lead her down a different path, or we’ll be on similar paths and be together long-term. ‘Que será, será,’ as Mom would say.”

Sabrina’s grades climbed again now that her tunnel-vision was gone – not that they were terrible to begin with. Sabrina changed and walked down to the gym, leaving the pile of USAFA application paperwork on her desk. Her katas helped her warm up for her treadmill run. Sabrina longed for the snow to melt so she could get back out on the roads with their changing scenery. Staring at the same wall for thirty minutes got old, fast.

Today was leg day: squats, lunges, presses, a jump rope, and a slide-skating board occupied her workout schedule. Another kata marked the end of her workout.

“Good workout, Princess?” her father asked when she walked back into the kitchen. He handed her a muscle-recovery shake.

“Yeah, it helped clear my head, too.”

“The best workouts always do for me.”