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Libertine Adventures chapter 8
Krystal
I drove back to Dallas on the morning of the 30th after spending a couple more days with Aunt Gwen and Chelly. The drive back was entirely on autopilot and I really paid attention to nothing more than changing cassette tapes every 45 or so minutes.
A beautiful day led me to open the windows and the front door. A cool breeze filled the house and I spent the next twenty minutes listening to a variety of voice messages. A couple from George, one each from Amy and Stephanie three from Lisa, two from dad, and the last one was from Tina, identifying herself as a friend of Lisa's.
I thought about the order I should return the calls, settling on boys first, then the girls.
I didn't know what number dad gave me so I tried it first. It would be around 9 his time, so hopefully, he was at the number. I dialed the number and after the second ring a cheerful voice answered, Colonel Cockrum's office, Lieutenant Boyle, how may I help you, sir or ma'am. She had a saccharine-sweet voice, tone, and inflection reflecting professional training. Then it struck me, "Wait, you said Colonel? Not Lieutenant Colonel?"
Her laugh existed on its own plane of music, "Yes, sir, he was promoted recently. You must be his son."
I wondered what the hell dad had been doing to get promoted so quickly. I had barely adjusted to the silver oak leaves from the bronze ones. Now he had birds? I replied, "Sorry, yes, I am Dave."
"He will be back in a couple of minutes if you want to hold, sir."
"Yeah, that's fine, but if you want someone to flirt with you just keep me on the line." It was a long shot that she would be willing to flirt, but I knew a few things. Female officers had a very small pool of guys to choose from. Officers that worked for my dad, even less with the hours he maintained.
Her musical laugh filled my ears as she replied, "Okay, what should we talk about?"
It didn't take half a second for me to reply, "Why don't you tell me about when your album is coming out? I really want to listen to it."
She laughed again and answered, "No album coming from me, but thank you." Her voice contained mirth as she asked, "Do you flirt with everyone?"
It was my turn to laugh, "No, just the pretty ones."
"Oh ho, you think I am pretty? You haven't even seen me."
I chuckled, "Have you heard yourself? All I can say is I bet the privates are danged happy that BDU's are loose and come with a jacket."
Lieutenant Boyle laughed again, and started, "Aren't you," then her voice changed to the professional musician, and she finished, "your son is on the line, sir, I will transfer him right now."
It took about five seconds until dad picked up the phone, "Flirting with my assistant eh?"
Sounding like a parrot I queried, "Have you heard her voice? I mean really listened to her?"
Dad laughed, "Okay, big boy, describe her."
I pulled from my imagination, "Say, five feet three, blonde, brown eyes and cheerleader type."
I could hear his grin through the phone, "Wrong on all three counts, Hero."
I grunted, "Then spill the beans."
Dad laughed even more. "Nope. If you want to know, fly out here and meet her."
Confusion swept through me, "Is she going to be there come summer? Hold on, are you?" I sat upright elbows on my knees. "Is that why you left a message? You aren't coming home in a couple of weeks?"
Dad's voice turned serious, the-boy-don't-fuck-with-me-tone, "There is a ticket waiting for you at the airport. Jump on a flight and I will have someone pick you up at the airport." His voice softened a bit as he concluded, "If you stop fighting about flying out I will have Boyle pick you up."
I had to laugh. "Well, getting to listen to her for a couple of hours would be worth the trip. Oh, by the way, I have something to talk to you about when I get there."
He sounded intrigued but merely said, "Okay. When are you coming?"
I mentally shrugged, "Assuming this is more important than New Year's Eve with a big titted blonde, I will try to catch something tonight if they have it, otherwise tomorrow morning."
"There is, every night at 1900 hours one takes off to New York then Frankfurt."
I glanced at the clock and said, "That doesn't leave me much time. Gotta go, love you."
He hung up the phone with a" too" and I started packing for a week in Germany. I paused long enough to call everyone and let them know I was out of town and would be until after school started.
I slept on the flight to New York. From New York, I slept all the way to Frankfurt. Once the plane entered the final landing pattern I stretched and looked around. Admittedly, I had been a terrible flight partner saying next to nothing the entire time.
It felt good to be back in Germany on some level. Kind of like a second home, but in my case, it would have been the third home. Texas pretty much had become home for me.
I had checked all of my luggage so I was not in a hurry to deplane, well, I was, but the anticipation of hearing that musical instrument called Lieutenant Boyle had become offset some. What if she didn't like me? What if she was horrendously ugly?
I let most of the people depart the plane before I stood and headed down the aisle. The gate area was pretty vacant and I saw a vision holding a sign that merely read, "HERO."
I stumbled in shock. If this was Boyle, she was fantastically more beautiful than her voice. Alabaster skin, so white it seemed to glow. Flame red hair that cascaded into a series of light curls. She was obviously fit, for the Army did not suffer overweight people long. Her dress greens hugged her body, not too tight but tight enough to know she was stacked as well as fit.
She stood around five feet eight inches tall, her face seemed sad, and I would find out that when she did smile it almost always seemed like she was crying, a calmness about her that seemed to radiate out from her persisted despite her countenance.
Something in me felt... calm. Content. As I gazed upon her. I walked up to her and stammered, "B-B-Boyle?"
She smiled warmly, dare I hope lovingly, and the chorus of heaven sang out her reply, "If you are the Hero that I am waiting for then I am indeed the Boyle you seek."
It seemed my heart was racing a million miles per hour as I asked, "I hope you understand that I am not going to call you by Boyle. What's your first name?"
"Krystal, though in return I really want to know about the Hero name."
I replied, "The most beautiful woman in the world should be named Helen, not Krystal."
Her musical laughter seemed to fill the airport, "Oh, you are trying hard to get into my skirt."
I chuckled and replied, "No ma'am. I don't plan to do that until you are my wife."
She stopped whipping her head in my direction. I stopped and looked back at her. She stood staring into my eyes for a minute or two. It gave me a moment to appreciate the hues of blue. She took my hand in hers and said, "Hero, you don't have much time if that is your intention."
I squeezed her hand, stepped up to her, our chests touching, "I know, and if I don't succeed in the seven or ten days I have, I will write you daily, call you weekly until you realize the truth that we belong together, we just have to figure out what that means for us."
Her free hand caressed my face tenderly, and she whispered, "Off to a good start Hero."
I reached up and cupped her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. As our lips met the sun went supernova and the world ceased to exist. Her lips parted slightly and my tongue filled the space, seeking out her tongue. Eternity would not have been long enough for me to enjoy her kiss.
Somehow we parted and looked at each other, "Okay," she whispered, "I believe in you, in us."