Cadet - 8. Cadet Third Class • III

“Mesa Verde National Park was established in 1906 to preserve the archeological heritage of the Ancestral Pueblo people, both atop the mesas, and in the cliff dwellings below. The park includes over 4,500 archeological sites with only six hundred of them being villages built into the rock face.” The speaker flashed a quick smile at Ritch and Will before returning her attention to the individuals surrounding her.

“Around 550, before Europeans explored North America, some of the people living in the Four Corners region moved to the Mesa Verde. For over seven hundred years, they and their descendants lived and flourished here. They built elaborate stone communities in the sheltered alcoves of canyon walls while farming atop the mesa.

“The park preserves a spectacular reminder of this ancient culture. Archeologists have called these people Anasazi, from a Navajo word sometimes translated as the ancient foreigners. We now call them Ancestral Pueblo people, reflecting their modern descendants.”

Ritch nudged his companion and tilted his head towards the left. They peeled away from the group paying attention to the Park Ranger before the start of their guided tour. As they exited the building, Ritch handed his phone over and stood in front of a wall with the National Park Service’s arrowhead logo and Mesa Verde National Park Visitor and Research Center. He took his sunglasses off and smiled while squinting in the bright sunshine.

“Awesome! My brother and brother-in-law are gonna be sooo jealous when I send it to them.”

“How come?” Will Bender had immediately accepted Ritch’s invitation to explore the park in the south-west corner of the state.

“Because Owen would love this building with all its fancy, environmentally friendly shit, and CJ’s a National Parks freak. You have any idea how many of them I’ve been to? I’ll admit most of them were cool. Especially the Civil War battle sites. But my favorite ever was the Wright Brothers National Memorial at Kill Devil Hill in North Carolina.”

“That figures… You guys on the East Coast have all those historical sites we don’t have out here in the West. I’m a little jealous.”

“Bro, don’t. We don’t have anything like this back there.” Ritch waved an arm to encompass the majestic view. Mountains with bare or conifer-dotted rock faces surrounded them.

They had been at the Academy’s Flight Training Center when it opened and in the air soon after. Ritch had planned the trip, reserved the plane and a car at his destination, before asking Will to tag along. The flight to Cortez Municipal Airport was smooth, and the rental was waiting when they landed. Unlike at the Academy’s agencies, an underage surcharge was added to the cost.

Less than half an hour later, they were at the park’s Visitor Center. Although they had lingered and listened to the ranger’s introduction, they had not purchased tickets for a tour. They had limited time on the ground before Ritch flew them back. Instead, they decided to visit one of the locations not requiring escorts.

The twenty-mile drive from the Visitor Center to their destination took a little over an hour since the guys stopped at overlooks to admire the view. From the parking lot at their destination, they headed to the Chapin Mesa Archeological Museum before standing on the canyon’s rim, staring at Spruce Tree House.

“Talk about a perilous commute. Imagine climbing the rock face daily to reach their corn patch on top?” Staring at the structures built in a recess, Ritch marveled at the ingenuity and daring of the ancient civilization. Protected from predators and enemies by building and living in what was a giant cave-like space, hand and toe holds were cut into the rock to reach farmed land atop the mesa.

“No, thanks.” Will shook his head. “I don’t mind heights, but that climb looks petrifying from here.”

“Come on, let’s go check it out.” Ritch led, as they jogged down the switchback trail to the canyon bottom and up the ramp on the other side. There was no other way to reach the ancient structures. Hustling along the way, they passed a few overweight and older individuals taking a break to catch their breath. Ritch was happy the Academy required them to be in top physical condition.

“What’s the big hole?” Will pointed at a round opening in the ground.

Ritch shrugged and glanced at his phone. “No idea, and I have no reception. We’ll google it later.”

“It’s called a kiva, and it was used for religious ceremonies and meetings. If you look at the ceiling, you’ll see soot discoloration from fires burning in there.” The Park Ranger had stood at the edge of the cavern when they arrived but was now right behind them.

Ritch turned to thank her but was unable to say anything for a moment. The woman was gorgeous. “Thank you! My buddy and I are lucky you’re around to explain things to us.” Ritch gave her a flirtatious smile and a wink.

She laughed. “You’re a flirt. Do you always wink at Park Rangers?”

“Only the ones I want to get to know better.”

Will smacked his own forehead. “Hey, Peterson, stop it right now. The plane only has two seats and I need to be back at the Academy sometime today.”

“Plane? Academy?” The woman appeared confused.

“I’m Ritch, and he’s Will.” As Ritch spoke, he tapped his phone’s screen a couple of times. “What’s your name, Park Ranger Lady?”

She laughed again. “Rhonda.”

“Well, Rhonda, this should explain the Academy.” Ritch turned the phone to reveal a picture of him and Will, in uniform, standing in front of Polaris Hall. “We’re cadets at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.”

He thumbed through several pictures until he came to one Will had taken that morning of Ritch at the controls. “And that’s the plane. I’m a pilot, and I rented it this morning, so we could fly down and check out this place.”

“Really? I’m surprised someone your age would be so interested in ruins to rent a plane to come see them. Isn’t that expensive?”

“He can afford it. He’s loaded.” Will ducked to avoid the head slap Ritch aimed his way.

“Shut up, Bender.” He returned his attention to Rhonda and smiled. “What do you mean my age? We’re probably around the same.” Ritch glanced at the ground and kicked a few pebbles out of the way. “You know, if you give me your number, I’ll call you next time I go flying. I could come back here, you meet me at the airport, and I’ll take you for a ride.”

Will was going to have a bruise on his forehead.

Rhonda laughed again. “Slow your roll, Romeo. My boyfriend may object to me going up in a plane with a stranger.”

“I’m not a stranger. You know my name.”

“Give it up, Peterson. Your charm and wit are being wasted.”

“Don’t blame me for trying. Rhonda’s a beautiful woman.”

Ritch may not have scored a phone number, but he and Will had their own private guide for the remainder of their time at Spruce Tree House. Rhonda even hugged them both before they retraced their steps to the canyon’s rim.

Afterwards, sitting in the rental car, both cadets spent a few minutes on their phone. “Damn it’s good to have reception again. I sent my brother the picture Rhonda took of us in front of the ruins. I’ll post it on Insta later.”

“You know something, Peterson? It was refreshing to see you strike out with a chick for once. It gives us mere mortals hope.”

“Shut up, Bender!”

“Hey! I texted Mom before we left to let her know where we were going. She wants to know if you’re coming up for Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll firm up my plans soon, but I don’t think so.” Ritch lowered his sunglasses and started the engine. “Once I figure it out, I’ll text your mom and my aunt.”

Will finished buckling himself in. “Going back to D.C. this year?”

“Ummm… not exactly. I’m thinking of heading up to Vail and getting in some time on the slopes.” Ritch paused, knowing his next statement would have Will jumping all over him. “Wendy invited me to have Thanksgiving at her place.”

Cadet Third Class Edrice King had availed himself of changes made in September 2020 to rules governing how airmen wore their hair. Men, who previously had to keep it no more than one-and-a-quarter inches from their scalp, could now grow it to two inches. Edrice kept his shorter but took advantage of the ability to cut, clip, or shave a straight-line part on either side of their head.

The changes were a minor part of Air Force efforts to improve the lives of minority airmen, after George Floyd’s death prompted a nationwide reckoning with race. Other policies were more significant.

“That was cool. You can do it at any airport?” Edrice’s voice was a tad shaky.

“Let go of the arm rests. Your knuckles are turning white.” Ritch was surprised his friend was nervous. “And on these small ones, yeah. I don’t think the tower at Denver International would be too happy with me if I radioed for permission to do it there.” A little over a month after his flight to Cortez Municipal Airport, and his jaunt to Mesa Verde National Park with his roommate, Ritch invited Edrice to go flying.

The Silver Springs’ cadet fingered his shaved hair part, as power increased, and the plane’s nose pointed upwards. “Sorry… I know you’ve flown these things often enough, but I still feel weird. You can be a pilot, I’ll stick to intelligence work.”

Ritch smiled at his friend’s discomfort and new habit. “Spies R Us better be hiring!” He had chosen a western heading to avoid flying into the morning sun; visibility was an issue when glare hit your eyes. A common habit amongst private pilots, he had done a touch-and-go at Grand Junction Regional Airport, which led to Edrice’s questions. Approaching as if ready to land, he rose again immediately after the plane’s wheels kissed the runway. Landings were one of the most dangerous aspects of flying, and Ritch practiced as often as possible.

The small city on the state’s Western Slope was at the center of Colorado’s wine country. Exploring a vineyard or two was something Ritch planned on doing at some point in the future. This trip, he and Edrice ubered to Bacon Station, a barbeque joint a C1C had recommended.

“Damn, that was good.” Edrice licked rich, dark sauce off his fingers before unfolding one of the moist towelettes the server had left on their table. “I’m buying.” He reached into his pocket for a credit card and dropped it atop the bill.

“No, bro, you don’t need to do that.” Ritch took his own card out of his phone case. “I invited you. The least I can do is buy you lunch to thank you for keeping me company.”

“You nuts? You paid for the rental, gas, insurance, landing fees... Hell, I have no idea what’s involved in renting a plane. Lunch is the least I can do to thank you.” Edrice stared at his fellow cadet and smirked. “And if we’re being honest, I’m kissing a little ass. I wanna wrangle an invitation to hit the slopes in Vail with you.”

Ritch’s hearty laughter filled the restaurant. “No ass kissing. You remember I’m the straight brother, right? I’m probably going to Vail for Thanksgiving, if you want to tag along. What are your plans, anyway? Flying home?”

“Nope, not worth it for only a couple of days. My sponsors invited me to join them again this year. And they have these neighbors who have a daughter that’s smoking.”

The Academy recruited active or retired military individuals, and selected civilians, to serve as mentors to its students. Families, living within fifty miles, offered cadets a home away from home. Sponsors provided advice on military life and positive, adult role models. The relationships often lasted beyond the four years spent in Colorado Springs.

Since he had a Marine as a father, and had been surrounded by the military since birth, Ritch did not feel the need for guidance on what it was like to be in the armed forces. He declined to participate in the program, but Edrice had taken advantage of it. He had mentioned spending time with them on several occasions.

“Yeah right, like you’re gonna get laid. Your chances are better hanging with me. We can spend a couple of days playing in the snow, chasing girls. And we’ll have a great place to take them back to when we get lucky.”

“What about the meal itself?”

Ritch grinned. “Got that under control, bro. I’ll take care of us.”

Ritch and Edrice left the Academy on Wednesday after a dawn surprise inspection. They drove to Vail, stopped at the house to pick up equipment, and were on the mountain all afternoon. That night, they walked through town, had dinner at a restaurant on Gore Creek, and managed to snatch phone numbers from a couple of girls they planned to meet again.

Thursday morning, after a large breakfast, they both called family and friends to wish them a happy holiday. Before they left the house in the early afternoon, Ritch unlocked the liquor cabinet, and took a bottle of wine from the rack.

“Are you my mom’s new boyfriend?” The kid jerked his head backward, flipping blonde bangs off his face.

Ritch chuckled. “Well, hello there. You must be Clay. I’m Ritch”—he flicked a thumb over his shoulder—“and this is my friend, Edrice.”

“CLAY!” The woman’s shout came from somewhere inside the apartment. “Let them in and close the door. It’s cold enough already in here. Did you change the temperature like I asked you?”

The kid stared at his shoes for a moment. “Sorry, Mom. I forgot.” He might have also forgotten there were two young men standing in the doorway; he ran away presumably to fiddle with the thermostat.

Ritch shrugged, smiled at Edrice, and closed the door once both were inside. “Hey, Wendy.” The apartment’s open-floor plan allowed him to see their host in the kitchen.

The woman wiped her hands with a dishtowel and hugged Ritch. “Welcome, guys. Sorry about Clay’s greeting.”

Edrice and Ritch chuckled. “It’s okay. Edrice King, meet Wendy Jones.”

“Thanks for having me, Wendy. This is for you.” Edrice handed her the wine bottle he carried, since Ritch had his hands full.

“Thank you! And welcome. Take your coats off and make yourselves at home.” She glanced at the bottle’s label before scrunching her face. “Liston? From Australia?” Her eyes met Ritch’s. “Didn’t you say you have relatives down there?”

Nodding, Ritch draped his jacket over a chair and placed a plastic bag on the kitchen counter. “We stole that from my brother’s stash. My brolaw’s family owns the winery.”

“Brolaw? That’s a new one. Look in the last drawer.” She pointed to the end of the cabinetry. “There should be a corkscrew in there. Glasses are in the top cupboard.”

“Ummm, Edrice and I are underage, Wendy. The Academy frowns on us drinking.”

“Live a little, guys. I’m not telling anyone.”

Edrice shrugged when Ritch shot him a questioning look. “I’m good having a glass, Peterson. I tasted it when I was at his house over the summer, Wendy. You’re in for a treat.”

“So, you didn’t answer me. Are you Mom’s boyfriend?” Clay stared up at Ritch after tugging on his sweatshirt’s sleeve.

Ritch squatted so he could be at eye level with the kid. “I’m just a friend, Clay.” He reached for the package he had carried in. “Hey, we brought you a present.” Inside the bag was a scale model Lockheed Martin F-35 Lighting II airplane. “That’s one of the jets I hope to fly sometime soon.”

“You’re a pilot?”

“I am. But right now, I only fly small planes. Your mom’s been up with me before. Maybe next year, when the weather warms up, she can bring you down to Colorado Springs, and I’ll take you for a ride.”

By the time they left Wendy’s home, the bottle of wine was empty, the cadets’ stomachs were full, and Clay had decided Ritch and Edrice were his new best friends. Ritch repeated the invitation he had made earlier, and Wendy accepted. Sometime in spring, she would drive south to the Academy, so her son could go flying with Ritch.

“Oh, my god! I can’t believe you made me come twice!”

Ritch kissed the girl, as he held the condom’s rim while pulling out. “You’re welcome. Be back in a minute.”

In the bathroom, he flushed the full rubber down the toilet and jumped in the shower. Madison was a hot fuck, he thought. He and Edrice ran into the University of Colorado’s freshman on the lift’s line early Friday morning. She was in town with her family, complained about her younger brothers constantly pestering her, and spent her time with the two cadets.

A couple of hours after meeting, Ritch had kicked up his board, and held it behind his head with both hands. He, Edrice, and Madison had agreed the run they had just finished would be the final one before lunch. “Hey! Ed and I are gonna pick up subs and head back to my place. We plan to eat in the hot tub. Wanna come with?” Their intention had been to take a long nap in the afternoon, but Ritch was willing to forego sleep, if it meant getting some.

The girl hesitated for a moment. “Fuck it!” She took off her gloves and retrieved her phone from a pocket. “I’ll text the ’rents I’m eating with friends. Will you guys bring me back here after?”

“Here or anywhere you’d like, darling.” Edrice turned on the charm. “Peterson and I are your humble servants. Oh, and we’re buying.”

As he dried himself, Ritch decided Madison Packer was a freak. A good type of freak. The girl had offered them pot lollies, shrugged when they declined due to the Academy’s prohibition, and popped one in her mouth as she shed her clothes. Moments later, she was in the hot tub between the cadets, kissing first one then the other. When she climbed atop Ritch’s lap and ground herself against his erection, he had enough.

He stood and took Madison’s hand. “King, entertain yourself. We’ll be back sooner or later.”

He chuckled while looking for mouthwash in the cabinet. “That fucker…” Edrice had entertained himself by following the couple, sitting in an armchair, and stroking himself while Ritch ate then fucked Madison.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, Ritch returned to the bedroom, and was confronted with a sight he would laugh about for a long time: Edrice’s bouncing ass, as he railed the squealing girl.

Later, on their way to Keystone, they dropped Madison off. The neighboring resort offered night skiing and boarding, and they had tickets good between four and nine. As they hugged the girl, there were vague comments about getting together again on Saturday morning. Neither Ritch nor Edrice wanted to commit in case they met someone else to play with. Preferably two. Ritch was okay with sharing, but did not want to make a habit out of it.

“Bro, that was in sane.” Edrice held his hands in front of the Jeep’s vents, trying to warm up. Although they had added layers to their outfits, the temperature had dropped precipitously after sunset. “Next time, we need to get some of those chemical warming packs for our hands and feet.”

“And better goggles. I could barely see going down the mountain.” Night skiing presented different challenges than daytime. Not only was it colder, but the snow melted while the sun was out, refroze when it set, and created an icy surface. Mountain contours were also harder to see.

“I signed up for the Ski Club’s MLK Weekend trip. We’ll have to do this again.” Edrice had agreed when Ritch suggested they return home; snow had started to fall, and visibility had deteriorated.

Ritch chuckled. “I don’t think we could have gotten away with having Madison over if we had a bunch of people at the house. We may have to plan a day trip to Boulder to see her again.”

“Fuck that! We can find fresh meat.” Edrice tapped Ritch’s shoulder. “Bro, you and me. Together, we can pull chicks without problem.”

“I wouldn’t mind scoring with Miranda.” Ritch realized he and Edrice had bonded in a way he thought would be unlikely to happen with any other guy. They had shared pussy.

“Dude! She’s fiiine. But I’d be scared she’d kick my ass.” Cadet Second Class Miranda Kerr was second in command of the Ski Club, and a dynamo in martial arts. Edrice and Ritch had watched her indiscriminately pummel both males and females in practice.

“FUCK!” At the same time he cursed, Ritch stepped on the brakes; he feared sliding on black ice apparently covering the dark road. A car had crossed in front of them from the left lane and slammed into the banked snow on the side. He steered towards the shoulder and turned on the hazard lights.

Edrice was out the door, racing towards the vehicle stuck on the embankment, before Ritch turned the engine off. He reached the spot of the accident a moment after his friend. Not wearing coats or gloves, they frantically dug at the snow covering the car’s driver’s side with their bare hands.

Fingers numb from the cold, wet stuff, they at last cleared enough of it away to try and open the door. The air bag had deployed, and a moaning teen tried but failed to unbuckle his seat belt. Ritch reached into his bib’s pocket, retrieved a knife, and attacked the restraining strap.

He had no idea if the car could explode or catch on fire; the kid appeared alert, and Ritch wanted to get him out and away from the vehicle. Nobody else was inside. With an arm around the victim’s waist, he supported the guy, as they started walking towards Defiant. Ritch figured they could call 911 inside the warmth; the cold was getting to him.

“WATCH OUT!” Edrice shouted as he tackled Ritch and the teen. All three flew into the ditch on the side of the road as a semi-truck came around the curve. It slid on the same patch of ice, swerved onto the shoulder, and smashed into Defiant.

The sun was barely above the horizon as Ritch and Edrice sat in the kitchen nursing their umpteenth mug of coffee. They had been up all night. EMT personnel had insisted on taking all three to the nearest medical facility, releasing them after it was determined they were not injured. The kid’s parents had shown up at the emergency room at some point and profusely thanked the cadets for rescuing their son.

Since the Jeep was totaled, they insisted on driving Ritch and Edrice back. The father pressed a business card into Ritch’s hand and asked him to call next time he was in Vail.

There would be no time on the trails Saturday. Once he determined it was not too early on the West Coast, Ritch stared at his phone trying to decide who to call first: his parents or the cops. The family won. He would deal with the authorities later. He and Edrice needed to find out where Defiant had been towed to and visit the place to retrieve whatever personal possessions could be salvaged.

“Hey, buddy! This is a nice surprise.” César sounded upbeat, and Ritch was glad for the good mood.

“Morning, Dad. Where are you?”

“In the car. You’re on speaker, and Brett’s driving us to breakfast.”

“What up, cadet?”

“Hi, Papa. Listen, Ed and I are fine, okay?” Ritch had called everyone on Thursday to wish the family a happy Thanksgiving. That had taken a couple of hours in late morning. “Ummm, there was an accident last night. Defiant got totaled.” Knowing his parents, he knew there was not need to sugarcoat the event.

“You’re not hurt?” Brett was uncharacteristically subdued.

“Nope. EMT took us to the hospital, and they released us after looking us over.”

The Marine was apparently unhappy with the terse recounting. “Details, cadet. Details.”

Ritch chuckled, it was a typical Brett move. “Not that it makes a difference, but we stopped to help a kid who slid on ice. We were walking back to the Jeep, and a semi skidded on the same ice patch. Ed saved us by knocking us down.” Ritch and Edrice had both told the story—to cops, EMTs, nurses, and doctors—more times than he cared to count.

As usual, César was all business. “Text me the police report number, and we’ll handle the insurance.”

“CJ’s gonna be pissed.” Ritch waved away Edrice’s questioning look, his hand promising details at a later time.

“He’ll get over it. Hang on a second, Ritch.” Complete silence for a moment meant César must have muted the phone. “Sorry, buddy, I wanted to make sure Brett and I were on the same page.”

“Ritch?” Brett’s tone telegraphed a zinger was on the way. “You sure you didn’t arrange this to get a new car?”

The joke broke the tension in a kitchen in Vail; the cadets laughed. “Fuck you, Cap!”

“Seriously, that was going to be the car you took to the Academy next summer.” As a Cadet Second Class, Ritch would at last be allowed to keep a vehicle on Academy grounds. “César and I agree you should have a say in what we replace the Jeep with. Any ideas?”

“Maybe…” Ritch’s mind was already working out the details of how to get what he had dreamt of driving for a while. The trauma of the accident was quickly replaced with anticipation.

“Look, Ritch, we trust you. Here’s what I think we should do.” César outlined several options, and a couple of restrictions; Ritch chose to buy a new car in Colorado Springs.

Their boots, boards, and helmets had been in the back of the Jeep and were destroyed. Ritch and Edrice were able to salvage their ski jackets, and a few other personal items before driving away from the tow yard. Ritch documented as much as he could with his phone, in case the insurance company questioned the loss in any way.

Somewhat rattled by the previous day’s events, and lacking the motivation to do anything, they headed back to Colorado Springs a day early.