Cadet - 20. Cadet First Class • V

“Jesus, Peterson, wipe that stupid look off your face already.” Joel crumpled a piece of paper and ricocheted it off Ritch’s forehead.

“What look?”

“The silly one you get every time you talk to your woman. You do it whenever you call her.”

As he did most nights, Ritch had taken a break from studying to call Lucy. Because of the regimented schedule at the Academy, evenings were the most convenient time to do so. He had warned Lucy if she called or texted him during the day, they might be unable to connect.

“You’re out of your mind, Boxworth.”

“Bullshit! I mean, she’s gorgeous. Even I think so. The picture King took of you and her on New Year’s Eve should be blown up poster size. It’s that good. But come on. You need to stop acting like a high schooler with a new crush.”

“I’m doing no such thing!” Ritch’s attempt to sound indignant failed. The grin affixed to his face actually grew. “And anyway, it’s kind of a new thing. Déjà vu all over again.”

“Bullshit! One more time. You dated her for years, you started emailing each other after last spring break, texted constantly after Thanksgiving, and now it’s phone calls. You’re such a goner, bro.”

Ritch shut his engineering book. It was late, and he was not going to get much more done. “Bro, I’m in love, okay? I admit it. One day, I’m gonna marry her, and we’re going to make babies. Beautiful ones. At least a couple of them.”

“Gag me. You’re just like my older brother. He went and got his girlfriend pregnant while still in college. You better be careful this weekend.”

The comment jolted Ritch. He and Lucy had already dealt with an unwanted pregnancy while in high school, and it was nothing he wanted to repeat. Next time she got pregnant, Lucy would be wearing a wedding ring with the biggest diamond he could afford.

“I gave you an order, Cadet! I don’t want to hear another word. You’re dismissed.” Simon Bremen’s commanding voice made him seem larger than his diminutive five-two or five-three height.

“This isn’t over. I’m going to my squadron commander.” The significantly larger C2C apparently did not have a proper understanding of how to keep his mouth shut and obey a superior. He stalked off before Ritch could say anything.

On his way to Hap’s Place to grab a bite with a book to study in hand, Ritch came across the tableau outside Arnold Hall. “Simon, wait up.” Bremen had started to walk away, and stopped when Ritch called out. “What was that all about?”

“Fucking clown’s an ass. I’m gonna make sure he’s demoted back to basic.” The boxer was not amused by Ritch’s laughter. “Don’t laugh! This is all your fault.”

Ritch was surprised. “Me? I don’t even know who he is!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going to my squadron commander first. If she doesn’t do anything, I’ll appeal above her. I want that ass demoted and stripped of passes for the next two years.”

Bremen was on the warpath, and Ritch needed to find out how it had all started and escalated. Further laughter would not be conducive to a serious conversation. “Bro, I’m headed to Hap’s for food. Come with. I’ll buy you a beer, and you can tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”

“No beer.” Bremen pointed at the book in Ritch’s hand. “I need to study too. But I’ll come eat something. You’re gonna have to deal with the asshole or his squadron commander anyway, so you may as well hear about it from me first.”

Wings and fries ordered and Mountain Dew in hand, Ritch guided Bremen to a tabletop away from the bar. He had no idea what had sparked the confrontation, but there was no need for the bartender or any other cadets to listen in. “Okay, calmly, start at the beginning. I wanna hear why you think I’ll have to get involved.”

“I should have never allowed you to talk me into being second-in-command for the Ski Club. We have a bunch of prima donnas born with ski boots on, who insist on making my life difficult.”

Ritch swallowed the impending chuckle. “Okay, so that’s why it’s my fault?”

“Nope. Not even close. Mr. I’m-going-to-my-squadron-commander’s a local. He wanted to bring his girlfriend on the MLK ski trip, and we told him it was strictly for cadets. We’re over capacity anyway.”

“I guess he insisted, eh?”

“He was quiet for a couple of days. Then he heard King and Rodriguez talking about Lucy.”

“Oh, shit.”

Bremen nodded. “Yep. Oh shit’s right. Edrice was telling Fred what a nice girl she was and how he was looking forward to hanging out with her on the slopes. Dickhead asked who they were talking about. Ed explained it was someone’s girlfriend he had met New Year’s Eve, who’d be flying in from Boston to join us in Vail.”

“Crap!” Ritch wondered if he had made a mistake inviting Lucy, but immediately decided since it was his house… If he had to deny the club its use so he could spend time with her, he would turn the weekend into an outing for The Wing instead.

“Yeah, and it all fell on me. Dickhead approached me demanding his girlfriend be allowed on the trip. I ordered him to shut it; he was in no position to demand anything. Then I calmly explained there were special circumstances, and Lucy would not be taking away a cadet’s place.”

“You didn’t mention she’s my girlfriend, and I own the house?”

“Hell, no! None of his fucking business. I gave him an order, and he ignored it. You walked in at the tail end.”

“What squadron’s he in?”

“He’s a Chicken Hawk.”

That meant Squadron Sixteen, and its commander could, at times, be a jerk. “Okay, if I was running the ski club, I would bump his ass off and invite someone on the waiting list to take his place.” Due to an overload of responsibility, Ritch had given up his position in the club when last promoted. Simon had been elevated to second-in-charge in the accompanying shuffle. He was slotted to assume command of the organization his last year at the Academy.

“Not my call, bro. That would have to start with the club’s president.”

“Yeah… Let me think about it while we eat. Our order’s ready.” Although the conversation touched on the weekend trip to Vail, they avoided talking about the complaining cadet while eating. Ritch returned to the topic at the end of their meal.

“Okay, here’s what I want you to do. Nothing.” Ritch smiled when Bremen appeared puzzled. “I leave tomorrow night, and the rest of you follow Saturday morning.” Ritch was using one of his passes for a Friday night drive to Denver to pick up Lucy. They would have an evening alone before the other cadets invaded Falcons Lair.

“If he’s gonna run to daddy for help, he’s gonna find out who big daddy is real fast. Talk to the club’s president and explain what’s going on. I’ll get in touch with your commander. Anyone else, and I mean anyone, approaches you about him, you tell them I ordered you not to say anything. Suggest they come talk to me about it.”

A smile spread across Bremen’s face. “Can I be there when you rip any of them a new asshole?”

“Don’t be a dick.”

An hour or so later, Ritch raised a finger to his lips to keep Joel quiet, and put the call from the Chicken Hawks’ commander on speaker. He figured it would not hurt to have his roommate as a witness if a disagreement ensued.

“Peterson, why are you ordering others not to talk to me? And why is my guy not allowed to take his girl skiing when someone else will? I’m telling you right now, I’m not putting up with this bullshit.” The man was loud and pissed off.

“You done shouting?” There was silence. “Good. And for the record, we’re kicking this up the ladder. Your cadet was disrespectful to a superior, and I was a witness. Tell him next time he decides to argue with someone and not follow orders, he better be careful. I don’t know how Bremen controlled himself and didn’t beat the shit out of him.”

“Bremen? The little guy? Ha! My guy’s bigger than your guy.”

Ritch nearly lost it when Joel rolled his eyes. It was hard to contain the laughter. “What? We’re in elementary school? Your dad can beat up my dad? I’ll have you know mine’s a Marine. And my guy’s a champion boxer. He might be short, but he packs a punch.” Ritch was possessive and protective of everyone in The Wing, the boxing team, and The Dirty Dozen.

“Fine, whatever.” The Chicken Hawks’ commander apparently had forgotten Simon Bremen was the reigning National Collegiate Boxing Association champion in his weight class. Or he wanted to skirt the subject. “What are we going to do about the girlfriend issue? And why are you involved?”

“Because the woman he’s up in arms about’s my girlfriend.”

“And you think you’re better because you’re an officer? That you can skirt stupid ski club rules? I don’t think so, bro. Don’t forget we have the same rank. We’re equals.”

Joel and Ritch simultaneously shook their heads. Ritch decided he wanted the conversation to end. “No, but the fact I own the house in Vail, and ski club members will stay there as my guests, gives me the right to invite anyone else I want.”

“WHAT? You own a place in Vail?” After the first year, the ski club told new members the house belonged to a friend of the Academy. They eventually figured out who it was, but apparently some people had never been clued in.

“I do.” Ritch did not feel the need to explain the family ownership structure. “So, you either tell your cadet to back off, or I cancel the trip, and me and my buddies go up by ourselves. Try and explain that to the administration or the ski club. As of right now, he’s not welcome in my home. He can spend the weekend with his girlfriend anywhere he wants, but it won’t be at Falcons Lair. And he’s still gonna have to answer for being disrespectful to a superior and failing to follow orders.”

Browbeaten, the man on the other end of the line cursed, mumbled, apologized, and hung up. Joel extended a fist as he and Ritch busted up laughing. “Legend. Fucking legend. Bro, you’re a beast! I almost feel sorry for that poor cadet.”

“Fuck him. He messed up with someone in The Wing, and I wasn’t gonna sit still for it. Although Simon would have been fine on his own, I like taking care of my peeps.” Ritch would pay attention the remainder of the year to ensure there was no retaliation.

Simon Bremen had come a long way from the shy kid Ritch had first met. Under The Wing’s tutelage, and with Ritch as his mentor, the Tampa Bay area man had blossomed into an assertive, motivated individual. Ritch thought he would make a kick ass officer. Over the weekend, he would offer Bremen Falcons Lair as a destination the next year. The Ski Club could do a hell of a lot worse than him as its president. Returning to Vail would make it easier for Simon to plan the club’s schedule.

Nerves wracked Ritch while waiting for Lucy outside Denver International’s security barricade. He held a rose bouquet in his hands and had a small jewelry box in his pocket. Wearing his uniform, he attracted smiles and “Thank you for your service” comments from the stream of people hustling to catch a flight or head home after landing.

When he at last saw Lucy walking in his direction, his smile matched hers. They wrapped arms around each other and locked lips in the middle of the terminal. It was not a chaste kiss.

“Yee haw!”

“Give her one for me.”

“Way to go, soldier.”

The comments were funny except for the last one. Damn civilians who couldn’t tell the difference between an Air Force cadet officer and an Army grunt.

Edrice King had met Lucy at Everhope during the New Year’s Eve party, and Joel had said hello during a couple of the video chats between her and Ritch. The rest of The Wing and the other ski club members were respectful and polite when they greeted her Saturday morning. By the end of the day’s skiing, they were back to being rambunctious. That night, after dinner, drinks, and hot tubbing, Lucy admitted she liked Ritch’s friends. Particularly Joel who constantly made her laugh with his antics.

Sunday was a repeat of the previous day. A party atmosphere prevailed wherever the cadets went. Most everyone over legal drinking age carried a pint bottle inside their coats, and King, with Bender as his wingman, approached every good-looking woman he came across. They missed the shuttle bus when it returned to Falcons Lair and were eventually dropped off later in the evening. To loud abuse from their fellow cadets.

“Bro, those girls were freaks.” Edrice sat in the hot tub with Ritch, Will, and Joel. “The one I ended up with had a boyfriend, bi, and he wanted to join in. I told him he could watch while I fucked his girl, but he couldn’t get in bed with us.” King smirked while the others groaned. Ritch already knew the man was both an exhibitionist and a voyeur. “We should have had Joel with us to keep him entertained.”

“If he’s hot, call me next time.” Joel’s comment was the last sexually tinged one, as Lucy and a female cadet joined the men.

The conversation had turned to the next ski outing when Jerome Baker showed up. “Simmons ordered me to come out here and talk to you about spring break.”

Ritch shook his head in disbelief. “That man needs to think more and talk less. I mentioned I wanted to talk to you about it”—Ritch cast a quick glance at the female cadet in their midst—“but I meant in private.”

“Don’t mind me, sir.” The woman grinned. “I wouldn’t be caught dead going on spring break with you guys. I wouldn’t trust myself.”

The men all shrugged. Ritch knew not one of them would make a suggestive comment around her. She might be one of the boys most of the time, but she was a woman. Ritch had learned his lesson and made sure those he led followed his approach. Respect.

“Okay, well, although Lucy’s break coincides with ours, she’s going to the Bahamas with a bunch of her girlfriends, and I’m not welcome. I can join The Wing this year.” Lucy nodded when he shot her a questioning look. “So, Baker, you ever been out to California? Wanna spend spring break in Malibu with us?”

“I…” Ritch stumbled, searching for the right words. He and Lucy sat at Starbucks inside the airport, enjoying a latte, before she flew back to Boston, and he returned to Colorado Springs. “I got you a little present.” He palmed the box he had carried in a pocket the entire weekend.

“You shouldn’t have, Ritch. You already paid for me to fly out here. You know I’m not impressed by you being wealthy.” Her comment harked back to a conversation years before; Lucy had told him all his money could not buy affection.

“It’s… it’s nothing expensive.” With a sweaty palm, he retrieved the box and placed it on the table. “Go ahead. Open it.”

Lucy untied the ribbon, lifted the lid, and smiled. “It’s beautiful. Thank you!” She lifted the sturdy white gold chain, unclasped it, and held it against her neck. “I’ll have to find a pretty charm for it.”

“Well… Since you’re skipping your own graduation, I thought, maybe, I could fly you to Colorado Springs for mine.” After the weekend, Lucy would return to Boston, finish the spring semester, work at a tech company over the summer, and start on her master’s degree in the fall. Bypassing her undergraduate commencement, Lucy planned to participate once she earned her advanced degree. “And you could put this on the chain until you return it to me when you come back.” Ritch removed his class ring and held it out to Lucy.

She smiled and quickly accepted.

CJ arrived in Colorado on Valentine’s Day, which in 2024 coincided with Ash Wednesday. Backpack slung over a shoulder, a garment bag held trailing over his back, and his chest covered by a myriad, colorful bead strings, he strutted through the terminal as if he owned the place. A full length, slate gray overcoat, a matching fedora, and dark sunglasses completed the ensemble.

The stares and smirks from fellow passengers may not have bothered him, but Ritch sighed. “Why me? Why can’t I have a normal brother?” One of his chuckling companions shoved him in the back.

CJ and Owen had spent the few days prior in New Orleans for Mardi Gras. That morning, they had said goodbye at the airport. While Owen returned to D.C. to relieve César and Brett of babysitting duties, CJ had flown to Colorado Springs.

“Dude, he looks like a pimp!” Edrice nearly doubled over laughing. “YO! CJ!”

“That’s your brother?” The wing commander sounded surprised. “Not what I imagined.”

“He’s not what anyone ever imagines. My brother’s smart and well spoken, but he has an evil streak. I’m sure he did this to embarrass me.”

“Bro!” CJ handed his garment bag and backpack to King. “Hold these, kid.” Most likely surprised he was being used as a porter or valet, Edrice took the proffered luggage without complaining. CJ wrapped Ritch in a hug.

“Dude, you reek of alcohol.” Ritch pushed his brother away.

“Yeah… We may have been up late partying last night, and I needed a hair of the dog this morning. Where’s baggage claim? I have one more piece.”

“Right this way, Mr. Abelló. If you’ll follow us…”

CJ raised his sunglasses and stared at the stranger. “Who are you?” Before the man could reply, CJ raised a hand to stop him. “No, never mind. You can introduce yourself later. I may forget your name right now.” He draped an arm around Ritch. “Did you drive? If we’re in Heinrich, you need to go through a Starbucks. I need more caffeine.”

A couple of hours after arriving, CJ had checked in, showered, and changed into jeans and a Georgetown sweatshirt. The overcoat draped over an arm, he waited for Ritch to take him to lunch.

“Where’s the other guy?” He asked when Ritch and Edrice showed up alone.

“He had shit to do, so you’re stuck with us. Bar food and beers work for you?” Ritch planned on taking him to Hap’s Place before their planned campus tour. He had checked with his superiors to ensure CJ had access to the entire Academy.

“Crap. I probably didn’t make a good first impression.”

Ritch gave him an annoyed stare. “Ya think?”

“You guys make sure I get to talk to him before I leave. And bar food sounds good, but I’ll skip the beers. I do have to talk to a couple of bigwigs at some point.”

CJ had been invited to speak at the Academy’s annual National Character and Leadership Symposium. The year’s theme was “Service to Your Country,” and he had extensively communicated with staff over the past couple of months. There was a reception that evening at the Falcon Club, but aside from the aforementioned conversations, the remainder of the day was his.

“I thought you guys had to march to lunch every day.” CJ had heard about the mid-day meal formation from Ritch his first year at the Academy.

“We normally do,” Edrice replied, since Ritch had shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. “But we’re excused today because of you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah… We were assigned to escort you around while you tour the campus.” Edrice gave him an evil grin. “Where would you like to start, Mr. Abelló?”

“Fuck you! The chapel, of course.”

“Duh! My brother’s fixation with architecture’s legendary, King.” Ritch slapped his fellow cadet’s back. “You have any idea the number of lectures about buildings and architects I’ve had to listen to whenever we traveled?”

“Asshole!”

Ritch and Edrice both chuckled.

“But I’ll admit those came handy the first time I went to New York. Okay, bro, the iconic signature building of the United States Air Force Academy was designed by Skidmore, Owings and Merril, and completed in 1962.”

CJ stopped in the middle of the path. “Thank you, Mr. Wikipedia. You’re such a dick, bro. I bet you memorized the damn entry so you could impress me.”

“Fine, fuckhead. You tell me what you know then.”

“No doubt the two of you are brothers. How about I share a few facts, and then you can hit me with questions?” King launched into his spiel as soon as CJ nodded. “Okayyy… The Cadet Chapel’s obviously the signature building on campus, although Polaris Hall gives it a run for its money.”

“That’s where I’m speaking tomorrow, right? The glass one that looks like a plane’s tail?” CJ threw a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the structure.

“Yep. Anyway, the chapel’s main space was built as a Protestant chapel. Below it, there’s a Catholic one, and I guess a Jewish temple. I’ve never been inside that one. There’s also a room for Buddhists. Below those three, there’s a space Muslims and several other faiths use.”

CJ obviously knew where he wanted to go. “I want to see them all. Let’s start with the Jewish chapel since you’ve never been in it.”

After touring the lower levels, Ritch led the way to the Protestant nave. “This blew my mind the first time I walked in here, CJ. The seventeen spires are 150 feet tall, and they’re all extruded aluminum and stained glass.” Ritch held the door open so his brother could walk inside.

“Wow! The pictures I’ve seen don’t do this place justice. You guys know why they closed it down for four years? It musta been a major rehab.”

“It was. They took it apart and put it back together. And all because of typical government snafus.” Ritch pointed at one of the aluminum pieces. “The original design called for twenty-one spires, but that was scaled back because of budget. They omitted gutters the design included for the same reason. So, fifty years later, they went back to install them because the leaks were getting worse and the main floor was being damaged.”

“That organ’s a work of art.” CJ pointed a thumb over his shoulder. When it came to buildings, he seemed to have 360 degree vision. “Can we go there?”

“Go for it bro. We were told to show you anything you wanted to see.” Ritch elbowed Edrice and winked. “Except for the locker rooms. They don’t want you molesting any of our football players.”

“Asshole.” CJ mumbled the word, but Ritch knew exactly what his brother had said.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

CJ shook his head but did not stop. “I’ll repeat it outside. I may not be religious, but I’m not about to shout what I said. It’s called respect, bro. Although, considering the evangelical proselytizing I’ve read about, maybe I shouldn’t bother being nice.”

The Academy had previously been embroiled in controversy due to the influence Evangelical Christians wielded. In the early years of the twenty-first century, a day before his graduation, the academy's top cadet had sent an e-mail containing Bible passages to thousands of his fellow students. Added to complaints Evangelicals seemed to have a hold on the school, and were trying to force their religion on others, it led to several investigations.

The Air Force’s attempt to expand inclusivity after the 2020 murder of George Floyd had ameliorated the problem. At least that’s what Ritch had mentioned.

“Either one of you had any more difficulties with the religious nuts?”

“Nope.” Ritch may have been unwilling to share further details, but Edrice was ready to jump in.

“Bro, after your little brother jumped all over that one minister, it got better.”

Upon his promotion to Squadron Commander, a chaplain had chastised Ritch for not attending weekly services and demanded he start doing so. Ritch had politely told the man to fuck off. Channeling CJ, Ritch had quoted the First Amendment to the Constitution. He had further told the man if he continued harassing him, he would file a lawsuit, and take it all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. The cleric had backed off.

Ritch knew his brother was more interested in his surroundings than in the long-winded introduction by the conference’s head. How could he not, when Ritch himself was fascinated by the structure, even though he was not an architecture freak like CJ. From the outside, the Center for Character and Leadership Development’s 105-foot glass-enclosed tower looked like a vertical stabilizer.

“Please help me welcome Mr. César Abelló, Jr. to the United States Air Force Academy.” Warm applause followed. Ritch did not miss it was a tad louder and more enthusiastic from wherever a member of The Wing sat.

“Thank you. I’m delighted to finally make it to your gorgeous campus. However, if during today’s question and answer period, or tomorrow’s breakout sessions, any of you dare call me César instead of CJ, I foresee a SAM striking you between the eyes.”

The laughter was loud and enthusiastic. Ritch was certain the catcalls came from his friends. It was fascinating hearing CJ open with a joke, practicing the advice he repeated whenever Ritch sought public speaking guidance.

“By accepting your appointment to the Academy, all of you committed to serving in the Air Force following graduation. For some of you, it’ll be for the minimum amount of time required. Others will make the military a life-long career. In either case, you’ll be serving your country and by default all Americans.”

Turning on the wireless microphone, CJ moved away from the podium. “And that is the subject of this year’s conference: Service to America in Peace and War.” The seamless blending of personal vignettes, historical facts and figures, and lighthearted moments had most everyone paying rapt attention.

Ritch felt the standing ovation at the conclusion was well deserved. His brother was a hell of a motivational speaker. Hell, he was a damn good orator. Period. When questioning was allowed, he was not surprised with who first raised a hand.

“Cadet Major Edrice King, Mr. Abelló. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences. Do you consider your involvement with Constitutional Challenge part of your personal commitment to service to our country?”

CJ smirked. “Obviously, someone wants to show off. You already know the answer, Ed. Of course it is.” CJ walked closer to the edge of the stage. “In case you haven’t figured it out, Cadet King and I know each other. He was at a fundraising event at my home this past New Year’s Eve for the organization he referred to.

“Allow me to backtrack. In the fall of 2020, I was appalled by President Trump’s attempt to subvert our democracy. His desire to remain in office after losing the election, smacked of a banana republic dictator.” Muted grumblings from several attendees gave credence to reports many service members sympathized with the rioters. “Support to overturn the results, by followers and elected officials, exacerbated my disgust. It felt as if everyone was using the Constitution to support their claims, but very few knew what they were talking about.

“With time on my hands after returning to the United States”—the comment drew chuckles, as CJ had already gone through a litany of his current commitments—“I decided to do something about it. Thus Constitutional Challenge, a non-for-profit organization dedicated to improving knowledge of our constitution, was born.”

The questioning, about his views and experiences, continued unabated until it was time for the next presenter. Not because he was his brother, but because he was so much more interesting and engaging than the subsequent act, Ritch wished CJ would have been able to remain on stage longer.