Free A Voice In The Night by Brian Matthews Page B

back to this nighttime radio show originating from San Diego, whose host now seemed to be saying, in a compellingly direct way, that he had been chosen to tell them about a new way of being.
    Jake eventual whispered into Luke’s headset that he had pilot Bill Flowers on the line and that he was ready to go. Flowers was uneasy. He regretted that he’d agreed to this, that he hadn’t checked in with Eastern’s PR department before saying yes. The airline was touchy, at best, on the subject of turbulence, emergencies and terrified passengers. Flowers knew if he asked for permission to go on the air it would be denied. But as a captain and as someone that the media had taken to for his candor, he had a certain amount of leeway with management. He had decided to listen to Luke’s show for a while, in preparation for his interview. In the comfortable surroundings of his den at home, with its pictures of planes he’d flown and buddies from the long-ago war; he felt a calm come over him from the voice on the radio. It was not unlike the feeling that he had on missions, so long ago, just after he had lifted off the carrier’s deck.
    Feeling good had eluded Bill in recent months.
    In the last year, he had stopped feeling still young enough to have possibilities before him. With the passing of his last birthday, he suddenly thought of himself as old. He no longer saw the potential for adventure or the kind of love he had longed for, but never found. Over time, Flowers had witnessed the slow erosion of his belief that the future held something other than more of the sad sameness that was his life. The central fact of existence was his searing loneliness and this slide into autumn. Now, listening to Luke, he sensed the return of belief.

Chapter 17
    Flowers joined Luke by telephone hookup and told the story of the flight. He talked at length about the way he’d felt in the light. The tale came out easily, without caution or doubt. Listeners were struck by his quiet authority, but more so, by his new-found enthusiasm for the future.
    After signoff, Luke and Jake left by the usual back door, noticing a disconcerting lack of a crowd. Only the limousine and driver awaited them and the security gates were curiously open. The driver usually tensed up for running the gauntlet of onlookers turned to them when they slid inside. His face was jubilant, oddly out of place on the hard-boiled, retired cop. “People aren’t gonna be a bother anymore. Everything’s changed now.” He turned and started to drive and Luke studied the man’s reflection in the rear view mirror.
    “Did you listen to the show tonight?”
    He answered Luke through the reflection. “I didn’t have to. Everybody just knows, now, everybody.” Luke saw what the driver meant on the ride home. People gathered in small groups everywhere, talking in friendly clusters, connecting with neighbors that they had never talked to, until tonight. They no longer were wary of the somewhat unknown, because there were no unknowns. Eileen was in a group of neighbors when he pulled up outside the house. Jeremy was sleeping in her arms and she smiled at Luke the way she had in those innocent days back in Connecticut.
    That was it. The return of innocence. He saw it now on all the faces. But as he looked at them, his new, deeper awareness showed him more. It was the removal of the weight of guilt and the healing of all their own small tragedies. They looked now only toward tomorrow, released from their pasts and any ambiguity about the future.
    He walked up and put his arm around her shoulders, steering her lightly toward the house as they nodded goodnight to the neighbors. ”When’s our fence coming down?”
    “The men are coming tomorrow, early. Said it’ll take most of the day.” Luke felt a surge of happiness spreading through him from this sharing of domestic detail. Life felt suddenly normal again, even in the midst of momentous change. The essential part of his perfect world