her bag away, and sat down next to me. Her rank appeared to me to be light colonel. She looked very familiar also.
Once she was settled in her seat she finally gave me the cordial 'hello' that you give the person sitting next to you in an airplane. I returned the 'hello' and went back to my beer and chess game. The flight attendant wandered by and asked if I needed anything and told me that I had to turn off my computer for departure. I closed the laptop and replied that I could use another drink. Like I said, I never drink while flying.
By the time we leveled off at twenty-eight thousand feet out of Louisville, it was time to find the lavatory. The captain didn't turn off the seatbelt light a second too soon. I slowly made it up and by the 'Colonel' and found the restroom. If you ever try to use a bathroom on a commercial aircraft I suggest that you don't do it with two broken and three separated ribs. Each tiny pocket of turbulence I could feel travel up through my leg bones into my torso and finally my ribs. The three beers didn't help either.
I finally gathered my wits and felt my way back to my seat. This time I noticed the wings on the colonel's shoulder and realized where I had seen her before. She looked different with her red hair in a ponytail rather than floating around her on the International Space Station (ISS). She was an astronaut and I had seen her on television. In fact, according to the show I'd seen she had more space hours than any other female astronaut in history.
I said, 'Excuse me,' to her as I sat down. I got myself settled and then pressed the service button. When the flight attendant returned I asked for my fourth beer. Just as she turned to leave I sneezed. If you have ever had broken ribs you know this is not a good thing to do. I think I already mentioned that.
'Oh shit!' I clutched my side and swallowed back tears.
'Are you okay?' the colonel asked.
'Uh, yeah. I've got a couple of busted ribs and that sneeze suck . . . uh, hurt.' The pain began to dissipate and hopefully, so did the grimace on my face.
'I see,' she said. 'This may seem a little strange but you look familiar to me.'
I laughed and clutched my side. 'That's funny. I was thinking the same thing. You are Colonel Ames, right? The female astronaut with the most hours in space?'
She smiled and presented her right hand. 'Tabitha Ames. It's nice to meet you.'
I reciprocated with, 'Neil Anson Clemons. Friends call me Anson.'
'I thought I recognized you,' she said. 'Didn't you give the talk on the modified Alcubierre warp drive at the Advanced Propulsion Workshop at NASA Marshall Space Flight Center last summer?'
'Well,' I replied. 'There were about four or five talks on warp theory last year, but I did give one of them. Are you going to the Breakthrough Physics thing?'
'Yes. In fact I'll probably be a lot more involved with that program in the future,' she said and looked at me speculatively. I had no idea what she meant by that. I didn't really care since the attendant finally returned with my beer. Colonel Ames surprised me and asked for one too.
'Can you drink on duty?' I asked.
'Who says I'm on duty?' she retorted in a mind-your-own-business way.
'Oh,' I said as if I'd been scolded. I'm not sure what it was but Colonel Ames has this air about her that she's the boss no matter who's in the room. The simple inflections in her voice are enough to make you feel good or bad, it just depends how she means it. Some people have this talent. Myself, I just trip and fumble over my heavy north Alabama accent and hope people at least understand what I'm trying to say. Then I usually throw in a 'Well, Haiyul far! I just made all that sheyut up. It's probably all wrong' just to cover my ass. For some reason people believe if you talk with a Southern accent you're an idiot. Let 'em keep thinkin' that.
With both feet in my mouth, I asked, 'Don't you astronauts usually fly trainers wherever you are going?'
'I have too many hours this week so it was either second seat or commercial,' she replied.
'I see. You know I have put in an astronaut application each open time since 1999 and never once even got an interview. What's the trick?' I asked jokingly.
'Well, for a mission specialist I guess the trick is to come up with an experiment that has to be done in space that only you can do.' She pursed her lips as if in thought, then replied, 'You've only been trying for ten years?'
I nodded yes.
'Don't give up.' She smiled at me and I felt like I could do anything. Some people just have the ability to inspire confidence. Colonel Ames definitely inspired something in me.
'If I may ask, why and for how long have you been so interested in space flight anyway?' She smiled and shrugged at me.
'Don't mind you askin' at all. I don't really know a date exactly but it is all I've ever wanted to do. My mom tells me it is because I'm destined to it.' I replied.
'Destined to it?' Colonel Ames asked.
'Oh, yeah that's a neat story. You see I was born at the exact instant that the Lunar Excursion Module of Apollo 11 touched down on the moon. I'm certain thousands, heck maybe more, babies were born at that instant, but it must be destiny according to Mom. You know how mothers can be,' I explained and kind of laughed.
She just nodded as if she understood. Then the plane rocked swiftly from turbulence and I grimaced in pain and held my side. She noticed.
'If you don't mind my asking, how'd you hurt yourself?' She seemed sincere and looked concerned. Then is when I realized her eyes were brown. I think that's common for redheads, or is it green?
'Well, I was in the International Sport Karate Association Championship yesterday. I left my right elbow up when it should've been down.' I made a motion like a right backfist showing how it leaves your ribs open, and I placed my left hand on my right side. 'I caught a side kick full-bore right here. I still won though!' I couldn't tell if she was impressed or not.
'So you do karate to stay fit?' she asked.
