Commandants Own

CHAPTER 1~ FOLLOW ME

I shoved the last few items into my overstuffed rucksack, hearing moms voice in my head as I did.

"Don't make mistakes you can't handle watching your little sister repeat," her aggravated voice told me.

I instantly questioned if I was making one of those mistakes now.

Lately, I heard her trinkets of wisdom at every turn.

"She looks ups to you, Gwen. Whatever you do, Mia will surely follow."

That one was a phrase she used regularly after she caught me and Mia sneaking back in from toilet-papering Grace Mosier's yard. Grace should have been classified as a terrorist. She was Mia's fifth-grade nemesis who always managed to get her alone in low-trafficked corners to shake her down for her homework. Being five years older than Mia, I was expected to set a stellar example. It was well worth the scolding when we passed by Grace's house the next morning and saw her cleaning up our handy work. Mia waved as mom drove by. Grace wasn't a problem after that.

     It felt like a strange memory to have at that moment. It was among the many forgotten stories of our relatively functional childhood that had surfaced in the last few weeks.
Glancing over my shoulder, I said a silent goodbye to the base I called home for the last two years and climbed the loading ramp on the back of a C-130. With each step, I felt more certain of my choice to transition to my sister's last command.
I made my way through the aisles of strapped-down munitions cargo that would be my companion for the flight from Camp Lejeune to MCAS Miramar. I hung my garment bag and dropped my rucksack in the space next to me as I settled into the cargo-net seat.

"Ma'am, the crew'll be ready to roll out in a few." I looked up at the young Corporal whose flight suit looked to have never made an acquaintance with a hanger. "ETA Miramar, sixteen-hundred hours."

"Thank you," I heard my flat voice reply.

     I was flying what is referred to as a "Space-A", or a space available flight. One of the perks of Marine Corps life was free travel to anywhere a cargo plane was headed, provided of course you're not particular to sharing company with explosives or grunts. Today, I was the only passenger.

My mom was right about Mia being my little shadow. Since she started walking, she matched me step for step. When she was about six, everything she did got bigger and better. If I fell roller skating and scraped my knees, Mia jumped from a tree and broke her arm. I took piano lessons in grade school to placate my mom, Mia was the only 6th-grader to ever play quads on the drum line at varsity football games.

     It had been unseasonably warm for the Carolina's up until a few days ago. Now, Autumn was officially making her presence known. I dug into my bag to pull another sweat shirt from it and felt the soft leather of Mia's journal underneath. I paused, contemplating reading it during the flight, but my fingers rejected the command to retrieve it. It was like they knew my heart couldn't take it just yet. So, I took only the sweat shirt from the bag and slipped it over the one I was already wearing, knowing that the temperature would soon drop in the belly of the plane.

Mia was fiercely competitive; it was how she was built. I recognized early on that she would surpass me–that she was destined for a greatness beyond my abilities. So, instead of vying for position or attention, I made it my mission to set the bar as high as I could. She never quit and she never failed to rise to a challenge. I was always in awe of her relentless perseverance.

I smiled at the memory and shut my eyes tight, willing my mind into silence. I had hoped to sleep as much as I could for the six-and-a-half-hour flight, but the solitude only prompted more memories.