Adventures of the Last Crusader – VII

“Flight Lieutenant Jona reporting for duty, Sir!” he roared, hoping to be heard amid the din of an active airbase.

Today he completed 2 months at the Ascension Island Base, a RAF station on the isolated volcanic island in the south of Atlantic Ocean.

“You are going to Africa?!” Aria had screeched in surprise, when he had informed her of his latest posting.

“It’s not Africa, hon,” he drawled with a smile.

“It’s almost as far, right?” she had snapped back with that fire in her eyes; the kinds he loved to see.



Aria Hemming.

He sighed as he whispered her name, relishing every word as it slipped his breath.

But things now weren’t as rosy as he would have liked them to be.

Aria and he had been having way too many arguments off late. The silences between them were fast crossing over from being comfortable and cherished to being painfully prickly.

Once an argument started, it assumed a life of its own and branched into every possible area of their joint existence.

It all began with his first long-term posting out of Britain. Aria took it in her stride, happily sending him off, writing to him regularly when accessing the internet became a rarity at the base.

Just a couple of months back in London and he was handed another outstation command. And then another.

This was his fourth foreign commission and J could sense the almost palpable tension emanating off Aria, as she slowly paced up and down the carpeted floor of the hall of the two-bedroom apartment they shared.

Her soft hair was held up loosely by a buckle, with some stubborn tendrils having escaped down the nape and the side of her neck. She was wearing a worn-out pink tee with white linen drawstring pajama bottoms.

All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and tell her that they will be fine.

But he knew better.

Aria was a woman of extremes.

While she could be extremely pliant, generous and patient; an extremely stubborn and passionate side of her lay in store for those who crossed the line.

“Hey! Please don’t go all silent on me,” J muttered as he nervously tried to take her in his arms from behind. To his relief, she let him.

“You know how much I love to hear my baby chatter day in and day out,” he said laughingly; his tone emboldened as he felt her melting just a bit in his embrace.

“You know something J?” she began as he gently kissed her neck.

“What?” he asked.

“I love you more than myself. But one of these days I am bound to get tired of waiting.”


The knock on the door got more persistent, as he lifted his head off the bed to give it an ear.

“Housekeeping!” a male voice sounded from the other end.

Syria, Damascus, Umayad, The Old Vine.  It all came rushing back as J hauled himself back from the then to the now.

To be continued…


~ by eugenicist on February 13, 2013.

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