While James had taken days to write it, it would take even longer to get it into Mikee's hands. The days at the academy were long, but Mikee worked with them. He got his stuff done on time, asked for help, and became vocal about what he needed. He was getting good marks, and that's all he cared about. A's and B's, that's all he needed. He ate well, worked hard and reached for the sky.
It was sometime in May when Mikee had to take his Captain's Test. He had been at the academy for two months, and he would be getting his mail soon. If people aced the Captain's Test, they were rewarded highly with food, money, contraband (as in Nerds, Chocolate, Girl-scout Cookies...) and a plethora of other items, including getting mail atleast four months early. Mikee didn't know how many letters he had, but he hoped to get some from James.
Within the two months he had been at the academy, he had waited for James. He never went out with anyone, never hooked up, never even thought about anyone. It was just James. Mikee only liked James. He missed him dearly, but Mikee would try his damndest to get to him during Christmas. As Mikee stood at attention to the Captain, they assigned flight numbers to everyone.
Mikee got flight number three. He was sent to station three, and stood at attention, with his eyes bright and his heart ready. Within the two months, Mikee put on some build. He was stronger, faster, fitter. He was atleast a good twenty pounds heavier, and he felt like he could take down the entire world. He even had to get a uniform change because he was making so much improvement! He had grown two inches, and all traces of his dyed hair was gone.
Mikee stood before a large metal box, with a platform under it and something that resembled a lift. It was a testing station, a simulation of what it would be like to fly in a plane, and if Mikee passed this test, he could fly one for real. When they called Mikee's number, Mikee shouted a "SIR, YES SIR!" And his captain told him to ease. He stood rigid, still giving him his attention. Soon, the doors were open, and Mikee was strapped in.
It looked like a plane from the inside. It felt like a plane. It smelled like one, and it made Mikee feel comfortable almost instantly. He was buckled in four times, and given a list of things he had to do in order to pass, and Mikee knew how to do each and every one of them. The captain exited the large box, and sealed him in. Mikee pulled on a helmet, and thought gently of James.
He took a deep breath, and pressed start.
He had to Pitchback, High G-Barrel Roll, Chandelle, Pugachev's Cobra and everything else in the book. He got an excellent or perfect on each and every one, and so far had a 497/500. All he had to do now was get a 100 on his obstacle test, and he would pass with flying colors. Mikee cracked his fingers, and pressed start, and was instantly confused.
There was a flashing on the screen that said "BARREL LEFT ON BLUE". But... there was no blue. It was green. Mikee hesitated, and went right. There was a giant red X on the screen, alerting that Mikee made a mistake. He grunted, and pushed on. "QUARTER-TURN ON BLUE, RIGHT TURN ON GREEN, LEFT TURN ON RED." Red... Green and blue? Red usually meant green, but green looked like green on this test. What came after green? Yellow?
After about fifteen minuets of this, Mikee was exited from the test, feeling very anxious about the results. He was dismissed to lunch, and the Captain said he would give him his results once role-call was over with that night. Mikee went to lunch as he did so, went to the rest of his classes and went to his role. But after the call, they simply asked for his number.
Why?
"1-0-6-4-2, SIR." Mikee called, standing at salute. The captain waved him to ease, and Mikee did so, standing anxiously. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Aye..."
"Permission to ask what for, sir?"
The man looked down at the boy in uniform. "Are you an idiot?"
Mikee made a face. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me, boy. Are you a moron, or something? Because this test here is by far one of the worst I have seen in all of my twenty-years of service."
Mikee's heart dropped. "I-I,"
"No, no, I didn't give you permission to speak. What we have here is a mockery of what I trained for, and a disappointment to this Academy. How long are you enrolled for, son?"
"A-Auh... College, and-and beyond, sir."
"Hah, you're funny, now tell me the truth."
"Sir, I am--"
The man made a face. "Not with this score, you're not. Now tell me, how could you get a damn-near perfect score for the training, but totally biff the obstacle test?"
Mikee picked at the skin around his nails. "I-I,"
"T-T-T-TODAY, boy." The Captain mocked.
Mikee swallowed hard. "I didn't see green. Or blue. Or red. The colored I did see, though... I-I got those right."
"What do you mean, you didn't see them?"
"They-They didn't show up! They asked for Red Left-Turn, and I didn't see red, so I turned right. I was suppose to do that, right? That's what they told us during seminar, right?"
The man was quiet for a moment, before he looked at the papers and the boy. "What colors did you see?"
"G-Green, sir."
"Green?"
"And yellow, sir."
"Green and yellow?"
"Sir."
The captain rubbed his eyes, and dismissed the boy, but to the nurse. Not to his dorm. Mikee, once addressed to the nurses office, instantly asked what was wrong with himself. The nurse gave him an eye exam, and asked what he thought he was there for. Mikee said there must have been something wrong with his Captain's test, because he failed it. Mikee had 20/20 vision, but when they gave him a color test, that was where the trouble was.
Mikee was in the nurses office for a solid thirty minuets before he got the results back. And when he got them, Mikee couldn't believe it.
"1-0-6-4-2-- Er, Mikee..." Mikee knew instantly that something was wrong. They hardly addressed you by your first name, let alone a nick-name. The nurse went on. "I'm afraid that you have Tritanomaly in both eyes, which is affecting your sight."
"... But you just said I had 20/20 vision--"
"Your sight of color, Mikee."
Mikee shook his head. "I don't believe you," Mikee stood up. "I-I don't understand. That test was rigged-- It's the machines fault, I mean-- I-I passed the maneuvering test. I got an A! I almost got 500/500!!"
"Mikee, look, I know this can be hard, but--"
"What are you trying to tell me?"
The nurse was silent. "I'm trying to tell you that you're color-blind. I'm trying to tell you that you can't fly."
Mikee's heart broke almost instantly. "What do you mean, I can't fly?"
"I mean, you can't fly." The nurse said slowly, as if Mikee was an idiot. He surely felt like one.
"I took all the courses, I've been here for atleast six summers, I've been to all the camps, I can fly. This is a waste of my time, I-I want to talk to my Captain."
The nurse nodded him out, and Mikee ran to Mister McCoy, but he had already gotten the news. Mikee knocked twice on his office door, saluted him, and started giving his numbers."1-0-6-4-2, SI--"
"At ease,"
Mikee went over, and sat on a chair near the large table. "I would like to request that I retake my Captain's Test, sir. I have reason to believe that it was... malfunctioning."
The captain looked over a piece of paper, and back at Mikee. "You went to the nurse, yes?"
"What does that have to do with the--"
"You went to the nurse, boy? I won't ask again."
Mikee nodded nervously. "I did sir, but what does that have to--"
"She told you then?"
"Well, yes, but I know better than to believe that, sir. I aced the first portion of the test."
"I can see that, yes,"
"And if I can do outstanding on such a hard course, but ruin myself for the second portion, doesn't that mean there is a fluke in the system?"
The man stood up, and rubbed his eyes. "Mister P'Traciss, how do you feel about being a mechanic?"
Mikee made a face. "A mechanic?" He shook his head. "No, no, I want to be a pilot. I want to fly planes, not build them."
"Well, now that isn't an option."
Mikee stood up quickly. "What the hell do you mean, 'it isn't an option'?"
"You can't fly."
"Is it because I failed my test? Because that wasn't my fault! The colors didn't show up, the machine is wrecked! It made me fail!"
"It's because you're legally blind, Mikee. Legally, I'm not even allowed to have you on this campus. Legally, you shouldn't be driving, or even TAKING the Captain's Test. I'm sorry Mikee, but I either have to let you go, or let you be a mechanic."
Mikee continued on his rant for another twenty minuets, before his Captain blew up back at him. He yelled, he screamed, he threatened to kick him out of the Adacemy. Mikee had no choice; he dropped all his current classes, and took Mechanic ones. He was landlocked. Mikee tried yelling again, but Mister McCoy threw him a box of crayons.
"IF and only IF you can tell me the correct colors of these, and describe them to me in full detail, I will let you back into the program. Until then, you will be assigned to the East portion of the Academy."
Mikee stormed out, and headed down the hall. Once he managed to get into his dorm, he saw that there was a notice for his transfer. Mikee crumpled it up wickedly, and sat at his desk. Because there was a notice for his leave, he had gotten his mail. He tried to calm himself down by reading the letters, and as he did, he found James'.
It made his heart swell, and he couldn't open it fast enough. But when he read it, he felt as if this was just a game with them all. They were all joking around with him, because he was 'blind'. What a load of bullshit! Mikee looked at the ticket, and thought instantly that it was a fake, too... But it looked exactly like his own ticket, from when he came to the Academy. Mikee kept it in his wallet, for when he did plan to go to Paris. What a load of shit...
Mikee took out the crayons, and poured them on his desk. He got a piece of scratch paper, and started writing about the colors. He felt childish, using a crayon to write. He felt like a child, being bullied into believing what he didn't have to. It was a load of shit! Mikee got all the colors, and began writing James a letter in Crayola.
James,
I think the Academy is going to be the death of me. The days are hot and the nights are cold, and the skies are this color. They're going to transfer me-- can you believe that? They're switching all my classes to mechanic classes, and it makes he feel like this. I can't believe their doing this to me. Can you? They're telling me that I'm colorblind, and that I can't fly because I'm
"Legally Blind".
Legally blind my ass... My new assignment is to tell them about these colors, so I figured I might as well write with them. It's so stupid. They're even kicking me out of my dorms! I'm so mad... I miss you so much
I'm glad you and my mom are getting along. She's the best. And don't let her show you any more pictures. I WAS A DISGUSTING BABY. I'm sorry you hate me but actually like me, James. Atleast I have that to look forward to, now. Your hate-like is rekindling my hate-like for you too.
I have a hard time believing that you did get into a crash, though. And lost your leg? Funny funny, Mister Pirate Man. I can believe the crash part, with how reckless of a driver you are. Do you need a parrot to complete the look?
Love,
Mikee.
P.S. I never lied about liking you, James. I really really really like you. Really really really really really... you get the point.
P.P.S If the ticket is real, we can go together. I'm keeping it in my wallet. I've been lied to all day, I don't want to throw away the single truth I don't believe.
P.P.P.S I've been waiting for you for the past months. I won't say so soon, but I haven't kissed anyone in so long. I miss you.
P.P.P.P... YOU GET THE IDEA.... I'll try and make it home for Christmas, assuming this letter gets there by then and that I don't manage to die between then and now. And assuming you didn't replace me.
Mikee put the colors away, packed up his stuff, and turned to head to the post office. He was almost home free, until one of the Captains forced him to pack everything up and move dorms. Mikee had a few choice words for him, but did as he was commanded.
Within the time that the boy was gone, back at home, two boys managed to cook something up. The end of the year was moving quickly, and with that came Prom. Florence, with Nate by his side, sat in the beat-up car with no one other than themselves. Florence and Nate were stuck at a red-light, and Florence thought it was the perfect time to confess something to the other boy.
Florence turned down the music, and looked to Nate.
He looked at him for a solid minuet before he let out a long sigh. He gasped for air, and spoke as quickly as he could. "HeyNatedoyouknowhowwe'vebeenfriendsforalongtime?WellIdon'tknowifyouknowbutIknowthatweshouldprobablymaybeifyou'retotallyuptoitgotoPromtogethermaybeifyouwanttobecauseIreallywanttogo.Mostlywithyoubutifyoudon'twanttogowithmeItotallyunderstandit'sallcoolbutIjustreallylikeyouandthinkthatwewouldbecutetogetherasadatebecause--"
There was a loud honk by the car behind Florence. He turned on the music loudly, blushed as red as his hair, and stepped on the gas.
