Jenny in the Sky

Boredom

A few days stretched by, each as lazy and uninteresting as the previous one. Jenny spent much of her time in her room. It was too cold to be outside most of the time, and she wasn't allowed in many other places. Nicolaus had given her some paper to doodle on and a few German storybooks with pictures she flicked through. She avoided other people as much as she could, preferring to go to the dining hall when she knew the men were on duty or it wasn't a peak meal time. Still, she'd hadn't been able to completely escape others. Roland had passed her in the corridors, but only glanced at her before moving on. Nickolaus sometimes spoke to her, or made a passing comment, but Jenny could tell he wasn't supposed to.

During one of the days, when the wind had died down, and the sun came peeking out in a typical shy, spring fashion, Jenny had bundled herself in a large coat, and sat down outside to watch the planes taking off. The models were foreign and strange, but she could notice similarities between them and the ones back home. Since she had arrived, there hadn't been any fights planned or received, which she was secretly grateful for. It was hard enough watching the ones she cared about back home die, but it would be even harder seeing these men die, when she knew and loved those responsible for it.

She was interrupted from her daydream by the sound of footsteps nearby. Roland stood to her right, and he moved the crutches leaning on the wall to the side and slid down beside her. From his pocket he pulled out a packet of cigarettes, and offered it to her.

"No thanks," she said, shaking her head.

The man lit one himself and inhaled it, leaning back with his head resting on the wall as they both watched the planes.

"Ich werde in einer Stunde fliegen," he said, glancing at his watch.

"Hmm?" Jenny replied. He repeated the phrase, gesturing to himself, then to the planes, and then to his watch, pointing at the next hour along.

"You're flying in an hour?" Jenny asked. Roland smiled and shrugged, not understanding.

"Good luck" she said, begrudgingly.

He grinned, and seemed to remember something. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a book, handing it to Jenny. It was paper backed and yellowed, but the title was in English.

"Garden herbs and their uses" Jenny read out "Handy."

She turned to Roland, and grinned. There weren't any pictures on the cover to suggest what the book was about, and she suspected he had no idea.

"Danke" she said, and the man returned the grin. A group of pilots walked by, and shouted something. Roland laughed, and jogged over to them, joining the group as they went inside.

The wind picked up and scattered over the pages. Jenny skipped over the book, and sighed. There wasn't anything particularly interesting about it at all. Most of the pages were filled with sketchy diagrams of plants and blocks of unengaging text, English though it was. Still, she appreciated the sentiment. She slipped the book into her pocket, and grasped the crutches to pull herself up. Slowly, painfully, she made her way over to the sheds where men were bustling in and out, preparing aircraft and shouting commands. Few took any notice of her, and she found it surprisingly easy, even with her impaired mobility, to slip into one of the sheds and observe the plane there. It was grey and sleek, the design both familiar and foreign, and Jenny ran a hand down the metallic body. A wave of nostalgia hit her, as she took in each bolt, each lick of paint, each sheet of steel curved to exact proportions.

The rattle of wheels on floor alerted her to the presence of someone else. A man lay underneath the aircraft, attending to the underbody. He said something in quick German without looking up, and gestured with his hand as if asking for something. Jenny looked round. Nobody else was there.