Jenny in the Sky

The New Recruit

Christmas that year wasn't Christmas.

Jenny's mother was a down-to-earth type, who didn't usually get bogged down with emotions, but the death of her husband broke her. She sat in front of the fire for a week, never taking her eyes off the swirling flames.There was to be no Christmas dinner. The tree was never put up. The stockings lay neglected.

On Christmas Day, Jenny cycled to the air station to escape the empty atmosphere of home. As most of the pilots had not been granted leave, they sat chatting and laughing in the canteen. Normally Jenny would pop in to say hello, but today she walked right past. She went into the large garages housing the aircraft, and grabbed her toolbox. There was nothing like an hour of tinkering to clear her mind.

Suddenly, there came a sniffle.

Jenny turned around. At first, she couldn't see anyone, but then the sniffle came again. There was someone in the corner. It was a boy, swathed in RAF uniform, crying quietly into his hands. She stared curiously. She had seen men cry, but never as feeble as this.

The boy looked up. His eyes were red and blotchy, and he coulnd't have been much older than eighteen. That, plus his sizes-too-big uniform and tear stained face made him look about twelve.

Jenny felt a surge of pity for this pathetic figure. She walked over and knelt beside him, eyes flickering over his face. The boy seemed to realize he had just been caught crying by a strange girl, and turned beetroot red. He wiped his tears and snot off with his sleeve, much to Jenny's inwards disgust, and looked at the floor in embarrassment.

"I'm Jenny," she said, to break the silence, "I work here, fixing planes and such. I say work, it's not like I get paid. I'm only allowed here because my dad-" she stopped and looked away. They sat in silence for quite some time. Jenny fiddled with a screw, the boy sniffed continuously. Eventually, the village clock chimed in the distance. Jenny got up to go.

"Nemo. My name's Nemo."

She turned around, and smiled.

"Well then. Nice to meet you, Nemo."

It was only later when it occurred to her.

Nemo.

It meant no one.

It was Boxing Day, and Jenny was hunched over a map of Europe, sticking pins into random countries and making up flight commands. The door clicked open. She looked up. Nemo was standing at the door. It was the first time she had seen him without tear trails, and she was surprised at how different he looked. Someone had given him a smaller uniform and his brown hair was neatly parted to the side. Overall, he looked much more put together. Jenny couldn't help thinking how her friends would describe him as handsome, if perhaps they ignored the slightly prominent nose.

He came over and sat across from her.

"I just want to say," he said, "Thank you. For yesterday."

Jenny blinked.

"I didn't do anything." she said in surprise.

"You didn't laugh. I was pathetic, sobbing like that, and I'm ashamed of myself. Men don't cry."

"The men here cry," said Jenny. Nemo looked at her.

"Not in public of corse," she went on, " but you can always tell when they do. It's normal. You wouldn't cry in front of the others, or they would call you a baby, or a coward. But sometimes you see people with red eyes. It's the line of work. It gets to some people."

Nemo still looked unsure.

"We can pretend it didn't happen, if you like," she offered. Nemo nodded.

"Please don't mention this to anyone." he asked.

"My lips are sealed."

He smiled, and stood up.

"I was wondering if you wanted to help me with one of the planes. I gave it a test drive this morning, and I'm pretty sure one of the engines was faulty." he asked, tentatively.

Jenny lit up. It wasn't often the boys asked for her help. They found it embarrassing to be helped by a girl.

"I'd love to."