The Stone Frigate by Kate Armstrong

Author:Kate Armstrong
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2019-03-01T16:00:00+00:00

The next day, a manila envelope arrived for me in the wing mail. My hands trembled as I opened it. He had gorgeous cursive handwriting.

K.

I can’t stop thinking of you.

E.

I had never cared much about wing mail. Outside of my performing the first-year squadron runner duty, the mail hadn’t really factored into my day-to-day life. That all changed with my simple reply.

E.

Me too.

K.

This was the beginning of our correspondence. I became mail obsessed. Our notes contained questions for one another, snippets of poetry, quotes, cards, cartoons cut from the local paper, and details like what time we were going to be at the dining hall at the next meal. We carefully cloaked any open declarations of affection and rarely saw one another in person, though I was constantly on the watch to catch glimpses of him. Now I went to school as if seeing Eddie, even from afar, was the only real reason to go. Every day I hoped to arrive at dinner at the same time and to eat at the same table — that was the extent of our physical contact. When I had the rare chance to sit beside him, the space between us felt charged with the mingling of our vibrations. I would soak in his presence and later replay our interactions over and over in my mind. For over a month, we had nearly daily contact by mail but rarely ever saw each other in person or spoke to each other. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about him constantly.

One evening during study hours, in early March, Fitzroy knocked on my door. “Armstrong! Phone!”

“Who is it?” I asked, stupidly, of his retreating back.

“How the hell should I know?” he said. I ran past him on the stairs.

“Stone Frigate. First Year Armstrong speaking.”

“Can you talk?” Eddie asked.

“Hey, Dad!” I exclaimed. “Is everything okay?”

“Never better. I’m crazy about you.” He gave me a phone number to call.

“I’ll call you back,” I said. I ran downstairs to the phones in the gunroom.

“Sorry to drag you away from your books,” he said, “but I had to tell you I love you.”

“I love you, too.” My heart pounded against my ribs. It seemed crazy to say it after so little time together, but I meant it with my whole being. We talked on the phone for nearly an hour. After that first call, we arranged call times through the wing mail and sent fewer risky notes.

One day, Luka left a message on my desk asking me to come to his room. He was more solemn than usual. I sat down on his bed.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he asked.

I shrugged, shook my head in bewilderment, and didn’t say anything.

“Eddie Byrne?” he added eventually.

“What about him?” I asked warily.

“Are you dating him?” he asked. He knows. They were classmates in mechanical engineering.

“No,” I replied. Technically, this was true. We had an intention to date. “Why do you ask?”

“He will land you in the worst kind of trouble. I asked because two pieces of information came to me today and I connected the dots.

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