As Wings Unfurl by Arthur M Doweyko

Author:Arthur M Doweyko [Doweyko, Arthur M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781940215778
Publisher: Red Adept Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-07-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Apple hadn’t enjoyed a sumptuous breakfast in a quite a while. In fact, he did not remember ever having had such a feast. He wiped his mouth and chin with a linen napkin and patted his bloated stomach. Monsignor Damien sat to his left and Cardinal Michaels to his right.

“You have quite the appetite, Mr. Bogdanski,” said Michaels.

There was something about the cardinal that made him anxious. An old memory, he was sure a bad one, was trying to surface. Most of the guests were there for the celebration this afternoon—the installation of the new archbishop of the diocese of New York, His Excellency Cardinal Michaels. How did I get invited here?

“Your Excellency, I may have overeaten. The food here is exquisite.”

“We may serve God in poverty, but we are rich in the simple things of life,” said Monsignor Damien.

Apple had wanted to ask the monsignor something. He was certain it was relevant, perhaps even important.

“Coffee?” asked the monsignor as he reached for a carafe.

Apple lifted his cup from its saucer and took a closer look at the others seated around the table. The people opposite were blurred as if they were obscured by the wavy streaks of old, handcrafted window glass. He rubbed both eyes with his free hand, but the moving images resisted focus. His eyelids insisted on closing. He listened to the conversations and recognized the snippets, but they made no sense. He was in a dream, trying to read a book, turning a page and finding that no matter how hard he focused, the lettering shifted into meaningless symbols.

“We’re very proud of you, Lieutenant.”

Apple put down his coffee. A hand patted his shoulder. He coughed as the slug of coffee caught in his throat.

“Everything okay, soldier?”

He was staring at Brigadier General Edward Horsteed, Commandant of Cadets. Apple’s collar tightened, and moisture collected on his forehead. He scanned the table. Gone were the fuzzy images. Of what—clergy? Seated across from him were cadets in their blue-grays and, beyond them, more of the same, row after row. Rays of colored light streamed in through elongated arched gothic windows set in the high walls on either side of the hall. The place and the time came back to him. He was about to deliver an address to the senior class and was seated at the table of honor in the main dining hall of West Point Military Academy.

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