On a Wing and a Lagomorph

I remember reading that we would never truly grasp delight, if we didn’t know pains distress. I couldn’t bring myself to open the locket I was wearing, maybe I wasn’t ready to view joy in the face of so much despair, or perhaps I would just collapse in the sheer futility of my resolve. This cheesy heart-shaped bauble held so much power over me, if I listened hard enough, I could hear it laughing at me “come on, take a look… bunny!”

I should explain that I’m, no I was, dead. I don’t know how but my base was destroyed early this morning. All I remember was standing on the portico behind the mess hall drinking my morning coffee and having a cigarette. Hearing the alarm sound and 30 seconds later a big, hot, red, flash! Just as I was snuffing out my smoke and about to walk through yet another drill, but this time it wasn’t.

The next thing I remember was waking up in dormitory 1107 actually to be more precise waking up inside of a footlocker in dormitory 1107. Luckily I found a pocket knife with which to pry the latches open. The dorm room was scorched all of the bunks were reduced to wireframes everything was covered in black soot the windows were all blown out and aside from the reddish haze of the murky sky outside the only light came from the partially melted fire exit sign behind the stairway door. I seem to recall standing countless hours on “dorm guard” duty… usually as punishment for various infractions of my questionable character.

Well at this point I should further explain… I am now a stuffed bunny a four-foot-tall burlap rabbit with long floppy ears. My memory is fragmented I remember bits and pieces of me but I can’t recall my name, the footlocker was marked Riley 6633 so perhaps that is my name. Given to a rip in the fabric of my neck my head tends to hang low and I find myself constantly having to lift it with my hand in order to see where I’m going. I’ve been constantly searching looking for answers, looking for hope.

I walked about the scarred and scorched skeletal remains of the base's buildings dotted with the fuselages of ornamental aircraft interspersed between them. I remember thinking how nice it was they did that. Until I later realized that from above, these planes looked like aircraft leaving their perspective hangers (our dormitories) thereby giving me a different perspective on our value to the military… people are cheap, aircraft cost money. Well, they got their money’s worth I couldn’t find a single living soul but as I walked along the adjoining airbase I found plenty of aircraft nestled safely in their hangers just no one to pilot them. The eerie silence of inactivity was deafening as I surveyed the landscape the dark red sky, the smell of ash and char blowing in the slight Texas breeze as I stood at the end of a runway. I thought this is what it looks like; this is what the end of the world looks like. I didn’t have the spirit to hold my head up anymore and I plopped down to the ground leaning against a signal light pole and I drifted off to sleep turns out even when you’re a dead stuffed bunny you still need sleep.

I woke up buried under some tumbleweeds that found their way to my resting place and stuck to my burlap skin. Having only one free finger per hand has its limitations especially when said digit is made of what amounts to a velcro mitten! After tumbling a few times and shaking them off and cursing at the humiliation that I was still a stuffed bunny I got up and walked toward one of the hangers.

The door was partially ajar and I was able to squeeze through given my newfound flexible frame. Inside was two Da20 trainer aircraft one was being serviced the other looked to be in good condition. I was hoping I could find a working radio to see if I could find out what had happened any kind of news would be helpful a radio, a TV anything that wasn’t scorched or destroyed.

I exited the hanger and decided to walk over toward the control tower if anywhere was going to have a working radio that would be it. As I approached the building the scent of decay started to intermingle with the burning char. That’s when I found the burned-out shell of a jeep. The driver was still sitting his hands melted into the steering wheel a familiar scene but this time the smell was overwhelming. “Where’s your field pass, airman?” Elated and befuddled I suddenly turned around to see where the voice came from, but only the driver could be seen.

Startled I made my way through the shattered glass door and straight up the stairwell to the traffic control room stepping over the remains of countless bodies the stench was overwhelming in here I just wanted to find a working radio and get the hell out.

I walked into the control room to find a few controllers slumped over their consoles the blast-proof glass in the room was still intact and the radios looked undamaged I grabbed one of the hand radios from an MP. I wasn’t even sure if my new body came with a voice but I hit the talk button and shouted “Hello, hello is there anyone out there?” That’s when one of the controllers said, “get back to your post Airman, NORAD has reported suspicious activity!” I looked at the dead controller still clutching his microphone and replied “look man, your dead we are all dead, wake up it’s over!” well I got my answer, I do have a voice!

That was the first time I tasted a wayward soul, I can’t say that it was a pleasant experience but no sooner had I finished speaking but a yellow streak of light passed from his body and into my mouth, and with this delicious bite came all of his thoughts right before he died and then some more of his life and then of his knowledge I was caught in a tangle of who’s thoughts were mine and which were his I stood there stunned for I don’t know how long.

I do not create tears but let me tell you I cried, I cried for his family, for his wife and son for his lost hopes and dreams I even cried for his dog, Max. I woke up and went straight down the stairwell and out of the building.

Wishing to not have this experience again, I avoided the Jeep driver and went straight back for the hanger turns out that the controller was also a civilian pilot with my newfound knowledge I was going to take that trainer plane out of this burnt hell and hopefully find some pocket of life.

That’s when it hit me… I had to open the locket I had to remember who I was… fully. I knew it was the answer and I had to go back to where I was standing when it happened to fully remember who I am before I can leave this burned-out nightmare.

By now the mess hall was absolutely putrid-smelling, I skirted around it to the back portico to the place I was standing and saw my body still holding the coffee mug laying on the ground. Looking at your corpse isn’t something you expect to do, I wanted to dive into that lifeless pile of half-baked flesh and go take a shower and change into a clean battle dress uniform. Not today Bunny, not today.

I reached into the hole in the back of my neck to retrieve the pocket knife; I opened it up and used the blade to pry open the locket around my neck. A golden light flashed from it the moment I laid eyes on the two photographs I saw myself buying this stuffed bunny for my daughter, she was upset I was going to be deployed soon. I placed a picture of my wife on one side and a small locket of my hair under a photo of me on the other. I saw myself make two other lockets one for each of us I placed one in the bunnies vest pocket and the other around my neck. Was this how I emerged into this new body? Had I somehow infused this stuffed rabbit with my essence the day before I died? I reached over to grab the other locket from my corpse and stuffed it and the pocket knife back into my neck. Bunny… Bunny was my nickname, that’s why I picked this rabbit!

That golden light, kept faintly shining but this time it was pulling me I knew they were still alive I could feel them; I knew they were in danger; I have to go I have to find them. So back to the hanger I went and with it a new sense of urgency.

Off in the distance as I passed the control tower I heard a wailing sound that startled me. A large black shadow was standing over the jeep driver I could hear his cries as it was devouring his soul. A sense of guilt washed over me as I saw him being consumed. Without thinking I ran toward the shadow figure yelling “back off, leave him alone!”

My instincts took over as I dived into the shadow figure and pushed it into the building behind the Jeep. It got up and replied with the most penetrating blow to my head I have ever felt, I fell to the ground shaking my head. That was the first time I felt pain since I died and it wasn’t a pleasant reminder. I mustered enough energy to stand back up and I lunged as my cute bunny jaws opened up and I instinctively bit right into my ethereal attacker. It wailed once again trying to pull my mouth from its body but I bit down harder and pierced its shadowy skin I slowly inhaled its contents…the jeep driver's soul entered me as I watched the shrouded form dissipate.

Master Sergeant Roberts didn’t taste any better than Phil the controller but I was grateful for the newfound proficiency in hand-to-hand combat. I vowed to never leave another lingering soul again should they also meet the fate of the good sergeant. Strangely energized I marched off to the hanger I felt a new strength in me. Seems I’m not the only thing skirting the realms of the dead and the living, I’m beginning to think I have some kind of purpose being here.

I pulled the hanger door chains down with ease; my new=found soul companion has given me pretty good strength for a stuffed rabbit. I removed the blocks from under the wheels and pulled the trainer plane to the taxiway. I climbed into the cockpit my feet barely touching the foot pedals I would have to fly sitting at the edge of my seat to steer the rudders properly I wasn’t so worried about the breaks because if I have to I could always just jump from the plane before the landing. After all being a dead stuffed rabbit has its privileges!

The engine started right up I throttled up the plane and placed the headset over my giant floppy ears. I jokingly spoke into the headset, “This is Riley 6633 in WZAE 119, requesting permission to depart.” I floored the throttle and took off with my newfound navigation system to find my wife and daughter. So if you see a stuffed bunny flying an airplane, don’t be alarmed… it's only hope!

© 2021 Robert Trakofler