Chapter 3: 20/20

After Megan and her fellow graduates had returned to their seats, they waited until the ceremony came to a close.

The college president banged the ceremonial gavel, the faculty headed off the stage and down the center aisle and the students and family were left to meet and greet as well as to take advantage of many a photo opportunity.

Megan met up with her family and received a quick volley of hugs before dispersing back into the crowd to see off several of her classmates and teammates.

“Back in a few, okay guys?” She’d said aloud, handing her papers and graduation itinerary to her mother, who accepted them with a smile.

"Sure, go ahead dear. We'll find you if we need you. Go have fun with your friends.”
Megan beamed and leaded off into the crowd.

She shook hands and gave out many hugs with many of her school fellows. She was quite popular despite her Mechanical Engineering degree, for she was also on the D1 varsity volleyball team. She had set several school records for Blocks Per Set and Assists Per Set, as well as made the NCAA top 10 on several occasions for Service Aces and Total Blocks.

“Hey Megs, got time for a quick volley?” Asked one of the girls from her team, unbuttoning her gown and revealing a volleyball she’d smuggled into the ceremony.

Several girls around her laughed.

“Well, heck. And here’s me thinking you just got really fat all of a sudden!” One of them hollered.

The girl with the volleyball stuck out her tongue and with light fingers volleyed the ball towards the girl, who in turn bumped it into the air. Megan sidestepped her way into the space and with well-practiced form, reached up with extended fingertips and volleyed it back to the first girl.

They continued on in this way, as they had done in practice, giggling and making jibes as a few other girls from the graduating class who were also on the team came in to bump, spike and volley the ball.

“Hannah, heads!” said Megan as she had to run a few steps awkwardly in heels to one-handedly keep the ball in play.

The girl, Hannah, who was not paying attention at that moment turned just in time and threw her hands up in front of her face. The ball bounced off harmlessly as Hannah let out a shriek of surprise making them all laugh and the ball rolled off, but not before bouncing off the back of the head of an elderly gentleman who did not appreciate the surprise.

“Here you go, little lady.” Came a voice from Megan’s left. A man’s hand was outstretched, as the ball had come to land at his feet. It was her brother, Brad. Apparently, he had taken a keen interest in the impromptu volleyball game.

“Thanks little bro,” said Megan as she took the ball, which was now spinning like an orb off the tip of his index finger.

“You ladies need an extra hand, I’ve got two?” he said with a roguish wink as his sister took the ball.

Several of the girls cast appraising glances Brad’s way and a few of them giggled and put their hands to their mouths. Brad didn’t waste any opportunity smiling and waiving back, making them blush into their hands.

He hung back, hands in his pocket and watched the scene of six tall, lovely ladies running and bouncing in action, calling out imaginary plays against invisible opponents.

“Set! … Spike! … Got it! … Set!” They intoned, having the time of their lives.

After a few more minutes, parents were calling out the names of their children and the match slowly wound down. A few hugs and teary goodbyes were had, the ball now lay forgotten on the ground.

“Hey Brad, can you take our photo?” Asked Megan, who was spying for a photographer.
He nodded and jogged over. The remaining girls from her volleyball team handed him their phones so that he could take a photo on each.

“Ladies, if you wanted my number, all you had to do is ask. It’s 555-,” he began, making them all laugh.

After all the necessary photos were taken, Megan gave her final round of goodbyes while Brad waited off to the side. He’d occupied his time by taking the volleyball and treating it like a soccer ball, bouncing it from knee to knee with ease as well as bringing off a particularly difficult move of bouncing off of his knee to the height of his head, where it remailed aloft until he was able to settle it on his nose.

Arms outstretched and in a slight crouch, he managed to keep it in the air for an impressive amount of time.

“Ark, ark, ark!” came a voice from crowd. Uncle Topher was heading their way, cigarette at the corner of his mouth and was clapping his hands while rocking his upper body side to side in a near-perfect imitation of a seal.

Brad Jr. looked over, mid-bounce and smiled.

“Heads, Uncle T!”

Brad headed the ball to Topher, who removed his cigarette and proceeded to bounce the ball off his head, then go from head to knee; as well as balance the ball on the top of his highly polished dress shoe.

“You still have it, Pinball.” Came the voice of Megan’s father from the crowd. Topher grinned and lobbed the ball to his older brother who stretched out but was unable to do anything impressive with the ball.

“I never lost it, Wrecker.” Said Topher, who replaced the cigarette in his mouth.

Megan appeared out of the crowd, hands on hips. “So, this is where the ball has gotten to.”

Her father smiled and gave a light lob of the ball Megan’s way, who caught it one-handed.

“Bridgette! Here!” cried Megan over her shoulder. A girl with red hair came over and grabbed the ball. She waived at the Wolfe family and disappeared into the crowd.

All the members of Megan’s family crowded around her, sharing in their congratulations.

“Way to go, angel.” Said her mother coming in for a hug.

“You did it, kiddo. Proud as heck of you.” Said her uncle, throwing up a high-five.
Her father came in for a hug to join his wife and daughter.

“Aww, you’re going to make me cry. I want a hug!” said Brad, pulling a face and joining the family.

“This is a candid moment,” said Uncle Topher who took the opportunity of snapping a few family photos. Some goofy, some serious.

“Would you like me to get one of the whole family?” asked someone’s parent who was at that moment passing by.

“That’d be swell, thank you.” Said Topher, handing over his cell phone.

“Lose the heater, Pinball.” Said Megan’s father out of the corner of his mouth.

“Copy, Wrecker.” Said her uncle with a wink, exhaling a long puff of smoke and promptly ground it out.

++++++

As the family made their way across the football field and through the stadium exit, torrents of conversation were heard. Excited voices talking about what they would be doing next, tearful goodbyes between friends, the promises of vacations and the advent of what the next phases of life would be.

Megan smiled as she walked in tandem with her family. Her uncle had rented them a Chevy Tahoe and insisted on driving.

“Where are we going for lunch? I’m starving!” said Brad Jr., now loosening his tie and popping the top button on his dress shirt.

“You’re always hungry, kiddo!” Laughed Topher who was hitting the key fob, apparently looking for their ride.

“Guess everyone seemed to want to rent a Tahoe today, huh?” Said Brad Sr., now helping his brother in the search for the car.

The search didn’t take long as Brad Jr. pointed out a blacked-out Tahoe in the far-off distance with a road cone atop it’s roof.

“Now who in Sam Hill would do that?” said her uncle as they approached the vehicle.

“Dunno.” Said Brad. Jr, who looked at his sister and winked, “but they sure made it a lot easier to find this rental car.”

++++++

The family piled in and drove a few miles to a diner that Megan had introduced the whole family to during their many trips out to see her during her college years. It was a quaint little place where the food was good, the prices were cheap, and the service was fast.

“My kind of place,” her uncle said once when she had first taken him and her parents there.

“We’re here.” Said her uncle unnecessarily, as a giant sign that read Lucky’s Diner came into view.

They piled out and headed inside. Megan noticed that a few of her fellow graduates whom she did not know well had also chosen the diner. They were instantly recognizable due the fact that some of them were still wearing their caps and gowns. Other’s chose to keep their caps on. Megan had decided that the day being as hot as it was, chose to remove both.

“The AC is working in here today.” She said aloud, rubbing the sides of her arms. Goosebumps erupted over the sculpted surface of her broad shoulders and arms. She had chosen to wear a navy-blue dress with exposed shoulders. It was simply cut, and she had had it since her freshman year. Megan wasn’t cheap by any means, but it was a high school graduation gift her parents had gotten her when she was accepted into her degree program.

Megan did gain a bit of weight during her four years at college, but nearly all of it was muscle and the dress flattered her physique even more now than it had when she had first received it.

They stood in a line waiting to be served and it was moving quickly. In no time at all, they were at the head of the cue.

“Welcome to Lucky’s. Table for five?”

Megan’s father nodded and they were shown to a booth near a window at her father’s insistence.

They all squeezed into the booth, with her father and uncle taking the window seats. They gazed out and looked up instinctively while the waitress handed menus all around and took their orders.

“Be back in a jiffy with those drinks.”

Megan’s brother took out his phone and began to text while her mother took out a knitting needle and some yarn from her bag. Megan spied around the restaurant, her hands on the tabletop, her chin resting on her left hand. She nodded and smiled at a few people she recognized as she peered around.

“Boeing 747.”

“Gulfstream IV.”

Megan looked over at the window. She smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Her uncle and father were doing what the always did whenever they were out and about at a restaurant near a window that had air traffic around.

They would make a game of identifying whatever they saw and be as descriptive as possible, trying to outdo one another. They also did it with vehicles on the road. Thankfully they refrained while driving from the college to the diner today.

They continued.

“Bell helicopter.” Said Brad Sr.

“Yeah, but what kind?” said her uncle.

“Bell Jet Ranger 206, I reckon.”

“Mmm.” Her uncle nodded his head in agreement.

“What’s the tail number?” her uncle said, raising an eyebrow and leaning back in the booth.

“Aw, hell. Anyone can read that.” He boasted.

“Yeah, but I’m asking you, goggles.” Her uncle said, laughter in his voice.

Brad Sr. Adjusted his glasses, thinking. “Well, it’s as clear as day on the tail. November 1-3-0 …uh, Bravo … Uniform.” He said after a moment.

“Hogwash.” Said her uncle, now looking out the window. Now it was his turn to squint.

“That’s a Delta if ever there was one.”

“Double-hogwash,” her father said, “you need to get your eyes checked.”

“No need, got 20-20.” Said Topher, tapping his temple.

Megan couldn’t help herself, she looked too.
“November 1-3-0 DELTA Uniform.” she said.

“I win.” Said her uncle, folding his arms across his chest and grinning.

Brad Sr. flipped him the bird, earning a playful smack from his wife.

Topher looked at his niece. “Good thing you haven’t inherited your daddy’s eyesight.” He feigned Ray Charles on the piano making their entire table laugh.

In truth, Megan had inherited her father’s eyesight. In fact, hers was even worse. Twice during her college career, she had to make appointments with the school doctors due to headaches. After ruling out infections and any side effects from medications (she didn’t take any), the doctor had the foresight to ask her to read the eyechart in the room.

When Megan failed to do so without her glasses. She was asked to reread the chart with her glasses on. She failed the exam and was instructed to get a stronger prescription. She knew her parent’s family insurance plan was not very good and had decided not to burden them.

She had asked the doctor for the recommendation of a student budge-friendly optometrist and was provided with a name and location. Megan paid out of pocket, using the money she’d saved from working at her part time job as a bartender.

Several hundred dollars later, her vision improved, and her headaches vanished.
Until her senior year.

“You know, your eyesight is getting a little worse. Have you ever considered Lasik?” The doctor had asked.

Megan was familiar with the procedure of corneal correction, through the use of laser surgery.

Again, not wanting to burden the family, she’d opted to do the research on her own and found a reputable doctor the next town over. He’d recommended she get both eyes corrected, due to the severity of her case. She had agreed, though she didn’t have the money for both. The doctor was understanding and put her in touch with a company that offered student-priced health loans with reasonable interest payments, and Megan qualified.

She was put on a payment plan to the tune of $2,200 per eye.

They did her right eye first and she had incredible success. Her left eye was not as lucky.

She remembered the discussion she had had with the doctor after the procedure was completed.

“Due to the physiology of your eye and the orbital socket, the best we can hope for is 20/40, or 20/30. It’s a step up from the 20/60 you came in with.”

“Is there anything I can do on my own to strengthen my ocular muscles?” Megan had asked, determined to have optimal vision.

“Well, yes. There are occupational therapy exercises you can do. You can find many courses online that will help you build up and maintain your visual acuity. But may I ask why you’re so keen on having 20/20 vision?”

Megan remembered sitting in the little room with its walls peppered with posters. Anatomy posters of the human eye; posters with overviews of the LASIK procedure, and of course the eye charts.

She was sitting kitty corner to the doctor; they were both on stools. Megan’s chart was in her doctor’s hand, the file now thick with her visual progress notes and procedure sheets. She had looked down at the folder then at the doctor. Out of the corner of her eye, out of the nearest window like an omen, she noticed a jet plane streaking through the sky in the far-off distance. She turned to look out the window for a moment, then returned her gaze to the doctor and said, “my goal is to become a fighter pilot.”