David Epperson - The Third Day

Far from being afraid of the speed of modern life, it appeared that Naomi had developed an almost maniacal addiction to it.

“Does she drive?”

“Scares me half to death every time,” he replied. “But she’s getting the hang of it.”

“What about scuba diving?”

He shot me an evil look. “Don’t even think about it.”

Then he smiled. “One thing at time, Bill; one thing at a time.”

I glanced up to see what looked like hundreds of black specks in the distance.

“Here they come!” she shouted.

Lavon directed me to climb into the back seat of Naomi’s ultralight while he headed for the other one. A minute later, after a quick run-up, both aircraft lifted off the runway and climbed into the autumn sky.

We leveled off at around a thousand feet, and the geese, accustomed to the presence of these unusual relatives, flew alongside us, with their honking audible even above the noise of the engines.

As we turned to the south on a glorious October day, I felt privileged to be alive — to be a part of this. Did I have more faith in God as a result of our journey, or less? I still wasn’t sure; maybe I never would be.

But amidst the wonders of nature that surrounded us, and bathed in the radiance of the afternoon sun, I could see the reflective glow of a bright, vivacious woman, free and full of spirit, living for the first time without fear.

That was enough.