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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

The Man With The Black Hands

A silver aircraft shuddered to a halt out of its element
Cracked collapsed leaking lifeblood onto concrete
With all the world a stage
There's just no way to keep this discrete
What's needed is a real performer
With skill and charisma to spare
Able to toss a cigarette into the air
Walk away from the explosion without a care

The answer is on the worn paper stock card in my wallet
The lettering is barely legible after all these years
Though I barely need it
The name and number are branded upon me
In places impolite to share with the public
A shiver runs down my spine
Goosebumps raise on up
As fingertips touch the buttons to make the call

Words are spoken
With grunts of assent in response
A sound of an old receiver being slammed down
The call has been made
The bat signal shone into the sky
Signal fires upon mountaintops lit up as one
All eyes turn to the West
For he will come out of the setting sun

A drone reaches everyones ears
Faint at first but growing into a thrum
Felt both in the chest and upon the toes
Hackles raise up in anticipation
Potential conflict approaches
That's how it goes

Propellers cut the air with their characteristic whap
Twin Pratt R-4360's pushing their collective seven thousand horse
Corncobbing away in fifty-six  radial cylinders of glorious internal combustion
Flames of unspent combustion decorating the exhaust stacks
Flanked by the queer sight of one small whiny jet engine on each wing
A powerful hippo of the air
The lone Fairchild C-119K Flying Boxcar pirouetted onto final approach

Tires squawking sharply upon Runway Sixteen Right
In a bold downwind landing making quite a sight
Making the first turnoff and taxiing right in close
Turning slightly to take advantage of the golden hour's light
Flexing military style nose art for the gathered crowd
A Betty Paige cheesecake pinup image
Uncensored riding an oversize wrench sidesaddle in the nude
Precise black hand-prints the only thing covering her breasts
With the biggest red lipped smile upon her face we'd ever seen
She's brought our savior and all of his tools
Bright yellow letters arced underneath proclaimed her the "AOG QUEEN"

Rear cargo door halves kicked open
Ramps hitting the tarmac as the propellers complete their final spin
And a pair of boots brought a man smartly into view
Smoking a cigar in a hipster caricature of cool
Eyes hidden behind Air Force sunglasses
Corners crinkled in anticipation of the big job at hand
One already greasy paw pulled out the cigar revealing a smile
For this was the thing upon which he thrived

"I heard you had a little problem with your Boeing over there...." says he
And with that, announcing that the man with the black hands had arrived