![By Bill Johnson, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons](http://www.usrepresented.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/1024px-Heppner_Oregon_aerial_view-685x425.jpg)
Only in her most joyful dreams had Zera experienced what she was now doing — flying! Up and over the Colorado Rocky Mountains she soared on the tiny, triangular ship. She rode the wind past trees, houses, streams, and rivers. Up, then down, then up, up, up again, weightless and free. She rode high, where house-sized droplets of water made up moist clouds that bounced around her. Then she plummeted,
![By Alex Valavanis (Flickr) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons](http://www.usrepresented.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/1024px-Dandelion_seed_dispersal-685x425.jpg)
Despite Nonny’s worry over Uncle Theodore, Zera heard her snoring, sound asleep just minutes after they went to bed. Following the call to The Grand Hotel in Los Angeles, Zera was even more awake. Lying in bed, the words rang in her mind. Mr. Green has checked out. Zera stared up at the ceiling in her dark bedroom, the glow-in-the-dark constellation seeming so child-like now. She considered waking up Nonny,
The End There are as many lessons and stories that came out of Vietnam as there are soldiers who went there. It remains a signature moment for my life. Until 9/11, America declined to send troops all over the world for insignificant political reasons. Now that lesson seems to have been forgotten. But I learned that dying isn’t to be feared. The accident that killed me also saved my life.
Saturday, June 7 Theodore came to on tangerine shag carpet in the back of a 1970s-era Volkswagen van. He lay on his side, his wrists bound together tightly with multiple plastic zip ties. Daybreak shone through the dirt-streaked windows, illuminating everything in a grimy pink glow. The scent of a biofuel, one he wasn’t familiar with, hung in the air. Tilting his head all the way back, he could see
Shattered For the Romans, death required crossing the River Styx. It is as good a metaphor as any. I can say that dying isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It is just one more river to cross. I had worried for the entire year I was in Vietnam about dying. Then I went and did it on a barren Kansas road. The physical stuff is easy enough to describe.
“We were cut off,” Nonny told Zera. “Did you see him?” Zera was getting clean water for the dogs’ bowl in the kitchen. She glanced at Nonny, sitting at the kitchen table, v-phone in her hand. “For a second,” Nonny said. “It was dark when he picked up the phone. He turned on the light, put on his glasses . . .” Nonny dialed Theodore’s v-phone number. Zera set the
