Imperfect Subjunctive

 219.

"Humility removes limits," I consider as I reach for my cane. We are about to begin the daily physical therapy routine that has become the norm. Our flight to Condon, Montana is scheduled for a 0900 departure, leaving us precious little time to exercise, eat, prep and scour the latest intel. Mina and Mustang are enjoying what appears to be something of an inside joke in Tagalog at my expense. My grasp of the imperfect subjunctive takes a few additional seconds in translation and by then the subjects and objects are solidly in the past tense. I recognize their banter as both witty and good natured.

"I trust that somewhere in this closet transfer I will find my cold weather gear," I ask knowing that the late November winters in the Big Sky can freeze a cup of hot coffee in seconds flat.

"Mina has asked if you were to get frost bite on your left hand or foot, how would you know?" Mustang chuckles, again, apparently at my expense.

"Funny," I respond assuming the role of straight man, "Even a blind man knows when the sun is shining." We share a quick laugh and return to the business of packing for the trip, burdened with a search and rescue mission of indeterminable duration.

It has been decided that until we get a GPS fix on The Queen's 20, we'll make temporary camp in Missoula providing quick access to I-90 about halfway between Spokane and Bozeman, the last assumed location range of our target. We will meet with Drysdale's scout for the latest intel immediately upon arrival.

My morning exercise completed, nothing more than walking with greater range and mobility with each session as the muscles, tendons, ligaments and axons reacquaint themselves with the combined effort necessary for successful ambulation, we check the packing list once more. Mina calls us to the table for eggs, fresh cantaloupe and steel-cut oatmeal.

"How long will you be gone?" She asks.

"All depends on variables out of our control," I answer, "Weather being one, location of The Queen being another,"

"Fortification and size of enemy combatants a third," Mustang adds.

"And then there is the question of our strike force readiness," I say. "If our major asset of the past is now a present liability."

Unsure if I am referencing The Queen, TOM, Saunders, Mustang or myself, we all enjoy the meal, our time together and the beauty of the imperfect subjunctive.