You're the Father of My Baby

Bad Water, Death Valley - photo by JoAnn Sturman

W.R. Priskna
fliesinyoureyes.com

“I didn't screw her!” - Rizzo 1969

During the summer following 4th class (freshman) year, the Air Force Academy flew the 3rd class cadets around the country to five different air force bases over a three week period. The program, the ZI (Zone of the Interior) field trip, exposed about 900 cadets to the operational Air Force. Flight demonstrations, top secret briefings, and social events showcasing many of the area's most eligible women were available at each base.

When our class returned to Colorado in August to begin the fall academic semester, it was the first time many of us had seen each other since June. There were plenty of stories to tell about the summer – prisoner of war training, the ZI field trip, and three weeks of vacation. We were reunited with old friends from the past year and met new classmates who were transferred to the 40th Squadron. Two new acquaintances, OD from San Francisco and Rizzo from rural Nebraska, have remained great friends for over forty years.

In 1969 the Air Force Academy was an all male school, and it was difficult to meet women due to the Academy's physical isolation and rules forbidding underclassmen from leaving the base. Many of us were clumsy when dealing with women, and it was not uncommon for a cadet to have virtually no experience dating in high school. Rizzo was an exception. He was handsome and charismatic, possessed many of the qualities women prefer in short term relationships, and experienced with the opposite sex before coming to the Academy. Women liked him, and he reciprocated.

Rizzo was quick to tell us about his exploits with a pretty young air woman he met at a base in Arkansas during the ZI field trip. While the rest of his classmates sat in the corner at the dance drinking too much beer and bemoaned their bad luck with women, he was in the back seat of the lovely Bobbi Lou's car. He shared this experience with us and offered us plenty of advice on how to be successful with the ladies.

A few days later OD and I discussed Rizzo's good hearted arrogance and some ways we could have a little fun at his expense.

“Rizzo loves to throw the shit around, WR, and he acts like he's God's gift to women.”

“He probably is, but we need to come up with something to pull his chain. Why don't we write Rizzo a forged love letter from Bobbi Lou telling him how much she misses him and that she is trying get the Air Force to transferred her to Colorado to be closer to him.”

“That's a start, but he'll only laugh it off. We need to put something in the letter that will put his ass in the wringer.”

“Like she's pregnant by him?”

“Now you're talking. Particularly if she insists he marry her.”

“I'm liking this more and more, but we don't know if he slept with her, OD.”

“I doesn't matter. It's the shock effect we're looking for.”

“How are we going to pull this off? He may be from Nebraska, but he's hard to bullshit. He'll see right through it.”

“Maybe not. If we can make the letter look like it was written by Bobbi Lou and post mark it from Arkansas, we have a good chance to trick him.”

“None of us have girlfriends who would write the letter for us and even if we did, they would never get involved in this type of practical joke. The only one I can think of is Livi's girlfriend Bridget.”

“She'll never do it. She and Livi have been dating since high school, and he may get jealous. Anyway, she likes Rizzo's style and is too considerate to hurt his feelings.”

“Rizzo doesn't have feelings, OD.”

“You've got pretty handwriting, WR. It looks like a girl's. You write the letter.”

“What are you implying?”

“I'm only talking about your handwriting.”

“I'll give it a shot. It's got to look authentic and have an Arkansas postmark. My friend Fitz's family is from Arkansas. I'll write the letter and put it in an envelop addressed to Rizzo at the Academy, and then put it in another, larger one to be sent to Fitz's parents. Fitz won't mind having a little fun with Rizzo. He can call his folks and ask them to mail the enclosed letter, so it looks like the real deal.”

I called my mom and asked her to send me some heavily perfumed feminine stationery. I composed the letter, and once mom's package arrived, I transposed the draft to the pink paper with the flowers printed in the margins.

My Dearest Rizzo,

How I long for your strong arms. I'll never forget the few hours we spent together. They were the happiest of my life. I knew then we were meant for each other. Not a moment passes when I don' think of you and long for our bodies to be one.”

I am not sure how to tell you, but I am pregnant with our child. Please don't be angry with me, my love. I count the day until we will be married, and I can have you to myself every moment of the day.

All my love,
Bobbi Lou

Before giving the letter to Fitz to send, I showed it to OD. “This is great, WR! It's like the Victorian romances my sister reads. Rizzo is going to shit his pants!”

We only had a rough estimate when Rizzo would receive his missive from Bobbi Lou. It took three days for a letter to travel to Arkansas and three days back. It was uncertain how quickly Fitz's parents would return the letter and how often Rizzo checked his mail box. Our best guess was a week to ten days. We couldn't ask Rizzo if he had received any unusual mail, because even though he was from Nebraska he would know something was amiss. As soon as the letter arrived, we expected Rizzo to panic and come to his friends for help.

OD and I watched him closely for any hint. Ten days passed, and nothing seemed peculiar about his demeanor. Fitz called his parents, and they told him they returned the letter the same day they received it. Did Rizzo throw the letter away before he read it, or had he received it and was keeping his concerns to himself?

A few days later OD was studying in the room he shared with Rizzo, when he looked in the waste basket and saw ashes and a trace of pink paper. Eureka! Rizzo had received the letter, hid it from his friends, and then burned it to destroy the evidence. It appeared the joke was working, but how could we extract another pound of flesh if we couldn't help Rizzo solve his problem?

OD came to my room and told me what he had found.

“OD, somehow you need to nonchalantly tell Rizzo you found some burned paper in the trash and ask if he knows anything about it. If he doesn't bite, we'll have to let him in on our ruse.”

“I'll talk to him tonight after football practice.”

That afternoon at football practice Rizzo played like a rabid dog. He weighed perhaps 160 pounds and was normally an aggressive undersized linebacker, but this day he was a kamikaze. There was bad blood between him and Bull Tipton, an offensive lineman who out weighed him by 80 pounds. Tipton had a huge ass and legs to match and enjoyed tormenting Rizzo. Near the end of practice OD intercepted a pass and began lumbering toward the opponent's goal. As Tipton turned to tackle OD, he was blind sided by Rizzo. Running full speed and foam pouring from his mouth, Rizzo speared Bull squarely on the chin with his helmet. Bull collapsed in a heap with his arms sprawled to the side and his tongue handing out the side of his mouth.

“Damn, Rizzo, you really leveled Bull in practice today. I never thought he would get up after you hit him when he was chasing me.”

“It's every linebacker's dream to have some one like Bull in the cross hairs. I thought he was a pussy, but after he shook the cobwebs loose, he got up and finished practice. How's he doin' tonight?”

He's Okay. Dropped a few IQ points when you dusted him, but he should still get into pilot training. You doing okay, Rizzo?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

Later in life OD would become a lawyer, but even as a nineteen year old he could sense when to strike his prey. He took a chance and threw out the bait. “Just seems like you haven't been yourself the last few days. There's something a little weird, too. I was going to empty the trash today and found a burned letter in it. I put two and two together. You sure there isn't something going on?”

Rizzo opened up like a faucet. “Do you remember me telling you guys about that girl Bobbi Lou I met last summer? Well, the bitch sent me a letter claiming I got her pregnant.”

“You've got to be kidding Did you screw her?”

“So help me God, I never screwed her. We kissed and did some heavy petting in the back of her car. Now she's knocked up by someone else and wants me to marry her!”

“Geez, Rizzo. This is serious. Let's get WR and see if he has any ideas.”

OD left his room, crossed the hall, and barged into the room. My roommate Num and I were solving the world's problems. “WR, you and Num come over to my room! Rizzo got the letter and is convinced Bobbi Lou sent it.”

“You've gotta be kidding me, Rizzo. OD told me all about it. You've got a big problem. Did you screw her?”

“Hell no! I never screwed her. She's trying to mess up my life, because somebody else got her pregnant. Like I was telling OD. I hardly touched her.”

“I don't know, Rizzo,” I added. “The judge will take one look at you and believe her. Besides this is no ordinary affair. Bobbi Lou is an Air Force two striper and you're an upper class cadet. There could be fraternization issues and allegations you forced her to have sex since you out rank her. You may get expelled from the Academy for this. If I were you, I would see a lawyer as soon as possible.”

“I didn't screw her, but I'm in deep shit.” I going to be kicked out of school and never be a pilot. I'll be working as a bus boy in Shit Creek, Arkansas for the rest of my life.”

In a concerned tone I added, “That's why it is so important to get legal advice, Rizzo. OD, Num, and I are just trying to help.”

The next day Rizzo made an appointment to see an attorney in the Academy's legal department. After the session he returned to the dorm and told us the lawyer said there was nothing Bobbi Lou could do. It was her word against his, so Rizzo was in the clear.

At the evening meal that night in Mitchell Hall Rizzo, OD, and I were sitting at the same table with seven other cadets. In an unusual display of decorum, OD raised his water glass and proposed a toast to the most gullible cadet at the Academy. He proceeded to describe how the joke was conceived and carried out. Rizzo let him finish, let out a big, hearty laugh, and declared, “You Assholes!”