Page 29 of The Do-Over
ROB
“You’re Rob Honeycutt, aren’t you?” the kid on the examination table said wonderingly.
Rob grinned. It never got tiring being recognized by new recruits, even though he supposed he should be a little more modest about it. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said.
“But like, the Rob Honeycutt who took Larrimore University to the Final Four?”
“I don’t know if I’d say I took them,” Rob said. “I was part of the Final Four team.”
“No, it was you,” the kid insisted. “I was only five years old the year you guys went—”
Rob laughed. “Well, now you’re making me feel ancient.”
“It was one of the biggest events of my childhood!” the kid said. “My dad and I are huge basketball fans, Dr. Honeycutt. We always have been. And Larrimore was the team to watch that year. Everyone was excited about what a Cinderella story it was.”
That was true. Rob remembered well how exciting those days had been, how the energy around the team had seemed to build and build as they’d unexpectedly won a berth in the Sweet Sixteen, and then the Elite Eight. By the time they’d reached the Final Four, the whole nation had been talking, and Rob had briefly—but thrillingly—become a household name.
“Well, it was a very good time,” he said. “One of the best of my life.”
“You must have been so disappointed to lose at the Final Four, after all that hype,” the kid said.
“Oh, no, it wasn’t like that,” Rob said. “We were so thrilled just to be there that it didn’t really hurt us at all. We were able to go to the championship game, too, and that was a big deal.”
“Who won that year? I don’t even remember that part. I only remember how sad I was that you didn’t win!”
Rob nodded. “Kansas won,” he said. “I’m pretty sure they were the top seed, so it was no big deal. Actually, I think a lot of people were let down, after watching our underdog season, to see such a predictable champion.”
The kid laughed. “That explains why I don’t even remember it.”
Rob flipped open the folder in his hands. “Kevin Norwood.”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“And you’re heading to Lackland this weekend.”
“Assuming you clear me.” Kevin smiled winningly. “I’m the picture of health, so I don’t foresee any problems.”
“No, neither do I,” Rob agreed, looking at his chart. “Everything looks good here. I just need to do a quick exam, and then you can be on your way.”
He grabbed his blood pressure cuff. Kevin held out his arm.
“So what made you choose the Air Force?” Rob asked. He had found that he was more likely to get accurate readings if he kept his patients distracted—some of them tended to get anxious when their blood pressure was being measured, and that could make the numbers spike. Kids who had their future on the line, depending on the outcome of a doctor’s assessment, were often particularly prone to that.
But Kevin was calm. “I’ve always wanted to fly,” he said. “When I was little, I was really interested in NASA, and I read about how a lot of the first astronauts started out as pilots.”
“You didn’t want to pursue space travel?”
“Eh,” he said, waving a hand. “The older I got, the more that started to feel like a childhood fantasy. You know, like when you’re a kid and you think you’re going to be a rock star or a professional football player. But the Air Force…that was within reach.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be a great airman,” Rob said. He pressed his stethoscope against Kevin’s back. “Take a deep breath for me.”
Kevin complied, and Rob was pleased. His lungs sounded strong and healthy. He was going to do just fine.
He made a few notes on the chart, then entered the data into his computer and printed out a copy. He signed it and handed it to Kevin. “Good luck out there,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll do well.”
Kevin grinned. “Thanks, Dr. Honeycutt,” he said. “Hey, do you think…” He hesitated.
“What?” Rob asked.
