My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

4

 Chip and Ski were subdued during most of the flight, except for the standard FS1 piloting chatter. I had no doubt they were as worried about Lee as I. This was no damn good. I felt so selfish.

“Chip, change course,” I ordered. “Head to Annapolis. Land in the Severn and ‘park’ near the academy’s small craft marina. We can ask for some volunteers to guard FS1 and that way you and Ski can come along to visit the captain. Radio the superintendent.”

Vice Admiral Abigail Nesbit was more than pleased to accommodate us, even though I’d insisted that ours was only going to be a ‘parking’ visit and we’d be renting a car for the thirty minute drive.

Still, she’d insisted the VIP quarters were to be at our disposal and there was no doubt that the middies would be drawing straws for the honor of guarding the flying sub. She also insisted, despite having one less star than me, to provide an academy limo for our drive.

 We splashed down shortly after, to, I’m afraid to say, a great deal of fanfare including ruffles and flourishes. After FS1 had docked and was secured by Ski, we, (actually only me as befitted my rank) we were piped aboard academy property.

After the exchange of salutes, Admiral Nesbit asked if we’d care to join her for supper later that afternoon.

“Thank you,” I said, “but I was hoping to have supper with the captain if he’s up to it and if they allow it. Though, I’m sure Commanders Morton and Ames, and Seaman Kowalski would appreciate the better fare here than any kind of food Lee and I will get from the hospital cafeteria.”

It was a lame excuse, but I wanted some extra time alone with Lee.

She accepted my excuse without hesitation as everyone knew of my close and familial relationship with Lee and escorted us past all of midshipmen, at attention, to the VIP quarters to ‘freshen up’ before our drive.

It was a longer walk than I’d remembered, and I was grateful when we arrived at special quarters. The fridge was well stocked with ice cold water and a few other beverages. Chip chose Gatorade, Ski preferred water, while Ames and I chose non-alcoholic beer.

The limo was waiting, driver at the ready. The vehicle was of questionable vintage, but clean, and used, I supposed, for those pesky ‘official’ visitors who plagued the academy at times with necessary inspections.

It wasn’t long before we were whisked away to Bethesda. God, how I wanted a smoke, but managed to resist, more for the academy rules as a non-smoking environment, which probably included the car, than for my companion’s sake.

The driver finally dropped us off at the hospital entrance and I took out a wad of cash and handed it to him.

“Get yourself something to eat while you wait, if you like. We shouldn’t be too long. Seaman Kowalski will fetch you when you’re needed,” I added, nodding toward the ‘official’ parking lot.

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

I was surprised to see Will Jamison waiting in the lobby, sour look on his face.

“Well?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“He wants to tell you himself.”

“Oh gawd,” Chip said as Ski moaned about his ‘poor skipper’.

My knees felt like buckling while Ames leaned against a wall. Chip sat down, burying his head in his hands.

“I meant,” Will said, “that he wants to tell you the latest himself. I didn’t say it was going to be devastating news. Well, not technically.”

We were interrupted from asking what it was as we saw a familiar face approaching.

“Commander Jackson?” I asked, surprised by the appearance of Lee’s good friend and part time spook buddy emerge from the elevator. We all remembered when Lee had thought his friend dead and how devastated he’d been. No doubt whatever the news was, Jackson was here to lend support.

“How bad is he, Joe?” Chip asked.

Will shook his head toward Jackson before he could say anything.

“Damn it, Will,” I complained, “I want to know a little in advance. The newscast….”

“Harry?” Lee’s voice interrupted, as he emerged from the elevator. It took a moment for me to realize he had no sling, no cast and no crutch. He was garbed in a pale blue jumpsuit, with ‘Test Subject-Nelson-Crane’, ‘Wing E-2’, scrawled in black Sharpie on a white name badge attached by Velcro or some such thing. Several, but not all of his lacerations, bruises and burns were still visible, requiring more time to heal. As for his prosthesis, well, I felt quite ill from the look of it. Lee’s eyelids were red, stretched and swollen around the slightly bulging metal orb protruding further than his real eye.

“I was just going to bring them up, Skipper,” Jamison told him.

“Chip, Drew, Ski,” Lee said, pleased, “glad you could come too. Harry, you really need to check yourself in here so you can hurry the bone knitting along. Look at my arm and leg,” he said, twirling around. “They’ve healed 80 % faster than normal!”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” I asked, irritated. “I only learned about this from something your mother said to a reporter.

And it’s still risky, isn’t it? What about any unknown side effects? What if something goes wrong down the road? What if….”

“I’m fine,” Lee said, grabbing my arm, and ‘helping’ me to sit down, “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d go all ballistic on me. But it’s a done deal now. The bones might feel a little achy now and then, but that’s pretty darn insignificant, considering everything else.”

“Can,” Ski began, hesitant, then, “…can you see okay out of that thing, er, the new eye, now, Skipper?”

“Yes, and no,” Lee said and sat down next to me. “In answer to your question, Ski, this unit has been modified several times. They also installed a few more adjustments today, so you’ll all be glad to know that I’m no longer limited to shadows or pixels, unless I want them that is. I have depth perception now too. I’m not 20/20, but I can see well enough to renew my driver’s license.  And don’t worry, my eyelids will soon stretch enough over the ball so it won’t look quite so bad. While you’re all here, you might as well become familiar with it. You, especially, Ski, as you pinch hit for Doc at times.”

And so he gave us a demonstration as to detaching and reattaching the prosthesis into the metal orbital socket. It was a gruesome demonstration, and I wasn’t the only man squirming, even though there was no blood or gore or anything. It was just so damn ugly. And robotic.

Then Lee insisted Ski have some hands on experience taking it out and putting it in just in case the need arose. Three tries, two of them successful later, Lee had Jackson pick up a magazine from one of the little end tables, and put a hand over his good eye, reading one of the articles. I don’t remember what it was now, only that he was able to read most of the larger and medium print, even some of the fine.

“Like I said, not perfect, but close enough for government work,” he joked with his ‘sunshine smile’.

“Thank God,” I embraced him while everyone else began to clap him on the back.

“So, what’s the problem, Doc?” Ski asked.

“Oh,” Jackson said, “he’s just upset because Lee’s reinstated himself on ONI’s call up list.”

“At their insistence, no doubt,” I said.

“I volunteered,” Lee said.

“I don’t buy it,” Chip moaned. “But even if it’s true, “give yourself a break from agency work, for God’s sake.”

“Why? I’ll admit I’m not at my prime, but after a few missions aboard Seaview....”

“So,” Ames interrupted, “when do you get out of here?”

“Today,” Will said, “if they ever get the paperwork finished. Might not be until tomorrow.”

“It’s still delayed? Oh, good grief,” Lee sighed, and walked over to the reception desk. “Excuse me, Ensign,” he said politely, but leaning over her. I could tell he was thinking that it was a crime to put such a pretty girl into a uniform.

“I’d really like to go home with my friends,” he continued. “I  know you probably have a lot of release forms way ahead of mine, but I’d really really, really, appreciate getting back to my boat. Name’s Nelson-Crane.”

“She knows who you are, Captain,” a higher ranking hospital administrator, in fact, an admiral, said, approaching with a clipboard in hand. “Hard not to. We can’t hurry the processing along, even with the computers. And isn’t your submarine still be undergoing repairs? So you don’t really have to get back to you boat, do you.”

“Yeah, well there is that,” he sighed, but I then noticed he gave her his ‘lost puppy dog’ look. In spite of his gruesome metal orb which I was sure would have made most women unused to things medical, flee in sheer terror, that ‘lost puppy’ look  did its job  as she succumbed and assured us that she’d try to hurry things along. No promises, however, she added with a sympathetic look. Or was it predatory? Or maternal? She was, after all, my age or looked it.

“Come on, bro,” Jackson took Lee’s arm. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and changed back into uniform while we’re waiting. Just in case you can leave this place.”

“Actually,” I said, “I’ll help him, Mr. Jackson. Why

 don’t you take Chip and Ski to the cafeteria for

some snacks. It’s a while before supper time.”

He took my crutch and gave me his arm to support me to the

 elevator. After its  doors closed behind us, and we were alone, he looked at me askance.

 “You’re angry,” he said.

“I’m delighted the prosthesis is working, but….never mind. Only…”

“Go on.”

“You could have kept me in the loop about the bone growth accelerator.”

“I’m fine.”

“For now,” I said, as the elevator reached the landing. He helped me out and we walked to the dormitory room. “By the way, I sort of promised Admiral Nesbit, the academy superintendent, that some of my party would join her for supper there. Now that you’re being released, well, that includes you.”

“Thanks but no,” he replied as he opened the door to his room.

“Why? What’s wrong with a meal on the dais with the brass?” I asked as I followed him in and sat down on his bunk.

“It’s not that,” he said, setting my crutch beside me. “I…kind of know her. I’d rather not reopen old wounds.”

“Uh oh. Infractions of the rules or some such thing when you were on active duty someplace?”

“More than that,” he said.

“Go on.”

“We kind of had a date.”

“I know you sometimes enjoy the company of older women but fraternization? That’s not like you. And it shouldn’t have been on her part either.”

“She wasn’t in uniform. Neither was I…it’s a long story and I’d rather not talk about it,” he said as he began to removed his jumpsuit.

As much as I wanted to uncover the mystery, I dropped the subject, leaving it to him to let me know or not.

It wasn’t long before he was in his khaki’s, his oak leaves and Seaview insignia on his collar. He dumped his things into his duffle, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything in the bureau drawers or in the bathroom.

“Ready,” he said, extending his arm.

“No, Lad. I’ll manage,” I said, rising, and placing my crutch under my arm. “Let’s go.”

Despite the uniform, he still looked pretty awful as he was officially discharged from the hospital and joined me in the back seat of the limo, as Chip, armed with bags of assorted chips and candy bars, took his seat next to Ames, in front of us. Will had asked to come along, in order to save himself another night at the nearby Navy Lodge, and the long commercial flight home. He squished himself next to Chip, letting Ski have the passenger seat next to the driver. Protocol and all that.

“Don’t ruin your appetite, Chip,” Lee warned from his seat in the back, next to me.

“No problem with that. By the way, we called the academy. Mac & Cheese on the menu.”

“I’m not having supper.”

“I don’t recall you having any lunch or supper at the hospital,” Will said.

“I’m not hungry.”

“He’s made up his mind not to join us on the dais, Will,” I said.

“But it’s an honor,” Ames said. “I know I longed to be able to hob knob with the brass. And if they’ve gone to all the trouble to invite you…it would be a dishonor to refuse. If you were sick or something, yeah, that’s a good enough excuse, but you’re fine…aren’t you?”

“I’m fine…all right. I’ll join you. Hand over some of your stash, Chip. I want to spend as little time on the dais as possible.”

Chip relinquished a half-eaten bag of Doritos, followed by some Twix bars.

I couldn’t tell the men that Lee had a personal reason for not wanting to meet Admiral Nesbit, a reason even I didn’t know the details to.

But as Lee munched on his snacks, I could tell they were to comfort him more than fill him, in readiness for the ordeal to come.