My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
4B
After we cleared the
main gate to the academy, we passed by isolated groups of young men and women
being yelled at by upperclassmen. Most academic and PT classes were over for
the day, but there were still various drills and punishment ‘tours’ for the
middies to contend with.
At first nobody gave
the limo a glance. They were used to the officialdom that was part of academy
life and one academy limo looked pretty much like any of the others.
But their eyes soon turned
toward us as driver stopped at our guest quarters. Nelson was back.
The driver opened my
door before the others, and Ski helped me out, as I was encumbered with the
crutch. Ames assisted from then on. Will and Chip waited for Lee. After all, he
was still the main object of the trip.
It was when Lee
emerged, the sunlight on his uniform jacket’s stripes, his rings, and on his
metal eyeball, that the nearby middies went wild, protocol be damned.
Calls of ‘way to go,
Captain!’ ‘Welcome aboard’, and applause echoed across the grounds from one
group to another as they saw what the commotion was about.
I could tell he was
embarrassed, looking like he wanted to bury himself in a hole. But then he
smiled and waved to everyone.
As the proverbial
saying goes, all hell broke loose. Yes, he’s right up there with John Paul
Jones in their eyes. Mine too, but that goes without saying.
“Welcome back,
Admiral.” Admiral Nesbit said, hopping out of a golf cart, saluting, which I
returned as my companions stood at attention awaiting her acknowledgement of
them which quickly followed.
It
was with some sorrow that the middies
obeyed the order to return to their various activities.
“Captain,” she asked,
with a slight flush I’m sure only I saw, “does this mean the experiments were
successful?”
“Well enough that I
won’t have to endure any more hospital food!”
“You certainly won’t
get that here. And I’ve added brownies to the dessert list.”
Now it was Lee’s turn
to flush. Yes, they certainly shared some kind of past. Romantic or familial, I
wouldn’t hazard to guess.
“I’ll send the limo
back to drive you to King Hall in time for supper,” she continued, all
business, as she hopped back into her
golf cart and was whisked away, our driver following.
With a sigh of relief,
Lee entered the quarters first. Was it relief that the multitudes had thinned
out, or the fact that Nesbit hadn’t made any indication that they’d ever met.
Or done anything together. If they had, that is.
“We’re not going to
stay the night, then, are we, now, sir?” Ames asked me as I grabbed a beer from
the fridge.
“Absolutely not,” Lee
said, before I could respond, as he helped himself to a jumbo sized Ginger Ale.
“Don’t drink the
whole thing, Lee,” Chip warned, “you’ll spoil your supper.”
“Good. The sooner
I’ll be able to excuse myself, the better.”
“But the brownies….”
“I just want to go
home.”
Chip looked aghast.
Refusing a chance to have brownies was akin to refusing to say the pledge of
allegiance. No doubt Will was wondering if a medication’s side effect had
kicked in.
“I’m fine,” Lee said,
exasperated. “I just don’t like all this attention everyone’s giving me.”
“Live with it,” Chip
said. “So, after supper, where are you going? Home to visit your mom? It’s not
too far away. Or back to Santa Barbara with us?”
“I’m not so sure
she’d want to see me like this, not until my eyelids stretch and can help make
‘Igor’ here look less horrifying.”
“Igor? You named your
eyeball Igor?” Ames asked.
“It’s a common enough
name in monster movies,” Ski said, “oh gawd…I’m sorry, Skipper…”
Lee simply laughed
and slapped the crewman on the back.
I informed Ski that
supper in King Hall was usually served buffet style, unlike breakfast and
lunch, although the plebes still had to eat in in four-square fashion. But I
also told him, that as we were the admiral’s guests, we’d be seated at the long
table on the dais with her and the senior officers.
“Yeah, right there in
front of everyone,” Lee said sourly, then, with a grin, “not a good place to be
if you have to pick your nose or scratch anything.”
We had a few hours to
kill, so Chip asked Ames, Will, and Ski if they wanted a tour of the grounds.
Ames and Will weren’t grads of the place, and while Ski probably wasn’t
interested in the stomping grounds of officer wannabes, he would enjoy seeing a
little bit of where his skipper had spent four years of his life.
I was grateful that
Chip had been able to tell that I’d really, really, really, wanted to talk to
Lee alone. In minutes Lee and I were alone together again.
“No,” Lee said, from the
recliner, his eyes closed, before I could force myself to ask about his
relationship with Nesbit again.
“Just curious, Lee. I
mean, if there had been something somebody remembered or found out, well, you
could find yourself in hot water and….”
“Nothing happened,”
he said, irritated, opening his eyes, “might have. Could have. Wanted it to.
And that’s all I’m going to say about it. Wake me up when the car gets here. Or
better yet, give my regrets to Abs, er, the admiral. Tell her my meds are
causing me some tummy troubles or something.”
“You want me to lie
for you?”
“Darn tootin’,” he
said, closing his eyes.
“If you want to lie,
do it yourself. It’s not as if she’s going to bring up anything in public, no matter
what it was between you. I can’t believe you’re scared. You’re only
embarrassed.”
“All right,” he said,
rising and began to pace, “I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to go. Case closed.”
“I’m not asking you
to give me the details, Lad. I respect your privacy. But, I do demand you at
least be civil toward the superintendent of the academy and that includes
accepting her invitation to dine with her and the senior staff. I hope
I’ve made myself clear.”
“Crystal, Admiral,
sir.”
“Damn it, Lee!”
“Sorry,” he said, a
little contrite, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I’m just…never mind.”
He said nothing more,
so I let it stand. He returned to the recliner, and I told him I felt like
meandering around the grounds with my memories. In minutes the golf cart I requested
arrived, and I was off.
By the time I
returned, the men, except for one, were standing by the promised limo.
“The Skipper’s not
feeling up to supper, sir,” Ski said.
So, Lee was going to
hide, after all.
“I wanted to stay
with him,” Chip said, “but he won’t let me give up the brownies.”
“How convenient,” I
said.
“Do I detect a note
of disbelief?”
“Unless Will can give
me a diagnosis, yes.”
“What I think, I
can’t repeat in polite company,” Will said as we got into the limo.
Nobody spoke during
the short drive. My men were tuned to my moods and knew I was in a bad one. We
were met by Admiral Nesbit and some of the senior officers. Introductions and
pleasantries exchanged without Nesbit inquiring about Lee’s absence. Could it
be she was relieved a little bit?
“I’ve arranged for us
to be served by the stewards tonight, Admiral,” she said. “A little more
convenient due to your broken leg.”
“Thank you, Admiral.
I appreciate it.”
It was as we were
being served our salads, that the middies nearest the main door suddenly rose
to attention. Table by table, the rest followed suit. Nobody had ordered it.
Then we saw the object of their attention.
“Captain on deck!”
one of the first classmen, the Brigade Commander it turned out to be, yelled.
The actions weren’t strictly following protocol as there were higher ranking
officers present. But Lee was the kind of officer they all hoped to emulate.
Besides, he’d been awarded his nation’s highest honors, hadn’t he? One by one
the senior officers on the dais rose as well, including Nesbit. I nodded to
my men and we followed suit.
Lee gave the
assemblage an embarrassed grin and ordered
‘at ease’, then began the long walk toward the dais, past the male
middies regarding him with awe and the female middies with sensual adoration.
Nesbit asked lee to
take the vacant chair to her right. I had wondered about that vacant chair when
we’d first been seated, as I was the ranking officer here. She’d been saving it
for Lee and must have had some kind of hope that he’d make an appearance.
Soon things settled
down as the stewards served Lee his salad. The entre’ wasn’t long in coming.
After all, the dining hall, like the rest of the academy, was on a schedule.
Of course, Chip
needed no encouragement to finish off the Mac & Cheese, eagerly awaiting
dessert.
“I’d almost forgotten
how good everything is here,” he complimented Nesbit.
“Yes, though I’m sure
you have excellent meals aboard Seaview.”
“As long as Cookie
stays away from the Spam,” Kowalski said, immediately contrite, looking at me,
probably wondering if I was going to make him walk the plank later. After all
Spam had a long shelf life, the perfect emergency protein, a product I required
stored ashore and aboard.
“What about you, Captain?”
she asked, “do you hate Spam as much as your crewman?”
“Well, ma’am,” he
said, “I can’t say I hate it. Cookie does prepare a dish called Spam Hawaiian
that’s really quite tasty. And of course, Mallie loves it.”
“You have a female
cook?”
“Mallie is short for
Maleficent,” Lee said, “our ship’s cat.”
“Ah, yes, I remember,
now.”
“And we get Spam
cheap from Army surplus,” Chip said.
“Really? Army
surplus?” Nesbit asked, aghast.
“Afraid so,” I said.
“Even I have to watch the budget. We’re not subsidized by the government unless
we’ve been called to active service.”
“But otherwise, your
food is palatable?”
“Oh, yeah,” Ski said,
“it’s real good, ma’am. You know how most submariners gain about ten pounds per
cruise? Well, Doc here can tell you that sometimes we average about fifteen!”
“A little more than
that, actually,” Doc confirmed, “if it’s an especially long or difficult mission.
Except, of course for the captain. He usually loses weight on a cruise. Uses up
too much adrenaline.”
“I noticed you didn’t
have much of the Mac & Cheese, Beau, and…” Nesbit stopped herself cold.
“Beau?” her aide, Lt.
Williams asked.
“My middle name is
Beauregard,” Lee said, coming to Nesbit’s rescue, “Beau for short. Sometimes
older Navy files mix up my first and middle names. Even my mother used it
sometimes. But usually only when I was in trouble. You know, ‘Lee Beauregard
Crane, wait till your father gets home.”
“Er, yes,” the Lt.
said as we chuckled at this little glimpse into Lee’s past. But the Lt. could
tell; we all could. It wasn’t that the admiral had been influence by reading an
old file. The shortened ‘Beau’ had been used as a term of affection.
“I’d hoped you’d
enjoy the dish,” Nesbit said, “I can arrange for something else, if you prefer?
Bacon and scrambled eggs, perhaps?”
“No, please don’t
bother. I’m not really hungry.”
“You never
are…or so I’ve been told.”
It was time for
dessert, and the delectable chocolate brownies, two each, topped with vanilla
ice cream were served. Lee’s dish, unlike the rest of ours, also had large pats
of butter on the side.
“Butter on brownies?”
Ames muttered, confused.
“The captain prefers
chocolate brownies with butter. A family tradition, I was informed.”
I doubted she’d been
‘informed’. She ‘knew’.
“It also goes well
with chocolate cake,” Lee said. “Here, Chip,
have some,” he added, scraping a pat off his plate and putting it on
Chip’s.
“Thanks,” Chip said.
“I’ll try anything once.”
I could tell Chip was
in heaven at the first bite.
We were still consuming
dessert when the clock chimed and the midshipmen reluctantly began to clear out
to resume their scheduled duties, study time, etc. Most cast backward glances
at Lee, just soaking in his presence.
Lee surprised us with
his request to visit the kitchen in order to compliment the food service
workers, but I had a sneaky suspicion he was actually on the prowl for more
brownies.
But if Lee thought he
might enjoy the visit on his own, he was mistaken as Nesbit insisted on
escorting him personally.
I wondered if I
should intrude and accompany them. But Lee might figure I was fishing for info
between them.
I was beginning
to believe that not going along had been a mistake, as we’d been back in the
VIP quarters a full hour and a half before Lee rejoined us. There weren’t any
lipstick stains on his collar or perfume on his person that I could tell, so
nothing untoward had happened, at least nothing that left any tell-tale signs.
He plopped a paper
bag on the kitchen counter, and sat down on the sofa, stretching his legs out.
“Help yourself to
extra brownies,” he said. “Warm out of the oven.”
As Chip raided the
bag first, the other men in line, Will approached Lee.
“You look exhausted,”
Will said. “Those bones bothering you again? Your eyelids?”
“I’m fine, Will.”
“At least let me take
your BP and temperature again. And help you with the eye drops.”
I was surprised that
Lee didn’t object.
While Will and Lee
patiently awaited the thermometer’s results, I wondered if the press had gotten
wind that Lee had been discharged from Bethesda and turned on the TV.
They had.
I was surprised there
were no pictures of Lee. But then remembered that phones and cameras were not allowed
on any middie’s person except when in their rooms, or ‘off duty’. And it was
doubtful that anyone at Bethesda had taken any pictures or videos.
“…Yes,
he’s fine,” Mrs. Crane said, glowing.
“Everything is working fine, including the new eye, even though it’s ugly as
hell. Would you believe he’s calling it Igor? And his bones are all just about
fixed too. No more casts. In fact, he’s
asked me to join him in Santa Barbara for the rest of his leave, that’s what
the Navy and the institute calls vacation.”
“But don’t you have
claustrophobia?” the reporter asked, “how are you going to manage the flight?”
“Well, I managed to
visit for the Nelson wedding, didn’t I? Sometimes you just have to grit your
teeth, and think of the reason you’re enduring the anxiety.”
I turned off the TV
and Will reported that Lee really was ‘fine’.
“Harry?” Lee asked.
“We heard that news report. I have an idea. Something that will kill two birds
with one stone.”
“Go on.”
“How about you giving
me a flight test on FS1 that will satisfy the FAA, then we land off the cape or
Boston or something, pick up Mom and fly her back to Santa Barbara with us.”
“You seem pretty sure
of yourself that I’m agreeable. Besides, the jump seats are mighty
uncomfortable.”
“She be up front with
me.”
“Well, some of us
wouldn’t be.”
“I don’t mind the
jump seats, Admiral,” Ski said.
“And I have a hard
ass,” Ames said, “or so Angie says. Comes from all that sitting around I do.”
“I’ll
just take a nap on the bunk,” Will
added.
“Well, Harry?” Lee
asked.
“Oh good grief, I
give up. Chip? Contact the FAA and let them know I need their approval to put
the captain through his paces to renew his specialized aircraft license as
their liaison.”
The organization
wasn’t happy about the request, but they went ahead and approved our plans.
Soon we bid farewell to Admiral Nesbit and departed the academy.
I
wondered what the news would say of the
flying sub’s maneuvers as we headed from Annapolis to Cape Cod. Oh, I put Lee
through his paces, checking off the various skills he had to prove he had,(up,
down, sideways, splash down, launch, rollovers, and instruments) but as he did
a few more of the feats than strictly
necessary, especially the rollovers and upside downs, I was beginning to regret
my decision. Lee
was clearly enjoying himself far too much.
We splashed down near
a ramshackle dock, used primarily by locals who enjoyed a little shoreline
fishing. Right then, however, it was crowded with Mrs. Crane’s friends, wishing
her well as she boarded FS1.
Lee strapped her in
himself, in the co-pilot’s seat, explained a few things, what would happen and
that ‘Chipee’ was right behind her if she or Lee needed him. I was seated
behind Lee, he told her, because I needed more leg room for my cast, than what
the jump seats had.
Even I knew the more
‘space’ his claustrophobic mother had up front, the better, so any excuse would
do.
But what if the craft
had a problem, I couldn’t help thinking. What if the atmospheric pressure
failed? What if the power or controls failed while we were in flight? What if
we plummeted to earth or to the sea before Chip could reach over Mrs. Crane to
help Lee with the controls?
“Hatch is secured,
Skipper,” Ski said, interrupting my ‘what if’s while he took his very small,
hard metal jump seat next to Ames, and strapped in. “We’re all secured,” he
added, taking a backward glance at the bunk, where Doc had raised the ‘don’t
fall out’ bar and raised his thumb.
“Very well,” Lee said
then turned to his mother, “radar doesn’t show any inclement weather so it
should be a smooth flight. But, you can still back out if you want, Mom….I can
visit you here if you prefer.”
“No, sweetie,” she
smiled nervously, patting his hand, “you go ahead and take us up into the wild
blue yonder…”
And so, Lee began to
flip switches, and took the joy stick, propelling us out to sea, and then up
into the sky.
Once we were on
autopilot, Lee reached for his mother’s hand in order to comfort her. But she
insisted he return it to the controls, auto pilot or not.
“I understand you
munched down a few brownies at the academy,” she said, “so how about I bake you
all some cookies when I’m settled in with Lee. By the way, son, just where will
we be staying? At the little apartment above the shop you share with Harriman
at times, your other place, or a hotel? I hope you’re not thinking about the
sub.”
“Actually,” he said,
“she still has a little way to go with repairs before she’s back in commission.
I found a nice little condo for rent on the beach through the internet. Used a
non de plum for the realtor, though. Hope you don’t mind. We’re the Glenn’s
from Boston in case anyone asks. After we land at the institute, and I check on
Seaview, we’ll drive on down.”
“Er, Lee,” Chip
asked. “Aren’t you forgetting that you still have to renew your driver’s
license?”
“Oh, shit, I forgot
about that. We’ll stay above the shop tonight and drive down tomorrow after I
get renewed. Okay?”
“I can take you to
the DMV tomorrow, Skipper,” Ski said.
“That’s very sweet of
you, Kowalski,” Mrs. Crane said, turning and giving him a huge smile.
“Aw, ain’t nothing.”
By the time we neared
Santa Barbara, Mrs. Crane had relaxed enough to fall asleep. Lee woke her to
warn her of our upcoming splash down.
In spite of the hour
and time difference, it was still late, but we could see crowds of institute
employees on the well illuminated outcrop, pointing and waving.
Because Seaview was
in dry dock, we wouldn’t be heading to the sub pen, only to the exterior dock,
where, thankfully, the remnants of Lee’s blown up sailboat had finally been
completely removed.
Once we were secured,
with Ski and Ames offloading the luggage, and Will assisting me to the dock,
Lee helped his mother ashore.
There was applause
from the staff, and salutes from the crewmen, most technically still on leave.
Angie had procured a small bouquet of daisies for Mrs. Crane, and Emily
embraced and kissed me passionately.
After a quick check
of Seaview, Lee and Mrs. Crane accepted Emmie’s invitation for lunch tomorrow
as they headed to the little apartment above my office, and Emmie and I headed
to our bungalow.
It’s very late now, and the return of Captain
Nelson-Crane
is in all the news, but Emmie and I have other things on our minds just now as
that sheer negligee she’s just taken out of the closet can attest to.
Sure is good to be home.