My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
20E
I was asleep, happily
dreaming of home and Emmie when someone shook my shoulder.
“Sir? Sir?” Kowalski
was saying. “I knocked but you didn’t answer. The skip would’ve woken you but
he’s busy with the SecNav.”
He turned on the
monitor where CNN was broadcasting a breaking news story….
“….The president,”
the grim faced reporter was saying, “remains in a coma after the attempted
assassination, a bullet lodged in his brain. Specialists have been called in to
operate. The vice president, shot in the chest, is dead. No sooner than the
Speaker of the House took the oath of allegiance as interim president, he
suffered a severe heart attack and stroke.
“According to the law, the next in line to take over presidential duties
until the upcoming election some eight months hence, is the president pro tem
of the senate, who’s already taken the oath, but if something happens to him,
then he’ll be followed by the secretary of state. The candidates for the
presidency are requesting the election date be moved up to tomorrow with the
inauguration to follow immediately. Congress is in emergency session to
consider.
“As for the assassin,
it appears the teenager is mentally unstable, and was copycatting a cartoon
series on TV. It is doubtful criminal charges will be filed, though he’s being
held in psychiatric custody at a juvenile facility.”
The image faded to
outside the capital building.,
“We’ve just learned
that congress has been inundated with requests that Captain Nelson-Crane be
made interim president until the election. Something that both the acting
president and secretary of state have heartily agreed to consider and are
putting it to a vote.
“There’s just one
problem. As you may remember, the
captain refused to consider running for office. But, as this is an emergency
and only temporary, it’s hoped that if there is a majority vote in congress
that he’ll agree. The secretary of the Navy is in touch with the captain right
now, informing him of the possibility.”
“The Seaview is right
about here,” another reporter said, pointing to a map. “In spite of the famous
flying sub’s supersonic speed, it would still take it about three hours to get
to Washington and would need permission to fly at that speed across the
continental United States. But despite sonic booms, it’s highly likely that if
the captain is voted in and accepts the job, no one will care about any noise
in the heavens.”
“We will bring you
the latest as it happens.”
“Contact us by phone
or email to tell us who you’d prefer in office, one of the candidates already
running for president, or Captain Nelson-Cane. We will remain on the air to
bring you further developments as they happen.”
“Admiral? Admiral?”
Ski asked, bringing me out of my stupor. “Can congress make him? Even if he
doesn’t want it?”
“The captain always
does his duty,” I said, wearily, knowing how much Lee didn’t want the job.
“But you can talk him
out of it, surely.”
“Kowalski, how can
you have you been aboard Seaview with the captain all this time and you still
don’t understand how he thinks?”
“Yeah, I do, sir.
That’s the problem. All those other people can handle the job. Some of em’ want
to. The skip’s needed here.”
“Even if I asked him
not to go, you know he would put the nation above what he or I want.”
Just then there was a
knock on the door frame.
“Harry? Can I speak
with you…”Lee began then saw the monitor while CNN scrolled the news on the
bottom of the screen and interviewed various members of the public.
“I er…”Ski said.
“Whatever you decide, Skipper. I’ll back you up. But…er…never mind. I’ll be in
the crew’s mess if you need me.”
“Fine, Ski,” I said,
“thanks.”
Ski closed the door
behind him and left his captain to discuss things with me alone.
“Well, Lad?” I asked,
looking up at Lee.
“I don’t know,” he said
softly, beginning to pace. “I hope I’m not placed in the position to have to
decide. The candidates can do much better job than me.”
“The people don’t
think so.”
“They’re only jumping
on the bandwagon that my mom started before all of this.”
“I’m not so sure,
Lad.”
“And the president
might make a full recovery. And quicker than anyone expects. And the president
pro tem of the senate’s already acting president.”
“Do you want my
advice?”
“Yes, no. No. I have
to make this decision on my own. Harry, it’s like being torn in two. I’m a sub
driver, not a politician.”
“I know,” I said,
rising and embraced him. “And whatever happens, whatever you have to decide,
I’ll back you up. Everyone aboard will.”
“If I go…I can come
back, can’t I?”
“Of course, son. It’s
only temporary.”
“What if…what if the
job changes me…things would be different between me and Seaview…between you and
me, and everyone.”
“You can only do what
your heart tells you to do. Personally, I don’t want you to become president.
Not even for a day. The job’s fraught with tension, danger….”
“Putting up with
congress…”he said, trying to laugh. But his eyes were haunted.
“And I’d miss you. So
would your crew. And the institute would suffer your loss even for a little
while.”
“God, I don’t want to
go,” he added leaning his hand on the bulkhead, bowing his head. Then he
clicked the intercom on my desk.
“Sparks, this is the
captain. Get me the secretary of the Navy. He’s my liaison in this affair. I’ll
be down in a minute.”
“Aye sir.”
“You’d better get dressed,
Harry. Don’t want you looking like someone who just got out of bed.”
I almost asked him
what his decision was and why he’d still been in uniform at the hour. But then
I realized he’d probably been notified of the assassination attempt when it
first happened and hadn’t even been to bed.
My hands were shaking
when I finished buttoning my shirt and headed to the Control Room. More men
than strictly necessary were there, anxious, like I was for Lee’s decision.
Then I saw that the men weren’t looking at the screen images of the secretary
of Navy, secretary of state, and votes being tallied in both houses of
congress.
Lee was in the
Observation Nose, hid hand braced against the view port, head bowed, as if he
were praying. Then he patted it, sighed, and headed our way. Soon he was
standing in front of live feed to the secretaries and congress.
He signaled to the
secretary of the Navy, “If they want me, I’m theirs.”
My legs felt like
rubber. The votes were still being taken, but there really wasn’t any doubt of
the outcome.
My heart ached. For
Lee’s sacrifice, and my loss. I doubted I’d be able to visit or even call
often, he’d be so busy with national and international business.
Then the live image
from Seaview’s radio shack appeared on the screen next to the image of the
tallied votes from both the senate and the house. It was done.
I held my breath.
The acting speaker of
the house banged his gavel.
“Captain
Nelson-Crane, do you accept the position of interim president of the United
States, beginning now?”
“I do,” Lee said to
the relieved applause.
The chief justice
strode to the podium.
“This is a little
awkward, you being someplace down deep below, but times being what they are,
we’ll make do with administering the oath of office remotely. Is there a bible
aboard your submarine? Not strictly necessary, but it is a tradition if you’d
like to follow it.”
O’Brien and Chip had
done their research, just in case. The sacred book (at least to many aboard)
was handed to me.
Me? Hold the
scriptures that Lee was going to swear an oath on? I felt weak. Undeserving for
the honor.
“Captain, place your
right hand on the bible,” the justice said.
Lee faced me and did
so. Calmly and reverently.
“Repeat after me,”
the justice began. “I do solemnly swear or affirm that I will
faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to
the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the
United States.”
With his
eyes turning toward the screen, and the gazillion of viewers across
the globe Lee began.
“I
do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President
of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and
defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God.”
He hadn’t been
required to use the addendum referencing the almighty. But it was no
affectation and I knew he meant every word. He’ll need the Lord’s help, that’s
for sure.
“Congratulations, Mr.
President,” the justice said, then waited for the applause to quiet down as Lee
confirmed he’d be arriving in Washington via the flying sub asap.
After Sparks ended
the call, there was silence aboard Seaview. Pride and loss. Not a dry eye
aboard.
“Commander Morton,”
Lee said, removing his ‘command at sea’ pip and pinning on Chip’s collar, “you
have command. Take good care of her for me.”
“No sweat, Lee, er, I
mean, yes, Mr. President.”
“Lee to you, Chip,
Harry. Always. Sparks? I need to call my mom via Mrs. Nelson. Pipe it though to
my videophone. I need to let her know I’ll be living at a new address for
awhile.”
“I think she probably
already knows the address, son,” I said, patting and taking his arm, escorting
the new president of the United States down the corridor to his soon to be
deserted cabin.
New president.
Temporary, yes, but
president just the same.
As soon as he turned
on the videophone, I departed, even though I could tell he had wanted me to
stay. But I felt he needed a little quiet time with his mother.
I’d return shortly to
say my goodbye’s in private, but there wasn’t much to say except ‘good luck’.
My mind was in a whirlwind of pride and fear. His, well, sadness most of all. I
could see it in his eyes. For a moment I thought he might scrap the whole
thing. But he’s made of sterner stuff than I and he gave me a final farewell
hug.
He’s been aloft in
the flying sub for awhile now, probably trying very hard not to take the
joystick from Chip or Ski. Contemplating his future.
The flying sub’s sonic
booms are already announcing the craft’s path over the continent. No doubt the
police will be at the selected dock on the Potomac to whisk him away to the
White House in an official limo. He won’t like being driven by
someone else. He’s such a ‘hands on’ person.
He’s promised to call
me as soon as he’s all settled in the White House. He’ll be given a guest bedroom
while the downed president’s wife moves out. She doesn’t have to, Lee wanted
that made clear, telling everyone that he believed the president would be on
the mend soon. But she insisted saying it was pretty doubtful her husband would
be resuming office. In a couple of days Lee will be firmly established in the
presidential suite.
Ronald’s had a few
things to say on the news, all uncomplimentary. But nobody’s paid him much
attention, thank goodness.
I’m about to call
Emmie, and am hoping that she and I can actually talk. About what? Well, about
Lee is a given. But I also have something else to talk about. Like our plans
for that cottage by the sea. And how she wants her pearls set. There are twenty
three now. None match. But all are beautiful. Just like her.
The breaking news has
interrupted my planned call. CNN is covering the flying sub’s arrival in
Washington. Kowalski has his duffle, and Chip is giving him a final salute as
Lee disembarks. Lee’s wearing a suit. But on his collar, he’s wearing Seaview’s
ship’s wheel insignia. Yes, my boy. They can take the captain away from the
Seaview, but they can’t take the Seaview away from her captain.
Yes, Lad, she’ll be
waiting for you. So will all that paperwork that Ames will be relieved to get
some help with.
And most of all, son,
your mother, Emmie and I will be waiting for you when you come home.
Harriman Horatio
Nelson
