My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

8

“Commander Jackson’s calling for you, Admiral,” Sparks called over the PA, “line 2, unsecured.” I was sure that it didn’t matter to anyone that the announcement might have awakened them.

“Thank you Sparks,” I replied and clicked the button on my cabin phone. “Nelson here.”

“It’s Joe, sir. There’s been a little…er…accident and…”

“I saw the BBC report. Out with it, man. How badly is Lee hurt?”

“They’re just keeping him this afternoon and overnight for observation. We’ll spend tomorrow and the next day just sightseeing at our own pace and rejoin the group in Scotland.”

“Damn it, I don’t care about your blasted tour! How badly is he hurt ?”

“Yeah, it’s him, Lee,” I heard him whisper instead of answering my question. “You sure you want to talk to him? He’s in a foul mood.”

“Put Lee on the phone!” I yelled. “Now, Commander!”

There were some shuffling noises, then my boy cleared his throat, “Harry? Sorry about the time…I um…had a little accident….”

“I know that!” I yelled. “What I want to know is….”

“If you’re going to yell, I’ll hang up,” he said firmly.

“I’m sorry,” I barely managed but it was important to say it even if I didn’t feel it.

“All right,” Lee said. “I’m stuck in a hospital bed but I’m fine. And don’t argue. Some of my hair and face got singed. Some bruises on my back, but no broken or cracked bones. Some burns, but they’ve been treated and shouldn’t be a problem if I look after them.”

“The operative word being ‘if’.”

“Harry,” he warned.

“What am I supposed to think? You’ve been known to bust medical orders before. Habitually, actually. And it looked horrendous on TV. If Will decides you need to come home, you will. I hope that’s understood.”

“You can’t order me to do stuff like that anymore.”

“I can if you want your insurance to cover any bills. Read the fine print if you don’t believe me. It’s called AMA.”

“I know all about ‘against medical advice’. Harry, honest,” he added gently, “I’m only going to be a little sore. Joe says I look a mess, but have specially treated burn bandages and ointments to apply and redress daily.  Now,” he paused, “you okay with all that? That I’m a big boy and can take care of myself? Even if I’m blind. Okay?”

“I just wish…I wish I could be there, son.”

“I wish you could, too. But promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Wouldn’t do NIMR’s reputation any good if ran off just to see me, when you’re working on something so important. I’ll be fine. Honest.”

“I’ll be good,” I said, “even if a cure is looking less and less probable. Well, if they release you to go sightseeing tomorrow, where to?”

“We’re thinking of Tintagel Castle. It was on the itinerary but we can visit it by ourselves. And it’s not too far. Since we missed good old English Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding at Merlin’s Roost, we’ll have to satisfy ourselves with Cornish Pasties and warm ale at one of the local pubs. Mrs. Piccadilly suggested one when she came to visit.”

“Warm ale, hmm? Can’t say I’d look forward to it.”

“Remind me not to tell you about what’s on the menu for Scotland.”

“Heavens. All right, son. You take care of yourself…I miss you.”

“Same here. Chip okay?”

“Nervous wreck. The entire crew is.”

“I can trust you to tell everyone that I’m okay? Truly okay?”

“Will do, son. Will do.”

“Well, I’d better say goodbye. Joe just whispered in my ear that we have some visitors. From number ten  and Buck House, he thinks.”

“I’d better leave you to them,” I laughed.

“Good night I guess,” he said, “or maybe good morning; whatever the clocks say.”

“Goodbye, son,” I said and ended the call, leaning back in my chair.

In spite of personally wanting to drag him back to Santa Barbara where the entire NIMR staff could keep an eye on him, I was going to have to convince a shipload of concerned crewmen that he was well enough to stay away.

“Admiral?” Will called out, knocking on my door.

“In.”

“They just faxed the medical report…it could have been a lot worse. That burn spray helped prevent further damage. If he follows medical advice, he should be okay…so there’s no need to drag him yelling and screaming back home.”

“Couldn’t   if I tried. He sounds as if he’s in good spirits and even he knows the dangers of untreated burns. They’ve got him on a routine already…he’ll be good, I’m sure of it. He’ll be released tomorrow morning their time. Then they’re going to Tintagel Castle and some pub for Cornish Pasties.”

“Tintagel?   Sounds familiar somehow. By the way, Chip’s pacing the deck right behind me, but knew you’d want to speak to Lee and me alone first.

“Chip?” I called out, “it’s okay. Come on in.”

“Well?” he asked as he entered. “I know what Doc says but…”

“He’s been instructed how to take care of himself. And he’s in good spirits.”

“Do you know anything about a Tintagel Castle, Chip?” Will asked.

“Tintagel? Sure, that’s where King Arthur was conceived after Merlin the Magician disguised King Uther Pendragon into Queen Ygraine’s husband’s likeness and viola....of course, pure myth.”

“And what’s a Cornish Pasty?” Will added.

“A kind of fried meat pie. Some are better than others. Of course, I’ve only had American versions…is that what Lee’s going to have, Cornish Pasties, then?”

“Apparently. And warm ale,” I said.

“Eeeyyyooo.”

“Well, Chip, we’d better announce Lee’s condition to the crew, hiding the fact that Lee’s ‘little sore’ is better translated at times into ‘sheer agony.”

Chip snorted.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Will said.

“Hopefully,” I said, waving them out of my cabin.

In seconds Sparks had put me through to the boat.

“This is Nelson. I’ve just heard from Captain Nelson-Crane. Personally. He’s a little sore, but he’s in fine spirits and will be resuming his tour tomorrow. Doctor Jamison agrees that he’s well enough to do so. That’s all.”

In spite of the news, I had a hard time falling asleep. I’d rather have flown out to see him. But duty called and I was stuck here.

As Lee often says, sometimes duty is the pits.