My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

60

The worst of the seasickness has passed, though about half the crew is still down for the count. When I went topside for a breath of fresh air last night, the queasiness I thought I’d gotten over with renewed itself. I’m grateful Chip had insisted I take along a barf bag.

We only have two crates of Ginger Ale left, and one of 7-Up. Not that we’ll need them once our diving planes are fixed, but this experience has shown us that we really should have more of this bubbly beverage in stock, just in case.

Breakfast this morning was toast. Cookie didn’t even bother with bacon and eggs. Though there was cereal and milk for those more adventurous.

“Admiral?” Chip asked, as he stood at the Wardroom door, nodding to me with a wink. I knew at a glance that ‘Operation Sneaky Spy’ had begun. I grabbed a couple more pieces of buttered toast, nothing additional like peanut butter or jelly on them, and followed him to the security of his cabin.

He adjusted a few dials on the videophone, and the image from Joe’s laptop monitor formed.

It didn’t take the jerkiness of the screen to see that the boys were on a train. Of course, we were looking at Joe, but he couldn't see us due to the nature of the spy chip. He looked rather rumpled, and was pecking away at the keyboard, occasionally looking up toward the passenger opposite.

“So, you think the butler did it, Lee?” he asked.

“Well,” we could hear Lee say with a yawn, “it’s pretty apparent isn’t it?”

“Good.”

“Good? When I read a whodunit, I don’t want the villain exposed so easily.”

“Of course not. But, in my story, it turns out the butler didn’t do it. It’s going to be a ‘gotcha’ kind of story.”

Lee laughed wearily.

“Lee, why don’t  you get one of those over the counter sleep aids the next time we’re near a drug store. You know, you can’t go much longer without a decent night’s sleep.”

“The last time I tried one, I turned purple. Some kind of allergic reaction, Doc said and…”

“Don’t do that!” Joe scolded reaching over, then returned his fingers to his keyboard. “I know most of those stitches itch and are almost ready to come out but you’re still not supposed to scratch them. And you know it. Your own fault if you’ve irritated your scalp so it’s become a vicious cycle, scratch, itch, scratch, itch. I’m almost tempted to call your CMO. Not that it would do any good since you’ve pretty much alienated yourself from everyone aboard Seaview, including him and Nelson.”

“Joe,” Lee warned.

Joe left his laptop, setting it beside him, and fortunately for us, slightly sideways on the seat. We could just see Lee as Joe reached up for something on the luggage rack above him.

“I was angry with Harry,” Lee said, rubbing his temple, “I still am. He wasn’t like this before. He didn't keep me on such a tight leash before we turned things legal. I didn’t expect him to become so obsessive compulsive about me. You would have snapped too. I just couldn’t take it anymore... I can’t take it any more....and, well...even if I really considered resuming command soon, there’s no way I can now. Ever. I can’t face him...remembering what we had and how it’s all gone now.”

“And who’s fault is that?  He couldn’t help being a concerned father. Besides, I’d put most of the blame with the police dept. for the misunderstanding about your arrest. Here, take these,” Joe said handing him the aspirin bottle.

“I’m not sick.”

“Good for what ails you. And don’t tell me you don’t still have that headache. I can see you wince with every clatter and  bump on this damn train, and even just when  the sun comes out from behind the clouds.”

“Yes, mother,” Lee said, pouring out two pills and downing them with a bottle of the water at his side. "You were there," Lee continued, "you saw how he treated me and… and how I treated him. I thought I was doing the right thing, but then...”

“Then what?”

“Then I remember his eyes when I threw the ring in his face. It’s all over. Heck, it’s what I wanted! But now,” he sighed, “I’m so confused, Joe…I don’t know who I am any more...what I am...or who’s to blame in all of this...him, me, both of us? But there’s no going back.”

“You’re an idiot! Haven't you heard a word I've said? Look, I realize that you didn’t have enough time with Edward Crane to figure out how fathers are. How they act. But all families have quarrels. That doesn’t mean they stop loving each other when each is an ass. Not if they really do love each other. And you can’t fool me into thinking you really wanted to absolve your relationship. Not even in a fit of rage.  Face it, you feel  guilty as hell. You should, too!  Admit it! You’ve hardly slept because of it. Not to mention that now with Seaview’s emergency, even what little sleep you do manage to get, you’re worried sick about her too. Glad you asked the Naples Navy base to put  a team of electricians and  mechanics on call, should Chip decide he needs help when they reach Lisbon, even if he might be offended by that.”

“Too bad. If he’s the captain I think he is, he’ll do everything in his power to find the glitch and correct it, even if it means asking the Navy’s nearest base to send help. I sure wish I could be there.”

“Nothing stopping you. We don’t have to rejoin the damn tour.”

“I promised Mrs. P. we’d try. I also promised to get to the Madrid Museum on time tomorrow.”

Just then the train went through a tunnel and we lost the signal. When it came back on, Lee was stretched out on the seat and Joe was patting him on the shoulder and pulling the shades down.

“Try to rake in a few zzzz’s. And if you call me 'mother' one more time, so help me, I’ll drag you by the ear to the conductor with orders to toss you off the train.”

“Fat chance,” Lee smirked, his eyes still closed, "mother.”

“You know what you need?” Joe asked as he sat down on the edge of the seat, “a little camping trip. The ONI kind. That would sure take your mind off your impasse.”

“Hmm. That’s an idea.”

“I was joking!”

“Already turned in my application for full time reassignment to the agency or a Navy boat. But there’s the complication of my retirement. The Navy might not let me re-up. But I can’t continue with NIMR. I’d have to see Harry on almost a daily basis when he's there...I don’t think I could stand him looking at me as if I were pond scum. And I already miss Seaview…I miss her so much it hurts.”

“You see? You’re still smitten with her. That’s what makes you the best man for the job. Oh, Chip’s a good enough captain. A better XO than captain, but he’s not obsessed with her like you are.”

“The matter’s closed, Joe. Now, get back to your story and….hey! Look!” he added, sitting up and pointing out the window.

“So, it’s another  hiking trail.”

“But look at the scenery! If the next stop isn’t far,  we can leave our bags there, and….”

“Are you nuts? You’re exhausted and you want to take a hike? We sailed like mad to get to Corfu, just so we could get the ferry and trains to rejoin Mrs. P., and now you want to delay things again?”

“You want me to stop thinking about things, don’t you? Well, a hike through that scenery will do just the thing!”

“What about your headache?”

“The aspirin’s already working.”

“Liar. And if you want to take a hike, you’ll do it alone. I’m not going with you.”

“Joe!”

“I mean it.”

“Fine. It will save me from renting a locker at the station anyway. My luggage can stay here on the train with you, and you can take it to the hotel for me.”

He began to pull down his luggage and change into walking shorts, heavy socks and sneakers. (They were in a compartment as is the usual layout in European trains.)

“Ah, c’mon with me, Joe. It’s the perfect way to relax.”

“That’s what I’m doing now!”

“Think of it as badly needed exercise then.”

“We had enough exercise aboard the sailboat keeping her from capsizing or sinking!”

The image and audio failed as the train went through another tunnel.

Chip and I anxiously awaited for the return of the laptop’s signal, but to no avail. Joe must have turned it off.

“Well, did you record things so we can replay it for Will?” I asked.

“Yes…what is it, sir?”

“He was reconsidering command, Chip,” I mused, “before…our falling out.”

“Yes, which means, there’s still hope, no matter what he thinks right now.”

“Well, you can hardly expect him to pop by and say ‘Hiya, Dad, you know I hate you, but  can I have the keys to Seaview and the flying sub on Saturday night?' ”

“He hasn’t quit NIMR yet, sir.”

“No, not yet," I mused, "Chip, I have to go to Madrid, and get back that fax before he goes there.”

“But sir,” Chip said a bit too patiently, “you said your plans were to show him you loved him by agreeing to what he wanted.”

“He doesn’t know what he wants! He said so! What if he takes the form the wrong way? As if I want to dissolve things!”

“You included a letter of explanation. Lee may be moody, broody, and a pain in the ass at times, but he can read.”

“I know, I know,” I said, then, “still, prepare the flying sub. I want to get to Madrid ASAP. ”

“Very well.  Who will pilot?”

“I’ll pilot.”

“Not in your present state, you won’t. How  about Kowalski? He’s feeling better.”

“Fine, fine… but hurry, Chip.”

“Aye sir. Will you want to bunk in the same hotel the Piccadilly group will be at?”

“Whatever…just get me a room and contact airport security in Madrid that we’re coming.”

And so, as I packed, Will studied the recording, enlarging some of it.

“Well?” I asked.

“Frankly, I’m more concerned about the insomnia. If it goes on too long it can lead to dangerous side effects…even collapse.”

My legs felt like rubber (again) and Will grabbed my arms and sat me down on my bunk.

“He’s stressed, depressed, and running on adrenaline. That hike might be just the thing to lift his spirits, but now is not a good time. Admiral, I know he might not like it, but I think a little intervention is called for. Perhaps an anonymous tip to the Italian Parks and Recreation Dept., or whatever agency  serves for it there is in order.”

“Lee would know the tip was from us.”

“How? No way he’d know we were spying on him.”

“He’s a trained ONI field agent! He’d figure it out in a snap. And then there’d be no hope for us to resolve our differences. Ever again. ”

Will looked at me with a raised eyebrow that said everything.

“Oh very well,” I said, “I assume you got the name of the hiking trail from the recording?

“Yes.”

“Lee still might be able to trace the call to us.”

“Not if I contact a fellow doctor to make the call. One not even in California. We don’t have to use Lee and Joe’s names even. Just a description.”

“Somehow I still think Lee will figure it out.”

“You have to decide what’s more important. Your relationship with Lee, his health, or his life.”

And so the Azure Scogliera Trails Hiking Club was notified by the Italian government to be on the lookout for two Americans, one of whom might have an unknown medical condition requiring attention.

The anonymous tip came from Arizona. From a cardiologist who couldn’t bring himself to divulge any further patient information (in fact, I doubted Will had told him just who he was concerned about)

All Dr. ‘Arizona’ described was ‘tall, black hair, thin’, walking with his ‘tall, brown hair, and sturdy’ brother. Descriptions that could apply to any number of hikers.

Later, as I was getting signed in at the hotel’s front desk, I was startled by a rather loud, “Admiral! We didn’t expect you to join us!”

Even before I turned, I knew who it was. Mrs. Piccadilly and the tour group had just arrived.

“Er, nice to see you.”

“Where…where are the boys?” she asked, looking around.

“Delayed,” I said simply.

“Oh dear. Do you think they’ll be able to join us for dinner?”

“I doubt it.”

“But you will?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Admiral,” the clerk said, handing me my key card, “Room 212. No suites were available.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, dear,”Mrs. P. said, “I do hope our group hasn’t taken all of them. Well, I mustn’t detain you. We plan on dinner in the hotel restaurant at eight.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Afternoon,” I said, and headed to the elevator.

I could hear the crowd in the lobby as the tour group got checked in, and was grateful for a head start as the elevator doors closed.

Almost as soon as I entered my room I phoned the museum, but it had already closed. Unfortunately there was no voice mail. I’d have to get there early tomorrow morning before it opened at 1000.

It was stupid of me to haunt the television for news. There was  no way the authorities would  have found Lee yet. How would he react, being taken to the nearest hospital for a cardiac exam? There was nothing wrong with his heart, but medical tests would certainly discover the side effects that Doc was so concerned about. That was the main thing.

Soon it was past midnight, and there hadn’t been a damn word. Surely CNN would have coverage of Captain Nelson-Crane’s medical emergency in Spain. What if he’d had an accident, tumbled down a cliff, or what if...he and Joe had somehow managed to elude the very people looking for them....

This is no good. I’m letting all the ‘what if’s keep me from sleep. I’ve also let them keep me from calling room service for a bite. My choices are pretty much what one would expect for American tourists. And I certainly don’t want to risk an upset stomach from an otherwise delicious (I think) Paella. I think I’ll play it safe. Hot buttered toast and scrambled eggs should see me off to sleep.

Again.