My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

13

I had barely woken this morning when I was summoned back to the White House. I didn’t even have time to shave.

“He didn’t say why?” Jiggs asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as I finished brushing my teeth.

“No, it was the switchboard telling me that the president was ordering me to report asap, no details given. They’re sending a car.”

“I don’t suppose I can come along?”

“Why not. But you might have to wait outside the Oval Office.”

“Fair enough.”

The exterior lights were still on when we arrived via the sedan. Shiny black, like all of them, but this one didn't have blackout windows, so the  National Guard waved as we drove through the gate to the back entrance again.

Instead of a steward, Joe, greeted us with a snappy salute, forgetting that he was in sweats, and it wasn’t exactly protocol.

“It’s okay, sir,” he told me, “just wants you to do a little errand for him. He’s not expecting you, Admiral Starke, but…”

I raised a menacing eyebrow.

“You’d better come along anyway,” Joe told Jiggs, who had a difficult time keeping his smirk from turning into laughter. While Jiggs was technically an underling to Lee, who as president, out ranked both of us, I had the clout of being the president’s father.

Joe escorted us to the Oval Office after a quick security check I was getting damn tied of. The Secret Service still wasn’t taking any chances especially since Lee was almost shot.

Lee was at his desk, in his very unofficial light blue chambray shirt and black jeans and white socks. His sneakers lay on the floor beside the desk. The curtains behind had already been opened to the early morning light.  

Lt. Numbers was bending over some reports on the desk and both were ignoring the holographic ‘blueprint’ of the alien harvester hovering to the side.

“Admirals Nelson and Starke, Mr. President,” Joe announced formally.

“What took you…so… long, Nel-son?” Numbers asked me rudely.

“That’s enough,” Lee reprimanded him. “Thank you for coming at such short notice, Harry. Numbers has agreed to return to Seaview with you. I’ve already sent Chip the coordinates where you’ll be conducting some tests with a scale model version of the harvester I had the Army Corps of Engineers build overnight based on Number’s blueprints and…”

“You are still… wasting…time," Numbers said. “Your sci-en-tists have assured you  that the amount of salt and mineral fluids, and algae we need will not harm your planet.”

“And as I’ve already told you,” Lee replied firmly, “we need to have unimpeachable data, before I can recommend to congress that we sign the trade agreement."

“You are leader. Just do it!”

“It doesn’t work that way here,” Lee said surprisingly gently. “As the captain is well aware.”

Gotcha!

“As you… wish, Mr. Pres-i-dent,” Numbers said, still irritated, and brushed past us on his way out. It was odd, but had there been a whiff of garlic as he passed? Perhaps it was another Earth food the aliens liked. 

Lee was rubbing his head, his elbow above his head, a sure sign of frustration. Then he looked at us apologetically.

“Sorry. They’re all just anxious…”

My stomach chose that inopportune moment to gurgle.

“I guess I made you miss breakfast,” he said sheepishly, "I think I still have something from McDonald’s around here someplace…”

“You do,” Joe said with a grin, “and I suppose you didn’t even open the bag.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, it’s not here now,” Joe said, after a quick search, "housekeeping must have taken it out or maybe the Secret Service did. Why don’t I call the kitchen to rustle up something. Might sooth the chef’s ruffled feathers to boot.”

“I’d rather you just go get some breakfast sandwiches from McDonald’s again, Joe. Quicker, and I know Harry really like’s the Mc Griddles. Just order an assortment of stuff….”

“Will you promise to eat one of the sandwiches this time, bro?”

“Not much of an appetite, sorry.”

“I’ll report you didn’t eat breakfast to the surgeon general…again, if you don’t at least try to.”

“Okay, okay. One Egg McMuffin for me…where are my manners, sit down, Harry, Admiral,” he added, indicating the sofas, and leaving his chair, he plopped down on the sofa opposite us and stretched his legs out and onto the coffee table.

“Been out running?” I asked, noticing that his socks were the thick puffy kind he preferred when jogging.

“Wanted to. Was ready to, but then Numbers demanded an update when he found out the scale model I’d arranged for was ready. He was still arguing about it when I sent for you and you know the rest of the story.”

“You don’t trust him,” Jiggs said.

“I think he’s an opinionated pain in the ass, but he hasn’t given me any reason not to trust the aliens…Harry, regarding the extraction of some of the ocean salts, I may be making the worst decision in the history of mankind…or the best. That’s where you come in. What I need right now is your hands on scientific study using the scale model harvester and a containment field  for the affected volume of sea water that Seaview’s machine shop's rigging right now.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?” I asked, ignoring the topic.

“Some. By the way, we found out that the aliens also like Cinnamon Oatmeal, raw cranberries, Oreo’s and sweet pickles.  In fact,” he grinned. “We stayed up a little last night making some cookies ourselves, Chocolate Chip. The Chef wasn’t too happy about it when he found out this morning. Thinks the kitchen is his personal territory. Anyway Mel and I are going to try making Shortbread Cookies next. I called Mom for the recipe. Oh, and both Mel and Numbers  like raisins and Garlic Toast.”

We discussed other possible foodstuffs that the aliens might like and noticed that Lee was yawning a lot, so Jiggs and I kept talking among ourselves and let him drift off into  a semi nap.

After a while Joe returned with four bags of food from McDonald’s along with a cardboard  box containing a metal carafe and several paper cups, sugar, and cream packets.

“Breakfast is served,” Joe said, deciding to wake Lee up, and sat the bags and box on the coffee table. “Help yourselves. And,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “this,” he indicated the carafe, “is something McDonald’s doesn’t have.”

Jiggs lifted out the carafe and read the embossing.

“U.S. Navy Observatory.”

“All the time I’ve been here, why didn’t I think of that?” Lee asked himself.

“’Cause you’re too busy with affairs of the world to think about it,” Joe said. “And I should have thought where to find honest to God Navy 'Joe' myself.”

Jiggs poured some of the brew into a cup, but as he was about to bring it to his lips, he thought the better of it and held it toward Lee, who was still busy trying to locate an Egg McMuffin in one of the bags. “Mr. President?” he asked.

Lee looked up, surprised, I supposed because Jiggs had not only offered him a cup, but had used the title with all due decorum and without a trace of sarcasm.

“Thanks,” Lee said, and took a sip. “Ahh. Now that’s what I call coffee. Though, Cookie’s is better.”

“He’ll be glad to hear it,” I said as I dunked my Egg McGriddle into the little cup of Maple Syrup that had come with it. Imitation or genuine I didn’t care.

A knock on the door interrupted our repast.

“In,” Lee called out.

A Secret Service agent entered.

“The Flying Sub has landed safely in the Potomac and its men requested an audience. But we informed them that you were busy. That Admiral Nelson would be brought to them at the dock after retrieving his gear.”

“The men,” Lee corrected, “according to Com…Captain Morton, are Chief Sharkey and Seaman Kowalski. And the Flying Sub is not an ‘it’. ‘She’ is the correct term for all of our vessels, civilian and military. ‘It’s are unknowns or enemies. And bring the men here right away…And use one of the limo’s.”

The agent, flushing at Lee’s reprimand, nodded and departed, closing the door behind him.

“Well,” Joe said, pleased, “you certainly told him!”

“I won’t have my…Seaview’s men, treated as if they’re not important enough to see me. Before things get too hectic around here, Harry I need to talk to you all a little more about Melody.”

“Harry,  I know you wanted me to wait awhile before deciding what I want to do. But it’s become pretty clear to me that I want to marry Melody. I know a lot of people will be against it. Even my own mother told me I was crazy to consider it… but…I can’t help feeling, knowing, that Mel has become my life, and is more rhN my soul mate. Frankly, I don’t think I can live without her. But…I’d like your blessing. If she accepts me, formally, that is.”

“Well,” I said after a moment, “she’d be rather foolish not to. Congratulations, son.”

“But will her father allow it, willingly?"Jiggs said, "he wasn’t very happy about you two dating, and certainly not happy about a possible ‘bonding’.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see," Lee said. "I want to ask her today.”

“Well, at least put your shoes on before you do," Joe said.

“I guess I am looking a little un-presidential,” Lee laughed.

It wasn’t long before there was another knock on the door, by a marine this time.

“Chief Sharkey and Seaman Kowalski, Mr. President.”

Both snapped to attention. In stocking feet or not, Lee was still the president and more important, their former skipper.

“It’s good to see you looking so well,” Lee said as rose and stepped the few paces toward them and grabbed their shoulders, “First things first. How’s Seaview?”

“Just fine, Mr. President,” Sharkey said.

“I have an important mission for Seaview that Admiral Nelson will be in charge of. And you’ll have a visitor aboard.”

“Another one of the admiral’s egghead scientist buddies?” Ski asked, “er, I mean….”

“No,” Lee said, amused. “But you may find this guest a little…unusual. It’s one of the aliens.”

After a moment of stunned silence, Ski asked, hopefully, “the female, sir?”

Sharkey kicked him in the shin. 

“You got dames on the brain!”

“Easy, Chief,” Lee said. “Lt. Numbers will be observing the tests that Seaview will be conducting. Make sure Cookie serves plenty of apple products and chocolate brownies. I'll have a list of appropriate foods faxed over. He also likes booze. Numbers will also bring some of his own aboard along with a few of his own foodstuffs. No need to tell you that  full security restrictions will apply to him.”

“Yes sir,” Sharkey said.

“And,” Lee added, “I feel it only right to tell you both that I plan to marry Melody. There may be some…objection to that by some of the crew.”

“I’ll clobber the first guy who says anything bad about it, her, or you, Skipper,” Sharkey said.

“Same here, ” Ski added. “Um, you going to live here or…”he gulped, “up there?”

“Definitely here, at least for the rest of my term of office. I’m pretty sure Mel would agree to that. After that I imagine  a few trips ‘up’ to visit the in-laws might be in order. And a lot depends on whether I’ll be returning to Seaview. I don’t want to step on Captain Morton’s toes. And he certainly deserves command of the boat.”

“But he wants you back in command more than anyone!” Sharkey said, “we all do.”

“Thanks. I admit that I miss Seaview so much it hurts. I’m no politician. I’m only doing my duty here. Now, we still have some coffee and breakfast sandwiches if you’d like."

A short while later there was a knock on the door.

“In,” Lee called out.

Melody, escorted by a Secret Service agent was about to enter when she stopped herself.

“You are busy,” she said, turning.

“Not at all,” Lee said as the rest of us rose. “Let me introduce you to Chief Sharkey and Seaman Kowalski from the Seaview.”

“Ma’am,” both said.

“I am hon-ored,” she replied with a smile.

“We were just having a bite,” Lee said.  “I can order milk.…”

“No, I don’t wish to in…in-ter-upt…you do not have many friends in this place.”

“Actually,” I said, “Jiggs and I were just leaving. I need to go back to the lodge to pack. Perhaps Sharkey and Ski can give me a hand, Lee?”

“The limo will take you, and then to the dock,” Lee said, giving me  a hug, “have a good flight, keep me posted. And…thanks for understanding, Pop.”

Pop, he called me Pop. A rarity even before he was president. He preferred Harry. I couldn’t help but to kiss him on the cheek, as befitted his relationship to me as my son.

My son, I mused as Jiggs, Sharkey, Ski, and I were driven to the lodge.  My son, the president. My son, the soon to be husband of an alien from outer space. The first in the history of our world.

Yes, Lee was certainly going to be in the history books. For better or worse.