My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

10.3

The buzzer on my apartment door startled me. I’d dozed off watching TV, and noticed it was almost 2300, and hail was rattling my windows. The buzzer was getting impatient. It couldn’t be Lee, could it? After all, he had his own key and there’d been no call from security to announce Seaview’s arrival. But then, I hadn’t requested one. And unless there was a problem, there was no standing order to do so.

“Riley?” I asked, surprised as I opened the door. “About time Seaview got in. Is the captain on his way up?”

“I wouldn’t know, sir,” the crewman answered, hesitant. “He said to give this report to you. We, um, well, sir, Seaview got in around 1930.”

“Ah, I suppose he’s still writing up the log and tying up loose ends.”

“I see,” I said, and accepted the report. “Well, thank you, Riley.”

I noticed Riley hadn’t been able to keep himself from sniffing the scent of pizza, (half uneaten, in its open box on the coffee table).

“Go on, take it,” I told the crewman, nodding toward it.

 “Gee, thanks, sir! Me and a couple of the guys, like, decided to hang around till the weather clears. Nobody wants to drive home in this mess.  Well, goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Riley.”

Some more thunder and lightening. It wasn't long before the lights flickered and went out except for the battery operated night light in the kitchenette and probably the emergency lights in the building's hallways and elevators. At least Riley had had enough time to escape being trapped in the elevator.

And so I waited for the generator to kick on.

And waited.

“Damn,” I said and called security.

“Yes, Admiral,” the man said anticipating my question. “We’re working on it.”

“Well, hurry it up!”

As if in answer, the generator clicked on and after a few flickers, the lights came back on.

“Must have heard you, sir. We got reports that most  of the power’s out in town. Do you need anything else, sir?”

 "No, thank you. Good night."

I called the gate and found that both Lee and Chip had already left.

I hoped they were already at Murphy’s and weren’t  trying to drive in this torrential rain during a blackout.

I couldn’t risk calling Lee yet, answering his cell while driving wasn’t a good idea. So I waited. Murphy’s was  usually only a twenty minute drive, so I allowed that plus a little more time before calling.

Busy signal.

Again I tried a few minutes later. And again a busy signal.

So I called Chip.

 “Admiral? Anything wrong, sir?”

“Let me speak with Lee.”

“Lee?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, Lee, you know, your booze buddy, your captain, my son. He did join you for drinks at Murphy’s, didn’t he?”

“Actually, no. I asked him, but…” he suddenly hesitated, as if he’d put his foot in his mouth.

“Well?”

“He said he wanted to be alone, especially after, er….”

“After what?”

“He said he needed to get away by himself, that he wasn’t good company.”

“Anything else?”

Chip’s silence was deafening.

“Spit it out, man!”

“Well, sir, he didn’t say anything else, but…I could tell he was upset."

I could hear some feline yeowls in the background.

"Not now, sweetie," Chip responded to her, then resumed, "sorry, sir. Mallie just wanted to get her two meows in..."

I couldn't help laughing. The ship's cat certainly had him under her paw.

"Go ahead, son."

“Lee saw the newscasts, sir. Why did you let the Hawthorne’s into his place? It also looked like you had a great old time with them at Sharkey’s. And then making Ronald your representative for the gala?”

“Lee wasn’t here.”

“It’s the principle of the thing. He hasn't said, but I get the feeling Lee thinks you’ve been letting Ronald usurp Lee’s place in your life.”

“Damn.”

“And the reporters made a pretty good case, didn’t they?”

“The reporters made assumptions, that’s all. Now, did Lee say where he was going? I’m only getting a busy signal from his cell.”

“Maybe he’s talking to someone or turned the phone’s voice mail off.”

“Damn it, Chip, did he tell you where he was going?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to call him? I’m sure he’d pick up for me even if he has it set on ‘busy’ with the voice mail switched off. He does have ‘caller ID’.”

“Go ahead, Chip. I need to know where he is, if he's okay, especially during this storm.”

“Right away sir. I’ll put you on hold. Hope you don’t mind Pat Boone.”

I waited, and was just about to grab a cigarette when Chip’s voice came back.

“Lee didn’t pick up for me, either. I checked the phone company he uses to see if there’s a problem with ‘caller Id’. They said they’ve been having intermittent problems with all their services or that he has it set on busy for all callers. But he wouldn’t do that, sir. He has to be available for security. I had them try to call him too. Same busy signal, so my guess is either the service is on the fritz or he’s gone to ground to avoid any of us. Look, sir, let me come back, pick you up and we’ll drive to the apartment. I tried calling the manager but that line was out of service. At least then we can go and see if Lee’s snug as a bug in a rug or if he’s someplace else.”

“Do you have his security code? The manager won’t be too happy if we have to wake him to put it in for us.”

“Security code for the apartment? That’s news to me. Don’t worry about the manager. I can be very official when I need to be.”

“Very well, lad. I’ll be waiting at the admin entrance.”

I made myself a cup of instant coffee, and had a smoke. That was odd. I guessed the last session with the hypnotist hadn’t taken. I decided to ask Ron tomorrow to make another appointment for me.

It was not an easy drive. Fortunately, there weren’t too many vehicles on the roads, though we did have to weave through downed branches, and around accidents. We did slow and stop a few times to see if we could render assistance before the cops arrived, but none thought it necessary so we continued on our way. I was simply relieved that none of the accident's we passed involved Lee’s Lamborghini.

We finally arrived at the apartment. The complex lights were out but our headlights didn’t find the car.We decided to check the apartment anyway. Lee could always have left his car on the side of a road we hadn’t taken, if it was damaged, that is.

While Chip had prepared himself with Seaview’s foul weather gear, complete with protective boots, all I’d armed myself with was a raincoat, hat, and umbrella, neither of which offered much protection.

Trying to shelter under the building’s awning was a losing battle as Chip rang the manager’s office doorbell repeatedly against the noise of the thunder and even banged on the door with his fist.

 “Not you again!” the manager groaned from the crack in the doorway, aiming his flashlight against us.

“Is Lee here?” I shouted against the wind.

“How the hell should I know?”

“Well, can you check and see?”

“It’s a matter of national security,” Chip lied.

“C’mon, man. Washington’s waiting!” I added.

“Oh, have a heart! That poor boy’s been through enough!”

“Just open the door, will you?” Chip roared.

Pulling on a raincoat over his pajamas, and slipping on some sneakers, the manager led us to the apartment, entered the code then used his master key instead of bothering me to pull mine out.

“Captain?” he called as he opened the door.

“Lee?” I yelled, “Lee, are you here?”

We made a point of checking the whole place  with the manager’s flashlight just in case Lee was asleep or simply ignoring us.

“Damn,” Chip said. “What are we going to tell the president?” he added in a ‘stage whisper’ as we headed out, leaving a flabbergasted manager behind to lock up.

“Damn, where the hell is he?” I said, as I strapped into the car.

“It would take a secret agent to find him….secret agent…damn! We need to call Drew!”

It was a bad connection, but at least he had a few ideas. Lee’s sailboat, of course, was probably bouncing far too much in her slip for Lee to be comfortable aboard, probably being the operative word.

“Wait a min,” he mused. “Remember that hotel reservation he made for his mother last year? I think I remember him saying she couldn’t come out. But the hotel gave him a rain check. No pun intended. The Sea View Sunset Resort and Spa, if I remember correctly.”

“Why not just have ONI check on his location with one of those implants you spooks have,” Chip asked.

“I checked on those first. I’m not getting any signals. Neither is ONI or they’re not telling.”

“Well, we have no choice but the check the hotel,” I said and Chip ended the call.

The highway patrol had set up some detours due to flooded roads, so it took awhile before we reached the hotel. Its sign and exterior lights were dim, flickering, and  probably on generator.  

Chip drove around the parking lot.

“Bingo!” he yelled as we spotted a red Lamborghini.

“Is it his?”

“Sure is. I know his license number like the back of my hand.”

“Thank God.”

“I’ll drop you off in the front so you won’t get soaked.”

“I doubt it would make much difference. My shoes and pants already are.”

I gathered my wits about me, as I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him, vacated the car and entered the lobby.

“The computers are down,” the desk clerk said before I could open my mouth, “but don’t worry, sir. We can check you in manually against the last hard copy of registered guests. We have limited power from the generator. Drinks are on the house,” he added, nodding to the crowded bar.

Several of the guests were watching the storm from behind  the safety(?) of the rattling glass doors  and windows to the pool deck. I had to admit the lightening show flashing its tendrils above the surf was pretty spectacular.

“I’m not checking in,” I told the clerk, returning to the matter at hand, “I’m Admiral Nelson and all I want  to know is Captain Nelson-Crane’s room number.”

“Sorry, sir. I’m not allowed to give out that information.”

 “Now look here, young man….”

“My God!” a matronly lady exclaimed, Martini in her hand, “it’s Admiral Nelson!”

“Er, yes…”

“Marty, Marty, come here!” she yelled toward a balding man nursing a scotch, “it’s THE Admiral Nelson!”

A  crowd began to gather as her husband,( at least I assumed it was her husband), snapped some pictures of us. Soon he was talked into snapping more of  the other guests standing next to me.

“Admiral?” Chip asked, braving the crowd.

“Oh, are you Chipee?” she squealed, "you look just like him!"she added, delighted, clapping her hands.

“Er, yes…Mrs…er…”

“Hendrix. Grace Hendrix and this is my husband Marty. Oh, we’re so pleased to meet you both….er…but why are you visiting a resort? I mean, you have all that private beach….”

“We’re trying to reach Captain Nelson-Crane. Official business.”

“He’s here? Oh God!”

Excited ‘Oohhs’, ‘Ahhs’  followed from the crowd.

“Yes,” I said, “but I can’t seem to remember his room number.” It was getting easier to lie. “And they won’t give it to me.”

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice interrupted as she approached. “I’m the manager. Is there a problem here?”

The only problem was my beating heart. She was a mature woman, probably between fifty and sixty, and despite a plain pant suit, she was stunning.

“He’s Admiral Nelson,” Mrs. Hendrix said, “and he forgot Captain Nelson- Crane’s room number. Official business,” she added with awe.

“I realize that your clerk is following procedures, “I said, “ but it ‘is’ urgent we speak with him. His cell’s down and….”

“Follow me, please.”

The lights flickered.

“Will the generator hold, Ms. Black?” Marty asked.

“It’s doing its best, but I’d advise the stairs from now on instead of the elevator, just in case. But there won’t be any problems with our battery operated lighting in all stairwells, hallways or with the night lights in the rooms. Oh, and free drinks and ice cream all night as long as it doesn't melt beyond recognition.”

Then she returned her attention to me.

“Er, you can handle stairs, Admiral, can’t you? No offense. But the captain’s on the third floor. I’m sure he wouldn’t like it if you have a problem with them. I can send someone up to get him if you prefer.”

“Er, that won’t be necessary. I can use the exercise.”

And so she led us up the stairway. I must say I certainly appreciated the view. Curves in all the right places.

Chip managed the stairs easily. Me, well, I’d begun to pant no sooner than we’d gotten to the second floor.

Chip slowed down to match my pace, and gave me a steadying arm for the last half flight.

Finally, we reached  the third floor and entered the hallway. Ms. Black  led us to Lee’s room and stopped in her tracks.

“Oh dear,” she said.

“Doesn’t necessarily mean he has anyone with him,” I said regarding the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging from the doorknob.

“But what if he does?” Chip asked. “He’ll kill us!”

“It's a matter of national security, isn't it?” Ms. Black said and knocked heavily on the door, but instead of announcing us or herself, mindful of the sign, she shouted!”

“In,” Lee’s voice barely permeated through the wall. He sounded tired or maybe he was in the bathroom.

Ms. Black inserted the master key card and the door unlocked.

“Thank you,” I said and opened the door as she departed.

The room was illuminated only by the hallway’s light and one of the open bathroom's lights. Despite being granted entrance, Chip kept his eyes half closed just in case there was a naked girl hiding under the sheets, just in case.

There wasn’t.

Lee was just visible, his back still to us, sitting on the covered balcony, his legs outstretched, the sliding glass doors were open to the wind, and he appeared to be watching the storm. He was in sweats, and his uniform lay in a wet crumpled heap on the bathroom floor near our door.

Suddenly there was a crack of lightening,  far too close for comfort. I ran toward Lee, Chip behind me, and grabbed Lee’s shoulders to pull him out of the chair and into the room.

Bad move.

Startled, he reacted with a punch to my jaw, sending me backwards on to my butt.

“Harry?” he said as he finally recognized me. “What the hell?” he began, then noticed Chip. “Get some ice! Down the hall.”

I could hear Chip turn the deadbolt on the open door to prevent it from locking behind him.

“Over here,” Lee ordered me, as he turned on the flickering light, exasperated, helping me to get up in order to sit down on the bed nearest the balcony. He closed the sliding doors.
“What the blazes were you doing out there?” I shouted, ignoring for a moment his stitches and bruised cheek. “Do you want to get yourself electrocuted?”

At least that was what I was trying to say. It wasn’t all that easy as blood was trickling down the inside of the jaw, and I spat out half of a tooth into my hand. On closer inspection it was a broken filling. It must have scraped the inside of my cheek.

Lee hurried to the bathroom, returning with two paper cups. One empty for me to put the broken filling into, the other filled with mouthwash for me to swirl around in my mouth and spit.

 “Owww.” Damn, that mouthwash stung.

“Serves you right. What’s the big idea, sneaking up on me like that? I thought you were an intruder or a terrorist or something, and where's the maintenance girl?” he demanded, and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed.

“I was trying to save your life! And there was no maintenance girl. It was the manager. I had to see you, Lee. Good thing to, so I could save your life.”

“Save my life?”

“From the lightening!”

“All hotels have lightening rods. They protect outward in a pyramid shape all the way down to the ground. There was no danger.”

“That’s not 100 % factual and with a degree in electrical engineering you know it. Now, just exactly what are you doing here?”

“I wasn’t aware my private life was any of your concern.”

“You know damn well it is!”

 Lightening flashed and the thunder shook the glass doors, some rain managing to moisten the edge of balcony deck and Lee’s chair.

The lights went out leaving only the night light above the temperature control box on.

“Stay put,” he ordered.

In seconds, aided by the intermittent flashes of lightening, he’d retrieved something from his moist duffle bag and cracked a neon flash stick. It gave the room an eerie greenish hue but it was better illumination that the night light, even though my hair looked orange and his eyes glowed red in the wall mirror.

I heard Chip gasp as he returned from the corridor, lit with dim emergency lights. “For a minute I thought you two were zombies. The ice is all melted. Eeeyooh,” he added as he saw the bloodied cup holding my filling.

“Never mind,” Lee said, “just get a wet washcloth from the bathroom. At least the place has cool water. No heat anymore though. The cool can help cut down any swelling. Now, Harry, answer me. Why’re you here?”

This was it, the moment of truth. I knew he wouldn’t appreciate being treated like an errant child.

“I, er, think I’ll go downstairs and get a drink,” Chip said. “Or some ice cream if they still have any. Can I have your key card, Lee? So I can get back in here without having to report a murder or something to the manager?”

“In the top dresser drawer. And don’t worry. I’m not going to kill him. Maim him, perhaps, but not kill him.”

I knew he was joking but he wasn’t laughing. I wished I’d have been able to escape with Chip.

“Well?” Lee asked after Chip had vanished.

“I had to know if you were hiding from the press or…from me.”

He turned and stared out at the storm, silent, then,“A little of both, I guess,” he said coolly.

“You guess? You didn’t even call from the sub pen, leave me a message, or anything!”

“Since when do you own me?” Lee said defiantly, turning to face me. “I put Seaview to bed, thus ending my official obligations until tomorrow morning in my office. If it’s still mine, that is, and not Ronald's."

“What? Oh good grief. Look, Lee, Jessica spoke out of turn. At no time did I or anyone else at the institute give Ron the idea that he was going  to be considered for any kind of executive position, especially not yours.”

“Could have fooled me. You certainly had a slap happy time together at Sharkey’s.”

“And why the hell shouldn’t I?” I snapped. “I admit it. I enjoyed myself, okay? Jessica was a treat to look at, Ron was as excited as a kid with a new toy about his job, and is hoping to become a valuable employee. He wants to do what he can for the institute. This isn’t like you, Lee. You always used to give a man a fair chance. In fact, it was you, wasn’t it, who practically forced me to ‘bond’ with him in the first place? Well I have! Be suspicious all you like, but remember, Lee, he’s also my son, just like you are.”

“No, Harry. Not just like me. I guess they’re right about blood being thicker than water, or a piece of paper.”

“Oh, now you’re just being childish! Jealousy doesn’t become you.  Do you really think I’d have braved this damn storm just in order to find you? Make sure you weren’t lying dead or dying someplace on the road?”

“Just making sure you don’t have to break in a new captain for Seaview, more like.”

The flash of lightening and crack of thunder couldn’t match the pain his barbed words  and haunted eyes made on my heart.

“How can you think such a thing?” I croaked, hurt, angry. “All right. Have it your own way. I’m out of here.”

“Wait,” he said grabbing my arm as I rose, then letting go as I glared at him, my eyes moist. “Damn,” he added, running a hand through his hair, “I…I didn’t mean…oh hell. I didn’t mean it, Harry.  I didn’t mean any of it…I’m sorry…I guess I’ve just been stressed out lately….”

I wavered in relief, feeling dizzy.

 “Easy,” he said, and forced me to sit back down on the bed.

“Okay to come in now?” Chip’s voice said through the closed door.

“Come on in, Chip. I’m done biting him.”

“And I’m done chewing him out,” I said, standing up again turning toward the door.

 “Belay that,” Lee said, grabbing my arm firmly, “nobody’s going anywhere tonight. Not even you, Chip. Not in this weather. Help Harry get into some dry clothes. There should be a few in my duffle. You too, if you’re not quite dry under that gear. I’m heading downstairs to let the manager know you’re both staying.”

Chip found an extra pair of sweats that were soft, warm, and dry  I didn’t bother to ask myself if they were clean or in need of a wash. The socks were clean, though, as they were rolled up into a little balls, the way the laundry aboard Seaview always ‘folded’ them. Chip didn’t need dry clothes as he was warm and dry underneath his foul weather gear.

It wasn’t long before Lee returned, bearing a stack of Styrofoam cups, and an unopened bottle of Scotch. I didn’t ask if it was ‘on the house’ or if he’d had it charged to his account as it was the ‘good stuff’. 21 year old Johnny Walker. Might not be my favorite Glen Livet, but it would do in a pinch.

And so we spent the next hour watching the storm from the safety of the room, though Lee and Chip did venture out onto the balcony at times. I simply reclined on the bed, the pillows propped up against the headboard for comfort.

As I studied Lee, I could see that the  view of lightening illuminating the sea and sky, was a kind of tonic, like he was on a spiritual retreat.

Perhaps that had been part of the idea, his coming here, to get away from his feelings of, well, I guess you’d call it the betrayal he’d felt.  Not that I had anything to apologize for. He’d just have to get used to the idea that Ron is, after all, entitled to ‘some’ of my attention and affection though I doubt if I’d have braved the storm, unlike how I had for Lee,  to go find him.

It wasn’t too long before I drifted off. I think I heard Lee say goodnight, but I couldn’t be bothered to respond as I felt the warmth of the sheets, bedspread and blanket cover me.

 I awoke to the bright sunshine dancing around my eyelids and the sound of laughter. I opened my eyes to see the door to the balcony was open, the storm having abated, and I took a look out onto the pool deck and beach.  Staff were turning the scattered and fallen tables and beach umbrellas aright.

Lee and Chip were helping staff boil water on a makeshift oven grill set over the fire pit that  I guessed the hotel usually used for evening ‘s’more’s, parties, and the like, so I guessed the power was still out. I tried turning on the bedside lamp. Yes, the power was out indeed.

Some tables were set with all sorts of instant ‘add hot water’ packages of food and drink. Instant Oatmeal, Ramen Noodles, Mac & Cheese, etc. And, of most interest to me, Instant Coffee.

The crowd was happily chatting away with the boys, Lee barefoot in jeans and turtleneck, Chip, also barefoot, deciding, probably that his boots were not exactly pool deck attire.

Lee hadn’t bothered to shave, as his face stubble was pretty apparent. Chip was too fair for me to see from my vantage point if he had some peach fuzz as well. I ran a hand over my own face and decided that when in Rome, well, you get the idea.

I didn’t bother to change out of the sweats. After all, the crowd wouldn’t know that I’d slept in them.

My shoes, of course, were totally ruined. Lee had set out his pair of blue slippers. But I decided if my boys could go barefoot, so could I.

I saw Ms. Black mingle with the guests. She hadn’t changed, so I guessed she’d stayed the entire night. On duty, or in an available room, I couldn’t know. She smiled and laughed at something one of the guests said, then patted Lee’s arm. But not in a predatory girly way. It was more like a mother’s touch. Instantly I knew I really had to get to know her better.

And so I joined the ‘breakfast party’, and learned that it was actually Chip’s idea to use the fire pit to boil water so they could have some hot coffee and something to eat, instant or not.

Yes, necessity is the mother of invention.

We spent a couple of hours helping the guests with the impromptu breakfast, and watched the shore line, the promise of a pleasant day in the offing.

Suddenly there was a cheer from the open doors of the lobby. The power was back on. Generator or main Santa Barbara grid, nobody cared.

Later, as Chip drove home to begin his shore leave, and left  Lee in my care, I had one last thing to do before we, too,  checked out.

I got Ms. Black, aka Emily’s, phone number.