TRWD40D

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
40D

It was after midnight and neither Emmie or I had been able to sleep.
“I’m sorry I’ve been tossing and turning so much, dear,” she told me, sitting up on our bunk, “I’m just so scared. What if what if war does come? What if everything gets blown up and there’s nothing left on earth but fire and brimstone and I go into labor all alone and….”
“Sweetheart,” I said embracing her, her nightie’s lace scratching my face, “let’s not borrow trouble. War night not even happen. And you know Lee will do everything in his power to prevent it.”
“I know. Doesn’t stop me from worrying though.”
“I’m scared too. I’d be more concerned about anyone who isn’t. How about a nightcap? Might help relax us a bit.”
“Hot chocolate would be better.”
“Good idea. I’ll head down to the Wardroom. Cookie always keeps those instant packets out. Back in a minute.”

I quickly donned my robe and slippers and headed out. I wondered if Lee was having the same problem, and took a short detour. His door was open, his bunk rumpled, but there was no sign of him. Perhaps he was touring the boat or perhaps he’d had the same idea as Emmie and had gone to the Wardroom for some hot chocolate even against medical orders though I couldn’t think of it being acidic.
I resumed my trek but found the Wardroom deserted. Attending to the task at hand, my mind was in such a whirl of concerns, I wasn’t paying attention and spilled some of the packet contents onto the countertop.
“I’ll take care of it, sir,” one of the mess specialists said, having seen my accident through the ‘tween through’. For you and the Mrs.? Good night for it, The Skip was here earlier for some too. I mean the president elect. Damn it’s hard calling him that. He’ll always be the skipper to me, even if he isn’t, technically anyway, anymore. He couldn’t sleep. Took his hot chocolate to the Observation Nose. You, um, not going to tell on him? He was a little concerned about Doc finding out. I kind of promised him I wouldn’t spill the beans, but I guess I have in telling you. Would you like me to take your hot chocolate to your cabin, sir?”
“Yes, but only one, for Mrs. Nelson. I’ll take mine to the nose. And don’t worry, I’m not going to scold the skipper…you see, even I still call him that.”
I picked up my mug and headed out, and trod forward to the nose, glad I’d only spilled a little on my way. No doubt the morning’s mop and bucket duty would tend to it.

O’Brien had the conn, and grinned when I came through the aft hatch.
“You too, sir?” O’Brien asked, nodding toward the Observation Nose, “he’s still awake. You won’t be disturbing him.”
There was no need to ask who ‘he’ was.

I could see Lee’s reflection in the view ports as I approached. He was in PJ’s and robe as I’d suspected he would be, and was sitting in one of the loungers, facing the iridescent glow of bubbles from Seaview’s ‘headlight’.
“Hi,” he said, without turning, having seen my reflection. “Have you read the memo from the Inaugural Committee?”
“I haven’t seen any of them.”
“Sorry, Joe’s the inaugural go between. I’ll tell him to make sure you’re aware of everything.”
Lee’s drink had whipped cream and melted marshmallows on it, which had given him a foamy mustache.
“They and the secret service,” he continued, “wants me to stand in a bullet proof Plexiglas cage. I won’t, of course.”
“More threats?”
“No, actually. But they’re still worried about me,” he said then took another sip of his hot chocolate.
“You’ve added to your marshmallow mustache.”
“Oh,” he grinned sheepishly, and wiped if off with his pajama sleeve.
“You now, I’m already homesick for Seaview. I just want to soak her in, and all of her little noises.”
“You know, son, I just thought of something. Why not have our cams available for view in the White House? Exterior cams, internal security cams. Whenever you feel really homesick, you can turn them on in the Oval Office. It would almost be like being here with us.”
“That’s a good idea, but wouldn’t that be an invasion of privacy? I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was spying on them.”
“No, no, no. Only public areas would be tied in. Nothing personal.”
“I still don’t know,” Lee pondered and drank more of his hot chocolate. Again having to wipe off another mustache.
“You know, you’d look good with a mustache, a real one that is. And don’t worry about any invasion of privacy. I can have the crew fill out questionnaires they can turn in anonymously before we decide on anything. What do you think?”
“Well, I guess it would be okay if they don’t mind,” he yawned.
“Want me to help you back to bed?”
“No, I’d like to stay here awhile longer.”
“So, what’s gotten you into this state of sleeplessness?”
“Superman. Yeah, Superman. So many people are calling me that. Been some cartoons of him with my face too. So I do stand for ‘truth, justice, and the American Way’. But Nelson-Crane, this, Nelson-Crane that. It’s sickening. I’m just a sub driver, not one of the founding fathers,” he yawned again. “No living human being should be equated with them. No one, Harry, I really am tired, but I doubt if I could sleep if I tried.”
Another sip of hot chocolate.
“Unless,” he pondered, “unless maybe you can read out loud for a while?”
“I don’t know whether to be honored or insulted,” I laughed, “I do know how some of my briefings aboard the Nautilus put you to sleep. And my memoirs I wanted your opinion of lately.”
“Either way, it might relax me enough to try going back to bed.”
“Fine by me. Anything you’re in the mood for?”
“Not really. Don’t bother to go back to your cabin to pick out one of your first editions. How about Jane’s Fighting Ships or one of the new adult comic books O’Brien keeps under the plot table?”
“You know about those?”
“Of course I know,” Lee smirked. “On this boat I’m God. Sorry,” he said, looking heavenward, “bad joke, and in very bad taste. Hope I’m not struck down by lightning when we surface again. Oh, just pick anything to read.”

In the end I selected Jane’s Fighting Ships. Mostly pictures and illustrations and I began to read the stats. Rather boring stuff, even for me. On and on I read, as Lee’s eye grew heavier.

The next thing I knew my nostrils were being assaulted by the scent of coffee, and my ears by soft voices. I was surprised to find myself semi horizontal in the lounger, a pillow under my head. Daylight streamed through the viewports, as Seaview sailed on the surface a U.S. warship ahead of us.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Emmie said, suddenly looming above me, kissing me and bringing the lounger upright.
It was a wonderful way to wake up, except she was fully clothed now.
Lee’s lounger was empty.
“Lee’s fine,” Emmie said, “He was sound asleep in his chair like you, but woke up when Cookie brought in a carafe of coffee this morning. He went to Sick Bay for Doc’s morning inspection, though he needs them less and less now.”
“But he’s having a bad morning,” Will said as stepped down the spiral ladder. “He will for a while until the Tylenol kicks in. “Bad crick in his neck, which he wouldn’t have had if you’d sent him to bed instead of letting him sleep in here.”
“I’m sorry. We only wanted to help him get tired enough to go to bed. I’m afraid I fell asleep reading to him….”
“Giving Harry a bad time, Will?” Lee, in uniform asked, strolling down the Control Room’s port side aisle, Winston at his heels. “Neck still hurts, but I never slept better.”
“He’s lying and don’t let him tell you he’s not,” Will said. “Now, remember, one cup of coffee only, oatmeal for breakfast.”
“How much longer am I going to have to stay on baby food?”
“Until I say otherwise. And oatmeal is hardly baby food. Why, the Scots live on the stuff, as well you know.”
“I’d rather have waffles with strawberries or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, heavy on the jelly. Even with bananas and maple syrup yesterday, it just didn’t do it.”
“All clear in here now to have breakfast?” Jiggs asked, approaching from the Control Room. “Everyone’s been on tip toes around here to keep from waking you, Harriman. Captain’s orders. Er, I mean Lee’s, not Morton’s. Mind if I turn on the news?”
“Suit yourself,” Lee said. “But frankly, I’m sick of it all. Harry, while you’re on your way to your cabin to get dressed, I need to discuss something with you. Go ahead and order breakfast for everyone in here, Jiggs. C’mon, Harry, Winston….”

After we’d cleared the Control Room I raised my eyebrow.
“The inaugural committee?”
“No. It’s something I want. Harry, right after the oath, I want you to come and stand by my side for the rest of the festivities, the parade, fly by, etc. But it will have to be on my left. I know the right is the primary place of honor, but without a right eye, I’d rather see you than just know you’re there with me.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to. All those people, cameras and there’s something else. The thing is, Harry, I may still be a target. You could end up taking a bullet. You have a wife, babies on the way and well…”
He had a point. He might be the most beloved American in our history, but he also had dangerous enemies. Very powerful enemies that even the Secret Service and increased security in Washington might not be able to thwart.
My new life with Emmie was still just beginning. It would be far safer not to stand with him so vulnerable. But Lee and I had often risked our lives for the better good. The nation was just as valuable to me as my wife and soon to be children. To stand with him in a show of solidarity against fear and our enemies, well, I’d be a coward not to.
“I’ll wear a bullet proof vest if it would make you feel better. But I’ll stand with you. Proudly.”
“Thanks, Harry. By the way, I’ll be in uniform, not civvies. Dress blues. I want the People’s Republic’ coalition to see our country is at the ready for come what may.”
“I’ll wear my dress blues as well. And Lee? Wear all your decorations, all of them. No exceptions. Give them something to blind them.”
Lee gave me his sunshine smile as we reached my cabin, and left me to my ablutions. Before I did, however, I went online and checked my purchase stats for Lee’s other inaugural present, glad that it had been safely delivered to Washington to await our arrival and the actual day of the inauguration.
Pride and dread filled my heart, as the clock ticked down.