My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

6. Facing the Music

“And that, gentlemen,” I concluded my briefing at NIMR, “will be our next mission. Any questions?”

I waited with some trepidation, though I was sure my upset stomach was due more to Edith’s home cooking than fear of a negative response.

She’d returned to Santa Barbara with me the following day and had quickly established herself in my NIMR bungalow. Hence, she’d insisted I eat something before the meeting I’d called.

While only Seaview’s line officers and NCO’s were required to attend, several staff had decided to see what the fuss was all about. After all, when I’d called NIMR security from Boston to schedule the briefing, I’d added that if the captain asked about it to simply tell him there wasn’t going to be an egghead scientist buddy in sight.

So, for all anyone knew, we might be taking a pleasure cruise.

“Well, to be honest, Admiral,” Ski replied, returning my mind to the matter at hand, “it seems like a lot of work just to find an old shipwreck that hasn’t any treasure.”

“That’s true Kowalski,” I answered amid the laughter, rubbing my forehead (I had a headache that just wasn’t going away). “But, I feel that the recovery of this vessel and any human remains will be of great value and historical importance.”

“And when we bring all those dudes back, what’s left of them,” Riley said, “the guys at the Boston Maritime Museum are actually gonna’ be able to do facial reconstructions so we can see what they all looked like? Like way cool, man.”

“Well, hopefully,” I chuckled, “forensic facial reconstruction is not an exact science though. There’s also the hope that with the growing interest in family trees that with DNA testing, it’s feasible that some of the remains could be reunited with family members, slave and crew alike.”

“What if this shipwreck’s too deep for divers?” Sharkey asked.

“The waters around Bermuda are relatively shallow, so no deep diving gear will be necessary. Recent seismic activity may have covered evidence of the wreck, however, not to mention exposing  any deep fissures. Woods Hole has already sent us their checklist for archeological digs.”

“Then why not just let them do it?” Lee asked. “Admiral, this just doesn’t seem like a job for Seaview. We’re not archeologists.”

“You, of all people, Captain, know that I have a special interest in the Sea Nymph. I’d like Seaview to be the vessel to discover her. And to bring those poor soul’s bones home, or at least to hallowed ground or their own countries. Miss Bates of the Boston Museum is helping by researching surviving documents from the era that may shed light on the Sea Nymph and her loss. Now, are there any more questions? If not, I think we’re finished here.”

My heart was in my gut as I watched Lee. He’d been frowning since the first mention I’d made of the Sea Nymph and now it was a scowl.

After the room had emptied, Lee leaned against the window, his back to me, saying nothing. Now I knew it probably wasn’t Edith’s scrambled eggs that had made me sick. I’d been scared of how Lee was going to react.

“Why are you doing this?” Lee finally asked and turned toward me. “What’s the real reason?”

“I thought I made that clear. We’re hunting for a shipwreck of historical importance and....”

“No, that’s not why. Even I can see that you’re doing this because you have some fantasy that it will salvage your pride. It won’t work, Harry. Oh, people will appreciate the effort to find and return the remains of the slaves, even the crew to their families, but that won't make the sins of Sheamus just go away. And....”he hesitated, “you could have at least discussed your plans with me first.”

“It was a family matter and....” I stopped, realizing I’d put my foot in my mouth.

“A family matter that doesn’t include me? Perhaps I should consider going back to be just plain Lee Crane after all. Just like you want.”

“I don’t want that! I was just trying to spare you some grief! The shame of the Nelson name. Lee, son, I’m sorry. For years it’s only been Edith and I and for a moment I simply forgot…”

“You simply forgot that I’m a Nelson now too? That I’m your legal son now? I’d never forget you,” he added, deeply wounded.

“Yes, damnit, I forgot! But I didn’t forget you on purpose! It just happened! Please…you have to believe me…” I barely managed, my stomach on the verge of exploding.

“What’s wrong?” Lee took my arm. “You’re trembling.”

“Nothing…something I ate ….” I couldn’t finish and grabbed the nearest wastebasket and threw up.

“Why didn’t you say you were ill?” he asked. “Or did you want to keep that from me, too?”

I couldn’t answer of course, busy as I was over the wastebasket, and he moved to the intercom on the wall.

“Have some corpsmen from Med Bay come to the conference room, and call Jamison. He’s at the Country Club golf course. Admiral Nelson’s taken ill. ”

In record time, the corpsmen appeared. After the worst of the vomiting was over, I was given a brief exam, a wheelchair was requested, and I was whisked off to the Med Center for tests. Lee stayed behind. I supposed he was still sulking.

Jamison appeared in record time, though the duty doc had already taken blood and urine samples.

“I told them, Will. It was Edith’s scrambled eggs,” I said sourly as I waited in my paper exam gown on the gurney.

“The blood test will prove or disprove food poisoning. She had the same meal and hasn’t suffered any nausea. I’m inclined to believe the upset is due to stress. Anything special going on that I should know about? Other than all the hoopla about Sheamus  Nelson? Ski said the captain didn’t seem all that happy about the upcoming mission to find him.”

“We’re going to search for the slaves, not Sheamus. Lee and I…we had words, okay?”

“Words?” Will asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly interested. But before I could tell him that it was none of his business, I was sick again.

A timer dinged and Will left to retrieve the results of the tests, leaving me to throw up into the wastebasket in my hands. While Will was gone Lee entered, the nurses trying to stop him.

“It’s all right,” I said, effectively dismissing them.

I could tell Lee was worried but there was still an uncomfortable silence between us.

Doc entered a mere minute later, clipboard in hand, “Skipper, you do realize that there is such a thing as Dr./ Patient privilege. ”

“As captain of the Seaview and co-owner of NIMR, I think I can demand to know what the problem is. In addition, I still have Harry’s Power of Attorney, even if he wants to renege on the adoption.”

“I never said that!” I shouted.

“You sure as hell suggested it, didn’t you?”

“Enough! The both of you!” Will demanded. “Do you want the diagnosis or not?”

“Sorry,” Lee said, still breathing hard. “Go ahead.”

“Very well,” Doc said. “It’s not food poisoning. So Edith’s off the hook. So is the airline. Extreme nausea is just one of a plethora of symptoms he can expect from nicotine withdrawal. We can adjust the patch dosage but only to a point. The entire point of the patch is help reduce the consumption, not replace it. That and the recent stress he’s been under lately combined to make things worse. I’ll reassess the dosage schedule and he should feel better soon. However, I also recommend that whatever is going on between yourselves be resolved as soon as possible.”

“We’ve argued before without anything like this happening,” Lee said, then furrowed his brows, “there's more, isn't there?”

I saved Will the trouble.

"My lungs are badly damaged Lee. In fact, I nearly had a heart attack awhile back…”

“A heart attack?”

“That’s the real reason I quit smoking. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Nearly had a heart attack,” Will said, “’nearly’ being the operative word.”

“He’s okay though?"

"He will be, if he follows his doctor's orders. Now, while he changes, come along with me, Skipper. I’d like to show you what all that coffee you continually guzzle down is doing to you…”

“You could have told me, Harry,” Lee said, ignoring Doc.

“I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“I wouldn’t keep secrets from you.”

“You should talk! You’ve kept plenty of secrets from me. Gallivanting off on your blasted ONI assignments without a word and…”

“That’s not the same and you know it!”

“Gentlemen,” Will said, “the sooner you take your differences out of here,  the sooner I can get back to the golf course.”

“Oh,” we both said apologetically.

“Thank you. I’ll have your new patch and further instructions waiting for you at the nurse’s station, Admiral. We’ll talk about your caffeine addition later, Captain.”

Lee’s still sore at me. My stomach and throat are sore from all the upchucking. Edith’s been fussing over me, and trying to decide what to fix me for supper.

At least she agreed that some canned soup might be a better idea.

I’m still on tenterhooks  as I have a very real fear that Lee will give up on me, perhaps not as his adopted father, but as his friend.

Oh gawd, what a mess.