My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

 25.  Awakenings

I handed my duffle to Kowalski who had just finished loading Mrs. Crane’s luggage in the Flying Sub. She was waiting with me in the Observation Nose in idle conversation with Edith and Miss Bates while the preparations for our fight to Bermuda were being made.

“They’ve got an  ambulance waiting,” Chip told me as he approached.

“Admiral? This is Sick Bay,” Frank’s urgent voice interrupted over the PA. “Can you come down here?”

There was no need for him to go on. I could hear Lee’s whines of “No, no, noooo,” in the background.

Chip and I sprinted to Sick Bay faster than any Olympians, well, perhaps not. In fact, Chip had to help me. Finally there, I had to lean against the bulkhead, coughing and gasping for breath. Damn those cigarettes!  The ladies weren’t too far behind, but at least Mrs. Crane and Miss Bates’ huffing and puffing was due to their age and gender, at least I supposed so. Edith was only mildly out of breath and took my arm as we entered.

“Nightmare or vision, I don’t know,” Doc told us. He and Frank had unbundled Lee from the sleeping bag like travel cocoon, presumably to give their patient’s limbs more room flail about. “All I know is that he’s in REM.”

“REM?” Mrs. Crane asked.

“Rapid Eye Movement,” Frank said.

 “Then he’s asleep, Doc?” Chip asked, “not unconscious?”

“Asleep,” Will said, “and we need to wake him. I was hoping you might be able to, Admiral, I sure as hell haven’t been able to…but I have to warn you, we still don’t know what his cognitive abilities will be….”

In seconds I was at Lee’s side. I placed one hand on his forehead, the other squeezed his left hand. “Lee? It’s Nelson…wake up. Wake up for me son and calm down. Wake up. C’mon, Lad. If you’re lost in there someplace, just follow my voice…follow my voice  and follow me home...follow me home, son….”

Could it be that his moaning, twisting, and turning had lessened?

“Lee?” Mrs. Crane attempted, and stood on the other side of the gurney and took his other hand, “it’s Mom, sweetie…”

Lee turned his head away violently.

“Oh gawd,” she removed her hand as if singed, her eyes watering “he hates me…he hates me.”

“We don’t know what’s going on in there,” Doc said.

“He responded to Nelson.”

“It’s a…it’s a boss thing,” Chip said. “All those years of naval discipline.”

“Bullshit,” she said as the tears rolled down her face, “it’s because Lee loves him, and he hates me.”

 “Lee?” Chip said as he squeezed the hand she’d removed herself from, “we really need you to wake up, bro. It doesn’t matter if you can’t reply, just wake up…please, Skipper. We need you. Seaview needs you.”

“That’s right, son,” I stroked Lee’s forehead, noticing the slight response, “Seaview needs you…I need you. Please, Lee…”

“That’s it,” Doc said as the flailing lessened some more. “Come on, Skipper…snap out of it.”

Finally, Lee’s eyes fluttered open.“Wha…”Lee gulped. “Wha…where am I?” he tried again and sniffed, “Sick Bay? Har…Harry?” he asked desperate, “wha…what happened… I…ohhh. Whopper of a headache.  Harry? That you?” he asked, looking at me blindly.

“It’s me. Can’t you see me?”

“Sorry.”

“A moment, sir,” Doc moved me aside and checked his eyes. “Might be residual pressure on the optic nerve…”

“Harry?”

“Right here son,” I squeezed his hand as Doc moved aside to confer with Frank.

“Harry,” he sighed in relief at my touch, “Harry, Sheamus…he went below decks….”

“Yes Captain,” Doc said, returning his attention to his patient, “ you already told him about Captain Nelson trying to save his slaves.”

“No…no…no… Harry? He went below to unlock the vault…to get his strongbox, not to free his slaves,” Lee whined. “That’s all he cared about…not those poor souls in chains he left to drown…or to be ravished by sharks or the kraken when the boat broke up more. We have…have  to take them home…”

“We’re not sure the wreck we found is the Sea Nymph,” Chip said.

“It is…God help us, it’s her. I…know it is.”

“We’ve mapped the wreck  and will let the Cousteau Society handle it from now on.”

 “But…it’s our job to bring them all home…absolve the shame…”

“We need  to concentrate on you, not some old bones. And remember, you said right from the beginning that  finding the slaves and returning them home wouldn’t be able to remove the stain of what Sheamus did to the Nelson name.”

“He’s right, sweetie,” Mrs. Crane reappeared,  “all that matters to either of us, to any of us, is you.” Then she placed my hand in hers then upon Lee’s, “and if you still want to be a Nelson, or a Crane, or even Superman, you have my blessing. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for being so jealous of your love for Harriman. I was wrong and I can only hope you’ll forgive me.”

“But…Pop…he’s so upset…”

“It was a dream, sweetie. Think back. Do you ever remember Edward wearing plaid?”

“But the air around him… was so cold…”

“Possible anemia,” Doc said. “We’ll check for that in the hospital.”

“Hospital?”

“Yes, Bermuda General…you need further tests. Tests I can’t give you here. I’m still concerned about any lasting effects from that concussion and why you can’t see.”

 “I do feel kind of…drained. Wha…why’s Frank laughing?”

“Because,” Will said, “ I had to drill a hole in your skull to relieve the pressure…so you really are drained, literally.”

“Oh,” Lee grinned, and squeezed my hand. “Bermuda General, huh? I uh, don’t suppose I can have visitors?”

“Wild bears couldn’t keep me from you,” Mrs. Crane said.

“I don’t think that’s who he’s thinking about, Mrs. C.,” I smirked.

“Well,” Lee said, “sure would be nice to see Kate again and…chat some more, up close and personal instead of on a videophone.”

Everyone laughed a little until Doc cleared us out so he and Frank could bundle Lee up again. But he allowed Mrs. Crane to stay. As much as I wanted to as well, and I’m sure Will would have let me, well, mother and son needed a little re-bonding to do.

It remains to be seen what the neurosurgeons will uncover, but I don’t think it will matter even if they find the blindness is permanent, or if there’s something else terribly wrong. My boy is cognitive, remembers me, and even hates Sick Bay. What more do I need?

And almost as soon as the Flying Sub launched, the Seaview resumed the excavations and discovered not only a ship’s bell, but the bones of a skeleton with a rusted strong box that fallen into it’s rib cage, still being clutched by a bony arm. Measurements are being taken, and its buttons, buckle, jewelry and ring removed for any possible identification, though everyone aboard has begun to call him Sheamus.

Chip’s begun the procedure to remove the rust from both the bell and strong box, but will not open the box as the hinges are totally rusted and glued shut by the addition of some long dead organic calcifications.

In spite of Lee’s certainty, the scientist in me had to let everyone concerned that it still might not be Sea Nymph’s bell, nor her strong box. And of course, those bones might not  be those of my notorious ancestor.

Only time will tell.