My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

3. Indigestion

I couldn’t help yawning over my morning coffee, but I was sure it wasn’t a side effect from the nicotine patch. I was still so pissed off from last night that I’d barely gotten a few winks. Certainly not enough to make up for the lack of sleep.

At first I’d been pleasantly surprised there hadn’t been any reporters lying in wait at Sharkey’s to intrude on our supper.

It might have been better if there had been. People tend to behave themselves if they’re being watched by the press.

In spite of the spaghetti special, which included especially tasty garlic bread sticks, it was difficult for Lee and I to enjoy our meal or engage in pleasant conversation, as we were continually scrutinized by the other diners, most of whom glared at us with sour looks, shaking their heads.

“I should have known better, Harry,” Lee sighed and wearily laid his spaghetti laden fork down. “Let’s get some ‘doggie bags’ and go home.”

I couldn’t agree more and after we’d paid our bill, and headed to the door, most of the crowd erupted in applause.

“Go to hell!” I yelled back at them and huffed out.

“Wait! Please!” Sharkey came running out of the door just before we got into Lee’s little red toy as the crew called his sports car.

“The guys just told me what happened! I was in back at the loading dock. Oh, Skipper, Admiral. I’m so sorry the customers did that! In fact, I’m gonna’ go right back in there and tell the whole kit and caboodle of those deadbeats to scram and to not come back!”

“Oh, no you don’t, Chief,” Lee ordered.

“But Skip! They insulted you and the admiral!”

“That may be,” I said, “but you could lose your business license. And there are greedy lawyers out there just waiting for customers to complain. There could be lawsuits. Minor, but think of the bad publicity.”

I could tell that Sharkey was struggling between throttling his customers and listening to reason.

“Please, Chief?” Lee asked.

“Ah heck. Ok, Skipper. I won’t kick any of ‘em out. Maybe I can just put something bad in their coffee…just kidding,” he added at Lee’s raised eyebrow.

“Very well,” Lee said, “by the way, supper was very good.”

“Aw shucks, you always say that Skipper.”

“It’s the truth, Francis,” I added, grinning while getting into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, well, um, okay. G’night sirs.”

“Good night,” Lee said and turned the ignition, waving goodbye.

Wherever we were going we were headed there fast. In fact I expected sirens to start blaring behind us any moment. But thankfully, Lee slowed down and pulled over into a small parking area overlooking the ocean below the cliffs.

Normally I’d have noticed how impressive the sunset was, but I was still too angry to discern it.

“I wish I’d told them to go to hell,” Lee finally said. “But I wasn’t brave enough. I really am sorry for talking you into going out, Harry.”

“No, it was a good idea. I’d been acting like a frightened child. Speaking of children, have you and Chip resolved whatever it is between you?”

Lee hesitated.

“I’m sorry, son. You don’t have to tell me.”

“He thinks I’ve been ignoring him,” Lee finally admitted.

“Ignoring him? Have you?”

“I don’t think so. I was sure I’d included him in everything we were doing in Boston, especially while he was stuck with the refit. But I’m not so sure anymore. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out before our next cruise. By the way, have you decided which of the proposals you’d like Seaview to take on, now that she’s just about ready?”

“I’m still so upset about all our bad press, I don’t think I can give any of them the review they deserve.”

“Me neither…”

We watched the last of the sun’s rays dissolve over the sea pretty much in silence with our own thoughts.

“Hey!” Lee suddenly said. “I forgot all about our doggie bags! Want to finish off the food here?”

“Never mind the food. I’m not really in the mood to eat now.”

“But you hardly had anything.”

“This is a switch. It’s usually me badgering you to eat,” I chuckled.

“Okay, I’ll toss them together in a casserole for lunch tomorrow. Don’t worry. My Mom showed me how. We’ll also have peanut butter bread to go with it. Maybe we can get in a game of golf afterwards.”

“You think the Country Club will let us in the door?” I laughed.

“They pretty much have to, unless the T times are all taken.”

“Lee,” I hesitated, “about the NAACP…”

“Ah, well, let’s just say our membership folders were sort of ‘misplaced’   for a while. They should be found any day now. Don’t look at me like that. I had to do something….let’s just say I used a little initiative.”

“That’s downright fraud, Lee.”

“Okay, it’s fraud. At least saying we were members gave us a little breathing room from all the hoopla regarding Sheamus.”

 “All right, all right…but if it comes out you lied to those reporters….”

“Temporary amnesia due to my gunshot wound or some other trauma I’ve had. I’ve certainly had enough we could choose from.”

In a better mood by the time Lee dropped me off and waved goodbye, I hoped for a good night’s sleep but couldn’t get the image of those folks and their applause out of my mind. I was hated. So was Lee. And that’s what hurt the worst.

And so, after a miserable night, at least I can count on a good lunch. As for the Country Club and what they’ll do, we’ll simply have to wait and see.