My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

~In God We Trust~

4

“We’re hardly a vintage sub,” Chip sighed mournfully after I’d informed him of our mission in his cabin once Jiggs had departed.

“He knows that, Lad. We may have installed what we hope is equal to the task in confounding their systems, aboard Seaview and every other American and allied vessel as well as in our ground support bases. But the fact remains that a Borealis class sub, well, out-classes us. No pun intended.”

“I suppose so...all right, but...I never thought we wouldn’t be first choice to be in the front lines anymore, so to speak.”

“There was a letter with the orders,” I said, pulling it out and handing it to him. “Go ahead, read it. It’s not gushy or anything like that. He still thinks you, have better instincts than the high tech captains of the Borealis vessels. But, right now it’s the hardware that counts more. And as president, he has no choice but to lean a bit more on that. ”

“Yeah, but,” Chip hesitated, then began to read Lee’s letter, occasionally frowning, occasionally grinning. Finally he finished and handed it back to me. “Went to bat for you regarding ‘Harriman’ and ‘Harriet’.”

“I had nothing to do with those names. They were Edith’s ideas. To keep the name in the family.”

“The crew has a few ideas. They’re having a drawing to see if any of their choices makes it to the final.”

“Heavens. What’s the prize?”

“I don’t think there is one. You know the most popular name right now? Would you believe Lee for the boy and Leigh for the girl. I told them that would be rather confusing for the kids in that the name would sound identical and that Lee, our president, that is, would give you and the wife hell if you named the kids after him...didn’t stop the men who like the name from scribbling it out to put in the name barrel. Or to mention it to their families.”

A knock at the door interrupted.

“In!” Chip hollered and the door opened.

“Excuse me, sirs,” Sharkey said, “everything is stowed and all hands have reported aboard, even Kowalski.”

“Kowalski?” I asked, confused. “I thought he left to go to college and joined the NROTC...”

“He did,” Chip said. “I hope he hasn’t been kicked out for behavior unbecoming. He scored well on the college entrance exam....”

“He’s wearing a midshipman’s uniform,” Sharkey said, also confused.

I clicked on the intercom, “Kowalski, report to the captain’s cabin on the double.”

“Aye, sir,” Ski’s voice answered.

I hunted in my back pants pocket for my packet of cigarettes, but either I’d forgotten to put them there, or Emmie had removed them before I’d left for Seaview.

Chip opened one of his desk drawers, and pulled out shrink wrapped packet of my favorite brand, handing it to me while pulling out a spotlessly clean ash tray, which I assumed he kept for the occasional visit by tobacco aficionados.

The knock on the door interrupted my musings.

“In,” Chip called out.

And there he was, Midshipman fourth class Toliver Kowalski, who snapped to attention.

“We understand you’ve reported for duty?” his captain asked.

“Yes, sir. My orders, sir,” Ski said, taking out the official document from his breast pocket, handing it over to Morton who read it with a raised eyebrow then handing it to me.

“I didn’t know the Navy was this desperate,” Chip joked, suddenly realizing how that must have sounded to the man in question, “Nothing personal, Ski, but pulling a middie out of training when he’s only been in it for a half of a year, well, you can imagine...for any special skills you’ve learned, perhaps?”

“None that I’m aware of, Mr. Morton, er, excuse me, Captain.”

“Everything appears to be in order. Well, welcome back aboard, Midshipman Kowalski.”

“Thank you sir.”

“The crew may require a little time to adjust to your position. Chief? Make sure they realize Ski is to be treated with all due respect.”

“I don’t expect any special treatment, sir,” Ski said. “In fact, if it’s all the same to you, can’t I just go back to being an ordinary seaman, for the duration?”

“Absolutely not,” I said. “You’ll just have to get used to it. After all, Clarke managed without too much difficulty...until he got the idea he could get away with trying to take over the boat.”

“I’d never do that, sir!”

“Glad to hear it. You’ll bunk in one of the vacant guest cabins. Sorry, Ski, we don’t have one you can double up in. And, don’t forget, you’ll dine in the Wardroom now.”

As his face fell, Chip grinned.

“But I don’t think any of us would mind if you joined the crew for a chat in the Crew’s Mess.”

“Thank you, Mr...Captain.”

“Very well, dismissed.”

“Now that’s a new moniker, Mr. Captain,” I laughed after Ski and Sharkey had departed.

“Where the hell am I going to put him, duty wise? “Chip mused.

“Sparks,” I spoke into the intercom, while re reading Ski’s orders, “contact Admiral Clancy in Operations. Not urgent.”

“Aye sir.”

Chip raised an eyebrow.

“I’d like to know if Ski is the only middie to be pulled for at sea duty,” I explained. “Something about this doesn’t make sense...and I like things to make sense. Meanwhile, begin preparations to get underway...once our midshipman’s settled in, that is.”

“Aye, sir,” Chip said with a grin. “You’re not going to have one of those?” he asked indicating my still tightly wrapped cigarette carton.

“Perhaps I’m more de-toxified than I thought. Keep them...I’ll let you know if I get desperate.”

“Admiral?” Sparks voice came over the intercom. “I have Admiral Clancy. Unsecured. Line one.”

“Clancy?” I spoke into desk phone after punching the correct button. “A Midshipman Kowalski’s been assigned to me...K.O.W.A....yes. formerly Seaman First Class Toliver Kowalski. He served aboard Seaview. Yes, that one...of course it’s official, the orders came from your office, after all...oh. Well, find out! No, I’m not complaining about your office procedures...no I can’t hold. Call me when you find out,” I added, then hung up. “I think I will have that packet of cigarettes now, Chip.”

***

We had been underway for an hour when the call back came. Chip had put Ski in the conning tower with Lt. O’Brien while Seaview was still topside. Probably more to keep him out of the way while trying to decide as he’d said, ‘what to do with him’.

Clancy had called via the videophone and I had Sparks put it on the radio shack’s monitor....

“Admiral Nelson, sorry about the delay. Took awhile to trace the order. Issued by the president. Surprised he didn’t mention it to you....I mean, of all people I’d have thought he would have discussed it with you.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure he had too many things on his plate. Thank you. Nelson out.”

“Well I’ll be,” Sparks said with a grin.

“Get me the president,” I ordered, “Status of the call not urgent or secure or official. The president and I are going to have a little talk...I’ll take it in my cabin.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Excuse me, sirs,” Kowalski called out as he climbed down the ladder, “Mr...Captain Morton told me to report to the radio shack to shadow Sparks.”

“Very well,” I said, “and Sparks, hurry up that call to Lee, er, the White House.”

“Aye, sir.”

I couldn’t help but to eavesdrop as I headed aft.

“The White House?” Ski asked Sparks as he grabbed a chair.

“Yeah, the admiral wants to have a little talk with him.”

“Oh shit.”

Indeed.

***

I’d been checking out the specs of the latest intercept and destruct simulations in the lab with Sharkey and neither of us were happy about their continued failures.

“The software was thoroughly tested,” I mused. “We must be doing something wrong...or the simulators have a glitch or...well, I don’t even want to think that the Navy spent a fortune on the new tech installed in all the Borealis subs...or the damn system’s been sabotaged.”

“Admiral?” Sparks called over the PA. “I’m sorry, sir, but Cdr. Jackson says the president’s unavailable to return your call just now. Wants to know if you’d like to give him a message to relay?”

“Put the commander on the monitor in Lab B.”

“Right away.”

In seconds the screen on the wall began to fizzle and finally cleared to show Jackson in one of the private White House offices. It was cluttered with paperwork on the desk, on top of file folders, and in the bookcases. Sweetie had chosen to lie under the desk lamp, tummy up.

“What can I help you with, Admiral?”

“No, chief, don’t leave,” I ordered Sharkey as he turned to leave.

“Actually, Joseph,” I continued, “there are two things I’d like to speak with Lee about. Firstly, the damn simulation of the new intercept and destruct software’s not working. And secondly, actually the first thing I wanted to ask him, was why he assigned Kowalski back to Seaview? Ski’ only just started his NROTC program a few months ago....”

“I’m afraid you’d have to ask Lee that, sir. As for the software, no one else has indicated a problem. Could be an independant mechanical failure. It happens to simulators sometimes.”

“Well, it had better not happen to the real things!” Sharkey said.

“We’ll issue an emergency ‘check’ on all of the installed software on the Borealis fleet.”

“Good,” I said. “Any idea when Lee can get back to me?”

“Well, there was a news report a little while ago. He made an unscheduled stop at Annapolis.”

“Of course,” I said, swatting my forehead. “Graduation day...”

“I’m sure there will be replays from broadcasters who got footage from cell phones and....”

“Jackson!” the Vice President Sisemen interrupted, hands on hips. “Er, sorry. Didn’t know you were on the phone...oh, Admiral Nelson...”

“Mr. Vice President...”

“While you’re on the line, perhaps you can assist me. Will you, in your capacity as the president’s most cherished family member, please inform him that he’s darn near incited a mutiny with the Secret Service! Visited the motor pool and while pretending to check on the ‘Scarlet Peril’ for dust and rust, took off in it.”

It was hard not to show my amusement at the code for Lee’s bright red Cobra. “Sped away while the Secret Service had to scramble to follow him out and onto the freeway!” Siesmen said. “They finally managed to catch up but it was too late...just hope we don’t see it in the news. The president of the United States pulled over for speeding! Was clocked at doing 100 mph! Oh, the embarrassment...the leader of the free world putting himself at risk, and others, at risk. Very bad example”

“Lee’s too good a driver to put anyone at risk,” Joe said.

“How many times do I have to remind you to refer to the president as president! At least in public or while on duty!”

“Sorry, sir.”

“And you can tell him from me,” the VP continued, “that I don’t appreciate his little impromptu speeches. Damn it, that’s what the speech writers are for, to make life at the top easier for him. At the rate he’s going, we might as well get rid of them all.”

“He’s not used to having others put words into his mouth...and even you have to agree he’s a born orator.”

“Yes, well...Cdr. Jackson, will you please take this cat back into the residence? My nose is beginning to drip already! I can only imagine everyone else with allergies....”

“Right away, Mr. Vice President and...oh, hello Mr. Todd,” he added to the Chief of Staff entering.

“Jackson, Mr. Vice President...I need the cat. The Oval Office is full of sniveling third graders disappointed that the president’s late for their meeting. Their teachers think a visit with Sweetie will allay some of the whining. Didn’t work too well with Winston...Admiral Nelson, isn’t it?” he asked of me on the screen as he picked up the cat who ‘argued’ with tooth and claw. “Ow! Jackson, you take the damn cat to the Oval Office,” he ordered handing Sweetie over. “And Admiral? What is it about the president and red? You’d think he’d have realized more red cars are stopped for traffic violations than any other. His ticket’s all over the news.”

“I’d better let you go, Commander,” I told Lee’s spook buddy, “have him call me back asap.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

I was glad I was not going to be anywhere near when Lee returned to face the wrath of both the chief of staff and the VP, not to mention the director of the Secret Service. I began to question the wisdom of that little talk I’d planned.

***

“I’m sorry, sir,” Sparks called out more than three hours later when I headed down the spiral ladder to the Observation Nose, “Nothing yet. Would you like me to transmit the request again?”

“No, never mind,” I sighed,“ I’m sure he’ll get the message.”

“Something on the news....” Ski called from the Radio Shack, Sparks clicking on the monitors.

“...There was some excitement regarding the president today,” a reporter was saying, “Late to host a scheduled meeting with some honoree third graders, it was learned that he’d been pulled over for a traffic violation...”

The scene turned to the Maryland Highway Patrol, and two traffic cops being interviewed.

“...We clocked the sports car at 110 miles per hour,” the first cop was saying.

“...Despite no other vehicles nearby, that was excessive. And dangerous if he’d lost control or something, ” the second officer added. “Well, he did slow down and stop on the shoulder after he saw our lights and heard our sirens. At first we though the driver was simply a look alike, right down to the eyepatch. But when we checked his registration and license, well Lordy, it was well and truly the president.”

“...I’d like to know,” Officer One said, “where the Secret Service was. Hell, anybody could have rammed into him, kidnapped him, or worse....”

“...We hung around until the Secret Service finally arrived. Never did see anyone so depressed having to hand over the keys to his little red car and get into one of their super special cars. You know, bullet proof glass and reinforced body work...even special tires. One of the agents drove it back to the White House behind in the president in the Secret Service car. By the way, did you know more red cars are stopped and cited for speeding than any other color?”

“...Was he still issued a ticket after you knew who he was?” a reporter asked.

“...He insisted...he’s a darn good law abiding citizen...except when he got behind the wheel. It’s a vintage classic...said he admitted he’d gotten a bit carried away with the feel of her, and the wind in his hair. Called it ‘her’...guess that’s the submariner in him.”

The screen changed to a school bus, dropping its charges off.

“...The select group of third graders who had to wait for their scheduled meeting with the president, returned to their bus after their visit, undeterred by his tardiness as we can hear from the pupils returning to class.

“...Oh wow, he was so nice!” a girl said dreamily.

“...Winston growled at me,” a boy said. “But when the president arrived and heard about it, he made Winston say he was sorry. He did too. Rolled over, then offered his paw to shake my hand.”

“...That’s nothing,” a girl added, “the kitty was really sweet. Purred and everything while we waited.”

“...I asked him about his speeding ticket,” a boy said, “we saw the report on Facebook, he admitted he’d been pulled over, and that he was deeply ashamed that he was speeding, and putting himself and others at risk. He also said he’d never do that again. ‘Course, I sure bet the Secret Service won’t let him take a joy ride in his little car again...back under the dust cover now, they said.”

“...At least they could have let us stay a bit longer,” another boy said, “but I think they wanted to scold him without us there. The Vice President was scowling. Other people were too.”

“...We saw the desk where he does a lot of work,” a girl said, “and we got some pictures taken with him...oh, he is so gorgeous. Even with scars and that eyepatch....”

“White House on the line for you, Admiral,” Ski called out, interrupting whatever it was the girl was going to continue to say. “Not secure,” Sparks added.

“I’ll take it here,” I told Chip.

“Transfer to the Observation Nose videophone,” he called out to the radio shack.

As the videophone fizzled to life, I was surprised to see nothing but the Oval Office and the cluttered ‘Resolute’ desk.

“Damn it, Lee!” Jackson’s voice yelled. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep that damn eye someplace where Winston and Sweetie can’t get it!”

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Lee’s voice was cooing, suddenly changing to a painful “Ow!”

“Give it back you damn cat!” Jackson yelled.

“Don’t yell at her! It’s my fault! Didn’t expect it to roll away from me before I got it out of the jar of solvent on the coffee table. And Sweetie can’t help it if she thinks of it as a toy or one of the resident rats...”

“Rats?” Riley exclaimed from his station.

“Your eyeball hardly looks like a rodent!” Jackson was continuing his tirade, “ Forget trying to get it away from her now. Nelson’s on the line. And cover that gaping hole in your head with an eyepatch. He might not mind seeing you without it, bbaut the call is unsecured and we don’t want to startle Homeland Security or worse, the Secret Service. They’re upset enough with you as it is.”

“Then change the call status! Harry’s been waiting long enough. He can a bit longer. Damn, congress is going to kill me if I have to get the eyeball replaced again. Mallie sure made short of it and now Sweetie...maybe it’s a cat thing....Sweetie, c’mon...here, kitty, kitty. Drop it....Ow! Ow! Ow!”

There was a moment of silence before Joe’s face joined his voice on the screen.

“Admiral? Might be a little delay. Afraid Sweetie let him have it when he tried to pull her new ‘play toy’ away from her....Lee? Damn it,” he added rushing out of view. “Go wash your hands before you bleed all over the carpet. And use some Neosporin! And the big Band Aids!”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Hurry up! Sure don’t want to call the surgeon general to fix you up. We’ll have to inform Bethesda though that the prosthesis may be ruined....”

“They can fix it, if housekeeping can find it,” Lee sighed. “Just hope she hasn’t taken it to her litter box...Sweetie? Sweetie? Where’d you go?”

“What the hell’s going on in here?” someone demanded, in a trample of footsteps.

“Careful!” both Lee and Jackson yelled while Winston barked and Sweetie hissed.

“The cat’s foaming at the mouth!” somebody said, followed by a crash of metal, “Oh gawd, my aching butt!” someone said.

“Sorry Agent Penderson,” Jackson said. “Sweetie got a hold of the president’s eyeball and you must have slipped on it...”

“You okay?” Lee asked gently. “Hey, guys, give Sally a hand up.”

“I’m fine, Mr. President...yeech, that your eyeball?”

“Well...it was,” Jackson said.

“Doesn’t look that bad,” Lee said. “just a couple of fang punctures and some dents...should still work.”

“Don’t you dare shove it into the socket like that!” Jackson yelled. “Thank God I caught you before you actually put it in! Cheech, Lee. It’s got cat drool all over it, carpet fibers, maybe even some litter and rodent hair....”

“The litter box cat saliva’s cleaner than ours.”

“Agent Penderson,” Jackson continued, “here, please take the eyeball and put it in that jar over there labeled Optical Solvent. Then take charge of it so our cat burglar can’t.

“Why is the cat drooling?” she asked, at least I assumed it was her, being a her.

“Probably the solvent...”

“Leave me alone!” Lee shouted, “I’m fine!”

“Sir, you have bite and claw marks on your hands...and you didn’t bandage them very well...”

“We’ve called the surgeon general in,” another voice said.

“Oh good grief,” Lee whined.

“Admiral,” Jackson said, appearing on screen again, our apologies....”

“No problem, Joe. Lee seems to be having a stressful day.”

“And,” Joe sighed, “it’s not over yet...Lee? The chief of staff and the Secretary of State are here. Admiral, you might have to wait a bit longer or will you want Lee to call you back?”

“At his convenience,” I said.

Joe raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I admit I’d wanted to have a little talk with him, but I think it can wait for while.”

“Good to hear,” Lee said, coming into view, taking his seat, his shirt’s cuffs splattered with blood, his Band Aids unevenly applied. He’d shoved a linen handkerchief into his empty orbital socket, making it look far worse than it would have without something to hide the opening. “Word is you were concerned about my appointment of Ski to Seaview....”

“Well, I was concerned in that he hasn’t even completed a full year of NROTC program not to mention his first year of college.”

“Yes. Thank God the college is in between semesters. As for NROTC, he’ll accumulate credits for at sea training aboard Seaview. With some one-on- one instruction from assigned personnel...primarily from Sparks, O’Brien, and the chief....I sent him a letter with his orders explaining why I want him aboard, but I suppose he was too embarrassed to inform you about it. I kind of praised him a bit.”

“He didn’t say a word.”

“Well, frankly,” Lee said, despite all the action and noise in the Oval Office, and Sweetie’s jumping up onto his desk, while Jackson tried to wipe some of the drool off her mouth, “Kowalski’s proven his mettle as a submariner, time and again. Horse sense, I guess you might call it, especially during pesky situations and times of crisis. And now that he’s in training to become an officer, I believe he’ll give you some added support for Seaview’s assignments.”

“Understood. Though I’m not sure about Sparks and O’Brien as instructors...just what courses will they be teaching?”

“NROTC will be faxing the materials.”

“You realize we’re submariners, not school teachers....”

“Nothing you and Seaview’s officers can’t handle...now, I was going to have the SecNav send you more detailed orders, but I want you to head toward the Witch’s Cauldron....”

“Good God, Lee!”

Now it was Lee’s turn to raise his eyebrow.

“Er, are you sure that’s wise, Mr. President?” I asked formally.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to have you address me as that. I’m still Lee to you, you know. Anyway, Intel wants the area manned for observation and...well, a few other things additional orders will specify.”

“Still doesn’t make me very happy.”

“And I’m sorry about that, but you have your orders. Or at least you will shortly.”

I was silent.

“What’s wrong now?” Lee asked.

“You might want to use an eyepatch. That hankie makes your socket look more disgusting than just leaving it open.”

“Sorry. Thought it would help...see what a bad kitty you were?” Lee told his cat, who was starting to knead some of the papers on the desk, followed by some purring.

“Good thing Winston didn’t get hold of the orb,” I added. “And Lee, no more trying to sneak out and take a joy ride. At least not without a Secret Service agent.”

“Gee, Harry, that would take all the fun out of it,” Lee said with a little smirk.

“You heard me, Mr. President. Or I’ll ask your mother to reconsider becoming your First Lady again. And you know I can convince her!”

Both of us laughed, and his smirk turned into his sunshine smile, making me ignore how grotesque he looked with that hankie half in and half out of his empty socket.

“Well, God speed, Harry.”

With that the screen cleared to black.

I couldn’t help noticing the soppy grins on the crew’s faces, some having seen, others simply having listened in.

“All right, all right,” Morton ordered. “Back to work everyone.”

“Coded message from the White House for you Captain Morton,” Kowalski called out, this time having no problem with Chip’s correct address.

“Go ahead Chip. Has to be the rest of our orders. When you’re done decoding it, bring it to my cabin.”

“Aye, sir.”

***

And so it stood as I poured out two drinks in my cabin awaiting Seaview’s captain, recalling the times I’d waited for Lee. Well, that chapter in our lives was well and truly over. What will happen now, in this new chapter of our lives, well, God only knows.

~***~

Chapter Five