My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

28

Jackson was sitting at Lee’s bedside when I arrived at the hospital. I peered in from behind the door, more breathless than I should have been. I hadn’t taken the stairs, so I could only blame myself for having purchased some cigarettes from the hotel vending machine. I was glad at the time that Jiggs hadn’t followed me to my suite. (He was staying at a different hotel, anyway.) I know he would have grabbed them out of my hand or talked me to death about them. (I’m not sure which would have been worse.) I was just too damn nervous. Even more so now, as Lee’s dark bruises and bites were even more visible than they had been on the rescuers audiovisual feeds and Ozno’s broadcasts.

“You sure Riley’s okay?” Lee was asking Jackson.

“He’s fine,” Joe replied, not having noticed me at the doorway, “Oh, he still feels a little weak, but that’s normal after being tased.”

“He’s a good kid...damn. I shouldn’t think of him like that. He’s a grown man and a good crewman. They all are.” Then suddenly, frustrated, angry, “How long is the lab work going to take? I want to get out of here!”

“Settle down, bro. You haven’t been here that long. They’ve got to make sure of the results.”

“Well,” Lee sighed, “I suppose I should be grateful that I’m not foaming at the mouth. Yet, anyway.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions about the rat bites. Doesn’t mean you have Rabies.”

“Okay, okay...I’m being an ass. It’s just...I’m so tired of all the things that have been happening to me, Joe. So far on this trip, I’ve been electrocuted, bitten, shot... God only knows what’s going to happen next.”

“Calm down. They’re just your normal everyday battle scars...”

“I’m supposed to be on vacation, not on duty,” Lee pouted.

 “Making yourself bait to find Ozno was your own idea, remember? You volunteered your services. It’s not like you were drafted for hazardous duty, you know.”

“Almost wish I had been. Jamie’s going to give me hell about putting my neck out when I didn’t have to.”

“Somehow I doubt that. Fuss, maybe, fume a little, but even he’s going to be hard pressed to actually be angry with you for saving the world’s important places, not to mention a good number of people that were  in harm’s way.”

“Part of my job description to save the world. Well, it used to be, anyway. I’m so damn frustrated, Joe. I...I know I have to live with it, but...I hate being blind. I’ve tried to be brave and turn a blind eye, no pun intended, at the sights I can’t see, imagine them in my mind’s eye, put up with audio recordings when we visit museums, etc. I slip, I stumble even with my cane…being blind is not only inconvenient, it’s like being neutered or impotent.”

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating? You’ve done incredibly well. Everyone’s said so.”

“Well, maybe, but having your independence snatched away from you...having to rely on the goodness of others...I do appreciate all your help, Joe, really I do. And everyone else’s. But it still hurts. Especially when I can’t do the job I love anymore. I can't even see her!”

“I know, Lee. I know,” Joe said patting his arm.

My heart bled for my boy. I’d thought that he’d been handling his blindness pretty well. But I’d been blind myself in that I hadn’t realized quite how badly it had been hurting him.

Even  before Seaview, he’d been placed in impossible situations and was near death more times than I could count. But he’d accomplished his missions. Some of them still classified, even from me. Aboard Seaview it had been the same, on assignment with ONI or simply as Seaview’s captain, dutiful to the point of self-sacrifice to protect his crew and country. How many times had I nearly lost him?

And I’d nearly lost him again due to his high sense of doing the right thing under insurmountable odds. It had been too close, just like he’d said in Ozno’s lair when it was all over. He may have been speaking of the bombs, but it had also been too close to comfort in that he’d been hurt, bleeding, victimized by that madman.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, the memories of all the times he’d been hurt and near death flooded my mind. The ache of those times in my heart had been too much to bear as it was now. Perhaps  more so. For now Lee was my son. Perhaps only a 'paper' son as some referred to it, but I truly feel as if his blood is as much mine now as mine is his.

Protocol and professionalism be damned. I couldn’t stop my tears. I barged into the room, ran to his bedside, and  embraced him, before Joe could even vacate his seat and make himself scarce.

“Lee, Lee, Lee,” I mumbled over and over as I rocked him in my arms. “I thought I’d never see you again.” I was literally sobbing in relief that here he was, alive and probably wishing the old man would quit acting like an old woman.

“I...”he managed,  “I was scared too, Harry. So scared.”

“Yes,” I said, releasing my grip somewhat, “but probably not so much for yourself as for others.”

“No,” he said looking up at me blindly, his eyes moist, “I was scared just as much for me as everyone. Especially when I thought I’d be eaten alive too. And I sure as hell didn’t want Air Force One to explode, or any of those other places and those people...”

“I’m sure the president will be glad to hear it...he called me, while you were captive. Jiggs actually took the call. Told Jiggs to tell me that he was sorry you were going to die.”

“I would have thought he’d be pleased,” Lee said trying to make light of it.”

“Lee...”

“Okay, okay, but it’s no secret I don’t like the man and hope he doesn’t run for another term.”

“Don’t be so hard on him...he already feels guilty about ducking out on the plane.”

“He had no choice. It’s the president’s job to stay alive and pick up the pieces after a crisis.”

“He didn’t see it that way.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“You might also be surprised to learn that Dr. Wixom was a help to us in finding you.”

“Yeah, Joe told me. I’ll have to thank him. I’ll have to thank everyone....”

“Excuse me,” a doctor said, entering the room. “We have the captain’s test results.”

I moved off the bed as Lee sat up, his legs dangling over the side.

“Am I rabid?” Lee asked.

“No. But the bites and other wounds are infected. With antibiotics and proper care, you should be fine, In fact, your ship’s doctor...”

“Boat,” Lee corrected, “submarines are boats.”

“Well," he laughed, " your boat’s doctor stressed that you’d do better out of the hospital than in it. Even if he’d personally prefer you stay and rest here for the next few days...”

“Jamie said that? Will wonders never cease? So, I can get out of here right now?”

“As soon as your friends bring you some fresh clothes.”

“Good. Joe and I need to catch a train to Austria.”

“I forgot all about that,” I said. “You sure you still want to go? I’m sure no one will mind if you don’t get to Vienna’s grand ball.”

“I’ll mind,” Lee said and reached for my hand, “come with us, Harry. I’m sure we can swing an extra invite. Besides, you can run interference if Mrs. Piccadilly gets too motherly. I've been told that she's bringing to tour with her.”

Just then the American Ambassador arrived.

“For the captain,” she handed me a stiff card. “To be hand delivered to Captain Lee Nelson-Crane, in  care of Admiral Harriman Nelson.”

“What is it, Harry?

“It’s from the President of France...my God. They’re awarding you the Legion of Honor.”

“It’s their highest award for gallantry,” the ambassador said. “Four o’ clock this afternoon.”

He whistled, then, “I’m honored, but...there’s no ‘I’ in teamwork. I don’t deserve it. Besides, we’ll miss our train.”

“I hear where you’re coming from, Captain,” the ambassador said, “but to refuse would be taken as an insult.”

“Oh.”

“There’s another way to make it to Vienna on time, Lee,” I said.

And so we presented ourselves at the president’s official residence, in our best civvies. The public and press had been invited, and I had no doubt that the good old reliable BBC was in the standing room only crowd somewhere.

Lee was embarrassed by all the praise. He truly believed that he didn’t deserve it. But he was more embarrassed when the president kissed him on both cheeks ( as is the custom in France) after placing the beribboned medal over his head.

Later he whispered to me that Chip would never let him hear the end of it. Protocol dictated that we stay awhile at the reception as everyone offered their congratulations but I could tell that Lee was getting antsy.

When the ambassador whispered to me that enough time had passed for us to escape, we took our leave of the president, and got a taxi to the dock where the flying sub was still being guarded by the military police.

“You want to take her out, Admiral?” Sharkey asked as Lee, Jackson, and I boarded through the rear hatch.

“No way,” Lee said. “He’s had one to many.”

“He only had one drink,” Joe said.

“Enough to side with Lee,” I said. “ You pilot, Sharkey. We’ll land in the Danube do drop us off, then you get the men back to Seaview. Return for me after the party.”

“You’re not joining us for the rest of the tour?” Jackson asked me, confused.

“No, I figure bringing the old man to this Austrian wingding will be enough adult supervision  for you two to last awhile. Lee doesn’t agree with me, but age has its privileges. Just make sure he takes his new meds.”

As we cleared French air space I couldn’t help noticing that Lee was reveling in the feel of the flying sub, her little vibrations, the sound of her jet engines...oh how that must hurt as well, not to be able to fly her any more.

It’s a little while later and we’re already seeing Vienna’s lights and their reflections in the Danube. We’ll be making our decent soon, so I’d better stop this hen scratching and tuck it away to get placed in my journal later.