My Journal by Harriman Nelson- Lean on Me

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My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

30


“Well,” I said, giving Lee a goodbye hug at the train station, “you have a good time, and keep in touch this time. Along with any news about when you finally won’t need those sunglasses.”

“Harry? Are you sure you don’t want to come along? There’s still time to get a ticket.”

“No, even though she didn’t say it, the addition of another person would interfere with all the plans Mrs. P.'s already made. Accommodations, meals, trains, busses...you get the idea. We’ll do something together when we’re back home in Santa Barbara.”

Just then the train whistle blew and a sea of passengers began to move toward the ramp.

“Joe...” I began.

“I’ll take good care of him for you Admiral,” he said, grabbing Lee’s arm and beginning to drag him toward the platform.

“Cheech, you both treat me like a kid sometimes,” Lee complained then looked back, “Harry? Take care of yourself...have a good flight...tell Doc not to worry...ow!” he added as he tripped over his own feet.

“You are the clumsiest person alive on the planet!” Joe said, taking one of Lee’s bags.

“You okay?” I hollered above the growing noise of the crowd.

“I’m fine!” he shouted, waved, and turned. “Cheech, Joe, I don’t need you as a crutch!” he said, “my ankle's just a little sore. Let go of me!”

“Pick, pick, pick,” Joe replied as they disappeared within the crowd to board the train.

Another whistle, then two, as the platform cleared and the train doors closed. A triple burst of whistle and the train began make tracks...sorry about the pun.

I waited until it was out of sight, then made my way back to my waiting taxi. Another short drive and I’d be boarding the flying sub to take me home to Seaview.

I knew I’d have to field a battery of questions from Sharkey, not to mention Chip, when we arrived. About Lee, well, that would be easy. According to all the tests, his optic nerves looked completely normal, no residual swelling at all. The sunglasses, well, just for awhile.

As for his next destination, I wasn’t too sure about how to tell the crew that  the first stop in Italy would be Venice.

I could hear theie grumbles in my mind already. The worry. The fear. That the skipper was headed back to the very place where he’d nearly lost his life in a cloak and dagger assignment, shot, framed for murder, the wound badly infected for weeks after, festering from the filthy stagnant canals.

They’d made major improvements since. If Lee decided to go for a swim, or found himself falling into a canal and scraping a part of his anatomy, at least the scratch (or worse) wouldn’t get infected, well, at least not much.

Of course it was foolish to consider the scenarios my imagination was thinking up. I could only pray that at least now, he’d be able to just relax and enjoy the place like any ordinary tourist.

Ordinary tourist? Tourist, yes. Ordinary? Not on your life.

Entry #31