My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

89

And so Lee was back in saddle, so to speak, and duty delayed our talk, at least in private.

Instead of Chip’s Tuna Surprise and Joe’s Green Bean Casserole for supper, we were all treated to Thanksgiving Dinner. Not that it was anywhere near Thanksgiving. But it felt right. And indeed I’d heard several crewmen saying they were thankful for their skipper being right back where he belonged.

It didn’t matter to anyone,(at least I didn’t hear anyone complain),that several of the items on the menu weren’t from scratch. From the dried processed turkey meat to the packaged stuffing and gravy mixes, Cranberry Sauce, (the kind that stands upright from the can), nobody cared. This was a celebration. Pumpkin Pie and whipped cream completed the meal. And they too, had been created from processed products. (Hey, we’re aboard a submarine; can’t very well store weighty pumpkins aboard.)

Finally the meal was over and Lee and I headed to his cabin. Not the one with the paper sign. The real cabin that Chip had ordered left vacant and waiting for Lee's hoped for return.

“I’m surprised everyone cared so much,” he said, rather humbled by his reception, as he sat on his bunk.

“And why not,” I said. “You’re the heart and soul of this boat, you know.”

“Harry…”

“It’s true.”

“God, Harry,” he said as he ran his hand over the bulkhead, “just to feel her…soak her in. I’ve missed her so much. You know, I feel…a bit drunk with her,” he laughed quietly, then looked up at me. “I’m sorry for all I put you through. After I got my vision back, I was just so confused about everything. I should have listened to you all along. Just think of the time and trouble it would have saved. Though, I would have finished out Mrs. P.’s tour except for the damn press hounding me all the time.”

“Anything I should know about your chat with the White House?”

“Only that I was invited to a state dinner. Turned it down.”

“Lee…”

“Wasn’t an official request.”

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

Lee looked uneasy and began to pace around the cabin.

“He wants to give me a medal.”

“Well,” I slapped him on the shoulder, “you deserve one! From your own country at least.”

“That’s what he said. But…Harry, I can’t accept it. It was a joint operation to bring Ozno down. Besides, I can’t be awarded a medal. I wasn’t in the Navy or the Reserves at the time. Case closed.”

“Well, there is that technicality…but you do deserve it. And no amount of whining about it is going to change that. Now,” I said, giving him a hug, “I didn’t have a chance to say it before, but welcome home, son. This is where you belong, and don’t you ever think otherwise.”

“Yeah,” he said, sheepishly, “I guess I was pretty stupid.”

“No doubt about it,” I laughed.

“Join me for a nightcap later, after I make my rounds?” he asked, “Hot chocolate with marshmallows? Even if it is that instant stuff.”

“Fine. 2300 in the Observation Nose?”

“Great. Now, if I can only remember my way around….”he teased as he headed aft to ‘walk the boat’.

When I reported to the Observation Nose as agreed, there was just one problem. Oh, the mugs were on the table. Two instant cocoa mixes lay along with spoons, and a bag of mini marshmallows with a carafe of hot water standing by. But Lee was sound asleep.

I was also surprised to see Maleficent on his lap, but then saw cat treat crumbs on his shirt, crumbs that hadn’t joined the ones on the deck. So, Maleficent had found another patsy in Seaview’s captain.

.

Also on the table were  the scrapbooks that the crew had compiled out of all their clippings, screen caps, etc. The latest was of Lee, the skeleton’s hands in his hair.

Just then Chip  and Joe joined me.

“Joseph!” I hissed and pointed to the picture.

“What?” Chip asked. “You took this picture, Joe? Kowalski found it online! I thought belonged to the press.”

“I only shared it with a friend I swore to secrecy,” Joe said. “ How was I to know it would go viral.”

“He’ll never live this down,” Chip said sadly, looking at our sleeping skipper fondly.

“Oh yes he will,” I said. “Might be embarrassed awhile, but he’ll get over it.” Then I poured the hot water into my mug, added one of the packaged cocoa mixes, stirred it a bit, added a few marshmallows and  raised it in tribute. “To Lee Beauregard Nelson-Crane, lady killer. Even of the dead ones.”

We couldn’t help laughing.

“He really must be exhausted,” Joe said as Lee hadn’t stirred.

“A shame to wake him up to tell him to go to bed. How about we let him bunk here?” Chip asked.

“Don’t you think that might be a bit distracting to the crew?” I asked, nodding toward the men at the their stations casting sideways, ( and affectionate) glances toward him.

“Not a problem,” Chip said.

“Yeah,” Joe said, “Lee told me about your tongue.  No one aboard would risk it.”

“Part of my job as XO. Finally," Chip sighed in relief.

“Will the cat be okay in here with him?” I asked," shouldn't she be back with the kittens?”

“Oh, she’ll saunter on back to them  when she knows it’s time. Instinct, you know.”

“I’m not sure,” Joe said, “she seems to have found another sucker for her feline affections.”

“The cat treats are called ‘Temptations’. Lee must have purchased them in Ireland before he talked the Coast Guard into the carting him to us. I’m sure Mallie still thinks I’m number one in her life.”

As if she’d heard him, Maleficent yawned  and after deciding that there were no more treats on Lee’s person, happily jumped off Lee and looked up at Chip with an inquiring meow.

“Well, I’ll give O’Brien the conn while I take her back to her brood, if she’ll let me.”

“You know,” Joe said as we watched, just watched, Lee sleep, “he’s going to be embarrassed he bunked out here.”

“Somehow,” I said, “I think he’ll feel just fine about it. He’s come home.”

“Yeah,” he said “‘Leave them alone, and they’ll come home, wagging their tails behind them’. Little Bo Peep must have been a shrink. Well, goodnight sir. Want me to close the pleats?” he asked as he headed toward the spiral ladder.

“No, I’ll do it,” I said, leaned over, and kissed Lee on the forehead before I returned to the Control Room and pressed the button to close the pleats to close  off the Observation Nose.

If I’d expected the crew to smirk at my paternal display, I’m glad to say no one did. In fact, as I headed aft, I received several heartfelt ‘goodnight sir’s.’ Not a sneer on any of their faces.