TRWD24

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
24

When the mayor had heard that we were renting a mini-van, he insisted on us using his and that he’d pick us up dockside. I was surprised he was one of the local volunteers that had signed up to accompany us on the hike.
It wasn’t a long drive to Land’s End Pub and I made sure I asked him to stop now and then for me to get out and take pictures and make notes.
The pub’s parking lot was crowded with cars, hikers, and the press.

After I gave a short briefing, the hikers drew straws for the north, south, east, and west routes. I specifically asked the mayor and Angus McDonald to be on my team (good PR and to keep an eye on Angus, as Lee had requested). The mayor took it upon himself to invite a BBC reporter and cameraman to join us.
Jiggs, of course, would be closest to me. Though Will had cleared me for the hike, he warned me that my ankle might have the odd twinge and he arranged for Ski to pull double duty as a fellow hiker and acting corpsman just in case.
Patterson, also on my team, would be in charge of the two-way radios in the event our cell phones couldn’t work out here. In all, my team consisted of ten lucky souls, depending on one’s point of view. I didn’t count the numbers in the other teams.

It was an easy hike to begin with along the shoreline before we hit the rocks. There were big rocks, small rocks, boulders, and pebbles. Brush was also a problem, but the mud was the worst of it, squishing underneath our boots.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for me and not just because of the terrain. McDonald kept waxing on and on about his kelpie, the Loch Ness Monster, Scottish kings and warlords and the famous William Wallace or Braveheart as he is most commonly known in Scotland. The mayor was also happy to regale us with his own versions of ancient history. Jiggs and I had to feign interest. Ski and Pat didn’t have to, as they were too busy, waving their hand-held scanners from side to side in front of them. While the public believed them to be bio scanners, Lee had informed them that they were looking for holographic projectors and traces of recent use.
As Lee had suggested, or more correctly ‘ordered’, I had the group stop occasionally so I could take pictures and ‘jot down ‘notes’, actually various curse words in every language that I knew of, while Jiggs verified coordinates with me. During these lulls in the hiking, Pat and Ski collected and labeled small vials of water samples, stowing them in a zippered collection bag in Ski’s backpack..

We’d been hiking about an hour when Ski l tripped and flat on his face.
“O mo chreach!” one of the volunteers screamed as a skull, displaced by Ski’s fall stared up at us with its empty eye sockets. Also displaced was a skeletal hand and forearm wearing a gold ring, and wide dirt encrusted, green with age, copper bracelet. As Ski got up, more mud and dirt came away with him, revealing most of the long dead occupant, it’s torso laden with bronze, copper, silver, and gold necklaces and breastplate, and more armbands, gold, silver, copper, and bronze bracelets, some embedded with what looked like gemstones, some of which, despite the crusted dirt an mud, glittered in the sunlight.

“Not another one,” the mayor sighed.
“…Another one?” the reporter asked, going ‘live’ while the cameraman recorded it all.
“…Looks like a Viking burial. You can tell from the runes you can see on the bracelets. They’re Nordic. There were a lot of Viking invaders here in the olden days.”
Then he walked away a short distance in order to make a call.

“…The is the BBC,” the reporter said, “live, from Captain Nelson-Crane’s kelpie expedition, today’s hike headed by Admiral Nelson along the shoreline of Loch Ness, Scotland. One of the hikers, a crewman from the submarine Seaview, stumbled and fell into a shallow grave, which may be a Viking burial and…”
“…Sorry,” the mayor returned, interrupting, “This puts an end to today’s hike. The other teams will be informed and be returned to the Land’s End Pub. I’m afraid our team has been ordered to remain here for the police to question and…”
“…Police?”
“…Any disturbed grave must be investigated. Even a historic one. Whoever this poor fellow was, authorities need to check him out.”
“…It’s not a guy,” Ski said. “You can tell from the pelvis.”
“…Kowalski has had some medical corpsman training,” I explained
“…If I may continue?” the mayor asked, “Police forensics teams along with antiquations will be here shortly by helicopter.”
“…Will they be able to tell the cause of death?” the reporter asked.
“…That’s a stupid question,” Jiggs said, “even we can see that split above the eye socket in the skull.”
“…Actually,” Ski said, “bones can split on their own when decomposing.”
“…That was in Navy Corpsman training?” Patterson asked, curious.
“…Museum of Natural Sciences in L.A.,” Ski said, “the La Brea Tar Pits dinosaur display. It had short video about decomposition. Well, it should also apply to humans, shouldn’t it?”
Laughter.
“…Admiral,” the mayor said, “I’m sorry about having to halt today’s hike.”
“…Who cares about the damn hike?” one of the volunteers asked, “As finders, what kind of cut do we get from the treasure ‘Miss Bones’ here is wearing?”
“…I didn’t see you fall on it,” Angus said, “greedy sod. The crewman discovered it, not you.”
“We’re part of a team, so we’re entitled.”
“…Enough,” the mayor said. “Until further notice this skeleton, its accoutrements, the grave, and surrounding area, are crown property. The Scottish Treasure Trove Act is in effect. If there’s any compensation to be had, and I greatly doubt it, a percentage will belong to the crewman here whose fall uncovered it.”
“…What about it, Admiral,” the reporter asked, “if there’s compensation to your man, will you, as his employer, demand a share?”
“…That’s absurd!”
“…What do you think the captain’s opinion will be? It’s his expedition, technically, and…”
“…He’ll feel the same as I do. Kowalski discovered the grave and its contents, even if accidentally. Any percentage the country allows him, will be all his.”

I was sure Drew Ames wouldn’t welcome the rush of inquiries that no doubt the world’s press was going to beleaguer the institute with.
At least Patterson, using one of the two way radio’s had easily made contact with O’Brien about the change of plans, and taking me aside, told me that the skipper had gone to town with Jackson.
Suddenly the objectionable volunteer began to pull off one of the bracelets from the bony hand.
“You can’t do that!” the mayor yelled and the other volunteers pulled him away, handing the removed bracelets to the mayor for safe-keeping.
“It’s me kelpie!” McDonald said as he leaned over with others to look, pointing to what was visible of one of the engravings, “What do you think now, Admiral?”
”I agree it’s an engraving of what might be a kelpie yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s based on a real creature.”
A lot of boos.
“You know, Harriman,” Jiggs said, changing the subject, “some of that hot soup Cookie packed wouldn’t be amiss right now. Maybe some of those sandwiches, too.”

I was glad he’d found a fallen tree to sit on, saving me a seat while the crewmen unpacked some protein bars, trail mix, sandwiches, and the aforementioned thermoses of tomato soup.
“I’ve brought me some of me own refreshment,” Angus said, pulling out a plastic bottle from his inside jacket pocket. It was not water. Soon other members of the team were pulling out their own alcoholic beverages.
The police were certainly taking their sweet time and some of our fellow hikers were getting a little tipsy.
I was grateful when the fleet of pontoon helicopters arrived on the loch, some close by, some further away, and the police, after asking each of us what had happened, for the record, offered to fly us back to the Land’s End Pub’s parking lot, as they had already offered the other teams as well.
“What do you think about the expedition’s delay, Admiral?” the reporter then asked me.
“Well, I can’t help but to be disappointed, of course, but hopefully, we’ll be able to continue soon. I would like to add, about the unearthed skeleton, that I think we’d all do well to remember that this woman was once a living soul and no one should get so caught up gold fever that she becomes less unimportant than her jewels.”
“DNA, if viable,” the mayor said, “might verify the woman’s ethnicity and age.”
“But we know she’s a Viking,” the reporter said.
“We don’t know for certain. She could have been a captive who was taken as a concubine and highly favored. And she might even have living descendants that can be scientifically verified with so many people researching their family trees and doing DNA tests on themselves now.”
“Well, Admiral,” Angus hiccupped as he interrupted, “Will the laddie be taking over tomorrow? If the crown lets us continue so close to a historical site?”
“I’m not sure, but Seaview has reported him well enough to go into town, accompanied with Lt. Cdr. Jackson. Lee’s still suffering lingering side effects from the food poisoning. But he thought he could handle a little trip to a local car dealership in the hopes of renting an MTV or land rover to help with the expedition.”
Just then one of the police officers informed us that our team’s helicopters were ready to fly us to the pub.
About twenty minutes later, the two helicopters used for us offloaded Ski, Pat, Jiggs, Angus, the mayor, and our volunteers at a cordoned off area of the pub’s parking lot. Apparently, to the waiting press, I was already ‘old’ news considering the find of buried treasure. No pun intended.
I did, however, order a round of drinks for all of the hikers, ‘on behalf of the captain for their postponed hike, now that the pub was open for drinks. What Lee would think about my generosity taking the funds from one of his institute accounts, I could only imagine.
Since the mayor was my team’s ride home and it looked as though the festivities at the pub were in full swing, I had Pat call for a taxi, but the earliest any would be free was over an hour. So I had Pat call Seaview to inform them of the delay.
Sparks replied that the skipper’s new MTV would arrive at the pub to pick us up as soon as he and Jackson finished patching it up with duct tape.
“Duct tape?” I asked, incredulous. “The vehicle’s supposed to help, not hinder the expedition.”
“Well, the skipper liked it so much he bought it outright. Was in a movie and…”
“Never mind. I just hope it doesn’t break down on the way here.”
“The engine’s fine and the tires are okay. It’s the hovercraft part of it that has holes in it.”
“Hovercraft?” Jiggs asked, as confused as I was with the news.
“Yeah, the MTV turns into one. And guess what?” Sparks laughed, “it’s red. Needs a paint job…and a body shop to fix some of the dents and rust and….”
“How soon does he think he can get here?” I interrupted.
“That depends if you don’t want him to come back to Seaview to get cleaned up. Mr. Jackson says he’s covered in grease and oil and…”
“I don’t care what he looks like! Just tell him to get here! I’m cold, I’m tired, and I might end up paying for another round of drinks in the pub.
“You used his credit card account,” Jiggs laughed.
“Never mind that. Sparks, get him here!”
“Aye sir. Oh, any luck with the real mission before the hike got stopped?”
“No, afraid not.”
“Damn. The skip was sure hoping for something. Seaview out.”

“It may be awhile,” Jiggs said, “I think we’d better take refuge in the pub after all. Coffee’s on me.”
But coffee it wasn’t to be. The bartender looked at us as though we were heathens when we asked for some, and suggested tea. It was okay, but for the life of me I couldn’t understand why the local penchant for it.

“Ach, who knows, Viking or not, that woman might be my great-great-great and so on grandmother! Family’s been hereabouts that long or more, so me gran told us more often than not.”
“Well, you’d better get a DNA test if you want to prove it,” the bartender said.
“By now, Jiggs said, “her DNA might be corrupted too much. Still, it would be interesting and…”
“Hey, looks like we’ve got more coppers, on the way,” someone interrupted from his seat near the window. “Flashing lights and everything.”
“They’re a a rusty old MTV in the middle of them....maybe it’s the archeologists.”
“Ach, no!” Angus said, excited, “it’s the laddie!”

By the time Jiggs and I were able to squeeze through the doorway, followed by Ski and Pat, Joe was helping a very grubby Lee from the passenger’s seat. Neither were in uniform and Lee’s white cable knit sweater and blue jeans were torn and as filthy as the rest of him and Joe, in a red parka and jeans, was only a little less dirty and disheveled. Both were wearing sneakers.
“Ach, Laddie,” Angus, the first to greet Lee was saying, “what the devil have ye’ been up to?”
Lee only grinned in response, leaned wearily against the drivers side of the MTV, then saw me. “Well, what do you think of her, Harry?” he asked, excited as a kid with a new toy.

Silence in the crowd waiting to see my answer for the rusty dented excuse of a vehicle.

“She, um, well,” I began, trying to find the words. Then they came to me. “She’s red.”
“And she’s a hovercraft!” Lee said proudly, “I’ll be bringing her out onto the loch tomorrow, and then maybe even take over the rest of the hike when it continues and…”
“If your stomach behaves,” Joe interrupted, “yeah, admiral, he’s still having some problems.”
“Ach, laddie,” Angus said, “that’s odd. I be doing fine. I’ll keep on a prayin’ for ye.”
‘Aye’s and applause.
Lee gave everyone his sunshine smile and would you believe just then the sun came out from behind a cloud.
“See what I been telling all of you all along?” Angus told the crowd, “He’s anointed from on high, though why the Good Lord decided on a little detour before he finds me kelpie is beyond me.”
“Angus,” Lee said gently, lifting himself off from the vehicle, “that little ray of sunshine is just a coincidence. I’m an ordinary guy, who farts and pees and sweats and gets sick sometimes just like everyone else.”
“So you’ve said, so you’ve said. But ordinary you’re not.”
Applause and grunts of approval.
“Well, Mr. Mayor, oh, sorry, Lord Mayor,” Lee corrected himself, “when the hike resumes, we won’t need to impose on your generosity for a ride. My new baby will bring our team here.”
And with that, Lee got into the driver’s side of the MTV, patting the seat next to him for me, and Ski while Pat loaded their gear in the storage back. Jiggs, Joe, and then Pat sat behind us. There were no seat belts which was just as well as we all felt like sardines being three across.
One of the police officers approached and leaned in through Lee’s open window, “You be sure to drive on the correct side of the road from now on. I admit it must’ve been confusing for you as this is a Yank car. Might not have been a problem if it were British made with the steering wheel on the right. Good thing your friend was able to take over when we pulled you over outside of Inverness. And next time make sure you have a map of where you’re going. You think you can remember the way back?”
“Yes, Officer,” Lee said sheepishly, “sorry for all the trouble I caused you.”
“Just doin’ my job. Cheer o’.”
With a nod, he officer joined the other police officers and headed into the pub with them for a ‘cuppa’ as he called what I thought must’ve meant for a cup of tea with them and some of his friends at Land’s End.
Lee waved to the mayor, Angus, and the crowd and began to drive us out of the parking lot. It did seem a little awkward with the American vehicle.
“Don’t even say it,” Lee warned us as soon as we were on the road.
I might have managed not to ask any questions, but my lips quivered as I was unable to keep myself from laughing, from a mild chuckle to deep hearty guffaws, as Jiggs joined in. Ski and Pat managed to keep their amusement to grins. Joe, probably already laughed out, remained silent.
“You might want to reupholster it,” I finally said. “The springs are digging into my tailbone.”
“Want me to switch with you?” Joe asked.
Without waiting for me to answer, Lee pulled over to the side of the road. Ski hopped out, and helped me down, as Joe took my place, Ski scooted back in beside him and Lee started up the car again.
“I didn’t feel the springs when I was on that side,” Lee told us.
“That’s because you have a hard ass,” Joe said. “I warned you this thing was worthless.”
“It’s a hovercraft!”
“Only if the duct tape works.”
“At least it’s red,” Lee muttered.
Then Ski and Patterson began to laugh.
Lee pouted at Ski and Ski had to purse his lips to stop.
Nobody said anything for the rest of the drive. Soon Lee showed his ID to the police at the dock who waved us through. There weren’t many folks behind the barricades but there was a news truck, from which a reporter and cameraman emerged, but too late to question us as we all hurried up the gangplank. Even out of uniform, Lee saluted the colors and I could just imaging the SecNav complaining once the BBC showed the video later.
As soon as we set foot in the Control Room, Edith flung herself at me, as Emmie looked on sweetly. Mrs. C. of course, looked at Lee in disgust for having soiled his cable knit pullover.
“Anyone would think you’re my mother,” he joked as he pulled it off.
“The Boston Museum called, Harry,” Edith said, “they’re so excited about the Viking girl.”
“Staff meeting at 1600,” Lee interrupted, we’ll make it the Wardroom.”
“Aye sir,” Ski and Pat said in unison as they secured their equipment in a storage unit along one of the Observation Nose’s bulkhead.
“Er…” Jiggs hesitated.
“You’re included,” Lee said.
“Lee, all of you, ” Chip said, “you really need to go change, take your shoes and boots off here, before you trail all that grease and oil and mud all over my nice clean deck. ”
“Slave driver,” Lee said, as he pulled off his muddy sneakers, tying the laces together to carry, “and it’s ‘my’ nice clean deck now, remember?”
Emmie helped me pull off my boots and handed them to Jiggs to add with his as he headed aft. Emmie took my arm and I was so busy looking at my beautiful wife I hardly noticed my stocking feet.
As soon as we reached our cabin, she helped me to disrobe. Dumping my mud splattered clothes into the hamper, I was about to head into my shower when Emmie handed me a bar of home-made soap she must have purchased on her shopping spree.
“It’s pink,” I complained, disgusted.
“Does it smell like perfume? No. It’s an oatmeal blend, perfect for irritated skin.”
“Oh.”
“And wash your hair.”
“Yes, dear.”
“And shave.”
“Shave? I don’t have 5 o’ clock shadow yet!”
“Humor me?” she said, running a hand over my cheek. It was not a request.
“Yes, dear,” I said, and soon I was scrubbing the oatmeal soap all over myself in the shower. The problem was it didn’t suds very well. In the end I resorted to my usual. But at least I could say I tried it.
When I emerged from the head, I saw a new nightgown on the bunk.
“Not exactly your style, dear,” I told her, “but if you like it…”
“It’s not a nightgown! It’s for you. A special shirt designed to wear with a kilt. Protects you underneath.”
“You really think I’ll ever wear a kilt again? Sorry, sweetheart, return it and get your money back.”
“But it’s just like one that belonged to Bonnie Prince Charlie!”
“I don’t care if it actually belonged to him or even to Braveheart. If you can’t get your money back, donate it to a museum or something.”
“But…” she began to argue but I was saved by Lee’s voice over the intercom.
“Harry? Want to shoot the breeze with me awhile before the staff meeting? My cabin.” “Right,” I replied via the intercom, “see you in about fifteen minutes.”
“You could have given us more time together,” Emmie complained, and stomped out of the cabin.
Wearily, I changed into uniform, and was soon knocking on Lee’s door.
He opened the door himself, freshly showered and in uniform, his damp hair curling wildly.
“Look at this,” he whispered, and nodded toward the bunk, where Missy and Mallie were circling each other, backs arched, hissing,
“No blood drawn yet, at least,” Chip said, standing by. “We were hoping they’d become friends by now. Oh well.”
“Where’s Winston?” I asked.
“Joe’s exercising him on the treadmill. We figured it would be best if he weren’t here just now. Well, I think that’s about it for now, Chip. We can try to get them to tolerate each other again another time.”
Chip picked up Mallie as Missy gave her a last hiss and retreated out of the cabin.
I leaned against Lee’s desk and noticed Lee hadn’t done such a good job cleaning the oil from his fingernails.
“I know, I know,” he said at my raised eyebrow. “Sharkey’s brining me some of our goo remover. Harry, I just got word that the officials will allow the hike to resume tomorrow. Sharkey’s going to accompany you with Ski and Pat. Jiggs can go out again too if he wants. Chip and I will take the Flying Sub out. We’ll put on a good show flying and splashing down under, launch back up into the air, and fly around all over again in various areas of the loch. We’ll use our new heat sensors, x-rays, and fog zappers along with our scanners for any projection signal residue. We’ll also explore the sea lab and the fault between the loch and the river. Then we’ll….”
“Still in there?” Joe interrupted as he entered without waiting for permission. I was peeved, but Lee wasn’t as if it were the most natural thing in the world for his spook buddy to take such liberties with the captain of the boat. Winston, panting, desired an immediate tummy rub from his master. Missy could care less about Winston’s return.
“You know, bro,” Joe told Lee, “I think this dog needs a shrink. Why all the tummy rubs? It’s not like he’s got an itch to scratch or anything. How did the cat encounter go?”
“Hissing match,” Lee said, attending to his dog’s demands.
“I passed by the Wardroom. Seems Cookie’s laid out some cookies and brownies for your staff meeting. And especially strong coffee, just the way you like it.”
“Be still my heart,” Lee said with a grin. “Well, I’m game for some right now. How about you, Harry? Or do you need a little more time with Emily first?”
“She’s mad at me right now. Can you believe she bought me something looking like a nightgown? She said it’s to be worn with a kilt. She wants me to wear one again. The top even has ruffles. Ghastly.”
“Actually,” Lee sighed sheepishly, “it was my idea. Not the ruffled part. Guess they just come that way. The shirt’s long tails are supposed to protect the wearer from irritation and exposure.”
“Tell you what,” I said making a decision, “I’ll wear the damn thing with a kilt again, but only if you’ll wear a kilt too. That is if your mother brought one of yours aboard. If not, you’ll have to purchase one. And for Pete’s sake pick a Scottish Crane or Nelson tartan.”
“Actually, she did bring one. Remember this?” he asked as he pulled out the red, white, and blue ‘American’ kilt ‘kit’ from one of his bunk’s drawers. It was a complete ‘kit’, with knee highs, shoes, sporran, and ruffled shirt.
“At least your shirt’s not a nightgown.”
“Ah, well, Mom bought me one to match the one Emily bought you,” he said, pulling his from another drawer.
We laughed, and Lee, Winston at his side, Joe, and I headed to the Wardroom for a little pre meeting gorging just as Sharkey arrived with the goo remover. Lee bade us go on ahead while he retreated to the sink to clean his nails.
It was a good thing Joe saved Lee a brownie, as none were left when he joined us.
His briefing was pretty much what he’d told me, but he asked for volunteers to help him test out his MTV hovercraft pillow. There was no shortage of volunteers.
Following the briefing, Lee, Joe, Jiggs, Chip, and I enjoyed the strong black coffee. I was satisfied after two mugs and excused myself, returning to my cabin to find I wasn’t alone. Expecting another tongue lashing, I was surprised when Emmie emerged from the head, wearing a new, very seductive and almost transparent negligee.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she warned. “I’m just trying it on. The dressing rooms at the store were occupied. I like it. What do you think?”
Words weren’t necessary, and we spent the next few hours in wonderful passionate abandonment.