Day 4

Well, at least the rain stopped overnight.

Was sitting down to  my breakfast on the balcony, when I noticed that some of the small craft in the harbor were half hidden by the fog. I nearly spilled my coffee. Reminded me of how the U-444 and Seaview sailed through blankets of the stuff. Downright  Eerie. But, let’s not get into that horrible memory of Capt. Krueger just now.

As I sipped my coffee, nowhere near as good as Cookie’s or Sharkey’s, (but hey, it’s the store brand instant stuff), I wondered if I might need to get some of that fancy flavored coffee for when Agent Catfish and Edith arrive this week.

Agent Catfish is accustomed to instant coffee as she uses it herself, saying it’s just ‘too much trouble to brew some’, but if memory serves I know she does like the flavored cream mixes to go in it. I don’t even have milk in the fridge.

Edith, on the other hand, well, she’s a bit picky and has been known to lay out mega bucks for a Starbucks Maui Mokka Latte’ or some such thing. (Oops, Can I mention a brand?) Well, she’d better not think I’ll have any fancy coffee beans on hand to be brewed just for her. It’ll be instant or hot cocoa mix, so there.

I’m glad they’ll be staying at a hotel, but I suppose I should pick up around here.  I’ll admit the ashtrays haven’t been emptied lately and I  haven’t exactly cleaned the toilet in awhile.  It’s not that I’m expecting a royal visit, but I don’t want Edith telling tales about me becoming a slob. Agent Catfish would simply say that I’m a  bachelor and those things don’t matter very much.

Maybe I should ask Sharkey to make  a few sandwiches for when they come. Why I should bother for Edith, I have no idea. But Agent Catfish has always been hospitable to me so I should return the favor.

I called Jiggs, wondering if he’d like to join us when the big day comes but he’ll be ‘unavailable’ with family matters, he said. Or more likely he’s just too scared about the fireworks that are bound to fly the next time I meet Edith, or perhaps he even had some trepidation about Agent Catfish. I know she scares the pants off of me at times too. Never  scared Lee though. Of course, she always ‘mothered’ him. She never tousled my hair or fed me cookies, so I guess I’m still a bit jealous of that.

I called Chip next. I know he’s at the Pentagon, but that didn’t stop my wishful thinking. Chip, too, was ‘unavailable’, but at least he had a legitimate reason besides being so far away, what with meetings scheduled with the joint chiefs for the entire week. I did detect a slight hesitancy when we spoke, though. Almost as if he wanted to ask or tell me something, but decided against it.  In any case, he’s doing okay or so he says. Sounds awfully tired.

Then I called Jamie. When he gently asked, ‘Should I bring a sedative?’ for a moment I was surely tempted. But then I decided that perhaps asking him over for a little moral support or to referee things was too much to request of a busy doctor in private practice.

That left me with Angie, (busy- or in her words-‘hell would have to freeze over before I ever see Edith again’), Miss Hale (busy-same excuse), Miss Sweetly (Busy-Girl Scout Leader obligations all week, however, she did promise to hand deliver the cookies I bought after succumbing to her mini ‘how would you like to have some really yummy cookies which will help the girls at the same time ‘ sales pitch).

Next I tried Kowalski.  “Sure, sir, but I’ll have to clear it with Sharkey, but he might not get back from San Diego in time.”

“San Diego? What’s he doing there?” I asked.

“I’m not sure sir, but he sure was antsy, ever since we got that cease and desist order.”

“Cease and Desist? Ski? Are you still there?” I began to wonder if my phone had died.

“Sorry, sir. We got orders to stop, well, to stop talking about maybe the skipper being alive and off on assignment. “

“Ski, you know how much I’d want that to be true, but..”

“I know sir,” he continued, “anyway the order came  from the White House. We...we didn’t want upset you about it. Still doesn’t feel right about not being allowed to talk about it.”

“I don’t see how the President can order you not to,” I said, shaking my head. “How dare he? Our constitutional right to the freedom of speech was paid for in blood, and just wishing that the Skipper’s not dead is hardly cause for such an order. In fact, unless it’s a military matter or  something so top secret that it will harm national security if discovered, well, you just go on thinking and speaking to anyone who will listen that you still hope that Lee is out there, somewhere, doing his duty..”

“You still believe he’s dead though, don’t you sir,” he asked.

“I’m afraid so. But I’ll back you up as long as you want to hope he's alive, with your right to say so.”

“Well, I guess that’s what’s eating the Chief. The memo wasn’t actually signed by the President. Just a staffer with a carbon copy notation.  I’m thinking Sharkey went to the new Military Personnel Office in Diego to find out who it was. Maybe get more info.”

“Good man, I’d be interested myself. Need to have all my ducks in a row before I call the president and tell him what an S.O.B. he’s been.”

“You’d do that for us, sir?”

“Damn right I would. Well,  back to the business at hand, I’m not sure when my guests will arrive this week, so I may have to call you when they get here. If Sharkey agrees to loosing you for a few hours, that is.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem...er...would you like me to bring band aids?” he joked.

“Just your usual good humor, son,  and maybe you should wear a nice suit. Will help to distract the ladies from bashing me over the head. I have to tell you Ski, they’re a bit upset with me. The way I handled the  Seaview thing. I was pretty, well, let’s just say I haven’t been on speaking terms with Edith since...and they’re actually coming here to show me pictures.”

“Oh lord, that’s going to be a kick in the gut.”

“Indeed it will be. I’m glad you’ll be here if only to keep me from tossing my sister out on her ear. Agent Catfish is hoping for a reconciliation, at least for me to tolerate her presence, but it’s  not going to be easy.”

“No sir. Uh, the timer just dinged. I gotta’ go check on the Spaghetti. We’re having a two for one plate  special. Would you like me to bring one over? On  the house, sir. I’m sure Sharkey won’t mind.”

“Thank you Ski, I’d like that. And I have every intention of paying. And tipping, so make sure you deliver it yourself. Maybe have a beer with me.”

“I’d be glad to, sir. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Ski.”

And so, that’s  how things stand right now.

By the way, the fog lifted and the view from my balcony is that of a picture postcard. I only wish Lee were here to share the view with me.