ROCKS AND SHOALS

by M. L. Maki

  “You may kiss your bride.”

  Thud holds Abigail lightly, kissing her tenderly. Then, he picks her up and swings her around. The reverend grins, “I present Commander and Mrs. Jackson.”

  The recessional begins and Swede and Gloria walk and Swede takes his place across from Gandhi. Next, Jose and Sam walk down the aisle and Jose takes his place across from GQ. They draw their swords as Thud and Abigail start walking down the aisle. All four give her a swat on the bum.

  BOBLINGEN AIRFIELD, BOBLINGEN, GERMANY

  1310, 19 November, 1942

  Lt. Peter ‘Moses’ Moskowitz stands with the German engineers as the third prototype of the Amerika Bomber lands. Behind him are two armed guards. Heinkel says, “It flew to eighty thousand feet.”

  Moses, “But the pilots got sick.”

  “Yes. We need to improve the pressurization systems. That should be easy.”

  “Yes, sir.” To himself, Moses thinks, “No pressure suits. There’s no way this plane can descend from angels eighty to ten fast enough. One bullet through the cockpit. One crack in the canopy and they’re lost.”

  The plane rolls to a stop and they approach. Medics climb the portable stairs and lift the limp body of the pilot out. The co-pilot struggles out of the plane and sits on the stairs. Heinkel asks, “How did it fly?”

  “Steady. It turns slow, climbs slow, dives slow, but it climbs out of the sky itself. I could see the curve of the earth. The sky is black.” He looks up with bloodshot eyes, “We need to solve the pressure problem.”

  “How did you survive?”

  “I had my mask on. My pilot did not. I increased the pressurization system as high as it would go and descended as fast as I could. I think I was lucky.”

  “We will fix it. We will need to build these as fast as we can.”

  UNION STATION, WASHINGTON, DC

  1213, 20 November, 1942

  Sam, Gloria, and Swede step off the train carrying their bags. They’re in their winter khaki uniforms. Sam asks, “Where are you staying?”

  Gloria, “Not sure. We’ll get a hotel. First, we need to fetch my car. It’s in the lot at the Navy Yard. We’re going to ship it to San Diego, if we can. The Caddy stays in Michigan. Sam, when are you getting a car?”

  “If I could find what I want, I’d buy it today.”

  Gloria, “Honey, why don’t you help Sam find a car while I fetch mine?”

  Swede, “Right. Sam, I know you can do it yourself, but let me do this. Dealerships always try to rip off women. That, and they’ll assume you’re rich because you’re famous.” He touches Gloria’s hand, “See you at Lee’s house.”

  “You bet, honey. I have the address.”

  Swede and Sam find a taxi, and Sam says, “To a Packard dealership.”

  The cabbie, “Yes, ma’am, Commodore.” He watches them in the rearview mirror, but is silent.

  When they get to the dealership, they walk out onto the lot. They find the used cars. She opens the door on a 1938 Packard 12, two door coupe. “Oh, a floor shifter. I like that. I’ve never been a fan of three on the tree.”

  “Me neither. It’s all Caddy offered.” Swede opens the hood, “Clean engine. It could use a supercharger.” He grins at her, then pulls the dipstick, “Oil’s clean.” He shuts the hood and inspects the rest of the car.

  Sam looks at two little doors on the back, “I wonder what these are for?”

  “No idea. Hey, it has a rumble seat.”

  A salesman approaches, “Commodore, Commander, how may I help you?”

  Sam looks up, “I’d like to drive it.”

  He hands the keys to Sam, “I’ll sit in the rumble seat so you can talk.”

  Sam pulls out on the road and accelerates up to speed. “You might be right about the supercharger. It has about a Honda Civic power to weight. It drives nice and the brakes are good. I like it. I’ve about two grand in cash. I’ll leave the negotiations up to you.”

  “That should be doable. Will it leave you short?”

  “I’ve two paychecks I need to pick up. That’ll be over nine hundred.”

  “Okay. Let’s go back in.”

  They get back to the dealership and walk into the office with the salesman. The manager walks in, “Commodore, Commander, congratulations on your nuptials.”

  Sam starts, “What?”

  “It’s in the paper. It says you traveled to Lansing, Michigan to marry Commander Swedenborg.”

  Swede laughs, “Oh, my God. No way.”

  Sam starts laughing, “Sir, the paper is wrong. We’re not married, nor are we ever going to be.”

  “I’m sorry, I thought…the paper showed a photo of you two looking at each other at the train station.”

  Sam looks up, exasperated. “The papers get things wrong all the time.”

  “Yes, ma’am. So, I understand you like the Gentleman’s Coupe?”

  Sam, “What are the little doors on the side for?”

  “Golf clubs, or really, any luggage.”

  “Okay, my friend, Commander Swedenborg, will do the negotiating.”

  The manager looks at Swede, “Sir, I very much wish to sell the Commodore a car. What do you see as a reasonable price?”

  “Does it come with a maintenance manual?”

  “Of course.”

  “I generally don’t start with price, but I’ll make an exception. Fifteen hundred dollars.”

  “Done.” The manager offers his hand.

  Swede’s eyes open wide, then he accepts the hand, “Thank you, sir.”

  The manager offers Sam his hand, and she accepts it, “Thank you.”

  “Do you prefer a payment plan, or cash?”

  Sam, “Cash. Can you take care of registering it for me in Virginia?”

  “Yes, of course. It will only take a few minutes. I’ll throw in some ration stamps, as well.”

  “Thank you.” She looks at Swede, raising her eyebrows. An hour later, they’re on the way to Lee’s house. “I like it. I’ll think about the supercharger, but I like it as is.”

  When they get to the house, Gloria’s Invicta is parked at the curb. Sam parks by the garage. Ashley and Gloria come out, braving the cold rain. Sam hugs Ashley, “Hi, Mom. My friend, and Gloria’s husband, Stephan Swedenborg.”

  “Ma’am.” He takes her hand.

  Gloria walks around the car, “A Packard. Classy. Very nice. Let’s get inside. We need to talk.” When they get in, the go into the kitchen and Ashley serves coffee. “Did you see the papers?”

  Sam, “We heard about it. I’m not sure what to do.”

  Ashley, “We wait for Rick. He’ll know what to do.”

  An hour later, Admiral Lee walks into the house, shaking off the rain. His face lights up in a huge grin when he sees Sam, “Hello, darlin’.”

  She walks into his arms, “Hi, Dad.”

  He pushes her out to arm length, “You’ve put on some weight. Good.”

  Sam laughs, “Yeah, Margaret said she’d feed me up. And she did.”

  Rick pats his stomach, “I’ve got to get back into shape. I’m still doing flights on the new planes. Is the Packard yours?”

  “It is. Dad, what’s the plan?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon, we have a meeting with Major Pettigrew. Your bird has received a major overhaul. After that meeting, we head up to New York.”

  “Who’s my crew chief?”

  “Bobby Geller. He insisted. Cooper will be your yeoman. The C-130 support bird will be flown by Lieutenant Barbara Wright and Ensign Patricia Lord. By default, Wright will be your XO.”

  “He isn’t planning to drag Wright and Lord onto the stage, too?”

  “No, just you. You’ll also have ten Marines for security led by a staff sergeant.”

  “Okay. I want all the ground crew weapons trained.”

  “We still have time. What are you thinking?”

  “After England, every sailor under my command will always have weapons training. It’s insurance for the future.”<
br />
  “No problem. Your mail and pay checks are on your bed. By the way, Chaos is in Hawaii.”

  “What? How? He ejected over Tokyo.”

  “I know. He hitched a ride home on a submarine. That is one clever lad.”

  Ashley, “Dinners ready.”

  Sam, “We need to talk about the press. They have Swede and I married. What do we do?”

  Lee looks around at everyone, “Nothing. Right now, we do nothing. I need to think this through.”

  CHAPTER 21

  TREASURY BUILDING, WASHINGTON, DC

  1700, 20 November, 1942

  Quincy Diggs walks into Pettigrew’s small office, “Might I have a word?”

  “Of course.”

  “So, is all in preparedness for the Hunt bond tour?”

  “Nearly. Her jet is ready. The venues are planned and the first three are scheduled.”

  “May I see?”

  Pettigrew shrugs and hands him a paper. Diggs gives it a quick glance, folds it, and puts it in his pocket. “Has she given you any problems?”

  “She expects to be in charge. The plain issue is, she outranks me. If I were a colonel, it would be better. Hell, as a lieutenant colonel I could boss her around.”

  Diggs shakes his head, “She seems head strong to me. A woman like her needs a firm grip. They don’t respect politeness.”

  Pettigrew smiles, “You’re right. They don’t.”

  Diggs, “What you need is an angle. You need to find a secret, some kind of inappropriate behavior, something that would give you an advantage over her. Make her easy to control.”

  “Do you know anything?”

  Diggs shakes his head, “No, but there must be something. There must be something that will ruin her pristine reputation. Find that and you’ll have the leverage you need. Played right, this could lift you up. Who knows, it might land you in that director or producer job you want, instead of babysitting prima donnas.”

  Pettigrew’s face lights up, “Yeah, that would be nice.”

  “You know, the stupid thing about putting women into the military, into combat, is all it takes is a handsome man and they’re out of business.”

  “True. But I don’t think she’s reckless enough to get pregnant. Anyway, she’s such a cold bitch, who’d want her?”

  “That’s for sure. There must be someone out there who’d solve our little problem, who would want to bed her. Oh well, you’ll probably not have any problems. I understand you’re pretty good at this babysitting thing.”

  Pettigrew huffs, “She’s no different from a starlet. Say something nice, flash a little money, and convince them you have power, and they’ll spread their legs and beg to be ravished. Women are that predictable.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve been doing this for a while.”

  “Well, I’ll leave it to you. Good evening.

  NAVAL AIR OFFICE, NAVY YARD, WASHINGTON, DC

  0825, 21 November, 1942

  Sam, wearing aviation greens, walks into Lee’s outer office. An older woman looks up, “Commander, the admiral is expecting you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I understand that you prefer tea.”

  “If it isn’t too much bother, yes.” She walks into Lee’s office.

  He looks up from a drafting table covered with technical drawings, “Hey, honey.” He gets up to give her a hug.

  Sam, “You wanted to talk?”

  “Do you remember what we did when the story broke about you being Amelia Earhart?”

  “Yes, you set up the interview with Hemingway.”

  “But not right away. The problem with this kind of story is that denial makes them stronger. We did nothing until the Earhart family went to their congressman to demand the release of their daughter. I understand why Swede and Gloria want to keep it quiet, but their silence is going to weigh on you. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it last night.”

  “Dad, when big Navy finds out about their marriage, her career is over.”

  “Darling, for the most part, I am big Navy. I’m okay with leaving it alone. If a reporter gains access to their marriage certificate, he’ll bust it wide open. Only if it goes public, will I have to do something. Until then, I say, and do, nothing.”

  “Dad, if you have to pull one of them from sea duty, pull Swede. He’d be furious if his career is held as more important than hers.”

  “That sounds like him. Can you handle this?”

  “Yeah. I can deal with it. I just needed to know the official line.”

  His phone rings and he picks it up, “Yes?” He listens for a moment, “Send him in.”

  The door opens and Lee’s secretary escorts Major Pettigrew into the office. Lee and Spike shake his hand. Pettigrew hands them a paper. “This is the revised schedule.”

  Spike studies it, “How late will the after-show events last?”

  “They vary. Most will last well into the night.”

  “So, you want me to fly from here to New York, put on a show, land and do the after show, then get up early in the morning to fly the air show at Philly. Then, have another late night after that air show, get up early, again, and repeat. When do I sleep?”

  “We’re setting up nice hotels in each city.”

  “I didn’t ask where, I asked when. I need eight hours of shut eye a night.”

  “Commodore, you didn’t get eight hours every night in England.”

  “Are you nuts? That was combat and we were tired all the time. You have no idea how draining this will be. I do. So, eight hours a night. Any less is a violation of Navy regulations. I need to be sharp. I’ll be flying over cities and towns. There can be no mistakes. Another thing, if I’m flying the next day, no alcohol.”

  “That’s not a problem. I can arrange to have you in bed early enough to make the schedule.”

  Spike looks at him, “I’m a commander, not a commodore.”

  Pettigrew looks confused, “I don’t understand.”

  Lee smiles, “She’s no longer a commodore. It was a positional rank. It went away when she turned over her command. So, commander.”

  Pettigrew, “Make her a commodore. The people are expecting it.”

  Lee, “No. It can’t be done. If you think it’s that important, take it up with congress. They make those decisions.”

  “Can’t you make her a temporary commodore?

  Lee looks at Spike. She holds his gaze, “No, absolutely not. If I’m given a permanent star, I’ll proudly wear it. No more temporary ranks.”

  Pettigrew turns to her, “If you’re ordered to put it on, you will put it on.”

  Spike frowns, “The Army can’t promote Navy personnel.”

  Lee, “It’s off the table, Major. Now, how solid are your show dates?”

  “Very well. We’ve already advertised the first three. We’re setting up to announce the rest.”

  “Commander Hunt gets a second night of sleep after the first three shows. After those, she gets another night asleep after every two shows and that becomes a day. This will allow the crew to keep up with maintenance and safety. Also, they all get Christmas off.”

  Pettigrew frowns, “Yes, sir. I’ll adjust the schedule. We weren’t planning a Christmas show.”

  Spike is reading the second page, “Break the speed of sound. Are you nuts? I’ll plan the maneuvers and I will not break the speed of sound for any show. That would shatter windows for miles around.”

  Pettigrew, “Yes, you will. You can’t shatter windows just by flying fast.”

  Lee, “She’s right. She’ll fly at point nine five, but that’s the limit.”

  “But the President wants it to be supersonic.”

  Lee, “I’ll explain it to him.”

  Spike, “Okay, next thing. Chief Cooper will be my backseat.”

  Pettigrew, “Not your regular back seat guy?”

  Spike turns on him, “He has a war to fight. A war I should be fighting, but I have to do this ra-ra th
ing. It’ll be Cooper. At least I can count on him to not eject us by accident.”

  Lee grins, “Major, all air show maneuvers will be designed by Commander Hunt, and approved by me. No unapproved deviations.”

  Pettigrew sighs, “Yes, sir.”

  Lee, “I think we’re done here. Thank you, Major.” Pettigrew shakes their hands and leaves. Lee smiles at her, “I hope he doesn’t try pushing a temporary promotion on you. He can, but I don’t think it will fly.”

  Spike tightens her lips, “Dad, if I’m ordered to put on another temporary star for this dog and pony show knowing that it will just be taken away, I’ll resign my commission and go home. They can shove their star up their collective asses. I will not be shit on again, period.”

  “I’ll not ask it of you. As I said, it’s off the table.”

  “Okay. Well, I need to update my uniforms and buy another dress. Liz wrote Gloria and I with the color.”

  Lee smiles, “Ask Ashley. She knows the best places. Honey, you know I’m sorry about what happened.”

  “I know, Dad. But it was awful. I don’t blame you. I just don’t want to repeat the experience. If I knew what was going to happen, I’d have given the star to Swede. He would have been able to keep it. He wouldn’t have been disrespected.”

  Lee closes his eyes and sighs, “The last thing in the world I want is to ever hurt you, yet, I’ve participated in hurting you just the same.”

  “Dad, I’ll get better. Just…I feel I’m being sidelined for an irrelevant assignment just because I’m a woman. I’ve been passed over for promotion because I’m a woman.” She brightens, “You know, the British appreciate me and they’re opening the RAF to women.”

  “Please don’t. I understand why, but please don’t. I’ll make this right.”

  “Okay, Dad.” She takes a deep breath, “I need to go shopping.” She gives him a hug.

  BOBLINGEN AIRFIELD, BOBLINGEN, GERMANY

  1710, 21 November, 1942

  Moses stands on the stairs next to the rear cockpit of an Albatross bomber. He’s holding a light for Heinkel. Heinkel has removed the seat and is head down in the cockpit examining the pressure cabins seams. “Peter, please move the light forward.”