“No, ma’am.” Leo stuck to one of four acceptable responses for plebes.
“I thought you said you wanted to be here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Remember that, then. Not much longer now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She broke off, and Leo trudged forward.
The longer this punishment lasted, the more the images of his father flooded Leo’s mind. He remembered happier times, when CS had embraced him after record-setting swims. Though always slightly afraid and in awe of his father, in those moments, enveloped in his strong arms, Leo felt safety and acceptance like none other. Father and son would huddle together, carefully analyzing Leo’s stroke rate and technique, while his mother looked on.
As the minutes ticked by, Leo also recalled the whippings and later the beatings. Because he strived so hard to please his father, he’d been physically punished probably fewer than fifteen times. But each of those frightening episodes was etched into his memory and branded into his flesh.
When finally the marching was over, Leo stood at attention on T-court, facing his company commander. They’d just returned from the small arms storage unit, where he’d handed over his rifle with a huge sigh of relief. He never wanted to see or hold the damn thing again. He’d hoped Las Vegas would let him go sleep, but there was no such luck. His shoulders drooped as she ordered him back outside.
“Have you learned your lesson, Midshipman Scott?” she asked, eyes stern.
“Yes, ma’am.” He barely had the energy to speak.
“Good. I’ve been a big supporter of yours, but if you lay a hand on one of my staff again, I’ll be the first to deep six your butt.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She waited a beat. “I did a little research on you while you were marching.”
Fear shot through him.
“I talked to Whiskey about your altercation,” she continued.
“Then I did some checking around. It seems your father, Commander James Scott, was disciplined for child abuse three months ago. Around that same time, you were admitted to the hospital for major surgery.” Startled, Leo willed himself to stay silent.
“You’re wondering how I found this out, huh? You’re not the only one with an overbearing Navy father, Mr. Scott. Captain Dr. Ray Nevington’s stationed in Afghanistan right now, and he helped me do some investigative work. Your father’s suspension’s a matter of public record, but a physician also has access to Tri-Care insurance records. My father found the insurance claim from the Naval Hospital in your name.”
The deep hopelessness and the knowledge that he’d ever escape his father’s influence once again struck him. Now his company commander knew his disgraceful history.
Hot tears welled up. Lacking the energy to fight them, he felt them spill down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said softly.
She seemed flummoxed.
Looking away, he said, “I deserved it.”
“You deserved what?”
“The punishment. I, um — ” He swallowed. “I got my girlfriend pregnant.”
She gasped. “Was that bracelet for…for your baby? Are you a father?”
“No, ma’am.” Leo sniffed. “My girlfriend miscarried.” The company commander seemed to struggle for something to say.
Tears cascaded down Leo’s face. “The bracelet was a gift from my girlfriend. I put her through complete hell, and still she gave me a gift. It was a promise, for the future. Mr. Sour ordered me to destroy the bracelet, ma’am. I’m sorry…I’m sorry, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t follow his order, ma’am.”
She stayed silent for some time. “That’s an awful story, Mr. Scott.
I’m not sure the average person would’ve reacted any different. I’m not sure the average person could turn the other cheek when he saw something so precious being destroyed. But a Navy sailor is not your average person.”
She took a deep breath. “If you want to stay in the Navy, you’ll need to control yourself much better than that. I don’t care what you’ve learned in your family. The Navy is your family now, and you’ll have to learn how to manage without lashing out. We’ll train you, and Lt. Keaton believes you need counseling to help you learn as well. But this is on your shoulders now. It’s up to you whether you’ll embrace the training and counseling and become an officer worthy of the uniform.”
Leo felt a fire light in his belly. He wanted to be self-disciplined.
He wanted to be an officer. And he was determined not to let CS stand in his way. “I’ll do everything I can to learn from the training and counseling, ma’am.”
“Good. It won’t be easy, but nothing worthy is ever easy. Lucky for you, it starts right now. Dr. Hansen has an opening at fifteen hundred. Let’s go.”
Leo gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”
She directed him forward, and he once again felt shooting pains from his blistered feet. He’d just completed the Million Blister March.
Leo took a deep breath as they neared Bancroft, setting his jaw with determination. He’d already shed tears once today. That was enough.
As he worked through a mound of paperwork in the waiting room, Leo could feel tension radiate from his shoulder blades. His father’s disparaging view of therapy, not to mention his own tendency toward privacy, made him skeptical of the whole process. He just wanted to get it over with.
After being escorted to the psychologist’s office, Leo was even more uneasy when a blond woman resembling his mother greeted him.
She returned his salute then pointed to the sofa. “Let’s dispense with the formalities. Have a seat, Leo.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hobbled over and sank into the cushions.
“Welcome, Leo. I’m Lt. Commander Dr. Ina Hansen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He liked how she called him by his first name. He hadn’t heard it in a while.
“I’m a counseling psychologist, and I’ve been at the Academy for eight years now. Let’s go over a few things before we get started.” She referred to a paper inside the chart on her lap. “You signed this informed consent, and I’d like to highlight the information about confidentiality. What we discuss in here is private unless you’re in immediate danger of harming yourself or others, or if minors or impaired persons are being abused. I also need to share your attendance, progress, and fitness for duty with your CO. Any questions so far?”
Leo’s eyes glazed over. “No, ma’am.”
“Are you paying attention, Leo? This is the only time I’ll review this information.”
He sat up straighter. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What I’d like to do today is get to know you a little better, talk about what brought you in, get some background information about you.” She glanced down at his intake paperwork and made a few notes. “Oh, joy — you’re ordered to attend counseling.” Her eyes met his. “Mandated referrals are soooo fun. Midshipmen just love to use their free time talkin’ to me.” He decided to risk sarcasm. “Free time, ma’am?”
“Oh, right. No free time in plebe-land.” Leo was amazed to find himself smiling.
“Have you ever been in counseling before?” Leo paused. No way he’d reveal his brief stint in drug rehab, but he didn’t want to lie either. “Do I have to answer that, ma’am?” She scribbled something.
“No, Leo. Let me tell you how it works. Although I’m your superior, I’d like you to drop the ‘ma’am’ as it’ll get old for both of us real fast. Call me Ina. I need you to talk freely in here, and I need you to be truthful. This is probably the only place on the Yard where you won’t get in trouble for voicing your opinion or not knowing the right answer.”
Leo nodded. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Can you tell me why you’re ordered to meet with me?” He squirmed. “I punched my squad leader, ma’am.”
“You punched a firstie? Then they sent you to counseling?”
“After a twenty-four hour march, yes, ma’am.”
“Twenty-four hours?” S
he gaped. “In a row?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“When did this punishment end?”
“About thirty minutes ago.”
“I’m impressed you’re still functioning at this point. Now I get why you were limping.” She rose to leave. “Stay seated.” Left alone, Leo’s eyes traveled around the space, taking in the warm yellow paint, an overstuffed bookshelf, and a side table with a few toys and a candy bowl. Lust for her chocolates consumed him, but it would be too bold to take one, he was sure. Leo looked closer at the toys and snickered to see a little foam Eric Cartman. What was a lieutenant commander doing with a South Park toy?
Ina returned, and Leo’s reflexes pulled him painfully to his feet.
“I said stay seated.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She had a plastic container in her arms. When she kneeled and set it at his feet, soapy water splashed around inside.
Extracting a first aid kit from under the side table, Ina ordered,
“Take off your shoes and socks.”
Leo hesitated. “No, ma’am, you don’t want to see this.”
“Your feet are a valuable commodity as a plebe. If you can’t walk or run, you’re screwed. Shoes and socks off, now.” Leo sighed. Not only did she look a little like his mother, she could be a total nag too. He untied his shoelaces and removed his shoes before gingerly unrolling his socks. Caked-on blood stuck them to his skin. Once his feet were free, Leo stared at the bloody mess.
“Go ahead,” Ina encouraged. “Give ’em a good soak.” He procrastinated, knowing pain awaited him.
She reached forward to help, but he blocked her. “No,” he said.
“I’ll do it.”
Leo gasped as the warm water stung his raw, exposed skin. His nose burned, but he fought off tears, and after a few minutes the tension drained from his shoulders as the water began to soothe.
“Who did this to you?” Ina asked. “I mean, who ordered the march?”
“Lt. Keaton ordered the Million Blister March, ma’am.” She grinned. “She’s rather new here. She’s the officer for Second Company?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So, what made you attend the Academy?” She returned to her seat.
“My father.”
Ina tilted her head. “I didn’t ask who — I asked what. You had no choice in the matter?”
“Actually, I did have a choice. I missed out on a swimming scholarship at FSU, and it would’ve been expensive to go there, but I could’ve forced my family into major debt. I guess I kinda wanted to test myself here, to be honest.”
“I’m a big fan of honesty, Leo. You’re from Florida?” He nodded.
“What part?”
Leo stared her down. If he told her he lived in Pensacola, she might know he came from a Navy family. She could probably find out anyway, but he felt overexposed as it was.
“I think I’m good here.” He lifted his feet from the water and placed them on a towel she’d laid out.
Ina scribbled again in his chart, and he wondered what she was writing . Then she got out of her chair and kneeled down again, pulling some bandages from the first aid kit.
“That’s okay, ma’am. I can do this.”
“You’re just like my sons — ‘I can do it myself!’ We only have an hour, and judging by all those blisters, this job will take two of us.” Leo surrendered and allowed her to help him apply antibacterial cream and cover each blister with a bandage. Since he was spleenless, the cream was probably an especially good idea. He was touched a superior officer would help him like this.
“You have sons, ma’am?” he asked as they worked.
“Twin thirteen-year-olds.”
Leo smiled, things clicking into place. “They like South Park, huh?”
She chuckled. “That’s their favorite show. So, back to you, sounds like you’re on the swim team here. What do you like about swimming?” Fastening a Band-Aid to his toe, Leo pictured the high school pool. “So much. It’s an individual sport. It’s all on me — the victories, the defeats. I love how hard it is…Not everyone’s willing to wake up before zero-five-hundred, and only the strongest can make it. It’s also cool how soothing and refreshing the water is. It’s like another world where you can’t hear a thing; you’re just alone in your thoughts.
And to swim fast, you can’t fight the water. You have to flow with it, feel it, surrender to it.”
“You make me want to head to the pool right now, Leo!” He blushed.
As they finished fixing his feet, she handed him some antibacterial hand gel. Leo heard a loud rumble.
“Was that your stomach?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tell me they gave you some food during the Million Blister March.”
Leo lowered his head. “No, ma’am.”
She stood up. “I swear,” she muttered, opening a desk drawer.
Ina dropped a nutrition bar into his hands.
“That’s okay, ma’am. Evening chow’s in only two hours.” He tried to give the bar back.
“Leo, eat. Our sessions are important, and I want you to be focused. You can hardly concentrate if you haven’t eaten all day.”
He must have scarfed it down in seconds, and before he knew it she’d handed him another bar and a bottle of water. Her compassion almost made him cry.
After he finished his snack, Ina resumed her questions. “Have you ever gotten in trouble for fighting before, Leo?” He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am…once in high school I punched a guy.”
“What happened?”
Leo looked down. “I got suspended for a week.”
“Wow. Your parents must’ve been pretty upset.” His eyes widened and his cheeks burned, but he didn’t say a word.
Her voice was gentle. “Where’d you learn to hit, Leo?”
It was then he started crying.
In a daze, Leo stumbled toward his dorm room after therapy.
Fortunately by the time his pathetic tears had started, there’d only been a few minutes left in the session. He’d been too upset to answer her questions, so Dr. Ina had just given him a little speech about the consequences of violence. How could he have let his guard down? It would never happen again.
Sleep. He needed sleep. He’d been awake about forty hours straight now, plus the marching, and he maintained a single focus on getting to bed as fast as possible. Unfortunately, Mr. Sour was waiting for him.
Leo wearily snapped to attention. When Whiskey stepped behind him to close the door, sealing them both inside, Leo’s stomach dropped.
“How was that twenty-four-hour march?”
“Fine, sir.” Leo noticed some swelling on Mr. Sour’s lower lip and a bruise along his jaw. He felt the heat of his superior’s glare and wondered what he was waiting for.
“What should I do with you now, Midshipman Scott?”
“I suppose you should teach me a lesson, sir.”
“And how should I do that?”
Leo gulped, trying to be brave. “You should beat the living hell out of me, sir.”
“I should. But Ms. Nevington warned me that if she sees one bruise on that pretty face of yours, she’l report me to the lieutenant.”
“There are ways to hide bruises, sir.”
“Aw, crap, Scott. You say something like that, and there’s no way I can hit you. She told me about your dad, you know.” Leo’s eyes closed. Would the entire freaking company find out his father put him in the hospital?
Sour bit his lip. “I, uh, also heard about the bracelet, and the, um, pregnancy. Don’t worry — only Vegas and I know. I want to apologize for my behavior,” he added, sounding well-rehearsed.
A firstie apologizing to a plebe? It was unheard of.
“Nevington told me I should apologize for destroying that baby bracelet. I thought no way. But then at practice Coach asked me where I got that bruise, and I had to tell him about you.” Sour’s mouth tightened. “Coach said I should want a teammate who’s faster than me
because that’ll make me better. I thought about it, and I suppose he’s right.”
Pausing, Sour met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Midshipman Scott.” Leo had no idea what to do. He was supposed to receive punishment, not apologies. Then he remembered what Dr. Ina had encouraged him to say. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Go ahead.”
“I have something to say to you as well, sir. My psychologist, Dr. Hansen, she told me to ask you something.” Leo cleared his throat.
“How’d my punch affect you, sir?”
“Huh?”
“Um, how were you affected by my violence, sir?”
“I’m fine. I’m furious with you, and you better not try that crap again, but I’m okay now.”
“She said that’s how you’d respond, but I’m supposed to face the consequences of my violence. Dr. Hansen said I need empathy for the effects of my actions on others.”
“She’s some weird shrink, huh?”
“Yes, sir. Did it hurt, sir?”
Whiskey looked uneasy. “Well, yeah, it did hurt,” he said after a moment. “My jaw’s been aching since yesterday, and I couldn’t sleep much last night. Vegas and Coach are questioning my leadership ability since I almost lost control and hit you back. And the other firsties are giving me crap for getting hit by a lowly plebe.” His voice grew more incensed.
“I’m sorry, sir. I truly am,” Leo said.
Sour continued to fume.
“You sure you don’t want to hit me, sir?”
“It’s tempting.” He took a deep breath. “You do realize I’ll to ride you the entire year for this, don’t you, Scott?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Drop and give me fifty!”
Leo willed himself through fifty pushups, his body teetering on the brink of exhaustion. Finally Mr. Sour left him alone, and he curled up on his rack for forty-five minutes of sleep before evening chow.
57. The Ring
Jason rolled over and sprawled out on the pale green sheets of Cam’s bed.
Her head rested on the crook of her arm, and she trailed her fingers across his chest. “I can tell you’ve been hitting the gym hard, babe,” she cooed. “You’re my hunk of man love.” Jason shivered and gave her a lazy smile. “Are you from Pearl Harbor, baby? ’Cause you’re da bomb.” She groaned. “That was your pick-up line our senior year!”
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