“Shit.”
The doorbell rang. Nancy squinted dark eyes and tried to focus on the front door. She couldn’t. When she tried to stand up, she fell down. “Oh damn.”
She heard the door open.
“No, no, don’t come in.” she shouted, but the words were slurred and she wasn’t sure that she heard what she thought she said.
“Oh, fuck, company.”
Maria Fernandez had found the door unlocked and pushed it open just a little. She looked in and called.
“Hey, Nancy, anybody home? You missed our lunch. Thought you might be gone or something.”
Maria headed into the living room with Milly right behind her.
Nancy tried to sit up where she had fallen on the floor, but after getting halfway up, she fell again, this time with her face in the pool of vomit soaking into the floor.
“Oh, shit,” Nancy said. “Don’t come in. I ain’t dressed for polite company.”
That’s what Nancy thought she said. It came out a series of sounds and half words and other words slurred together.
“Work time,” Maria said, peeling out of the light blazer she had worn. She put it on the back of the couch and lifted Nancy up so she could lean against the couch. “Washcloth and towel and some clothes,” Maria said.
Milly hurried to the bathroom and brought back a warm, wet washcloth and a towel. She vanished into the bedroom and came back with a blouse and a pair of matching pants.
It took them twenty minutes to get Nancy on the couch, washed up, and into her clothes. Milly cleaned the rug, dumped the rest of the whisky out in the sink, and trashed the bottle. She put on some strong coffee and let it perk.
As they watched, Nancy slumped over and either passed out or fell asleep on the couch. Maria covered her with a light blanket and put a pillow under her head.
“We’re a day too late,” Maria said. “The men have been gone only a week. It may be a long trip for them. I had an e-mail from Miguel last night. He said they were on a carrier in the East China Sea below Japan waiting to see what happens. Evidently, they are worried about China.”
“I’ll take the kids to my place,” Milly said. “I live closer to the school than you do. That way I can still get to work. You get Nancy at your place. Do you have room?”
“Plenty. I’ll just put Linda on the couch. Now, when she wakes up, how do we convince her to split up her family?”
“No idea, but we have to try. She hasn’t gone off this way since that last suicide try and her stay at the hospital. Here the men have been gone only a week. It could be a long deployment for the home folks.”
Maria frowned and began cleaning up the house. It wasn’t that bad but did show signs of neglect.
“Milly, you get back to work. I’ll handle the negotiations. Come back over here… no call me when you get off work. I should have Nancy convinced to come to my place by then. You missed enough work as it is.”
“Sure you’ll be okay?”
“Oh yes, I had a father who tried this same routine about twice a year. I know the drill.”
When Nancy woke up three hours later, the house was clean, the kitchen spotless, the dishes done, and a load of wash in the dryer.
“Oh, God did I fuck up.” Nancy moaned the words. “Headache.” Maria brought her three ibuprofen and a glass of water.
“Just a small drink to get me back in the water?” Nancy asked. She shook her head when Maria did. She sat up on the couch and grabbed her head. “Oh, damn, I tell myself never again.” She blinked and looked at the room. “You cleaned up after me. I owe you, big time.”
Nancy started to stand, then sank back on the couch. “Hear when the guys are coming home?”
“Nothing yet,” Maria said. “They’ve only been gone a week.”
“Hell, I know that,” Nancy shouted, then stopped and tears burst out and she cried. Maria sat beside her, put her arm around her, and held her tightly.
“It’s all right, Nancy. We all go through these spells. Just let us help you get over this one. I want you to stay at my place tonight. The kids can stay with Milly.”
“No. We all stay here together. A family. We’re a God-damned family, and we stay that way.” The words came out angry, flat, and cruel, intending to leave no doubt.
“Nancy, I know about drinking. My father. I know you could use some help right now. I want to help. I don’t want to be pushy or get in your face, but come on, don’t you think you could use some support about now?”
“Hell yes, and fuck no.” Nancy’s eyes were steel balls inside a steel shell. “I know exactly what I am and that sometimes it takes over and I can’t stop it. Hell yes, I know that. Damn right I have to fight it. But it’s my fight. If I can’t win it, then I don’t deserve the great family I have. Have you looked at Helen lately? What a gem, what a wonderful young lady. Going to be fifteen in a month. A beauty, a real beauty and I don’t know where she got it. Glistening dark hair, eyes you can drown in, and a smile that lights up the whole damn countryside. And Charlie, he’s a go-getter. Already he knows twenty times as much about computers as Will or I do. He spends some time with them, but he’s working on programming, not watching porno channels. Sure I know what I have here. Damn right I’m fighting to keep it.”
Later, Maria came in the living room and shook her head. She had made a search in the usual hiding spots but couldn’t find a single bottle of booze. It was here, she just hadn’t found it.
“I’ve got to get back home before the kids come home, Nancy,” Maria said. “Be all right if I stop by on my way home? Tell you what. You invite me to dinner tonight, and I’ll have you and the kids to my place for barbecue tomorrow night, deal?”
Nancy looked at her a long time. “Mean me cook dinner for us and you?”
“Sure. You’re a good cook. I’ve had a taste of your work before, remember?”
“Yeah.” She almost threw up both hands. “Okay,” the emphasis was on the last part of the word showing her absolute frustration.
“Good. I’ll call you later. See you about six thirty.” Maria turned but she wasn’t ready to leave yet.
Maria fussed around the living room, straightening curtains and pictures, picking up things in the wrong places.
Nancy stood and put her fists on her hips. “Maria, you are a good person and trying to help, but you have no fucking idea the kind of hell I’ve been going through. Yes, I worry myself sick about Will. He’s almost thirty-eight years old. How do they expect him to keep up with those muscle-bound twenty-two-year-olds? In the SEALs if you don’t keep up, you can die. I know that damn well. Now they are out there somewhere, and people will be shooting at them, and they may get messed up in a real war, and then won’t that be just ducky.”
“That’s why I’m here, Nancy. We all worry about our men. There are three of us, that’s more than in most SEAL outfits. I worry every day Miguel is gone. I used to lose ten pounds when he was on a mission. I’m getting better, now I only lose five pounds. When I worry I don’t eat so well. All I’m saying is you’re not alone in this. Milly and I and Ardith are all around to help. Ardith isn’t here much, but when she is, she’s a good strong person.”
Nancy waved her arms in the air and paced around the room. She scowled at Maria and then did another round of the living room. When she stopped she turned to Maria. “Look, I’m sorry I get so bitchy. I know all this shit you’re talking. Know it by fucking heart. I also swear a lot when I’m frustrated and angry and feeling sorry for myself. Don’t pay it any attention.” Nancy flopped down on the couch. “Maybe I should just lay down and take something so I never wake up.”
“Sure, and leave the kids with all the problems that would cause? Do you think that Helen could suffer through that and not be traumatized for life?”
“Shit, oh damn. Never thought of that. Won’t do that to my Helen, to my baby.” Nancy threw one arm over her face and began to cry.
Maria stayed with Nancy until almost three, then hurried home to be
there when the kids got out of school. She made it a point always to be there. The kids deserved it.
* * *
Just at 6:30, Maria rang the bell at the Fernandez apartment. Nobody came. She rang again. This time after a wait, someone came to the door and peered out through the glass. Then the door opened a crack.
Helen looked out. Maria saw the tear stains on her cheeks.
“Mom isn’t feeling well, and she said we should do dinner another day.”
“Your mother isn’t feeling well? Helen, are you sure? Let me talk to her.”
“No, no, Mom said you shouldn’t come in.”
“Helen, do you want some help? Did your mother find another bottle after we left?”
Helen didn’t answer. Tears came again, sliding down soft perfect cheeks. The sobs came a moment later. Maria edged the door inward and Helen let go of it. A moment later Helen fell into Maria’s arms.
“Helen, don’t worry. Your mom will be fine again. This is a sickness, drinking too much is a disease. You know about it. You have to remember that. There are ways to cure people and we’re going to try to help your mother get well again. We’re going to want you to help us.”
The sobbing stopped. Maria eased away from the young girl and lifted her chin. “Look, young lady. I’m going to need you to help me. Did your mother start anything cooking?”
“No.”
“Good. You go to the market at the end of the block and bring back four frozen dinners. Here’s some cash to cover it. And get something for desert. Ice cream maybe. Now run along, and I’ll take care of your mother.”
Nancy looked up and snorted when Maria came into the living room. She lay on the couch. The bottle she held was over half empty and the bowl of ice cubes had melted down to a lone survivor. A glass lay on its side on the coffee table.
“So Florence Nightingale, the Salvation Army lass has returned to save the drunken bitch from her own vomit… again, and again, and fucking again.”
“We’re having dinner, remember? Helen went to the market shopping and then we zap them in the microwave. Now before she gets back, how about a shower?”
“No shower.”
“Yes, shower. It will perk you up, dry you out a little and might even make you a little hungry. Come on. No objections. They are all overruled and countermanded and shot to hell. On your feet, girl, move it.”
The last two sentences had the snap of a top sergeant ordering around his Marines. Not exactly understanding why, Nancy sat up, then stood on shaky feet and caught Maria’s hand as they walked toward the bedroom and the shower.
The shower helped. Maria just being there helped. By the time the shower was over and Nancy dressed, Helen was back with the frozen dinners. Nancy had her choice from the four dinners. She took the barbecued steak strips.
Helen called Charlie out of the den. He carried a sheet of white paper with a short message on it.
“Got an e-mail from Dad,” Charlie said. Nancy grabbed it out of his hand and read it. She sat down and the edges of a smile touched her face, fought with the frown and won until the smile bathed her whole face.
“He’s back on an aircraft carrier somewhere south of Japan and the first mission is over and only one man got wounded and he’s recovering. He says they don’t know how long they will be on the carrier, but it’s like a mini-vacation. They’ll do a little training but not room to do much, and twenty-mile hikes are definitely out. He says he loves us and misses us and hopes they will be sent home soon.”
Nancy Dobler sat down at her place at the table and ate every scrap of the frozen dinner. Then she served the group desert, ice cream sundaes with three kinds of toppings, whipped cream, nuts, and a maraschino cherry.
Nancy smiled and almost glowed. “Hey kids, your dad is fine, he’s well, and he thinks they might be coming home soon. Isn’t that great!”
6
East China Sea
John C. Stennis, CVN 74
Howie Anderson had stripped down for his workout in the weight room on the carrier. He had been onboard for two days and this was his first time in the gym. It was adequate. He wore only a pair of shorts and sneakers.
He had warmed up for twenty minutes on the treadmill at near the maximum, now he worked his quads. He was at the bar again and felt his muscles tighten. Four. His muscles were on fire. He strained and moved it slowly. Five. He powered hard to get the last inch, then dropped his feet again and came back up, muscles screaming with fatigue. He bleated in pain and shut his eyes as he willed his legs to come up. They did, a half inch, then another half inch to the max. Six. He dropped his feet and started again. The burn was tremendous, but he couldn’t stop. He needed one more inch. His legs felt like they were burning in a furnace. One more inch. No, he failed. He always pushed himself to total muscle failure. That way he knew he had gone to the max.
He toweled off and slumped on the bench, too tired to move. Somebody sat across from him. As the pain eased he looked up and saw a woman in a sports bra and shorts. She was nicely put together. Good boobs. Her straw-blond hair was damp from her workout. She grinned.
“You’re getting pecs,” she said.
“Need a lot more work,” he said, cautious. In here you could never tell the officers from the enlisted women.
She stood and waved. “Got to go. Have the duty in twenty.”
He waved back and returned to his workout. He used his system when he could. The first day he concentrated on his shoulders and arms. The second day was for chest and back. Then the third day was for the delts, triceps, and biceps. He liked to work his forearms hard, using the rubber ring squeezes until his muscles bellowed in agony from the buildup of acids.
Howie liked to bench press. He did pyramids, then ten reps at 350 and two at 370, then two more at 390. He loved to do seated behind-the-neck presses. He filled in with the usual curls, working up to 80 pounds on the dumbbells to build his biceps. At the end he slumped on a bench panting as his breathing and heart rate slipped back to normal.
“You always work out that hard?” the question came from a guy who had a pot belly and lots of flab. He had to be in his late forties.
“Usually, when I have time. You just getting started?”
The guy laughed. “Not hard to tell. My annual physical is coming up and if I don’t hit the marks this time, I’m riding a park bench in New Jersey.”
“Start slow and work up,” Howie said. “Get a good coach to train with you and then stick to a routine. You should be in here at least an hour every day.”
The guy with graying in his temples sat down and shook his head. “That park bench might be sounding better all the time.”
“No way,” Howie said. “Hey, there ain’t no free lunch. You earn your way. If it’s there, you grab it and be grateful. Otherwise you go out and dig in and pay your dues and then you can look for the gravy.”
“Ah, yes. The philosophy of youth.” He stared at Howie for a minute. “What are you twenty-two, twenty-three?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Enlisted?”
“Yeah. You’re an officer?”
“Of a kind. I’m a chaplain, a priest.”
“Oh, boy. I better get going.”
“Why,” the priest asked.
“Before I say something that could bring me up on charges, like insulting an officer, disrespect, all that.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I think all religions are shams and ripoffs. The end result of fear and superstition that’s been formalized and organized and turned into a huge, monstrous business for profit. I think it sucks. I firmly believe that all ministers, reverends, and priests are fakes and phonies and can’t possibly believe what they say they believe. No religion is logical or reasonable.”
The priest moved to the free weights and took ten pounders and began to do curls, working on his biceps.
“You don’t think I haven’t heard this before, young man? I’ve heard and seen it all. Still I have my f
aith. What do you have faith in?”
“Natural laws. Gravity, the planets, the tides, weather, the rebirth of spring that has nothing to do with Easter or Christ. I believe in things that can be proved. I don’t have to make a leap of faith that two and two are four. I can prove it. A leap of faith is a dive into stupidity.”
“What’s your job in the Navy?”
“I’m a SEAL. I’m trained to kill people.”
The priest frowned. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
“Is the pope Polish? Of course, I’ve killed people. A lot. I don’t keep track. It’s my job. I kill the enemies of my nation. I believe in the United States, that’s something else I believe in.”
“My country right or wrong?”
“Something like that, Padre.” He stood, using the towel on the sweat as he headed for the shower. “Got to go, Padre. I’ll let you take your turn sweating, then you can dream of heaven. But remember, that’s all it is, a dream, a figment of man’s collective imagination.”
“I’d like to talk to you again, SEAL.”
Howie stared at the man of the cloth. He shook his head. “Afraid not, Padre. Then I really could get in trouble, especially if you had your officer’s uniform on. What are you, a full commander?”
“Actually, I’m a captain, taking an every-three-years cruise as required by our head chaplain. It keeps us grounded. Looks like I have a lot of grounding to do here.”
Howie waved and walked into the showers.
Western China
In a H-6D Badger Strategic Bomber
Colonel Lin Pota checked his compass bearing and adjusted the automatic pilot slightly to stay on course as the Badger flew high over western China on a most important mission. Colonel Lin was the best pilot in the People’s Liberation Army Air Force. He had more flight hours, had more kills in combat and had mastered flying every aircraft that China had. He was fiercely loyal to China and had not known what this mission was until an hour before takeoff. None of the rest of the crew knew the target. Only two knew what weapon they carried below in the bomb bay. Usually this Badger carried YJ-61 ASM (C-601), the land-based missile version of the antiship missile with a range of 120 km at mach 0.8. It had a large search-and-track radar on its nose to provide target coordinates for the missiles. Today it had a far more deadly cargo. The Badger had been reconfigured to its original capability for this mission.
Death Blow sts-14 Page 6
