The Gray Ship

by Russell Moran

  ***

  After a month of listening to testimony the Board began their deliberations. Admiral Miller arranged for a large photograph to be displayed on the screen for the duration of their discussion. It was the photo of Abraham Lincoln and Captain Patterson.

  Admiral Miller set the stage for their deliberations. "Fellas, our job is to come up with findings of fact and to make recommendations. I want to be clear on something. Remember the testimony of Dr.Weinberg, Benny the Bullshit Detector. He said it wasn't his job to believe the stories or not, only to assess whether the witnesses believed them. Well our job is different. We have to determine, as a factual finding, if this incredible story is true. I've drafted a summary finding of fact that I believe to be the truth. If you disagree, let's hear it. Here's my summary.

  The Naval Board of Inquiry into the Disappearance of the USS California

  Summary Finding of Fact. On April 10, 2013, off the coast of Charleston, South Carolina, the USS California encountered a wormhole, a phenomenon that modern science has not been able to explain. The ship was transported through time to April 10, 1861 and participated in the Civil War. The California engaged the naval blockade of the South, the Battle of Bull Run, the destruction of Robert E. Lee's Army, and the missile attack on the City of Richmond. After four months, 1861 time, the ship again encountered the wormhole and was transported back to 2013. The ship had been missing for just over seven hours, 2013 time.

  "So that's the summary as I see it, gentlemen," Miller said. "The actual record, consisting of hundreds of pages, will be attached. So this summary, if you agree, says that we believe the story. Does anyone disagree with the summary?" Not one hand went up.

  "Well, since we all believe the unbelievable, I have a few other findings that I suggest we answer."

  Hoss Miller passed around a sheet of questions.

  "Do you find any evidence of wrongdoing by any fact witness who appeared before this Board?" The unanimous answer was NO.

  "Do you find any evidence that Captain Ashley Patterson did not execute her duties to the best of her ability?" The unanimous answer was NO.

  "Do you have any specific recommendations to avoid a similar occurrence from ever happening again?" This wasn't a yes/no question. It was a question to solicit ideas from the Board members. All Miller saw was shaking heads and hunched shoulders.

  "Well, I have a recommendation," said Admiral Miller.

  He held up a large card, which simply read:

  STAY AWAY!

  N 32° 41' 41"

  W 78° 34' 27"

  "What's that, Hoss?" asked Admiral Ferguson.

  "The coordinates of the wormhole," said Miller.

  "This Board of Inquiry is officially closed."

  Chapter 102

  Ashley and Jack left the ship at different times. Ashley was concerned about appearances. This crap shall soon end, she thought.

  They were both on a 30-day leave, 30 days of relaxation, freedom from stress, and also 30 days to get to know each other. They met for lunch at an out of the way diner near the rental place where they'd pick up a car. Jack owned a vacation home on a lake about two hours away. As Jack drove, they passed the time telling jokes and guessing the states of passing license plates. No decisions, no boatswain's pipe, no uniform of the day, no meetings. Their mission was to relax and be in each other's company. They were both dedicated to the mission.

  "So, Operation Jack and Ashley has begun," said Ashley. "As I recall I put you in command of the operation, Lieutenant. A house on a lake is a commendable start."

  "I take this operation very seriously, Captain," said Jack, as he reached over and squeezed her hand.

  "Jack, isn't it about time you started calling me Ashley?"

  "Aye aye, Ashley. How about Sweetheart?"

  She leaned over and kissed him.

  They drove down a winding road to the house. Jack's caretaker had arranged things for their visit.

  Ashley drew her breath as she looked at the house and the view of the lake. The house rose two stories high with dark shingling and a roofline inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright. In front was a gravel parking area, marked off by logs and surrounded by wild flowers. They walked out onto the huge mahogany deck. In the distance, two small mountains converged, providing a viewing frame for the lake. They inhaled the fresh air blowing across the water. A stairway led from the deck to a floating dock, to which was tied a shining antique wooden Chris Craft powerboat. The boat was named Wordsmith. They sat down to take in the view, Ashley in an Adirondack chair, Jack stretched out on a lounge.

  "Where do you live when you're not at this beautiful place, Jack?"

  "I have a place on East 66th Street in Manhattan."

  "You own an apartment on East 66th?"

  "Well, it's a Brownstone."

  "What do we pay Lieutenants these days?"

  Jack smiled. "Book royalties do add up."

  "Speaking of books, I think you should write another novel after you're done with the big Gray Ships book. Maybe something inspired by the last few months."

  "I have been working on an idea for a novel, and I've been looking forward to bouncing it off you."

  "Fire away," said Ashley, "I'll play the part of your literary agent."

  "Okay, but try to act short, fat, and bald."

  "Here goes. Two lonely people meet on a ship at sea in a scary and troubling time. They're frightened and confused, and they don't know what will become of them. As the time passes, they become closer. They fall in love, and with all the uncertainty they know one thing. Whatever happens, their love won't go away."

  Ashley brushed a tear from her eye, reached over and touched Jack's hand.

  "Now that's a book that deserves a big advance," Ashley said softly.

  "How big?"

  Ashley got up from her chair and lay next to Jack on the lounger. They embraced as if trying to squeeze away the events of the last few months. Their lips met, and they both lost track of time.

  A loud screech interrupted them. Ashley sat up with a bolt, expecting to hear, "Captain to the bridge."

  "Relax Hon, it's just an osprey." Ashley collapsed back into his arms, laughing.

  ***

  The sun was setting behind the mountains, and a gentle breeze came off the lake through the screen doors of the master bedroom suite. Jack was taking a shower. As he lathered up, he heard a soft tapping on the shower door.

  "Don't you believe in conserving energy, Lieutenant?" Ashley said as she opened the door and stepped in.

  "Wow, I've never seen you out of uniform before," Jack said as he wrapped his arms around her. "Did I mention, Wow?"

  "You're not too bad looking yourself, sailor."

  They caressed amid the steam, water, and soap.

  Although they both needed sleep, there was little to be had that night. They recalled the months of longing, the months of wanting to reach out, to touch and embrace. Those months seemed like an eternity ago. But that night there was no tentativeness or timidity. There was no looking both ways, no listening for footsteps. They abandoned themselves to passion and made love into the wee hours.

  ***

  Ashley awoke before Jack. She took a quick shower, threw on a robe and went downstairs. As she walked into the kitchen she had a great idea. She would cook a country breakfast for herself and Jack. She rummaged through the well stocked refrigerator, piling ingredients on the counter.

  A thought intruded. She had no idea how to cook. Anything. Can't be that hard, she figured. Just common sense, right?

  Jack came down a half hour later. Ashley placed a folded napkin over her left forearm, bowed and gestured toward the table with her right hand. She didn't identify the offerings, which was just as well. They were unidentifiable. She and Jack leaned over and kissed, and then began eating.

  The food was inedible.

  At first they chuckled. Then they laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.

  "I'll just toss this stuff in the lake," As
hley said, still laughing. "Biodegradable, right?"

  Jack envisioned hundreds of dead fish floating along the shoreline.

  "That's okay, Hon. I'll just put it out in the trash."

  ***

  "I've got a place in mind that you'll love," said Jack. "There's a great little restaurant down the lake. The food's great and the view is almost as good as it is here. We'll take the boat."

  As they boarded Wordsmith, Ashley ran her hand over the mahogany decking and the leather upholstery. Jack stood behind the wheel and turned the key, the boat's inboard diesel engine growling to life. Ashley tossed off the lines and they motored down the lake. Rather than sit, Ashley chose to stand next to Jack as he steered the boat. For months on the California, they stole glances, blew kisses, and occasionally touched hands. Now, neither of them wanted to be apart from each other. She put her arm around his waist.

  Jack maneuvered Wordsmith next to the dock at the restaurant, aptly named Lakeside. Ashley jumped onto the dock and secured the lines. I can't cook, she thought, but I sure as hell know the ropes.

  They were seated on the open deck, shaded by a stand of tall deciduous trees. The waiter brought two cups of steaming coffee while they perused the menu. Jack was right. The place was beautiful, and the view even better. They could almost see Jack's house at the far end of the lake. Two snowy egrets patrolled the flats as if it were a buffet line, plucking fish and pointing their beaks skyward to swallow. Along the shoreline to the left, a great hawk circled, looking down for inattentive prey. A sailboat rocked in the distance, her sails luffing in the light morning wind.

  The waiter came to take their orders.

  They finished their breakfast, sat back and sipped coffee, while taking in the view and holding hands. Jack glanced down at an advertisement on the placemat.

  "Hey Hon, it says here that there's going to be a nineteenth-century antique fair at the old farm just down the road from my house. Sounds like fun. It'll be like a trip to the past."

  "Shut up, Jack," Ashley said, as she leaned over and kissed him.

  "Let's talk about the future."

  "Aye aye, Captain."

  About the Author

  Russ Moran is the former CEO of Moran Publishing Company, a publisher of legal periodicals. He is a Navy Veteran, having served aboard the aircraft carrier USS Wasp. He has written two books of non-fiction, Justice in America: How it Works, How it Fails, and The APT Principle – The Business Plan that You Carry in Your Head. He is the former Chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Long Island Maritime Museum.

  Russ lives on Long Island, New York with his wife Lynda.