An announcement came over the loud speaker. "Security alert, security alert. All hands stand fast. Security team arm yourselves from the ammunition locker and conduct a thorough search of the USS Evansville."
The kicking stopped and a few moments later heavy footsteps came running down the deck.
"Stand aside," someone yelled. I could tell the bubbleheads had stepped back as the air became more abundant.
"Identify yourself."
I opened my eyes to find myself staring down the barrel of an M-16 rifle. Next to the rifleman stood a guy with a .45 caliber pistol aimed at my head.
"Fireman Chambers, flex hose shop," I called out. My voice shook with fear as I trembled with pain and laid there scared out of my wits, hands shaking in front of my chest.
"He attacked me and Rumsey," Smitty yelled, pointing to me on the deck.
"On your stomach, Chambers. Arms stretched over your head and legs straight."
I rolled over as instructed. Someone patted me down while I winched in pain, confirming my belief that some ribs may have been broken.
"Suspect clean," the patter announced.
"On your feet," the gunman yelled.
The bubbleheads stood back as I struggled to stand upright. My body throbbed all over. Severe pain to my ribs made it difficult to stand up straight. No doubt, Rumsey gave me a matching set of black eyes, and my hand hurt from connecting so solidly with Smitty's jaw.
"Let's see what the Captain wants to do with your sorry ass. Move it." Mr. Forty-five shoved me in the direction he wanted me to go. Armed escorts in front and behind me led the way to the Captain's stateroom. After knocking and receiving permission, we entered.
The Captain's small flip-down desk faced the wall. He moved his chair sideways to look at me. Touches of gray appeared at the sides of his otherwise jet-black hair. Early forties, I guessed, and a face without laughter lines. Not a good sign.
"Captain, we apprehended the suspect. He started trouble with members of the crew and they used necessary force to restrain him until we arrived."
That lying sack of shit. He never asked anybody what happened. Boy, these guys did circle the wagons when one of their shipmates gets the crap beat out of them. I stood at attention as best I could.
The Captain's eyes narrowed and his voice boomed. "What happened, sailor?"
I stood there for moment composing myself while my mind raced through possibilities. Well, sir, they called my girlfriend names, so I started a brawl on a nuclear submarine. Naw. Won't wash. "Sir, I came down to assist with some hydrostatic testing. One of your men made cruel and sick jokes about homosexuals. I happen to have a brother who was gay. I politely asked him to refrain from making such comments as I found them offensive and in bad taste."
I looked at the Captain. It looked fifty-fifty whether he was buying it or not. Okay, dog movie. I closed my eyes for a moment, rerunning the sad ending in my mind. Visualizing the shot dog letting out her final whimpers with a bullet hole in her head. Once I had a proper welling up, I opened my eyes and made a noticeable hard swallow.
"Your man continued with his comments. He said those kind of people should be shot." I let the tears go into full flow. "My brother was gunned down last month in a drive by shooting outside a gay bar by some bigots. I know the Navy doesn't allow homosexuals, but this was my brother. Shot dead, just as a member of your crew had wished." I sniffled hard. "Sorry, sir. I flipped out. I decked him, then half the crew jumped me, and I just tried to defend myself."
I stood there shaking, more out of fear than pain. The Captain stared at me. He finally instructed one of the security team to bring in the others involved in the fight. A few minutes later, Smitty and Rumsey appeared. They stood at attention. The Captain shifted his gaze between the two of them.
"Did either of you making derogatory remarks about homosexuals?" The Captain's eyes darted back and forth between Rumsey and Smitty.
"No, sir." Smitty replied.
"You fucking liar," I shouted. I had to play this to the end or I'd probably end up in the brig. There must have been some law against lying to a Captain. "You called me a queer and accused a very good friend of mine of being a lesbian. She could get kicked out because of clowns like you spreading vicious lies."
The room stood silent for a moment.
"Petty Officer Smith." The Captain's tone was slow and deliberate. "Did you make any remarks that could be interpreted as offensive to gays?"
"Only if he is one, sir." Smitty looked at me and smirked, immediately followed by him grabbing his jaw in pain.
"Chambers, I should, but I'm not going to put you on report. But I want you off my vessel. Report back to your supervisor, and tell him to send someone else down to finish the testing, and I don't ever want you on my boat again." He looked at the guy with the M-16. "Petty Officer Thomas, escort Fireman Chambers off the boat."
"Aye aye, Captain."
I left under armed escort and went back to the shop, entering Watkins' office upon arrival.
"Holy crap, Chambers. What'd you do now?"
I looked at the deck. "Have I ever told you about my gay brother?"
Chapter 21Watkins interrogated me further, but it felt like he just wanted to do some more laughing at the situation. After he had a good giggle at my expense, he sent me over to sickbay. Sure enough, I had three fractured ribs in addition to having to walk around looking like a raccoon. They issued me with a light-duty chit and instructed me to take it to the division office to have it documented that I wasn't allowed to do any heavy lifting for four weeks.
I walked up the all too familiar metal staircase to the division office. Holly looked over the top of her glasses when I came in. She removed her glasses and her mouth dropped open.
"What the hell happened to you?"
I really was getting tired of her greeting me with the same old line. She stared as I pulled up a chair next to her desk and sat down. "Some guys were talking shit about you down on the Evansville. Some rude stuff. So, I stood up for your dignity, and broke his freakin' jaw. He's gonna have a hard time talking shit for a while." I handed her my chit.
She looked it over. "You poor thing. That is so Walter Raleigh. Daddy leaves tomorrow and I'm going to show you how totally grateful I am once he's gone. But I don't know what he's going to say tonight when you come to dinner to say goodbye to him looking like that."
The door to Lieutenant Johnson's office opened and before he looked around, he spoke. "Petty Officer Knight, would you have Fireman Chambers…" He noticed me sitting there. "Ah, Fireman Chambers, would you step into my office?" He didn't sound mad, which usually meant a soft build up trying to trap me before he blew his stack.
Pushing myself out of the chair with difficulty, I stood and walked to his office. He closed the door behind me and took a seat behind his desk.
"I'm seeing you more often than I would like, Fireman Chambers. I just had a call from the Commanding Officer of the Evansville and he told me about a little fracas that happened on his ship. Apparently, you were in the midst of it all. So tell me how you managed to get a submarine to go to a security alert?"
I looked at the floor before I began my well-oiled story. "Well, sir, did I ever tell you about my gay brother?"
#
I patted myself on the back on the bus ride to Holly's apartment after work for coming up with the 'gay brother' story. Everyone had bought it and I managed to keep myself out of trouble. I always prided myself for being original, but I'd definitely use that story again if I ever found myself in a tight spot. Some people had imaginary friends. I just invented myself an imaginary dead brother.
The Knight gang of two welcomed me when I arrived for dinner. We barely exchanged pleasantries before Holly had dinner on the table. She outdid herself in making a meatloaf stuffed with strawberries and broccoli. Luckily she made gallons of mushroom gravy using canned soup which enabled me to drown the meatloaf with a pleasant enough tasting disguising agent.
"I hate to sa
y it, Tyler," Mr. Knight said with a sympathetic voice, "but you look like you've really been through the wars."
"Well, sir, I'm sure you would agree that I had no choice but to save your daughter's name from being tarnished. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guys." My smile caused me pain.
He leaned in over the table. "What was it they said?"
"It's not important, sir. Let's just say they cast Holly in an immoral light."
His fist came crashing down on the table, jarring a strawberry from the buttocks of the meatloaf. Plop. I fought a giggle.
"You did the right thing, Tyler. Damnation awaits those who blemish the pure." He reached over and stroked Holly's hair. "The defenders of purity," he pointed at me, "will gain their place in heaven."
If only he could put that in writing so I could show that to Gabriel at the pearly gates. I lowered my head and shrugged in a show of modesty.
Mr. Knight praised me all through dinner for defending his daughter's honor and said my injuries were a small price to pay to keep the Knight name above reproach. And I had a ticket to heaven, so I was pleased.
After dinner, he and I went to the living room while Holly stayed in the kitchen doing the dishes. I put on the tape of Beethoven's seventh symphony, my favorite, which I had purchased and brought with me to play as background music. Mr. Knight let it be known that the fifth was his favorite.
He hummed along with the tape for a while then leaned in and spoke softly. "You know, Tyler, I think you're a class guy. I had my doubts about you in the beginning, but you're a caring person. And I can see Holly is really happy with you. So, if you want to ask me anything, fire away." He leaned back and smiled expectantly at me.
What the hell was I supposed to be asking him? How long was his flight home? Did he really think Beethoven's fifth was better than the seventh? Does he really believe in twenty-one-year-old virgins? My mind went blank. It must have had something to do with religion or Shakespeare, but I didn't know where this was going.
"Well, sir…I've been meaning to ask you…what's that aftershave you wear? It has a very nice scent. I've been thinking about getting some myself." God, that sounded so gay, but I couldn't think of anything else. His aftershave was the last thing I cared about. Not to mention I'd never get Holly into bed smelling like him.
The hanky came out and he had a wipe. He sighed. "Tyler, I'm a traditionalist. I like things to be done the old-fashioned way."
"Oh, Brut 33, is it?"
He looked flustered. "Son, I'm talking about old-fashioned in the relationship sense." He smacked the bottom of his fist into his open palm.
"Don't worry, Mr. Knight, I listened to your sermon and wouldn't do anything out of wedlock with your daughter."
He smiled broadly. "Now you're getting the picture. That's what I'm talking about, son. A young couple like you and Princess can't fight urges forever. I'm sure you're ready to plant the seed of your loin. You won't get a better catch than Holly, you know? And I'm a wealthy man. I can help you kids along the way, especially if there's grandchildren involved."
I felt my heart stop. Unfortunately, it started again.
"Umm…Reverend, I really like Holly. I just want us to be sure about any long term commitments."
"Look, Tyler, I'm on a plane tomorrow morning. These kinds of requests for permission shouldn't be done over the phone. They should be done man-to-man." He extended his hand, his finger pointing at me like a mock gun. "And you're a man, right?"
I nodded.
"I won't say anything to Holly about our little discussion. I wouldn't want to spoil your surprise for her. And knowing you're a man of integrity, I'm sure you like to do these things the right way. The way the good Lord intended them to be done. I’d like to leave here a happy man, and I'm sure you'd like to know you've been given the green light. Right?" He winked. "And when I said I was wealthy, I meant very wealthy. Now, is there anything you'd like to ask me before I leave?"
I tried to clear the lump out of my throat, but it was lodged pretty tight. He had a look of anticipation I hadn't seen before. He sat on the edge of his chair, hands clasped together, wearing a big smile and nodding as if to urge me on.
My stomach tightened, sweat engulfed my palms as my hands shook and my head lightly spun. I needed a drink and desperately wanted to run to the kitchen and take a few shots of my very good friend Jack. I wasn't cut out for this sobriety thing. Drawing a deep breath, and fighting a twitching in my butt, I managed to speak. "Mr. Knight, when the time is right, and if it's okay with you, may I have your daughter's hand in marriage?"
Chapter 22Tears came down his cheeks, followed by the hanky coming out of his pocket. His head bobbed like a plastic nodding dog on the back shelf of a Chevrolet. He stood up, motioned me to do the same, and gave me one of those back cracking bear hugs. I groaned from the pain he applied to my ribs. He quickly backed away and apologized.
"You've made me so happy. Bless you." He wiped his eyes and blew his nose. "Yes, you may have her hand in marriage. You have my blessing."
A 'What have I done?' feeling swept over me. But, hey, I wasn't under any obligation. I made an old man happy and if I ever did want to marry Holly, that hurdle was out of the way. I wondered how much was very wealthy. Was it a million, or more like ten? No matter. It was lots. And I did enjoy seeing the pure excitement on his face and in his eyes.
The thought of marrying Holly gave me strange feelings. I did like her, she was a lot of fun, and I had gotten used to her ways. Good looking, loads of money, great in bed. But was I really ready to be tamed yet? I wasn't so sure about that, but at least now I had a pretty good backup plan.
I stood in a trance as Mr. Knight wiped the tears of joy from his ice blue eyes.
"Like, what's going on?" Holly appeared with a pot of coffee and three mugs.
"Nothing, Princess." The reverend shoved his hanky back in his pocket. "Tyler just told me a very funny joke."
See? He lied. So if he doesn't rot in the damnation of burning hell, neither will I. What a relief he offered that lying was okay in the right circumstances. That's all I ever did.
"Why don't you sit down, Holly? I'll rub your feet." I quickly turned to her father. "That is, if you don't mind, sir. It's nothing untoward." I looked back to Holly. "They must be tired after making that wonderful dinner."
Mr. Knight took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I used to do the same thing for Holly's mother. God rest her soul."
"God rest her soul," Holly echoed.
I sat on a footstool, my back to the Reverend, massaging Holly's feet. To be more accurate, I used her foot to massage my crotch. As much as I liked Mr. Knight, I couldn't wait for him to go so we could get back on the proper pre-marital sex track. He cramped her style.
In the interest of saving embarrassment, I stopped massaging myself before I got hard and sat next to Holly. The reverend quoted several scriptures and prayed before I excused myself to go back to the base. We said a warm goodbye and I wished him a pleasant trip home. He couldn't keep the smile off his face and it pleased me to be the source of his happiness.
#
The following morning Mark and I sat together in the shop during some down time. I lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings.
"Holly dad's leaving today, isn't he?" Mark asked.
"Yep, back to LA. God, I can't wait to give Holly a good seeing to. She must be going mental by being sex-starved for so long."
Mark laughed. "Good thing you had Debbie ransoming your dick, huh?"
"Well, I wouldn't have put it like that. I still feel pretty guilty about it, and she's starting to tighten the screws. Wants me to make a choice between her and Holly."
He laid his hand on my shoulder. "Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. Face it, you're a slut. Albeit through emotional blackmail, but a slut nonetheless. Women like to feel special, and that takes more than a blast of whip cream. So, who's it gonna be?"
I looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. "Reverend Knight
made me ask for his permission to marry Holly."
"Marry her?" He squealed.
I put my finger to my lips.
"Are you crazy? Tyler, you can't marry the girl. Fuckin' her in johns is one thing, but marriage? That's a whole other toilet."
"I didn't say I was going to. I had to ask him to shut him up. I thought he was gonna cry if I didn't. Holly's not really the marrying type. I like her, but I don't know. Not yet, anyway. I'm just impressed that Mr. Knight thought I was worthy of his precious daughter. That's quite a compliment, you know? He wouldn't let just any shithead marry her."
"I would have believed that until you told me that you were the chosen shithead." He winked and smiled.
"Chambers!" Watkins called out across the shop, halting our conversation.
I walked into his office wondering if I had done anything recently that would warrant an ass-chewing or a court martial. I came up empty.
He smiled when I entered. "You ready to go back on a sub?"
I hesitated. "Sure, why not." I tried to sound confident but could have done without fires, fights or smashing my head on decks.
"This is simple. Take this work procedure package down to the Hilton Head and get the Chief of M-division to sign it off. It has all the test results and he needs to approve it. They took the hoses but never signed to say they received them."
I nodded and left with the package.
After receiving permission to come aboard from the sub's Officer of the Deck, I lowered myself through the hatch and navigated my way to M-division. All the subs were pretty much the same, so I knew my way around by now. I recognized the tall ginger-headed man in the khaki uniform as the Chief who had come to the shop earlier to witness the testing. A quick glance at his name tag confirmed him being the man in charge of M-division.
"Umm…Chief Peterson?"
He looked at me.
"I need you to sign this package, Chief." I held up the manila folder. "It just says that you guys got the hoses back."
Trouble Triangle (Tyler's Trouble Trilogy) Page 20
