A Final Broadside

by Buddy Worrell

  CHAPTER 9

  The commander ushered Sara and Ken into his office and began relating the story his father had told him years ago about the birth of a baby boy as Japanese attackers were bombing the Pacific Fleet. Sara saw a framed picture of Captain Russell Christenbury displayed prominently on the office wall. She looked at the picture and back at Neil several times. “You look more like brothers than father and son.”

  Neil smiled and accepted the statement as the compliment it was intended to be. Sara inquired about the captain, and Neil told her that his dad had wanted to retire from the navy after the war but had been called to Washington as the associate surgeon general. His dad had loved the job and had stayed on for two more years before retiring to his boyhood home in Fredericksburg, Texas.

  “He and Mom are still there on a ranch about twenty miles outside of town. Dad leases most of the pastureland but still maintains a herd of ten or twelve longhorns. He still saddles his rescued mustang and rides the perimeter every day. I call him once a week or so to check in with him and Mom. They are both in their seventies but in good health and loving the ranch. My wife and I get there to visit over the holidays.”

  “Who is this lovely lady?” Sara asked, looking at a picture on Neil’s desk.

  Neil grinned widely and said that it was a picture of his wife Patricia, although everyone had always called her “Cookie” since childhood. “I met her on my first day of medical school, and we have been together ever since. She is a civilian physician specializing in psychiatry at the state hospital in Honolulu. The joke has always been did she fall in love with me, or did she find me to be an interesting case?”

  A page over the intercom interrupted their conversation. “Paging Commander Christenbury. Commander Christenbury, please report to Labor and Delivery.”

  Neil rose from his chair, as did Sara and Ken. “I am sorry we have to break this up, but someone seems to be ready to make an appearance!” Neil exclaimed.

  Sara and Ken thanked the commander enthusiastically and asked to get his father’s address.

  “Lieutenant King will write it down for you. Where are the two of you off to this afternoon?” Neil asked.

  Ken told him that they were going to the Arizona.

  “It is a very special place that seems to have an effect on all who visit her. Lots of veterans and their families come to see her, and interestingly enough, more and more Japanese tourists are visiting,” he said. “Well, I have a newborn waiting on me, and they are notorious for waiting on no one!” Neil laughed and moved swiftly down a corridor to a set of double doors.

  Lieutenant King escorted Sara and Ken back to reception and handed Sara a notepad with Captain Christenbury’s address written on it. “Good-bye, and I hope you find what you need at the memorial,” called the nurse.

  Sara and Ken waved good-bye and exited the hospital for the short walk to the base transportation stop. Ken grasped his mother’s hand and said he was happy they had found Commander Christenbury and his father.

  Sara squeezed her son’s hand and nodded in agreement. Just before they reached the bus stop for the short ride over to the harbor and the USS Arizona Memorial, Sara stopped and faced Ken. “Did you think Lieutenant King’s statement about ‘finding what we need’ at the memorial was a bit weird?”

  Ken agreed but did not know how to interpret her statement.

  “Well, I have a PhD in psychology, and I don’t know how to interpret it either.”

  They reached the stop just as the bus arrived. They boarded right away, and in a few short minutes they arrived at the memorial, where most of the twenty or so other passengers also disembarked, including a small party of what appeared to be Japanese tourists. They proceeded over to the boat ramp, where a shuttle boat would take them to the newly designated national memorial. President Eisenhower had authorized the designation in 1958, and with federal and privately solicited funding, construction had begun on a structure that would straddle the sunken hull but not touch it. It would be several more years before the structure of the memorial was complete. The hull of the great ship was easily visible beneath the waters of the harbor, and all of the visitors peered into the depths to see the battleship. Oil still leaked from the hull, and the image was spooky enough that several visitors backed away from viewing the hull.

  The ship’s effect on Sara was a feeling of overwhelming loss and sadness as tears streamed down her cheeks and spilled onto the dock. She reached over to hold Ken’s hand, but he was not next to her. She glanced about quickly and found him at the water’s edge, peering intently into the water. As Sara move toward him, Ken’s body suddenly jerked upright, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. His mouth was open, but no scream or other sound issued forth. Within a second, Ken’s ramrod-straight body began to tremble and then shake as if some otherworldly hand had him within its grasp.

  Sara reached out to embrace him but was instantly thrown back by some powerful unseen force. She landed hard on her right hip but sprang back to her feet and uttered a primeval scream, calling Ken’s name.

  The other visitors saw what was going on and were moving to Sara to help her when Ken stopped shaking and crashed to his knees. Ken’s head turned slowly toward his mom, and their eyes met briefly before Ken collapsed facedown onto the dock; a thin wisp of smoke emanated from the back of his shirt, and a smell of burning oil surrounded his limp form.

  CHAPTER 10

  Ken awoke in the emergency room of the Pearl Harbor base hospital with an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth and surrounded by unknown people in medical scrubs, rushing about with serious demeanors. As his vision continued clearing, he saw his mother up in the face of what looked to be a physician. She was yelling at him, and the more he tried to calm her down, the more pissed off she seemed to become. Ken turned his head toward the right and saw a curtain, obviously there to screen him from the view of others in the emergency room. It was slightly askew and provided a view into the ER waiting room. Ken saw a number of Japanese tourists peering into the ER. His hearing was limited to a nasty ringing in his ears that seemed to be subsiding. He felt a little wrung out but otherwise okay. The ringing in his ears suddenly stopped, leaving Ken with the sound of his mother’s voice. At a high octave and in a shrill tone, she was demanding that Commander Christenbury be called in to manage this case.

  “Now look, goddamn it! I want someone to call Commander Christenbury right now, or I swear by all that is holy, I will lay a lawsuit on this place that will embarrass the shit out of the freaking navy!”

  “Mom?” Ken whispered, pulling the oxygen mask away.

  Sara’s head snapped toward her son, and she covered the distance to his hospital bed in a microsecond. “Ken!” she screamed. “How do you feel? What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

  Ken told his mom to slow down because his head felt like it was on fire, and her screaming was not helping.

  Sara took several deep breaths and asked her questions again in her most soothing voice. Just at that moment, Commander Christenbury strode into the ER. Seeing Ken on the bed and Sara beside him, he moved quickly toward them. He put his hand on Sara’s shoulder, and looking at Ken, he asked what had happened to him.

  The ER doctor moved closer to the bed, and Christenbury introduced him to Sara and Ken as Lt. James Goodson. “One of the best ER and trauma physicians on the islands,” Christenbury assured them.

  A wave of embarrassment swept over Sara as she remembered her encounter with Lieutenant Goodson just moments before. She mumbled an apology to the lieutenant, who smiled at her and immediately brushed it aside.

  Lieutenant Goodson did a quick check of Ken’s vitals and his reaction to stimuli, pupil reaction to light, and musculoskeletal reflexes, and all checked out as normal. He leaned toward Ken and said, “Ken, tell us what you remember.”

  Ken blinked several times and took several deep breaths, as if to assure himself t
hat he was okay. “I remember looking down at the hull, and I felt myself overwhelmed with sadness. I remember focusing my thoughts on how horrible and frustrating the moments before death must have been for those who suffered on and below deck. I imagined seeing men running around on deck, trying to reach their battle stations to defend their ship but being cut down by machine-gun fire. But the worst was seeing that armor-piercing shell punch through the deck and ignite the forward magazine. I imagined all of the cells in my body exploding outward. At that moment, all sound ceased, and my only recollection was of fire, smoke, melting steel, and flaming fuel. All went white, and I woke up here. What does all that mean?”

  The room was silent, and all Ken heard was the pounding pulse of his heart. Lieutenant Goodson spoke first. “We don’t know what it means, Ken. While you were out, I ran a battery of tests to find a cause for the convulsion, tremor, or potential epileptic seizure that you had. All came back negative.” After a pause the lieutenant continued. “Something else, Ken. One of the first persons to reach you at the dock was a Japanese physician named Dr. Ninomya. He and his party were on the memorial with you when this happened. When he rolled you over, you were not breathing and had no pulse. He applied chest compressions and breathed air into your mouth until the medics arrived. By then, you were breathing normally and had a normal cardiac rhythm. He is waiting outside to make sure you are all right. The odd thing is that when I asked him about where he had learned the techniques he applied on you, he said he had never learned about them in medical school. He said that when he touched you, he instantly knew what to do. Any ideas about that?”

  Ken glanced over at his mother with a look that communicated volumes and answered, “No.”

  Lieutenant Goodson continued, “As far as we can tell, Ken, you neither had a pulse nor were breathing for about five minutes, although Dr. Ninomya was performing the technique. Do you recall anything during that time?”

  Again Ken answered no.

  Lieutenant Goodson turned to Sara and said he wanted to keep Ken overnight for observation, just to be sure he was fully recovered.

  Ken started to protest, but Sara interrupted, telling Lieutenant Goodson that she thought that was an excellent idea. Goodson pointed over to the hallway where the Japanese tourists were waiting and asked Ken if he would like to meet the man who had obviously saved his life.

  Ken looked over to the hallway and waved for the group to come in. But instead of all twelve tourists entering the treatment area, only one man entered. He approached Ken’s bed and bowed deeply. Ken tried to return the bow but had to settle with a lowering of his chin. The man addressed Ken as if no one else was in the room, saying, “It was a privilege to assist you, and I am happy that you are recovering. May I return your custom and shake your hand?”

  Ken started to protest that it was he who owed thanks but instead offered up his right hand.

  Dr. Ninomya grasped it firmly, all the while looking deeply into Ken’s eyes. “You are a young man, but even now you are in possession of special knowledge and talents. You have changed me, and I will forever be in your debt and at your service.” Ninomya placed Ken’s right hand back on the hospital bed, bowed again, turned as if to acknowledge the rest of the room’s occupants, and left the room.

  Commander Christenbury, who had been carefully observing all that was happening, turned to Ken and asked, “Do you know what that was all about?”

  Ken shrugged his shoulders and answered, “No.”

  That evening, Ken’s mom returned to the hospital to check on him. He was antsy and ready to leave. “I’m okay, Mom, and I want to get out of here,” Ken pleaded.

  She nodded and told him she would spring him tomorrow. Then she picked up Ken’s hand and said that she needed some straight answers to some straight questions. She continued that she wanted the truth and no evasive garbage. Ken saw that she was serious and said okay.

  “Did you lie to Lieutenant Goodson and Commander Christenbury tonight?” his mother asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you know how Dr. Ninomya suddenly became aware of the technique you used at Tweetsie?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you know what Dr. Ninomya was talking about when he said you had changed him?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you have memories of what happened to you when you were essentially dead?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Ken, what is going on?”

  “Something extraordinary,” he said. “Since you are making me stay here, I will sort it all out myself tonight, but I promise we will talk tomorrow. Are you okay from your fall? You never said anything about it to Lieutenant Goodson.”

  Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Ken, you were in the middle of that seizure or whatever it was. How do you know I fell?”

  “Tomorrow, Mom. Tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Sara returned to the hospital early the next morning to find Ken in the waiting room, up, dressed, and ready to leave. Sara started to speak, but Ken cut her off, saying that Lieutenant Goodson had come by around 6:00 a.m., checked him over for any lasting effects from the previous day’s drama, and signed him out.

  Sarah exhaled a sigh of relief. “That is great!” She motioned Ken toward the ob-gyn hallway. “I want to thank Commander Christenbury and tell him good-bye before we leave the base,” Sara said.

  Ken started to speak, but this time, Sara cut him off. “We won’t be long, and we can get some breakfast at the diner just off base. And then, young man, you have some answers to provide.”

  Ken shrugged and fell in behind Sara as they approached Commander Christenbury’s office. Neil was on the phone but looked up and motioned them in.

  He quickly finished his call and rose to greet Sara and Ken. “Well, you are looking pretty good, all things considered. I spoke to Goodson earlier, and he said you were in good shape for discharge. However, he is still puzzled by what happened and cannot offer up any conclusions other than that from a medical standpoint, Ken is healthy.” Christenbury paused and looked down at the floor and then back to Ken with a probing stare. “I am willing to wager that whatever happened yesterday has had a profound effect on both of you. I am also wagering that whatever happened yesterday was not only profound but also lasting in its effects. Would you agree with that, Ken?”

  Christenbury’s eyes were locked onto Ken’s, and Ken seemed unable to break the stare. He acknowledged Neil’s assessment with a nod and mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

  Neil’s eyes turned toward Sara, who was beginning to tremble. He continued, “In the years since the end of the war, this hospital has heard from and even treated dozens of visitors to the Arizona memorial for what they have described as odd, weird, troubling, or even scary encounters with the ship. They have reported seeing orbs that take the shape of men or running on the sunken decks; they hear alarm bells going off, yet no alarms are a part of the memorial. Others report hearing knocking sounds coming from the hull, as if someone is inside, banging on the walls of the ship with a wrench. Some visitors have seen what they thought were men swimming in the water beside the Arizona’s hull, and others neither saw nor heard a thing yet were so shaken and disturbed that they could not leave the memorial fast enough.”

  Neil Christenbury turned back to Ken again. “When I talked to Dr. Ninomya after he left you yesterday, I asked him what he meant when he said that you changed him. Know what he said?”

  Ken nodded. “Not exactly, but I can imagine.”

  “He told me that the instant he touched you, he saw what you saw, as if looking through your eyes. He said he had the same feelings and impressions that you were feeling. He saw you save a man at some train park and was immediately skilled in the technique.”

  The commander looked over at Sara and said, “Mrs. Hager, Ken scared this man badly, and the only thing that kept h
im from running away as fast as he could was the vision of a dead officer saying, ‘Stay with him … stay with him.’ When Ninomya reestablished Ken’s heartbeat and breathing, the vision vanished. I asked Dr. Ninomya if the vision of the officer identified himself, and he said an impression of the name Nate flashed across his mind. Does this name mean anything to you, Sara?”

  Sara’s eyes grew cloudy, and the room began to swirl as her tremble escalated into violent shaking. She felt her mouth go dry and her knees buckle, and had Ken not caught her, she would have passed out on the floor of the office. Christenbury quickly reached into his lab coat pocket and retrieved a vial of smelling salts.

  With one quick pass of the vial under her nose, Sara’s mind snapped back to full consciousness. “Enough!” she shrieked as the doctor passed the vial before her again. “This is too much! I need time to sort all of this out. It makes no sense, and I really need to leave right now.”

  Commander Christenbury nodded in agreement and gestured that he would walk them out.

  A few minutes later, in the hospital’s front reception area, Sara’s head was clearing quickly, and she was much more sure-footed. She looked at Commander Christenbury and then over at Ken. “I apologize for the drama. I am usually a very stable person, even for a psychologist!”

  “Says who?” Ken asked.

  The commander laughed and clapped Ken on the shoulder. “I know this is too much now, but when you have time to sort out these events, please call me collect. As a physician, I realize my patients are hurting. As a scientist, I have no way to explain any of this.”

  Ken nodded, shook Commander Christenbury’s hand, and started to lead his mother through the entrance doors out into a beautiful Hawaiian morning.

  Before she exited, Sara turned to Commander Christenbury and said, “Nate was Lieutenant JG Nathaniel Hawthorne Starbuck. He was my husband’s best friend on the Arizona.”