Lake saw that Michaelson’s face showed little sympathy, in fact it showed contempt. The man was no taller than Lake, but his broad shoulders and chest gave indication of the years he had spent working with block and tackle in the torpedo rooms of countless ships.
“Mister Lake,” Michaelson put the emphasis on the word “Mister,”
“One of my boys, Fireman Jepson to be exact, told me you snapped at him this morning when he tried to wake you. I would like to know why, sir. It’s hard enough to train these boys properly without you officers …”
“Oh, Chief, must you bother me with such pettiness this morning? I’m really not in the mood. And to tell you the truth, I really don’t care. I’m so short I can hang my feet off a dime and not touch the ground.”
Michaelson’s face grew beet red with anger. His khaki shirt grew taut in the arms as his large biceps flexed and the small stabilizer muscles twitched and fluttered. “I don’t much care how short you are, sir. You are an officer, and until you leave the navy, you are expected to act like one. You may have resigned your commission, but you still have a duty to the tradition of the fleet.”
“I don’t have a duty to anything or anyone. In a few hours, I’ll be on a plane to the mainland and you’ll still be here worrying about poor Jepson. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Lake walked on and left Michaelson seething in the passageway. He never really had gotten along with the torpedo chief at any point during his tour on the Providence. In Lake’s mind, the man was old navy in disguise, trying to pretend that he really cared for his men because that’s what got you good marks in today’s navy. Just one of the many reasons Lake was leaving the navy forever.
Taking the passageway forward, Lake reached a fork and took the passage on the starboard side that led into the officers’ quarters and wardroom. He ducked into the wardroom and found Lieutenant Commander Aubrey Van Peenan sitting at the dining table that took up most of the room. Standing before him, looking rather pale and slight were Ensign Philip Yi and MM3 Dean, an engineering petty officer. Van Peenan had a massive volume of the ship’s engineering instruction manual open on the table in front of him and he read the book in silence while stroking the hair behind his ears with the fingers of both hands. His fingers shook as they moved across the short red hair and Lake could see the telltale vein protruding on his forehead, a sure sign that the man was falling into the midst of one of his rages. Yi and the petty officer looked tired and had obviously just come off watch. Both appeared to be the source of Van Peenan’s anger and they stood in foreboding silence like convicted criminals awaiting their sentence.
A small bar on one side of the room contained a pitcher of milk and several assorted cereal boxes. Lake slipped by the standing ensign and petty officer, grabbed a box of cereal and poured some milk into a bowl before sitting down at the other end of the table. None of the other three said a word to him or even acknowledged his presence in the room.
One of the engineer’s hands suddenly shot from his ear and slammed hard on the open book in front of him, shaking the table enough to spill some of Lake’s milk. The sudden noise made the other two men start from their motionless stance.
“Tough shit!” Van Peenan said. “It states right here that auxiliary seawater valve 101 is not to be opened without first venting the auxiliary seawater expansion tank.” The engineer’s visibly shaking finger pointed to the words as he read them out loud. “There is nothing wrong with this procedure, Petty Officer Dean. The problem is you and your sorry ass excuses. The problem is that you can’t seem to follow the procedures as they are written in the fucking manuals. And this isn’t the first time you’ve caused an incident, Dean. You’re disqualified as of this moment. And I’m also recommending you for captain’s mast for this blatant disobedience of a direct order.”
“S-Sir.” Yi feebly attempted to intervene. “I don’t believe this incident warrants …”
“Tough shit, Mister Yi!” Van Peenan recommenced stroking the hair behind his ears. “It most certainly does warrant captain’s mast. And you had better keep your damn mouth shut, or you’ll be under investigation too!” He shifted his gaze back to Dean. “You, Petty Officer Dean, disobeyed a direct fucking order. You’re directed to follow fucking procedures as they’re written in the fucking manuals and you failed to fucking follow them. How many times do I have to fucking beat it into your head? You’re going before captain’s mast, as sure as shit! We’ll see if a couple months’ restriction and half-pay will make you a better sailor. Get out of here, you’re dismissed!” Dean, who was no more than eighteen, seemed too afraid to even respond to the engineer’s tirade. He simply turned and left the wardroom with Van Peenan’s piercing eyes following him the whole way out.
Lake chuckled a little as he ate his cereal. “Jeez, Eng. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”
Van Peenan ignored him and stood to face Yi. The engineer’s face was rather boyish, which made it look all the more hideous when it was screwed up and bulging veins during one of his moods.
“Mister Yi, I hold your sorry ass responsible for this incident as well. You were not in control back there this morning, and I don’t think you’re capable of leading men at all. It was your fucking division that failed the inspection for us back in Diego Garcia and your ass seems to be involved — or not involved, I should say — whenever something goes wrong in my engine room. You are hereby disqualified as an engineering officer of the watch. You will complete the entire qual card all over again and you will not stand watch in my engine room unless I’m right there with you, holding your fucking hand. Is that clear?”
Yi’s face visibly languished as he muttered a weak, “Yes, sir.” The ensign appeared completely dejected.
Lake even felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He knew how long and hard the engineering officer of the watch qualification was to obtain. It was a six-month task at least. To have to start all over and go back to the beginning would be disheartening, if not utter misery. Not to mention what the embarrassment would do to him in front of his men.
But he had been in Yi’s shoes once, Lake thought, three years ago, and no one had come to his aid. Thus any thoughts of speaking up on Yi’s account quickly dissolved and Lake chose to think about all the different ways he could pack his luggage for his flight out that evening.
Chapter 2
Providence rode on the surface like a giant whale heeled over on one side raising a single giant fin to the sky. She was not made to ride on the surface, but rather for the ocean depths where her long torpedo-like hull could cruise with ease. Unlike the smooth knife-like bow of a sleek destroyer, Providence’s rounded bow, when on the surface, wastefully plowed the water before it, leaving a stretching wake behind that could easily belong to a ship ten times her size. Her long cylindrical hull bobbed back and forth in both light and heavy seas and had the effect of turning more than a few stomachs, even those of the more experienced hands. A crewman need not look at the depth gauge to tell the ship was on the surface. The files of pallid sailors waiting in line outside the heads were indication enough.
The seas were light today, but Edwards still had to steady himself several times while he climbed the twenty-foot ladder leading up the narrow tunnel to Providence’s open bridge. The dank tunnel traversed the full height of the towering black sail and was filled with the aroma of the petroleum grease used to lubricate the assortment of masts and antennas housed there. Each cold steel ladder rung drew him closer to the open hatch. The first waft of the fresh ocean air revived his skin, banished from the natural elements for so long. Edwards grew closer to the open hatch above, climbing faster, anxious to see the sky above with his own eyes, and not through a periscope lens.