One Man's War Page 3

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I’ll go…” Tim said sheepishly.

  “No, please, I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I never thought I’d meet you, is all,” the woman gushed, and then smiled.

  “Ma’am, it’s okay, I understand,” Tim said with a smile he hoped would ease the situation.

  “Jimmy, he was a blessing. After everyone, died… I had given up hope. Then I met his father, and we met others. Then the pirate ship came, and well, you know the rest.”

  “I do. What’s this story he told me, about the Big Kahuna?”

  “Oh my!” she gasped, turning red.

  Tim laughed, “I never thought I’d be called the Big Kahuna. A big, well… other things,” he said, winking.

  “It’s just that Jimmy saw we were all worried, and then you came. You took care of the problem… Jimmy kept asking why we were so happy now.”

  “So I’m kind of like Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny rolled into one, huh?” “I’m so embarrassed!” she gushed, turning an even brighter shade of red.

  “No, I understand. Kids need to be kids for as long as possible. I’ve got one on the way myself,” Tim said proudly. “Holly is four months along now.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “I’m glad I can raise him or her up in a safer world than the one you and I grew up in.”

  “Yes, thanks to you, and for that we owe you everything.”

  It looked to Tim that the woman actually had tears in her eyes. He had to get out of here, get back to the house. He needed to talk things over with Holly.

  His mind was reeling on his way down to the water’s edge, and he started to walk briskly back in the direction he’d come earlier. The whole incident made his skin crawl, the way the woman gushed over him, the story the boy had been told.

  He’d been held in awe before, by young soldiers. With them, he’d put the fear of God into them, because to them he was God. A sergeant major staring down a private who’d just monumentally fucked up was God on Earth. This was way different.

  Tim peered at the setting sun, wondering where the day had gone. It seemed like only a few minutes ago that Holly had come into the bedroom with a fresh cup of coffee, breakfast, then the conversation with Jerry, his walk on the beach… and then there was this, this bizarre little meeting, first with the boy, then with his mother. It was almost as if…

  No! Stop it, Timmy boy! His mind screamed.

  He remembered now, after he was well enough to get off the ship, and Jerry had found the little bungalow for them to live in, on the occasions that he’d been out and about, which were few and far between, he’d noticed people would see him, and stop what they were doing, looking at him with… was it awe? He even remembered now that some of the men would take off their hats in his presence.

  He finally reached the palm tree where he’d removed his boots earlier. He noticed with some relief that lights were on in the house, and he plodded up to the back door with leaden feet. He could hear the sounds of laughter coming from inside, then he heard Robyn squeal with delight and he smiled.

  He left his boots outside next to the door and entered the house, went straight to the kitchen, and retrieved a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. He tossed the cap into the garbage can and followed the sounds of laughter into the living room, where he found Holly, Robyn, and Jimenez. The latter were seated close to one another, holding hands, and when they saw Tim, quickly released their grip and moved apart slightly.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing anything,” he said with a tired grin, taking a pull off the bottle.

  “Oh, Tim, I wondered where you’d gotten to! I was telling Juan how you and I first met,” Holly said, coming over to him and giving him a kiss. “You look tired, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m alright. The story about how we first met, huh? The very first time?” he said with a sly grin. “Damn near got a general Court Martial for that little escapade,” Tim added, collapsing into a lounge chair.

  “Shit, Sar’ Major, I can believe you would have shot her down,” Jimenez said.

  “I would have, Taco, believe me,” he replied. “I hear you’ve found our ride out of here.”

  “That I have, Sar’ Major. I’ve got to swap engines, but I should have it airworthy in a month or so, with a little help,” Jimenez said.

  “Good, the sooner, the better.”

  “Dad, what’s wrong?” Robyn asked, her voice tense with concern.

  Holly had taken a seat on the arm of the chair that Tim was sitting in, and put her hand on the back of his neck.

  “Yes, there’s something wrong. I can hear it in your voice,” Holly said, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

  “It’s nothing, just tired from the long walk I took. I need to get some supper and get to bed early is all,” he said with a sigh, closed his eyes, and leaned back. “Taco, go out and get my pipe from the front porch, would you?”

  “Sure thing,” Jimenez said, jumping up to comply.

  “Really, I’m okay,” Tim assured them. “I need to eat something and get to bed, nothing more.”

  “Alright then, c’mon, Holly, let’s make some dinner,” Robyn said, getting up and taking Holly by the hand.

  “Are you sure you’re alright, babe?” Holly asked.

  “I’m fine,” Tim said, with a hint of irritation.

  Okay, lover,” she said, bent down, and kissed him on top of his head. “I see how it is. I’m now relegated to the kitchen with the rest of the womenfolk,” she called back after him jokingly on her way to the kitchen.

  “I heard that!” Tim yelled out. He settled into his chair and Juan came back in, carrying his pipe. Tim filled the bowl up, tamping it with his thumb. He struck a wooden match and lighted the pipe, puffing several times until his head was engulfed in a blue cloud of tobacco smoke.

  He looked at Juan with an icy stare that he let go on for what felt like hours to Jimenez, who was sitting warily on the couch across from Tim. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and he fidgeted until Tim finally spoke.

  “So what’s the story?”

  “Sir, I mean Sar’ Major, I need to swap out two engines on one bird, then change out some of the avionic—”

  “That’s not what I was referring to, Lance Corporal,” Tim cut in.

  “Oh, you mean that,” Juan sighed, his bowels loosening and the color draining from his face.

  “Yes, I mean that,” Tim said with a cold stare that would freeze an Aleut’s heart.

  “Look, Sar’ Major, Robyn and I like each other, and—”

  “And what?” Tim snapped, leaning forward with an evil smile crossing his face.

  “My intentions are honorable,” Juan spat out, about ready to shit himself.

  “Relax. I know,” Tim said, his voice softening a little, “I have to say this, though, Taco. She’s an adult, yes, but she’ll always be my little girl, got that?”

  “I’m reading you loud and clear, sir,” Jimenez said, voice trembling.

  “Good, just as long as we have that straight between us, we’ll get along splendidly,” Tim said with a grin. “If you hurt her, you break her heart? I will fuck you up so badly it’ll hair-lip your great grandchildren,” Tim promised coldly.

  “Aye, Aye, Sar’ Major!” Jimenez exclaimed, all color draining from his face.

  “Now get the fuck outta my sight, and go help them fix supper,” Tim said in a low growl. He leaned back into the easy chair, puffing away at his pipe, glaring evilly through a cloud of blue smoke.

  Jimenez all but erupted from his seat on the couch and bolted for the kitchen. When he was gone, Tim laughed silently to himself.

  “He’s a good kid,” he said to no one, and sat back and puffed on his pipe.

  Robyn and Holly made a light dinner of soup and spam sandwiches, something that there was no fear of running out of in Hawaii. After they ate, Robyn and Juan washed up while Holly and Tim retired to their bedroom. They undressed and c
rawled into bed, and Holly laid her head on Tim’s chest.

  They lay there without a word for several minutes. There was a tap on the door, and then it opened slightly and Robyn stuck her head in. “Dad, I’m going to down to the beach with Juan. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay,” Tim said, then as an afterthought, added, “Oh, and Robyn?”

  “Yes, Dad?”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “I know. Thanks!” she said with a big grin, shutting the door.

  “He’s frightened silly of you, do you realize that?” Holly said, playfully slapping Tim on the arm.

  “Yeah, I know. I hope it keeps him on his toes, and honest.”

  “Did you really threaten to hairlip his grandchildren?”

  “No. I said I’d fuck him up so badly his great grandchildren would be hairlipped,” Tim said, playing with Holly’s long, thick, red hair.

  Holly giggled. “You are so horrible.”

  Tim sighed, gathering his thoughts, then proceeded to tell Holly about his conversation with Jerry, his long walk, and his chance meeting with young Jimmy and his mother. When he was done, she lay there silently for a time, going over in her mind what he’d just conveyed to her.

  “I knew there was something bothering you,” she said eventually.

  “I wanted to talk to you about it, alone,” he said.

  “Aye, now that you mention it, people here do seem a bit queer. And the whole Big Kahuna thing, I can see how it would make you uncomfortable.”

  “Babe, I don’t want to be anyone’s leader. It creeps me out that some of these folks are starting to think of me as some divine character. I want to get us back home to Arizona. Raise our child and let us grow old together, nothing more, nothing less,” Tim said to the ceiling. “So you’re all for us getting out of here?”

  “As soon as Jimenez gets the bird fixed up, we’ll fly home. Have you asked Jerry to come with us?”

  “No, not yet, I’ve got a feeling he’ll stay here.”

  “Aye, I think so too,” Holly said. “Turn out the light would you, love?”

  Tim reached over to the bedside lamp and switched it off, blacking out the room. He could feel Holly’s hand on his thigh now, inching up.

  “And now, Sergeant Major, the only Big Kahuna that’s on my mind is this,” she said playfully, caressing his inner thigh, reaching higher until she found what she was looking for.

  Tim sighed. “You are so naughty, Flight Leftenant…”

  Chapter 2: Hail to the Chief

  Over the next several weeks, through his walks on the beach and other exercising, Tim was gradually regaining his strength. Thankfully, he never saw the young boy or his mother again. The meeting that day had left him feeling quite uncomfortable. With the help of Holly, Robyn, and several men from the local area, Jimenez had finally had gotten the C130 Hercules in flying condition.

  Tim sat in the shade of a hangar at Hickam Air Force Base, sipping on a warm can of Coke and watching with a bit of trepidation as the large aircraft taxied towards the end of the runway. Holly was at the controls, Jimenez and Robyn her passengers.

  He couldn’t help but be gravely worried, and kept having visions of it crashing and burning, taking with it the three people in his life he cared most for, not to mention his unborn child.

  The sun was bright on this clear morning, not a cloud to be seen. He set the can of soda down next to him and held his breath as the matte gray painted plane stopped and pivoted 180 degrees and then roared up to full power, and began to roll down the runway. It gained speed, and then halfway down, virtually leapt into the air at almost a 45 degree angle, landing gear going up into its stowed position.

  It climbed for a thousand or so feet in altitude, leveled off, and banked sharply to the left and made a wide turn, passing out of sight. He let out his breath and leaned back onto the wall of the hangar, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. He sat there for a few more minutes until he could no longer hear the sound of the engines.

  Now all he had to do was sit and wait until they get back. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and saw a familiar figure walking towards him. Tim didn’t bother to stand, and watched the figure approach, sipping his Coke.

  “Sergeant Major Flannery?” the man asked when he was within earshot.

  “That’s me,” Tim said.

  “Sergeant, you might remember me, I’m Ensign Johnson. I was wondering if I might have a word with you?”

  “I remember you, Mr. Johnson. Pardon me if I don’t stand, I’m not feeling all that military today, so we’ll eschew all the protocol,” Tim stated in a tone that let the Ensign know exactly how he felt about officers.

  “That’s quite alright, eh. Like I said, I want to talk to you for a few minutes,” Johnson said a little uncomfortably.

  “Pull up a piece of tarmac, Ensign. What can I do for you?” The ensign sat down next to Tim. “First off, I want to thank you for letting us come with you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I was slightly preoccupied with dealing with your Captain Kangaroo the last time we met. Thank Staff Sergeant Williams.”

  “I already have. I thought I ought to thank you, too. You could have left us on that atoll, and I couldn’t have blamed you if you had.”

  “That was slick, you putting that grenade in the chopper’s fuel tank like that,” Tim said in muted admiration.

  Johnson smiled a little at that remark, and realized it was as close to a compliment as he’d get from the sergeant major. He’d gotten the same treatment from some of the old grizzled Master Chiefs on the ship before the Event.

  He nodded. “I saw it in a movie. I wasn’t sure if it would work or not, I just thought I should do something.”

  “It was a good move. How’s that boy of yours?”

  “He’s up and around. Your doctor did a great job. I already thanked him. Mary thanks you too.”

  “I couldn’t just let a kid’s dad die. Mary was quite convincing, telling me you were an okay guy. I think that’s the main reason I didn’t put a bullet in your melon when you showed up. You should thank her, too,” Tim replied, finishing his Coke, and with one hand, crushed the can.

  “She means the world to me,” Johnson said, looking away. “They both do.”

  “I know what you mean,” Tim said, looking up at the sky, wishing the Hercules would return. “I’ll ask again: what’s on your mind? I know you didn’t come all the way out here to chitchat about old times.”

  “I want to come back to the mainland with you. Not only me; Mary and Billy, Petty Officer Suplee, and Mr. Nakamura want to come too.”

  “Do you now?” Tim asked. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his pipe, filling it with fresh tobacco. “Why’s that?”

  “The SS Jeremiah O’Brian,” Johnson stated.

  “What might that be?”

  “It’s a Liberty Ship from World War Two. It’s been completely restored, and it’s now, or was, I should say, an operating museum ship,” Johnson said, becoming animated.

  “Where is it now?”

  “San Francisco.”

  “So you want us to drop you off in ‘Frisco?” Tim asked, a little incredulously.

  “No, nothing like that. We’d go to wherever you’re going, and make our way to California from there.”

  Tim fetched a wooden match from another pocket, struck it on the ground and lit his pipe, puffing several times until the bowl was lighted. He blew out the match then looked at Ensign Johnson.

  “Okay, we get you to the mainland. Then what’s your plan?” he asked, already knowing part of it from what Jerry had told him weeks ago, but he wanted to hear it from the man himself.

  “It’s supposed to be fully restored to exactly the way it was when it rolled down the ways in 1943. Whatever electromagnetic pulse that fried all of the other electronics shouldn’t have harmed anything on it.”

  “Go on,” Tim prodded.

  “Me, Suplee, and Nakamura want to fire up the boilers and see if we
can sail it.”

  “And then what?”

  “Sergeant Williams is getting civilization started back up here, and I figure you’ll probably do the same thing back in the States. I’d provide a trade route of a sort, between there and here, and maybe the rest of the Pacific,” he said excitedly.

  “It’s been over six years. What if it’s sitting at the bottom of the bay? Or it broke its moorings at some point and was set adrift, washed up on the rocks of Alcatraz, or wrapped around one of the stanchions of the Bay Bridge? Have you thought about that, and what your options are, if that’s the case?” Tim asked, cocking his patrol cap back on his head, and puffing on his pipe.

  “I’d still like to take that chance, Sar’ Major. Both me and Suplee actually like being sailors, what happened on the Hughes notwithstanding, and it would beat sitting around. We’d like to be productive,” he stated with resignation.

  “What about your woman and kid?”

  “I want them to come too. They’ll sail everywhere with us. I never want to leave them on shore ever again.”

  Tim stood, followed by Johnson. He cocked his head slightly when he heard the sounds of the Hercules returning. The turboprop engines grew louder and louder, but try as they might, neither man could locate the plane in the sky.

  Then the plane appeared over the hangar at what appeared to be a ridiculously low altitude, going way too fast. The plane headed off, gained a little altitude, and banked in a wide turn, heading right for the end of the runway. Neither could see the landing gear lower, and it looked as though Holly was going to belly-flop in onto the airstrip.

  Tim’s breath caught in his throat as the Hercules came over the threshold and then leveled off. It then dawned on Tim that Holly was having a bit of fun, and he smiled. The C130 screamed down the runway at full power, barely fifty feet off the deck. At the end of the strip, the Hercules again leapt into the air, and circled the base. They watched Holly finesse the plane until it reached the threshold again, this time the landing gear coming down and locking into place.

  With a puff of white smoke, the rear wheels kissed the concrete runway and seconds later the nose wheel did the same. It rolled down the runway, then they heard the engines scream when Holly reversed the pitch on the props, bringing the cargo aircraft to a rapid stop. She spun the fuselage around as if on a pivot, and taxied down to where they were standing.