Curds and Whey Box Set

by G M Eppers

  “Couldn’t sleep, son?” It was Captain Dergunderhoeven. “Saw you from the bridge.” He pointed straight up to an upper level of the Island. “Happened to look straight down.” He looked straight up, reassessing the angle. “More or less.” His attention returned to me. “You okay?”

  I remembered how upsetting it was to hear Major McGrone call me “son.” It was different with Captain Dergunderhoeven. I didn’t mind it at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. “I just needed a little air. It’s kind of cramped below.”

  “May I?” He had walked to my other side and indicated the next space on the deck. When I didn’t object, he sat near me in the golden haze of the ship’s running lights, also putting his feet over the edge and casually grasping the top rail. It wasn’t something I expected an aircraft carrier captain to do. “Listen, I think I know what you just did, and I want you to know, it’s all right.”

  “Sir?”

  “Who was it?” His voice was quiet and gentle. I didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t really need a confidant. His gaze moved out to the dark water. “Whoever it is, they won’t be alone. I’ve put two wives, a son, and four dogs out here.” That could so easily be misunderstood. I almost laughed a little. My expression must have made him rethink his words. “Not all at once. Over almost thirty years. Doesn’t seem that long, though. You?”

  “It’s my mother, sir.”

  “Oh, I see.” He nodded, as if he’d suspected and was confirming it to himself. “Of course. I should have known. I read your file, Mr. Montana. You have quite an impressive record for someone so young. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you trading in command for Transportation Specialist?”

  “The file didn’t explain that?”

  “No.”

  Something out in the water made a splash and I heard the distinctive call of a bottlenose dolphin. I was disappointed that I couldn’t see it. The call was answered by a couple of others, then there was just the sound of the waves against the hull again. He had at least two wives, I told myself. He’ll understand. “I fell in love with one of my teammates,” I said, not clarifying that she was a twin, let alone a conjoined twin. “I want to marry her, and if I took a command posting, they’d separate us.”

  “Ah,” he said in a tone that indicated agreement. “I see.”

  “While I’m doing this, she is using her spare time to plan the wedding. It’s a big deal in her family. I just hope we can find the time.”

  “Son, let me tell you about my marriages.” His head jerked toward me, “If you don’t mind? I won’t force it on you.” The running lights reflected in his blue-gray eyes, making them sparkle like the stars. When I nodded consent, he continued, “My first wife proposed to me. We were married by a chaplain while I was in a hospital bed in Qatar. Still have some of the shrapnel in my lower back. Too close to the spinal column to remove it. I said my vows lying on my stomach while she lay on the floor next to the bed, in her wedding dress, so we could see each other face-to-face. Drunk driver took her from me five years later. He died in prison, shivved by his cellmate.

  “Anyway, the second time was her first, so, like your fiancée, she planned a spectacle. I was getting a leave of absence and we were to honeymoon in Fiji. We were at the church, I was in my tuxedo, she was in a strapless wedding dress, and there was a massive power outage. The minister read the service by candlelight and his book caught fire, causing him to drop it onto the carpet, where dried grasses in a flower arrangement also started to burn. Everyone got out of the chapel on time, but it burned to the ground and we finished the ceremony in the back of the rescue squad on the way to the hospital with two EMTs for witnesses. We weren’t hurt, but the minister was suffering from smoke inhalation. I was married to her for fourteen years and have three daughters. She and my son both died in childbirth six days before our fifteenth anniversary.”

  “I’m so sorry, sir.”

  He waved away my pity. “It’s history. Do you see what I’m saying here?”

  “I think so.” Somewhere out there, the dolphins surfaced again briefly. “Value the time you have. Don’t get caught up in the festivities because that’s only one day.” I stared down into the water I couldn’t see, thinking of the handful of ash I’d thrown. Where was it now? Under the aircraft carrier? Stuck to a dolphin? Inside a shark? Or just settling to the bottom to mix with the sand and corals? “Are you saying we shouldn’t plan a big wedding? Give it up and find a Justice of the Peace?”

  “Not necessarily. But at least one of you needs to be prepared to deal with disappointment.” I was going to tell him we both were, but he didn’t let me. “Oh, you may think you are. You know the hazards of your job. You know the odds are against you. Your line of work, you both understand academically that plans like that are risky, but take my word. Your fiancée BELIEVES it will happen according to plan. Her plan. Every step of the way. One mistake. One tiny thing out of place, and she’s going to take it as a sign from God.”

  “Avis is an atheist.” Actually, I wasn’t entirely sure. We’d never talked about religion specifically. It seems there was Judaism in her family, but she clearly isn’t Jewish. She ate pork. And the only Yiddish she knows, as far as I can tell, is chutzpah. And kez, which is cheese. In our business, we know the word cheese in pretty much every language. I think Mom knew the word for bathroom in most languages, too. It’s all about priorities. “And she’s not like that.”

  “Son,” Dergunderhoeven said as he began to extricate himself from the railing. “All women are like that.” Awkwardly, he managed to stand without falling off the ship. “Both of them tried to back out, convinced it wasn’t meant to be. It took some precious time to change their minds.”

  I stood up as well, feigning a little bit of incoordination so as not to show off my agility too much. “How did you get them to agree? You know, just in case.”

  There was a congenial silence for a few moments. Finally, with a crooked smile, Dergunderhoeven said, “Let me just say, you won’t see what’s under murky water unless you make waves.” What is that supposed to mean? I thought. “Well, son. It’s getting late. I believe you have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He leaned toward me. “Drop the sir, please. You are not under my command. Call me Werner. And don’t worry. Confidentially, Bobby is the best instructor on this bucket. Don’t tell him I said that. It’ll go to his head.”

  Just then, a loudspeaker mounted far over our heads squealed on. “Captain to the Bridge, please. Captain to the Bridge.”

  Dergunderhoeven looked up as if he could possibly see the bridge from here. There were so many oddly arranged deck extensions above us it looked like a giant metallic scarecrow trying to do the splits. “Duty calls. Good luck, son.”

  It was an innocent remark, but it gave me a chill that was definitely out of place in the 80 degree night air. Good luck? Shouldn’t it be ‘break a leg?’ I looked around in vain for something wooden to knock on, thanked the Captain, and returned to my quarters, where Bobby was snoring softly with one leg hanging down from the top bunk. I nudged him toward the wall, gently using his dangling leg as a lever. After stripping down to my boxers and wrapping the pants around all the smaller pieces of clothing, including the pack containing what remained of my mother’s ashes, and covering that with my CURDS jacket, I climbed into bed.

  As I was drifting off, I remembered what Mom had told me about McGrone being henpecked. I hadn’t spent much time with him, but someone that military didn’t seem like the type. I got out my phone and plugged his name into Google to see what I could find out. His personal life was murky, like the waters Dergunderhoeven had mentioned, and I intended to make some waves. As far as McGrone went, it eventually all fell into place. I didn’t know what to do about it, but I knew that the next time I had to deal with him I wouldn’t have any trouble.

  Chapter Three

  I was awakened the next morning with a strong shove and Bobby speaking loudly into my ear. “Up and at
‘em, Montana!”

  I opened one eye, the other blocked by my pillow. Bobby was fully dressed in his Navy uniform. “What time is it?” He had turned on the overhead light, which seemed blinding enough for an interrogation. I sat up, shielding my eyes with one hand until they adjusted.

  “Past five bells, Montana. Let’s go. Breakfast in the mess, then up on deck in thirty.”

  I didn’t complain. I started putting my clothes on, pulling a clean shirt out of the bag, slipping into my jeans and zipping up.

  “Are those the only clothes you have?” Bobby asked.

  I looked down at myself. “Pretty much. Jeans are very versatile.”

  “Trust me. You’re going to want to get some shorts.” He was wearing long pants himself, but they were lightweight nylon. “Find the ship store on your map and check it out. It’s marked with a dollar sign.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But if you think this is bad, you should see my team mate, Roxy. She’s wears an evening gown every day. I’ve never figured out why.” I pulled the plain, black shirt over my head. “I think because she sometimes gets called to go to court, but it’s not that often and I’m sure the judge doesn’t care if she’s not dressed to the nines. But we let her suit herself. It doesn’t seem to interfere.”

  As I started to put on the sub-shoulder pack, Bobby stopped me. “Better leave that here. You wear that and yo mama goin’ get all wet.” I finished the equation and realized it meant I was going to get wet today, and that was why the jeans were a bad idea. They were going to feel like lead after a while. Nevertheless, I hesitated before putting the pack down. He dropped the dialect that he’d put on to lighten the mood and added, “Don’t worry. It’ll be safe here. You don’t last long on a boat like this if you don’t respect people’s privacy.” I wrapped the bag in my dirty shirt from yesterday and left it on the foot of the bed. He closed the door as we left, but there was no lock. There was a hasp to slip a padlock onto, but no padlock. “These are all personnel quarters. Closed is all we need.” I had to trust him. He was my instructor and according to Captain Dergunderhoeven he was the best. It still gave me an uneasy feeling leaving it behind after having worn it every day for two full weeks.

  On the way to the mess, we stopped at a bathroom AKA head, and I noticed my heavy shadow of a beard in the mirror. Bobby told me I could shave later. At the mess, Bobby had a pile of scrambled eggs, which I avoided. It’s pretty common to add milk to eggs to fluff them up when feeding a large number of people and I’ve made that mistake before. I had a bagel with boysenberry jam, an apple juice, and some bacon instead.

  By six bells we were up on the deck. The sky to the east was a hazy pink and orange, and the ball of the sun was peeking over the horizon. Groups of people were already gathered here and there as the various training groups went about their business. An Army squad was doing calisthenics. A group of Marine trainees stood at attention in front of their instructor who was reading from a clipboard in a booming voice just far enough away from me to make the words indistinguishable. A dozen sailors, dressed in white, were being led to their training area. Out on the water, the Coast Guard cutter floated about a hundred yards away, dripping a string of buoys like bread crumbs. I was sure Evan, Marge, and Rachel were on deck with their instructors as well, but I didn’t see them. Bobby didn’t give me a lot of time to look around.

  He took me all the way aft, where a team of Navy servicemen and women were just winching a kayak onto the deck. They wore shiny black shoes, black pants, and crisp, tan shirts. One of them handed me a floppy rubber vest. “Put that on,” Bobby said. I slipped it over my head and Bobby showed me how to adjust the straps.

  “Is this supposed to be a life jacket? It seems kind of flimsy.”

  “Inflatable,” he said, tightening a strap around my waist. “If you capsize, it will inflate automatically. Don’t panic. Because you will capsize.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, climb in.”

  I looked at the bright orange kayak as it sat on the deck and thought perhaps Bobby had forgotten something very important. “Shouldn’t it be in the water?”

  “Good question!” Bobby pointed at his nose and then at me. “Um…no. Not yet. We have to adjust the seat to fit you, and I need to make sure your legs are strong enough. You know you have to sit with your legs straight out in front the whole time. That’s not as easy as it sounds. And those jeans are going to make it harder. Just so you know.”

  I looked down at my pants. They were relatively lightweight for denim, but I imagined them wet. “I don’t exactly have my full wardrobe available. Can I have a few minutes to stretch?”

  Bobby gave me the okay and I started a routine of stretching, beginning with sitting down on the deck with my lower legs bent behind me. As I limbered up, I heard the synchronized pounding of two dozen feet as the Army squad came jogging past us. The drill sergeant barked out each line of a cadence for the men to repeat back as they went.

  Running here and running there

  Run too much and you hit air

  Keep in mind you’re on a boat

  And stupid people never float

  After that, they did the sound off and counting as their voices drifted away from us. I spent a few mental moments trying to figure out what the length of one circuit of the deck was and how it would compare to the track I normally jogged back at HQ. I hadn’t thought about HQ in so long, I’d kind of forgotten what it even looked like. So I closed my eyes and imagined myself there, in the backyard, thinking of where each piece of equipment would be as I worked my way up through my muscle groups to loosen them all up. After some head rolls to smooth out my neck muscles, I was ready to climb into the kayak.

  The bottom of the kayak was flat at least the width of a human body, so I was in no danger of tipping over as I slid first one leg inside and then the other. It was a snug fit, and on my first try I couldn’t straighten out my second leg until I pushed myself up and back a bit. Once I was seated, Bobby stuck his hands inside the hole as well to check my position. One of the Navy men then brought over a circular piece of neoprene rubber and handed it to Bobby. “This is called the spray skirt. It keeps the water out of the boat so you don’t sink.” He showed me how to put it on, then took it off again and had me do it. It fit very tight, slipping over the rim of the cockpit like a Tupperware lid.

  Next, he handed me the double ended paddle and explained various methods of using it and what it would do to the tilt and direction of the kayak. I listened intently, but I was impatient to get out on the water. Sitting here on the deck was making me feel silly. I’d seen some of the larger craft lowered on their winches some time ago.

  “How are your legs feeling?” Bobby asked me.

  I replied automatically. “Fine.” Only after I’d said it did I realize that they were, in fact, starting to feel cramped. It’s not as easy as it sounds to sit with your legs straight out. Perhaps a smaller person, with more leg room to wiggle around in, would do better, but my long legs pretty much filled the space. I was glad I had the back support. Well, I thought, fine it would be then. It’s just a minor discomfort. I could take it.

  “Any questions?”

  I shook my head. While he’d been asking me these last two questions, the Navy “pit crew” had fastened ropes to each end of the kayak, and I was expecting to be winched down to the water. Instead, Bobby raised one arm and waved it in a horizontal circle. Suddenly, the King Stallion helicopter roared to life, its front and rear rotors quickly getting up to speed. I saw that the ropes attached to my kayak snaked toward the helicopter, and the other ends were secured to the struts. I shouted a question to Bobby, but the rotors made too much noise. I couldn’t even hear my own voice. Bobby stepped back and smiled slyly at me, waving a quick goodbye and accepting a set of binoculars from one of his crew.

  The helicopter lifted me in the kayak up into the air and flew me over to the area the Coast Guard had roped in with buoy lines
. The cutter was less than a hundred yards away. A couple recruits, a Chief Petty Officer, and a Commander were standing on the deck watching me, ready to spring into action if needed. I gulped, hoping not to embarrass myself. The kayak settled on the water and the slack allowed the ropes to disengage. The buoy lines had marked out a mostly rectangular space about the length and breadth of a football field. I put the left hand paddle into the water and spun the rod around like a pinwheel, propelling the kayak forward. I picked up a decent amount of speed, then reversed the paddle to slow as I approached the end of the area, performing a sweep stroke on the right to make the boat turn. I thought I was doing pretty well, but a water swell came up just as I was completing the turn and I knew I was about to be underwater.

  I took a deep breath, remembering Bobby’s instructions not to panic. I focused on not dropping the paddle to the bottom of the ocean. He’d also told me how to swing my hips back and forth inside the kayak to make the roll keep going, but I didn’t push hard enough because the thing settled firmly upside down. The water pressure triggered the CO2 cartridge in the life vest and it inflated rapidly, making it much easier. I only had to get a little swing going before the buoyancy pulled me mostly upright, then I was bobbing sideways, but able to breathe. Two Coast Guard officers in wetsuits were right there, pulling the kayak upright from both ends. I came out of the water with a sputter, both hands still on the shaft of the paddle. One of my rescuers pounded the kayak. “If you didn’t drop the paddle, you did good. That swell was pretty big. It would have knocked me over. You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said. The boat had turned around, and I was facing a straight path back to my starting point. They backed off and let me go and I proceeded to paddle around for another fifteen minutes, turning successfully, though awkwardly, several times, with Bobby watching my every move from the deck with binoculars. By then, my arms and legs were really feeling the strain. I motioned to the Guard and told him that I needed a break. I heard the helicopter start up again and when the ropes splashed into the water near me, the two Guard trainees hooked them to the ends of the kayak and I was lifted back up onto the Ike.