John embarked on the test with the confidence he had studied hard or at least had read everything required. The questions were answered, one by one, as carefully as possible. Several choices required a second or third thought. When he had finally reached the end, he could not believe just an hour and a half had gone by. He went over the answers a second time assuring himself he had marked the answer sheet correctly. The other men in the room were still working on their own tests when he handed his test in to the examiner. He rejoined Dad in the waiting room for the results.
“How did you do?” Dad smiled. “Did you pass?”
“I’m sure I did,” John said. “It was really an easy test. All my studying made it a simple exercise.”
“Here comes the officer now.” Dad almost beamed. “Now, for good news!”
“I’m sorry to say you’ll have to take the examination again,” the Coast Guard officer said bluntly. “You passed all parts except the Rules of the Road. You answered eight out of 10 correctly; we require nine out of 10. Sorry.”
“You mean to say I failed by one question?” John gasped and composed himself quickly. “When can I take the test again?”
“You won’t be able to take it again for two weeks,” the officer said. “Study hard and I’m sure you’ll make it.”
Dad said nothing, turned and headed out the building. John mutely followed. It was difficult facing failure in light of his father’s expectations. All summer he had planned to become an equal next to his father as a boat captain. Although he knew his father would not vocalize the disappointment, John knew instinctively how he must have felt at the moment. Dad was not the most expressive person in the world. He had a great sense of humor and an infectious laugh. As a practical joker no one could surpass him. But to try to find fear, disappointment and sadness he seemed to be a man of stone. More often than not, John had wondered what his father really felt. Now was a time to go back to the books, study harder, and return as soon as possible.
The next two weeks went by faster than anyone in the family supposed. Dad remained distant and aloof; Mom was steadfast encouraging that the next time would bring the long-awaited license. Studying the second time was actually more difficult than the first. First, there was the pressure to pass. The other difficulty was the nagging doubt that something important would be forgotten that would make the difference between passing and failing.
The drive back to the Coast Guard office was no different than the previous time. Although it was still early morning, it was extremely warm. John rolled down the car window in order not to perspire, but without success. He was nervous. Passing the written test was an absolute necessity if he was to please Dad. More than ever the captain’s license would become his badge of adulthood.
The same Coast Guard officer handed John the examination. There were three men taking tests in the room as before. As a passing thought, he wondered whether these were the same men he sat with the last time. Was the test so hard that it had to be taken over and over? Putting all extraneous thoughts aside he plunged into the test. He finished even faster than the first time and checked each answer carefully resisting the temptation to change his choices because he knew that the first answer picked was more often than not the correct one. When he turned in the answer sheet he knew he had done the best he could. The rest was now up to fate.
“I’m finished, Dad.” John rejoined Dad in the waiting room. “I think I passed this time.”
“We’ll see.” Dad paced the room emotionlessly.
John sat in an uncomfortable chair, selected a magazine and tried to read. Unfortunately, his mind was elsewhere and the magazine was little more than a prop intended to display confidence. The officer finally came and announced the results.
“You have passed,” the officer said flatly. “If you will sign this paper first, you can go next-door and take your eye exam.”
A chill went up and down John’s arms and back. He had made it! Dad smiled broadly with pride and slapped him on the back. The long-awaited license was now within grasp.
“How am I going to pass the eye exam?” John said softly. “I can’t see anything without my glasses.”
“We’ll see.” There was no telling what Dad was thinking.
John and Dad went into an office decorated the same as the first. After speaking briefly with the officer at the desk, they sat down to wait in turn to be tested.
“The hardest part is over,” Dad said. “I would not worry about this part. You and I have about the same eyes and I have my license. You can have glasses and a license.”
“I’ll do my best.” John was nervous. There was no way he wanted to fail Dad again even though he was now put in an impossible no-win situation. He was absolutely certain his vision was too poor to read even the top two lines of the eye chart. He did the only thing he could do and sunk into the depths of his own personal misery. All he wanted was to go home to Mom. She would make him feel better
“Young man,” a warm voice said. “Would you come with me?”
John was initially startled until he saw it was the officer calling him. The officer was the exact opposite of the one in the other office. This man was warm and friendly with a smile almost seeming to be permanently painted on his face. John composed himself and put down the magazine. Dad stood beside him.
“This will take just a few minutes,” the officer said. “But before we start, answer the questions on this sheet.”
The officer handed a clipboard with a medical questionnaire and motioned John to follow. John glanced at Dad with a nervous smile. Dad barely nodded his head. The final test was no longer to be avoided or delayed.
The examining room was nothing special. There was a desk, a couple of chairs, a bookcase with dusty books, several cabinets, and examining table and lastly the eye chart on one wall behind the desk. John was instructed to sit down and complete the questionnaire before the examination. The questions were basically ones he had answered multiple times before: name, age, address, education, etc. The officer left him alone in the room. John quickly answered the questions and sat waiting for the officer. He looked at the ominous eye chart staring at him from across the room. All the letters were clear down to the last line with his glasses on. He fervently wished he had been blessed with perfect vision, but it was too late.
“Are you finished?” The officer came in suddenly.
“Yes sir.” John held out clipboard.
“Have a seat and I’ll be back with you in a few minutes.” The officer smiled.
“Yes sir,” John said.
The room was gloomier. John sat uncomfortably unable to keep his eyes off the eye chart. If only I had perfect eyes, he wished over and over again. Being alone intensified his unease. It was going to be a sink or swim exercise where he was definitely going to drown. Where was he? Several minutes went by and the officer had not returned. There was an eerie silence. John continued to stare at the eye chart. He began reading each line beginning from the easiest topline to the bottom. Never more in his life had he wished for perfect vision. He narrowly cursed his glasses when he suddenly had an idea. If his eyes were not strong, perhaps his memory was. He looked at the series of letters more intently trying to ascertain patterns. Unfortunately, there were none and he was running out of time.
John took a deep breath, glanced at the door and began memorizing each line of the eye chart. One line after another he put to memory. Having memorized one line, he dropped to the next and then the next until he was sure he would pass. Before he had a chance to test his memory, the officer returned.
“Please stand on that line on the floor and look at the eye chart,” the officer said warmly. “First, I want you to take off your glasses.”
John almost froze at the request. He took a deep breath and removed his glasses, waiting for the test of his life.
“Read the smallest line you can, but first cover your right eye.”
“E, F, 7, G, 5...”
“Now the other eye and, yes,
cover your left eye first.”
“E, F, 7, G, 5...”
“Now the next line, lower.”
The first line brought him confidence and John relaxed. This was going to be easy. He read further and further down the chart until his memory failed momentarily. For some reason he could not remember the order of letters and numbers. He took a guess and held his breath.
“Very good...” The officer was unaware of his difficulty. “Except that you got the last letters reversed.”
Visions of failure gathered around John’s soul. Was this going to be another failure? Was his scheme to memorize the chart a mistake? How could he face his father with another failure?
“You pass, son.” The officer smiled and closed the records. “Your father is waiting for you.”
It worked, John screamed inside his head. He had bet on his memory and won. Now maybe he could stand tall next to his Dad. Better days were ahead!
“How did you do?” Dad said as John walked casually out into the waiting room.
“I passed!” John could barely restrain himself.
“Now you can take the boat out yourself.” Dad laughed. “Now I can really retire and get my rest.”
“Any time, Dad, any time.” John laughed. “When do I start?”
“Soon...” Dad laughed proudly. “Let’s go home and tell Mom the good news!”
As they left the Coast Guard office John glowed inside at his own personal accomplishment. Later, he would tell Dad how he really did it. Until that time, he would glory in Dad’s admiration. He was certain there would be more admiration once he confessed what he did.
“Let’s go, Dad.” John beamed. “I can hardly wait to tell Mom and Bill all about it!”
Wipe Out
The full moon slowly rose above the watery horizon. John watched with mounting anticipation of what he would finally see under ideal conditions. The cloudless sky dazzled him with a countless collection of stars. Sand crabs skittered across the beach at the water’s edge outlined by the ever growing moonlight. This was paradise, this was nowhere; this was just this. A warm breeze blew gently across the shore.
“I have lived for this moment,” John said softly. “I am…”
The words caught in his throat. For countless years he had talked about being in this spot with his brother. From the beginning, he and his brother shared a consummate love of the firmament and the sea. Where one was more comfortable in the sea, the other was in the sky. Each complemented the other, as right is best assisted with left.
“Where are you?” John choked.
The agony of separation weighed on his chest making it momentarily difficult to take a deep breath. The sensation passed quickly as he focused attention back on the face of the moon rising ever higher. He gazed through the telescope admiring the magnificent pattern of chaos caused so many eons ago. For once he felt unsure that being alone was wise. A shiver ran down his spine. Suppose this island was inhabited? His research told him no, but what was written was, more often than not, at odds with reality. The thought of hostile natives were replaced with noisy tourists, neither one helpful to ease his state of mind.
His wristwatch held the time, but he did not care what it was. The moment was near and there was no way he would miss it. Within arm’s reach was the telescope, camera and radio. As for any sort of weapon he merely had a fillet knife which served everything from kitchen utensil, serving implement and all-around tool.
Several days ago he sailed out by himself, setting course toward the southeast. The weather was fair with idle breezes pushing him toward this tropical paradise. A man against the sea is a man face-to-face with God. The awesome might of the ocean at a whim could send him to eternity. Days of basking in the sun went by thinking of the past. He glorified the present not worrying about the doubtful future, whatever that might be. John opened a small Bible to Psalms. “Those that go down to the sea in ships,” he said softly. He flashed back to the time when he had stood with his brother in front of the fisherman’s statue in Gloucester posing for a picture.
A large wave crept through the dark and crashed noisily on the beach. John turned toward the sound unsure of the meaning it presented. He scanned the dark watery horizon for signs of a boat passing nearby. The view remained unspoiled by any creation of man. He sighed heavily.
Alone, alone, alone, all alone, on a South Pacific island far from the madness and turmoil of civilization. As a child, reality disappeared in flights of imagination to far and impossible places. As an adult, a hard never-ending reality supplanted all the wondrous joys of childhood. That did not mean he did not fantasize, it was just that the world had changed, a hard world with unyielding demands and obligations. A child could never imagine what he felt. Regretfully, he shook his head he was unable to forget the present. On the other hand, he was grateful he would never forget the past.
The screech of a gull jogged him from remorse. He stretched his arms up to the moon, reaching forward as if he could grasp it in his hands. He narrowly lost his balance leaning forward. Regaining his equilibrium he smiled at his foolishness. The child within him would always be there.
He sat down on the sand facing the distant moon. Knees bent up to his chest, he grasped his legs placing his chin down. In the dark, he appeared like a rock on a distant shore. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The salty air was fresh and nearly cool. He smiled as a good thought appeared in his head.
So many summers ago he and his brother had shared one adventure after another. Invisible enemies and friends were sought frequently, followed by frogs, sharks and thrills. Together as a team, they grew up. Inseparable was the word everyone used to describe them. The years placed burdens on their closeness but never broke them asunder. The sciences drafted both in the quest for truth and even more ultimate thrills. The Nobel Prize was a real possibility. Fame and fortune were always secondary to the pleasure of discovery and true creation. They shared different niches in the cosmology of science yet they remained in touch with each other. Time could never undo the bond of blood and common experience.
Bill was gone. A brother lost to the maws of the unknown. Where he had gone was known. The only problem was he never came back. John shuddered, thinking about what may have happened. Cave diving was risky; he never thought Bill would disappear, never to appear again.
Days followed innumerable days after Bill disappeared. There was always an undying hope Bill would jump out of the shadows on a dark night shouting “Boo!” There was humor in everything. John was unable to think of what happened as a joke waiting for a punch line.
An orange green flame streaked across the sky. An omen of good luck for sure, he thought. The night was filled with a tense expectation of good things to come. First, the signs, then the events, whatever they might happen to be. He had been accused of wishing his life away, waiting for moments that would never come. His reply to the critics was simply never to say never, which was an old cliché but very applicable.
The scene grew unexpectedly dark as a lone cloud passed across the face of the moon. He stared at the obscuring offender examining the illuminated outline for another sign. When he realized there was none, he sighed and looked across the water: the sea, source of life, everywhere. Not only was the sea outside, it was also inside coursing through his body, bathing all his cells. The sea was truly within and without: water, water, everywhere, in and out. He smiled when he thought he might have water on the brain, hydrocephalus, a medical condition. No, it was a silly thought, besides hydrocephalus was nothing to laugh about. Most of the people so afflicted were children and more often than not suffered some degree of mental retardation. The smile slowly turned to a slight frown.
A flashing blue light appeared several miles offshore heading parallel with the shore. A submarine had surfaced for some reason. An even stranger thought crossed his mind, why would a submarine traveling in stealth advertise itself on the surface with a light that screamed “Hey everybody, here I am!”?
John
watched the progress of the flashing light as it moved out of sight. He wondered who those lonely men were that passed underwater in the night. Maybe his brother had joined them as a comrade of the deep. Maybe Bill was out there telling jokes about him standing on that tiny island waiting for the lunar eclipse of the century. Maybe they were all laughing at him as they pointed their periscope at him. Or, maybe he was just losing it. His thoughts were bringing him down. A tear escaped from the corner of the eye, cascading down his cheek. He wiped his eyes and sniffed loudly. This was no time to indulge in self-pity.
Submarines are a deep subject, he smiled. And submarines lead to submarine races which lead to erotic thoughts in an exotic spot. His mind ran from thought to thought, disjointed, out of time and place, like an old-time black and white movie. The more he tried to lose himself in his thoughts, the stronger the memories came back to haunt him.
“Stop!” He cried. “Stop it!”
The tears flowed accompanied by deep sobs. In some circles, a man never cries. If a man cries on a deserted island, is he crying? John stopped crying as quickly as he had started and laughed at the absurdity of his thoughts. His personal stream of consciousness was beginning to overflow its banks. Was he losing touch, isolated out here by himself? He was not sure.
His stomach growled; he had not eaten for almost 24 hours. Food had lost all meaning for a long time, other than to barely stay alive. Tonight he felt no different. The only difference was a sharp pang he knew meant either an ulcer or severe starvation. Reluctantly, he opened the pack of supplies for something to eat. By an effort of sheer will, he forced down a few morsels of canned meat on a slice of several day old bread. He followed the first tentative swallows with several gulps of Coke. At the moment, he rued his promise not to drink alcoholic anything. An ice cold lite beer would have been absolutely wonderful.
Alcohol, of course, had its dangers. At once a warm, satisfying friend, it had the propensity to turn like a neighbor’s initially friendly dog and bite. He was sure the decision to be abstinent was correct but there were exceptions.
Against the Sea: Tales On and Under the Sea Page 7