Greek Island

by Druga, Jacqueline

  Ellen shook her head and moved against me.

  I took her tightly in my arms, bringing her up and into me, readying to deliver a better kiss. My insides swirled with nervousness and excitement. I swore she felt my heart beating as her chest pressed to mine.

  “Hal?” she whispered. “You’re not thinking of Margot’s breasts right now, are you?”

  I laughed and after that laugh, I pulled Ellen in and kissed her the way I felt I should and the way I wanted to.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It wasn’t supposed to go that way, not at least at first. An intimate kiss, embracing …in short, Ellen and I made love.

  Neither of us would call it earth shattering, mind blowing sex. But it was deeply fulfilling and emotionally resurrecting.

  We fell asleep in my room, on my bunk, latched in a tight cuddle in a small space.

  I was dreaming of the encounter, reliving it in my mind when my alarm went off. Before I opened my eyes, I thought of how I didn’t want to wake Ellen and I reached to shut off the alarm.

  Ellen was gone.

  I can’t even begin to tell you the thoughts that raced through my mind. Forefront was the fact that she may have regretted what occurred. I got out of bed, cleaned up, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and headed to the cafeteria. Figuring, I’d get my coffee and wits about me, then seek out Ellen. If only to find out why she departed without saying goodbye.

  The cafeteria contained about only half the people it usually did. I figured as much, the partying crowd was sleeping in and hung over.

  Visually evident was my father. He sat at a table by himself, sipping on coffee and rubbing his temples. He didn’t look pleasant. I grabbed my coffee and cup of oatmeal and headed his way.

  “Hey, ya’ Captain,” Mary Agnes gave me a pat to my back. “Heck of a party last night. Ya’ missed the end.”

  “How are you feeling?” I asked her.

  “If you mean, am I hung over. Nope. Doesn’t happen. I was married and in the military my whole life. Can drink like a fish. Oh, oatmeal. Great. Helps with regularity.”

  I winced, but smiled as she went to the line.

  “May I sit here?” I asked my father. “Or are you wanting to be alone.”

  He waved me to sit. “Don’t expect much conversation.”

  “I won’t.”

  Half way through my oatmeal, Ellen walked into the cafeteria with Henry. She waved. A good sign. They sat at the table behind us. Not a good sign. Excusing myself from my father, I sat at their table.

  “Henry,” I said. “Can I have a moment alone with Ellen?”

  “I’m sitting here, Hal.”

  “I know. Can you sit with my father?”

  Henry leaned to the right examining my father. “No. He’s looks mean.”

  My father then said, “I don’t need Henry to sit with me right now. I’m not in the mood.”

  “See.” Henry said. “Go on talk. I won’t listen.”

  I huffed. Ellen giggled, and I leaned closer. “What happened to you?”

  “When?” she asked.

  “Last night. This morning. Whatever. You left without saying goodbye.”

  I noticed Henry’s eyes shift to us. I gave a scolding glance.

  “Hal,” Ellen chuckled my name. “What did you expect me to do?”

  “Um ... stay in bed.”

  She laughed again. “It was very crowded. I’m sorry. You needed your rest. We didn’t get much sleep.”

  “Oh, my God,” Henry said. “Did you guys …”

  “Henry,” I snapped. “Eat your breakfast. The oatmeal will make you regular.”

  “Oh, that’s gross. That’s private.”

  “So is this conversation,” I said.

  “Fine.” He returned to his meal.

  “Hal,” Ellen smiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind. We aren’t very far away.”

  “Just … tell me you aren’t feeling awkward or regretting.”

  She shook her head. “No. Not at all. Looking even more forward to our reading nights.” She winked.

  A wink. Great sign. Then she kissed me on the cheek. Even better sign.

  “I’ll let you eat. I’ll stop by and talk to you later.” I stood up.

  “I’d like that.”

  I reached down, gently resting my hand on her shoulder before leaving. I was almost to the door when my father called my name.

  “Got a minute?” he asked.

  “Absolutely, what’s up?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. What’s going on, Hal?”

  “I don’t know what you mean?”

  My father turned his head, looked at Ellen, then returned to me. “You know exactly what I mean.”

  “Dad, look, things have been progressing with Ellen. I know it sounds soon.”

  My father shook his head and placed his hands in his pockets. “The time line doesn’t concern me.”

  “It’s fine, then. Actually. Good.”

  “Uh-huh,” He nodded. “And uh, what exactly are you gonna do when Frank arrives.”

  That question took me aback. “Dad, when Frank gets here? Do you know something I don’t?”

  “I feel it. Trust me. I feel it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, then. I would think Frank would be glad for me and Ellen.”

  “Christ, Hal, you aren’t that dumb.”

  “They’re best friends,” I said.

  “Yeah, sure. You know better. We’ve all known better for the last fourteen years.”

  I sighed out heavily. “I don’t want to sound pessimistic, but Frank returning, and arriving here… I just …” Pausing, I gathered my words. I didn’t want my father to think I doubted my brother’s survival. “I know you’re concerned about Frank’s feeling regarding this if he returns.”

  “No, Hal, I’m worried about you. You know how those two are.”

  My nod was my agreement. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Will you?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  That was all that was said, a few exchange of glances and then a goodbye, I was on my way to my daily duties. I didn’t think ill of my father’s speaking to me regarding the matter. He was being a father. Although my response probably wasn’t what he wanted. It was the best one I could give and the only one I could think of.

  I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.

  Knowing how slim the chances were of my brother even being alive, I knew it was a bridge more than likely I would never have to cross.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A mere three weeks, the first of November and so much had changed.

  Something happened in the world outside our little camp. People were getting smarter.

  In that short period of time we had heard from four other communities across the country. I wasn’t sure if it was Henry’s tweaking of the radio or their awakening and calling out. Either way we were making daily contact, and grew hopeful of other people.

  The day would come where we would all meet up. The day would come when the radiation dropped enough to live outside.

  The rounds for water and retrievable from the well kept us from even considering the possibility that we’d run dry.

  Henry devised a trap fishing box that went to the bottom or near bottom of a lake, opened, and acted as a fishing rod. Although the first few tries were not successful, each time he went out, he caught more fish, all safe from radiation because they swam near the bottom of the lake.

  Henry though wouldn’t go out more than once a week for an hour.

  His hair was too important.

  Rad levels were in the teens, which was good. But still not low enough to live in.

  In Montana they were hitting the single digits. Slowly but surely. But the camp we spoke to in Southern California, they were still at thirty rads.

  On the Ellen and I front, things were going very well. We didn’t hit a kink, we connected. It was so natural, it was fright
ening. We laughed a lot, shared a lot and were intimate partners.

  I was enjoying that part of my life.

  When the day was done, I looked forward to my evenings with Ellen. And it didn’t matter what we did, I enjoyed it.

  Now a meeting with my father, Ray, Stan, and Marcus …was sometimes headache inducing.

  One of my father’s responsibilities was to do morning check ins with our contact camps and maintain contact.

  He also liked to plan a meeting to occur every few days. He felt they’d keep us organized, and help us plot what was needed. At these, we’d discuss what was happening at the outer camps, scouting trips future and past, division reports. Ah, yes, my father had people writing reports of activities in their divisions. Mechanical, medical, entertainment, the every growing popular and successful, agriculture, and the other divisions. There was an entire list of divisions in our small camp.

  On the particular morning of our planned meeting, he also did all the other daily check ins for me. Ray and I had gone out for our weekly scouting trip. We had just returned with the Fox from another neighboring town, and our surveillance was as bleak with that as it was with Charleston and Roanoke.

  Long decontamination was no longer necessary, so after our misting—as we called it—Ray and I gathered our notes and photos, and headed to the meeting room.

  He and I didn’t speak much before the meeting. We never spoke much after a scouting trip. They were depressing. We both hoped that the meeting would give us some sort of ‘up’ and boost that we needed.

  ***

  “And Kyle …” My father exhaled. “Says they’ve tapped into a pipe line that feeds to a well and they have running water. Plenty of it.”

  I nodded that and pointed my pencil. “Kyle is Montana.”

  My father nodded. “Surprises the hell out of me about the radiation there. So low. I know damn well they probably got hit bad north of Montana. Tons of silos there.”

  “Maybe they didn’t,” I said.

  “Maybe. In any event. Some scientist from Nebraska has joined their ranks. They are currently testing how far down they have to go in the soil before the contamination stops. They’re hoping only a few inches, they don’t know.”

  Ray said, “A few inches is still a lot of soil to remove.”

  “Yeah, but it’s better than a few feet,” my father said.

  “True.” Ray nodded. “What’s our combined population at now? Do we know?”

  I exhaled prior to answering. “Sixty-two here, Montana …” I flipped through my notes. “Fourteen.” Quickly I did the math adding up the four other camps and ours. “One thirty four.”

  Ray whistled. “Getting up there. I’m sure there’s more.”

  “Speaking of survivors,” My father said. “What’s the scoop on the scouting mission today?”

  Sadly, I shook my head. “Nothing.” We hit two small towns and about six farms. Although we found more sources for water, we also found more people who had died of radiation. Bodies are just everywhere. The roads, homes, you name it.”

  After writing something down, my father turned a page, opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the sound of running footsteps drew nearer.

  Greg, out of breath, raced in the room. “You guys have to come quick. I got a signal.”

  We rushed to follow.

  ***

  All of us arrived at the radio room in the same amount of time. Henry was handling the microphone when we walked in.

  “Still got them, Henry?” Greg asked.

  Henry nodded, then pressed the microphone. “Can you repeat that for our Captain, over.”

  “Roger that, this is the SSBN Georgia, First Lt. Hawkins acting as Captain.”

  My eyes widened.

  My father jolted a quick look my way. “An SSBN, Nuclear sub, Hal. They’re designed to survive a nuclear war. Henry, ask where they are.”

  “Georgia, what is your position? Over.” Henry asked.

  “About three hundred miles off the coast of South America. Over.”

  I stepped forward, “May I?” I inquired of Henry.

  Henry passed the radio responsibilities to me.

  “This is Captain Slagel, what are you radiation readouts right now?”

  “Down south here about eight rads per hour. Lower readings further south. Zero rads.”

  I clenched my fist in excitement. Somewhere was radiation free. There was hope. “Lieutenant, what are your directives right now? Over.”

  .”We’ve been in constant contact with the president of the United States. He has given us directives. Over?”

  I looked about the faces in the room, then returned to my radio call. “The president? Over.”

  “Yes. He was moved. They are secure. The president, vice president and few members of congress. They’re trying to get things back on track, but it’s hard to do since the levels are still high. Over.”

  “Do they have a contingency? Over.”

  “Not yet. Our directives were to stay in the southern Atlantic until we were told to port.”

  “Were?” I asked.

  “We asked the president if we could disembark. He gave permission if we could maintain contact. But the problem remains, disembarking safely.”

  “Is the military still operational?”

  “For the most part. Captain, can I ask where you are at.”

  “I’d rather not disclose that information over the airwaves. But we have room. And I’m sure you have provisions to add to what we have.”

  “We do. And I understand not disclosing.”

  “How many are on board”

  “Total 135, sir. Over.”

  “And you’re positioned in the Atlantic?”

  “Yes, sir. Over.”

  “How long will it take to get you north? Let’s say Washington DC.?”

  “No more than a week.”

  “Lieutenant, can I get right back to you?”

  “Yes, sir. Sir? We really need to get off this sub.”

  “I understand. Out.” I moved my hand from the radio and swiveled my chair around. “What do we do?”

  My father replied. “We get them. Period.”

  Ray added. “We can use the men, and theoretically they can pull into the Potomac River.”

  I pointed. “I saw that movie.”

  Marcus said. “But that’s a lot of miles to carry a lot of men and supplies. That’s a three to four hour trip.”

  I added, “Not counting problems with the city, or roads there.”

  Ray said, “Rads are too high to be out that long exposed.”

  “Simple,” My father said. “We get them into DC. We go…” he paused. “As painful as that may be. We go to DC. We pick them in vehicle or vehicles designed to protect from radiation.”

  I questioned. “Where are we getting those?”

  “School buses,” My father replied.

  “They aren’t safe from Radiation,” I said.

  “No, but they can be made to be. With a little imagination, creativity, knowledge and work.” My father smiled and looked at Henry.

  Henry’s eyes widened. “What? No. That’s a lot of work; I can’t do it, Joe. I can’t.”

  “Henry. You can.”

  “But Joe…”

  “Henry that’s a lot of men who can use your help.”

  Henry huffed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  “Good boy,” my father said. “You have one week.”

  “What?”

  Ignoring him, my father looked at me. “Hal, tell them we’ll pick them up in DC. We just need an estimated time of arrival, and once Henry knows how he’s going to fix the buses, we’ll set up a meeting time. Until then, let’s try to maintain contact with them.”

  “You got it.” I gave my father closed mouth smile, took a moment to enjoy Henry’s perplexed look, and then I contacted the SSBN Georgia to tell them we were bringing them in. We were bringing them home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  November 9th.r />
  It was taking Henry a bit longer than anticipated to complete the project. He had to alter two buses. A huge task. He would have had help, but he was such a perfectionist, people quit helping him.

  Henry didn’t seem to mind.

  The sub was just outside of Washington DC waiting on word from us that we were on the way.

  Another day, Henry told us, and it would be finished. If all went as planned, we’d be picking up our new residents in no time.

  Dorm quarter arrangements were made and we still had room to spare. The acting Captain of the vessel gave me a run down on supplies, and that he had spoke to the President about joining us.

  I thanked him and didn’t think too much about it until we received a radio call from The President himself. We didn’t get much from the president, except that he would keep us all abreast, and let us know the full contingency plan.

  He seemed frazzled. I don’t know. Maybe it was just my imagination. I had been talking to a lot of people over the airwaves, including a lieutenant who took ship responsibilities when the captain … jumped ship.

  Odd. I thought the navy trained their men better.

  Admittedly, I was hopeful about my brother Jimmy. He, too, was out on a sub, and although the Georgia hadn’t made contact with them, that didn’t mean much. There was a possibility.

  Mary Agnes was thrilled to find out the ship’s doctor would be joining us. He was bringing more advanced medical supplies. It eased her mind that she had someone else to share the burden of diagnosing.

  Of course, her and Margot were both thrilled over the fact as well that ten of the crew had pneumonia. A heating problem with the sub caused a respiratory illness, which worsened in a few of them.

  I was making my way to the clinic when Ray called me on the radio. “Got some good news, Captain.”

  “Henry’s finished?” I asked.

  “Looks that way, we’re taking them out for a test. Over.”

  “Excellent, keep me posted. Out.” I hooked my radio to my belt and entered the clinic.