The Goodwill Gesture

by McKay, KC

  I settled into the boat, sardine style, and we crossed the choppy water of the loch. After a few minutes we arrived at what was considered the United States.

  I presented my orders to the Officer of the Deck and was soon escorted to the R-One division office to receive my designated shop assignment.

  I walked into the reception area of the office with a couple of desks and some obvious admin staff sitting around drinking coffee. One of them showed me through to an office off to the side where I was introduced to the assistant division officer, Master Chief Woods. He was a tank of man in his late forties with curly brown hair. His forearms were tattooed; a naked lady on one and 'Live Free or Die' in a banner over a bed of roses on the other.

  "Where you checking in from, sailor?" he asked. The room shook when he spoke.

  "Pearl Harbor, sir."

  His face slid into a frown, increasing the depth of the creases in his jowls. "I'm a goddamn Master Chief, not a sir. I sweat real sweat and shit real shit. Not like those zeros who spend a few months at knife and fork school and think they know everything." He stepped into my personal space. Although I stood a respectable six feet tall, he had a good three inches on me. His brown eyes were light in color. "You call me sir again and I'll rip your vocal chords out through your asshole. Got it?"

  I couldn't help myself and involuntarily snickered.

  "You got a problem, sailor?" Woods shouted.

  "No, si—umm… Master Chief. I just thought about what you said. That really would be talking out of my ass."

  He closed the gap between us even further. "I'm tempted to do it right now because that's obviously where your brain is." He glowered at me for several seconds, which made my butt twitch and I fought the urge to shit myself.

  He scowled. "I'm telling you now, Chambers, you don't want to cross swords with me."

  "No, si—Master Chief. No, I don't."

  "Good. The Lieutenant's not in yet, but we already talked about it and you're going to the pipe shop. You got one week to get qualified or I'm gonna send what's left of your ass to be part of ship's company unclogging shit lines instead of welding on submarines. Any questions?" He towered over me and his straight face suggested a question was as good as a death wish.

  "No, Master Chief. I'm cool."

  "I don't want fucking cool, I want a pipe fitter. Now get out of here." He waved me out with the back of his hand.

  I stepped out into the reception area and breathed a sigh of relief. A guy sat at one of the desks with a wry smile. "So, where they sending you?"

  "Pipe shop."

  "Cool." He picked up the phone and requested an escort for me.

  I don't think I made a very good impression on Master Chief Woods. I hoped it wouldn't take long for my escort to show up because I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there.

  Chapter 3

  "Howdy." A chubby, balding guy with a head like a pumpkin held out his hand. "I'm Petty Officer McClure, but you can call me Billy Earl."

  We shook hands, bringing a smile to his face big enough to raise his double chin.

  "Hi, I'm Petty Officer Chambers. Call me Zac." I made a quick assessment of my escort. "So I take it with a name like Billy Earl, you must be from the hills, huh?"

  "Kentucky," he said, beaming.

  "How come you country boys always get two names?" I asked, half sarcastically, half out of genuine interest.

  "Ma don't know who my Pa is, Billy or Earl, and she wanted to call me Junior. So she named me both."

  "Why not Earl Billy?"

  He stared at me long and hard, squinting his eyes. "Billy got there first, you igmo."

  A country boy just made me feel stupid. I tried to conceal my embarrassment for not knowing the Hillbilly Code of Conduct by smacking my forehead. "Of course."

  He motioned a 'C'mon' signal and apparently my ignorance had been forgiven and forgotten. "Grab your gear and let's get a move on."

  McClure and I were the same rank, but he looked a lot older than me. Probably in his late thirties. He must have been busted in rank to be that old and still only a second class petty officer.

  He led me to the pipe shop while imparting his knowledge of the workings of Site Bravo. We went down a stairwell and entered a door marked 'Pipe Shop.' Billy Earl led the way past various machines to the office.

  Two desks sat in line with each other, both facing the wall, so anyone entering the space had a side-on view. A scruffy-looking guy sat in a blue chair at the desk farthest away from the door, looking at a Playboy magazine. He looked at me and held the magazine toward me, opened to Miss January. "Nice tits, huh?"

  I gave a nod of approval. "I wouldn't expect anything less from a three dollar magazine."

  He smiled, stood up and wiped his hand on his pants, then extended it toward me. "I'm Bob, supervisor for the pipe shop."

  I looked at his name stenciled on his shirt. "Hi, Petty Officer Clark," I said.

  He shook his head. "You don't need to be so formal. Bob's okay." He drew a breath. "I lost my assistant supervisor, so you'll be the new number two man, but you'll have a long way to go to fill Janson's boots. He knew everything about pipefitting. He was the best goddamn assistant I ever had. Crazy fucker he was. He always got the job done," he covered the side of his mouth and whispered, "but not always by the book." He winked. "Got killed on his motorcycle three weeks ago. You're his replacement."

  "Wait a minute, I'm just checking in. I don't know squat." I pointed to the pipe bending machine. "I don't even know how that damn thing works."

  "Don't worry, we'll train you. You're second in command of the shop and it's your job to make me look good. When I'm not here, you're the man."

  "Look, Bob, I'm not ready for responsibility. Pick someone else." I wanted to keep a low profile and I certainly didn't want responsibility thrust upon me. I looked at Billy Earl. "What about McClure? He must be senior to me."

  Clark shook his head. "Billy Earl's too stupid." He pushed his wire rim glasses up.

  Billy Earl stood there grinning like an idiot. What was wrong with the guy? Didn't he know when he was being insulted?

  "You'll be okay. McClure will get you checked in, then get back here and start getting qualified to work on the subs."

  I cursed. This would be my new life when I should have been on the other side of the world frolicking with Filipino women. Uncle Sam was starting to piss me off.

  ***

  McClure took me around the large vessel telling me about the women and Marines on board, two things I didn't want anything to do with.

  Once I had checked in, we headed back toward the shop. A voice called out for McClure as we walked down the passageway. We both turned as an attractive female walked up to us. She wore a khaki-colored uniform with a single silver bar pinned to her collar, indicating she was an officer: Lieutenant Junior Grade. Officers always outranked enlisted personnel and were a cut above people like us as far as the Navy was concerned.

  I wondered what the hell she wanted with Billy Earl. Being an officer, she couldn't be romantically involved with an enlisted guy. That wasn't allowed, and fraternization on the ship was strictly forbidden. Not to mention he was a hick, and this chick was waaaay out of bounds for either of us, but especially him.

  She looked at Billy Earl. "Did you get that valve for the Harrison?" Her voice was soft yet firm.

  "Howdy, Lieutenant," Billy Earl greeted her. "Yep, I got 'er." He pointed toward me. "This here's Petty Officer Chambers. Master Chief assigned him to the pipe shop."

  I nodded. "Ma'am." Being an officer dictated that she be addressed as 'ma'am.' Partly as respect for her superior rank, but it also set a clear boundary. A no-no boundary for me and my animalistic male instincts.

  She had striking gray eyes and beautifully curved eyebrows. "Petty Officer Chambers. We've been expecting you. You're here to replace Janson, right?"

  I nodded and looked over her slender body, mentally wandering into no-no land.

  "I'm Lieutenant N
ovak, the division officer for R-One. Looks like I'm your boss." She smiled, but still maintained a look of authority. That would also make her Master Chief Woods and Clark's boss.

  Holy crap. I'd thought she was familiar. Her hair had dried out, but she was the beauty I'd seen in the boat shack. Her pixie-type cut had shaggy layers. Very cute indeed.

  She wagged her finger. "Wait a minute, I remember you. Boat shack, right?"

  "Yes, ma'am." She remembered me, so at least I made some kind of impression.

  She crossed her arms. "So, are you happy about going to the pipe shop?"

  "Yes, ma'am." At least being a pipe fitter was something manly.

  "Good. I wouldn't want you to have another one of your tantrums. Anger management classes can be arranged, you know?" A corner of her mouth turned up. "I'd hate to think one of my men was unhappy in this… shithole, was it?"

  Perhaps my impression on her wasn't the type I wanted. I looked at the ground and cleared my throat. "Umm… perhaps I spoke out of turn, ma'am. I'm sure I'll adjust."

  "Good. If you have any discomfort or complaints, I'm sure Master Chief Woods will be willing to offer a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. He's like that, you know?

  I looked at the black and white tiles under my feet. "I think I'll keep my opinions to myself, ma'am."

  "Well, his door is always open if you change your mind. Welcome aboard, Petty Officer Chambers." She spun on her heel and walked off.

  I stood admiring her ass, wishing she was some Scottish lass ashore. Her being a ship chick was enough to keep me away from her, but as an officer and my boss as well, she was forbidden fruit on three counts, so I had to cross her off my lust list.

  McClure stood there wearing a stupid grin. "She sure is pretty, ain't she?"

  "At least you're not dead, Billy Earl."

  "Ma says I got a strong heart."

  "What about your dick?" I snickered.

  "Cousin Lulu says—"

  I put my hand up. "Umm… let's not go there."

  He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

  ***

  Petty Officer Clark escorted me to the qual booth. I had already submitted four test pipes to Quality Assurance for assessment to get my qualification, but all four had failed.

  Clark stood next to me as I got set up. "Okay, Chambers, this is your last chance. Do whatever you have to, just make sure you pass this time."

  Hardly a Franklin Roosevelt fireside chat, but I guessed that was his shot at a motivational speech.

  "I'll do my best," I assured him.

  Clark grabbed my arm. "Fuck your best. I said do what you have to." He had the look of one of those psycho killers.

  I suffered a mild shock. "You mean cheat?" I whispered.

  "Beg, borrow, steal, cheat, have sex with a donkey. I don't care. Just pass." He stared at me, unblinking.

  I didn't want to get my qualification by cheating, but I couldn't afford to fail. An order to cheat. That confirmed to me that Clark wasn't fully bolted.

  I fired up the torch and heated up the pipe, thinking how best to deal with the situation.

  A calm voice spoke behind me. "At it again, Chambers?"

  I glanced over my shoulder and there stood Charlotte Kemp, the cute QA inspector who had already rejected three of my efforts.

  "Oh, hi, Kemp." Sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes. I took off my safety glasses to give my eyes a wipe.

  Our previous encounters were pleasant, but I think she liked being able to wield her power. Being someone who would regularly be called upon to inspect my work, her decisions could have a direct impact on my success at Site Bravo.

  She looked to get comfortable. "I think I'll stick around and watch. Maybe I can see where you keep going wrong."

  That took care of my dilemma. I certainly wouldn't be able to cheat with an inspector looking over my shoulder.

  After I finished, Charlotte left and I got my pipe ready for inspection then popped into the office to tell Clark.

  "You better hope you pass, Chambers. Master Chief's gonna be pissed if he only gets the remnants of what's left of your ass once I get done with you if you fail."

  I made the short walk to the Quality Assurance space just down the passageway with the qual pipe in my hand and trepidation in my heart.

  Chapter 4

  Charlotte smiled when I came in, sending her dimples deep into her creamy-skinned cheeks. Her forest green eyes lay below thin eyebrows, and her blonde hair was tied up in a bun.

  I ignored her cute factor and stuck to business. "Petty Officer Kemp." I placed the pipe on her desk. "Fourth time lucky, as they say." I smiled.

  "Yeah, but we're talking about brazing, not your love life," she joked. She picked up the pipe and examined it, slowly turning it, looking at it from every angle. "Well, it looks okay visually. Let's put it to the real test."

  She got up from her desk, walked over to a tall cabinet and pulled out an ultrasonic machine. She had a nice bubble butt which was quite noticeable given her small frame.

  Charlotte placed the transducer on the pipe and took ultrasound readings. A wiggly line indicated the percentage of the bond and I needed a 70% average to pass.

  When she finished the total came to 69%.

  My head dropped and I looked at the table top. My mind raced. A vivid image of Master Chief and Bob each grabbing a testicle and running in opposite directions made me grimace.

  I lifted my head and rapped my knuckles on the table top. "Well, it's been nice knowing you, Charlotte, but I'm off to the dungeon, never to be seen again."

  She tucked a loose lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "Sorry, Chambers."

  I buried my head in my arms on the table. It couldn't end like this. I pulled my head up and looked at her. "Petty Officer Kemp… Charlotte… Any chance you might just read it again? I mean, I'm sure you're right, and I don't doubt your judgment, but it's pretty close. I'd like to raise a family before Master Chief rips my—" I stopped and searched her face to see if there might be some sympathy hidden within. I hoped she'd get lost in my blue eyes and agree to read it again.

  Her eyes studied mine, then a grin slowly spread across her face. She leaned in and her hand brushed against my knee. "What might I get out of it?" she whispered. "You think you can make sixty-nine worth passing?"

  A lump in my throat materialized, making it difficult to swallow.

  She was cute and could definitely make lumps materialize in other places if I would let her, but I didn't want to get involved with a girl from the ship. Especially someone who had the power to make or break my pipefitting career. If she ever got mad at me, she could fail my work out of spite. But I needed this to pass, whatever the cost. I'd been in quite a few fights in my life but it wasn't very often I had to wrestle with my conscience — particularly when it was a matter of 'Should I screw this chick or not?' The predicament presented a huge battle.

  Maybe if I asked her out for a drink she'd spare me. I mean, we wouldn't have to do anything, it would just be a friendly gesture. And we were shipmates, female or not. I'd just have to imagine her as one of the guys — with a really cute ass I didn't want to fuck. "I could buy you a drink," I offered.

  "Hmm… you know what I like?" She slid toward me. "Sloe gin, Southern Comfort, Vodka and orange juice. It's called a 'Slow, Comfortable Screw.'" Her tongue glided along her lips.

  My cock involuntarily twitched. I studied her and forgot about my quandary for a moment as I was captivated by her vivid green eyes, sparkling brightly. Then reality grabbed me by the gut. As much as it hurt my ego to have to cheat, or in effect, sell my body, there was no way around it. Hers was the only way to make it more than a week in this hellhole. It also went against my 'no ship chicks' policy, but I had to do it as a matter of survival.

  "Okay, what time—"

  A first class petty officer stood over us, interrupting me. "You alright here, Kemp?" The guy had a closely cropped moustache and a reddish tint to his hair around the sides, but was going bald
on top. His most noticeable feature was a growth the size of half a golf ball on the left side of his forehead.

  Charlotte inched away from me. "We're okay, Petty Officer Howard. I just read Chambers' qual pipe, and one side is pretty borderline, but I think it passed." She gave me a sly wink.

  Howard nudged her shoulder. "Scoot over. I'll give it a read." He sat down, stretched his arms out like a warm up exercise and grabbed the transducer. He read the pipe as Kemp wrote down the numbers. When he was done, she tallied it up.

  "Seventy point one," she announced.

  "You were right to get a second opinion, Kemp." Howard stood up and patted her on the back. "It was close, but it's okay. You can pass it."

  Kemp looked at me as Howard walked off. "Whew, that was lucky, huh?" She smiled.

  "Who was that?"

  "That was my supervisor." She wrote some notes on the paperwork, then stopped and looked at me. "If he failed it I wouldn't have been able to fix the numbers for you." She quickly flexed her smile muscles, then rummaged around her drawer and grabbed the 'passed' stamp. "The boss man says you passed, so there you go." She patted my knee, then pressed the rubber stamp onto the ink pad and hit the paper with the bright seal of approval.

  Relief hit me like a refreshing wave.

  "So, what time are you taking me out for that drink?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. "And whatever else might come our way."

  "Umm… change of plans," I said politely, "I'm going to buy Knothead a drink."

  "What? No way! I'm the one who signed it. You owe me." She narrowed her eyes.

  "Owe you?" I took the pipe off her desk and grabbed the paperwork. "I did my job and you did yours. There's no owing about it. Thanks, Charlotte." I got up and walked back to the pipe shop. I was pleased Knothead passed it and not her. Now I wouldn't feel indebted to her.

  ***

  Being a qualified pipefitter, I decided to celebrate. And the celebration was to include Scottish, not American, women.