by McKay, KC
"Suit yourself," Billy Earl mumbled.
Darcy leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk. "McClure, I want you to take the test for first class petty officer next month, and, Petty Officer Chambers, I want you to make sure he passes."
I jerked back from the shock. "How am I supposed to do that?"
"Tutor him," she instructed.
"What? Ma'am, I don't know about that—"
"Chambers, I'm not asking you to do it, I'm telling you. And if I have to restrict you guys to the ship to make sure it happens, I will." She focused on me, leaving her words to sink in.
I wasn't the teacher type, unless maybe it was part of a sex game, and I sure the hell wasn't going down that route with Billy Earl.
An ill feeling grabbed me at the thought of trying to teach Bumpkin Billy enough to pass a test. I wasn't sure what Darcy would do to me when he failed, but at a minimum, I knew she'd be disappointed in me.
"I'll do my best, ma'am," I muttered.
"Good. Look at it this way — it will be good training for you becoming an officer. Don't let me down." She gave me a hopeful look. "Dismissed."
Crap. Getting Darcy to be proud of me hinged on getting a knucklehead to pass a test. I hated to disappoint her, but this was out of my control.
Nonetheless, whenever I had some spare time over the next few weeks, I helped Billy Earl study for the test. He got some of the questions right, but even a broken clock is right twice a day.
***
A phone call summoned me to Lt. Novak's office. My mind sifted through recent events as I made my way there. No catastrophes nor triumphs headed the list, and since we only ever talked about work these days, I had no idea what she might have wanted. I never ruled out that she could transfer me at any given time, but that seemed unlikely as she would have already done it if I had proven to be an unbearable thorn in her side.
Then again, although she never let on, perhaps she did have pain when she saw me. After all, we had shared some explosive moments and good times. No way she could have faked those orgasms.
She was just about to let me know if I could ask her out the night we fixed the Mojo when the PMA busted in on us. Maybe she was calling me in for a belated acceptance.
By the time I got to her office I still hadn't guessed if it was good news or bad. I walked in under a cloud of uncertainty.
Much to my disappointment, Master Chief was also there when I arrived, ruling out the possibility for any personal reconciliation, which might have led to making a date for make-up sex later on. I sat opposite Lt. Novak's desk, with Master Chief off to the side, burning holes in me with his beady eyes and crinkled forehead.
"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" I asked innocently.
She straightened her back to sit more erect. "Petty Officer Chambers, you've impressed me lately."
"Oh?"
"Yes." She clasped her hands in front of her, resting them on the desk. "You've had a very big workload recently, plus you're going to college, and helping one of your subordinates study for his Navy exam for promotion. As far as I can tell, you represent your country with dignity when you go ashore, and don't do anything to bring discredit upon the Naval service or the Anticipation herself."
I nodded respectfully. "Thank you, ma'am. You are too generous with your praise."
"Goddamn right she is." Master Chief grumbled.
Darcy sighed. "Master Chief, will you please put a lid on it?" She pulled her shirt, straightening out the front, but at the same time stretching the fabric to outline her petite shape.
My eyes fell to her breasts and my tongue inadvertently moved across my lips, reminiscing of our intimate time together how sexy she was. I yearned to see her naked again.
Darcy clicked her fingers. "Chambers!"
My head jerked up to make eye contact with her. She held her fingers in a 'V,' pointing at her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am. Sorry." I lowered my head toward the floor to look remorseful.
"Because of your devotion to duty," she continued, "I'm nominating you for 'Sailor of the Year' for the USS Anticipation."
Master Chief raised his arms in the air. "Oh, for crap's sake, JG, you can't nominate Chambers. He doesn't deserve it."
Darcy smacked her open hand on the desk. "I happen to think otherwise, Master Chief. I think he's done a terrific job, and something like this will help him in his career path."
"Career path?" His voice squeaked with astonishment.
I smiled. "I'm studying to become an officer."
Master Chief leapt out of his chair and headed for the door, shouting, "What the hell is this Navy coming to?" The door slammed behind him.
"Well," I stated matter-of-factly, "I'm pleased to have Master Chief's support."
Lt. Novak smiled. "Quite. But seriously, Chambers, I think you can do it, and I'd like to see you win it. I'm recommending you for an officer's program, and winning Sailor of the Year would look good in your record and be a huge endorsement for you."
The way she looked at me I could tell she really meant it and believed in me. I probably wouldn't be able to train Billy Earl, but I could hold the reins over my own destiny. I had a surge of confidence and a desire to please her. I'd make her proud. I was determined.
"Thank you, ma'am. I'm inspired by your faith in me. I won't let you down."
Chapter 31
The next step to winning Sailor of the Year was to appear before a panel of officers for an interview. I was in the top ten out of 1500 sailors on board. Sounded to me like all I needed was a few good lines of bullshit. I was in my element and felt good about my prospects of winning. My confidence was high.
The day of the interview arrived and I stood outside the officers' wardroom, waiting to be called in. My dress uniform had been cleaned and pressed. I paid Billy Earl five bucks to give my shoes a top-of-the-line spit shine. Country boys were good at stuff like that and the tops of my shoes looked like black mirrors. My haircut was fresh, and I was proud to be there.
The door opened. "Petty Officer Chambers," a voice called out. "Please come in."
I entered to find that walrus-looking XO with the big glasses sitting at the head of the table. Officers flanked both sides of him. A panel of five, including the ass-chewing XO.
I sat at the far end of the table, looking down the brown vinyl table covering at the five gentlemen designated to determine my suitability for the honor, sitting at the other end. Water-filled glasses sat in front of each of us. The atmosphere was on par with that of a funeral home.
I had mentally rehearsed my climb up the Naval ladder to my current position of power.
Their heads were bowed as they studied their notes on the clipboards lying on the table in front of them.
The XO opened the interview. "Good morning, Petty Officer Chambers. Let me say that you've done well to get this far in the selection process, so consider that an accomplishment on its own, regardless of what happens."
That was like a girl telling you that you had a nice personality. No chance of getting laid, but you were nice — and that was supposed to cheer you up.
"And, gentlemen," the XO looked at the other members of the panel, "Petty Officer Chambers sees himself as our resident expert firefighter." He leaned forward on the table. "In fact, Petty Officer Chambers thinks he might even know more about shipboard fires than his executive officer." He gave me a sick grin. "Isn't that right, Petty Officer Chambers?"
I would have thought he had more important things to worry about than little smart-ass comments from me. Besides, I had been right about that and he knew it. "I just like to check procedures, sir."
"Indeed." He held his gaze on me until it became uncomfortable. "Are you ready to begin?"
I nodded, giving them permission to fire away.
A highly decorated Senior Chief cleared his throat. "Tell us about any charity work you've done for the local community."
Okay, so they're going to be coming out of left field. "Well, none, Senior Chief. The pipe s
hop is very busy, and while most sailors are enjoying liberty, I'm usually overseeing submarine refits to get the boats out to sea on time. I take my job very seriously."
"I'm sure you do, Petty Officer Chambers, but the Navy does like to keep a presence in the immediate area and show that we support local causes. A gesture of goodwill, you might say."
I nodded. "I'm certainly willing to do my part to promote goodwill, Senior Chief."
They scribbled on their notepads.
I took advantage of the lull and sipped from the glass of water, still thinking about Senior Chief's question. No doubt we had a different interpretation of goodwill. In an attempt to suppress an outright belly laugh, my body jerked and I missed my mouth — spilling the entire glass of water down my front. "Shit!" I jumped up and placed the glass on the table, looking down at my wet front.
All heads jerked up.
In a futile move, I wiped my wet patch with my hand. When I realized how silly I looked, I sat back down. The wetness from the chair then penetrated my ass. Shit! I meant, shoot. I didn't need another type of accident on top of everything else. Water seeped through pants to my butt.
"Sorry," I said. "I missed." A nervous chuckle escaped my lips, but no one else joined in.
A junior officer at the far end rustled his papers. "What have you done to enhance the Navy's relationship and image within the local community?" he asked.
Didn't these guys realize I was there to fix submarines? "Well, sir, I try to support the local shops as much as possible." I knew it was a crap answer by the look he returned.
A stern-looking Lieutenant piped up. "Are you aware of, or perhaps you may have helped out, at the home for disabled youngsters set up in the town by the Navy four years ago?"
Great. Another goodwill gesture by the Navy. "No, sir, I wasn't aware of that."
He returned a "Humph," grunt.
The XO twirled the end of his moustache. "What would you do to help raise the morale of the ship's company?"
Finally, something remotely military. "Good question, sir." Then my mind went blank. Well, not really blank, but I had to be careful. A wrong answer could be taken as my view that I thought he and the Captain were doing a poor job of running the ship. I didn't want to criticize command policy. Perhaps I'd best offer some praise about what they have done, and not what they haven't. "That was a good idea last year, sir, when the ship's working hours on the shortest day of the year were dawn to dusk. Ten to three. A five hour workday." I smiled. "That was brilliant."
The XO looked down at his papers. "Yes, that was last year's Sailor of the Year's idea," he replied in a monotone voice.
As they fired more questions at me, I shifted in my seat, creating a swish of water up my butt. The questions were about the Navy's profile, not mine.
The rest of the interview went much the same way. I fumbled through the answers, but I knew hard work wasn't going to be enough and I wasn't going to be Sailor of the Year. They wanted a PR consultant, not someone whose responsibilities kept them tied to the ship.
I tried to remain upbeat for the rest of the interview, but I was consumed with the disappointment Darcy would have in me. I wouldn't be Sailor of the Year, and that Kentucky dimwit wouldn't pass his upcoming exam. She would see me as a total failure. With the way I was heading she might even retract her endorsement of me for the officer program. Depression set in before I even left the room.
***
When I left the interview I knew there wasn't any point in putting off Darcy's disappointment. I failed in my quest to become the ship's most recognizable top dog and decided to tell Lt. Novak straight away so she wouldn't get her hopes up that her division would be home to the Sailor of the Year. I'm sure it would have looked good on her record as well, but her glory wouldn't come through me. Not this year, anyway.
As I walked to her office, anger replaced my disappointment. Who the hell did those guys think they were? A bunch of fat asses who sat in judgment of me and my achievements. I felt trivialized by their lack of interest in my work. By the time I got to her office, I was fuming.
I stormed through reception and went straight into her office. She was alone.
"I've had it," I shouted. "I've busted my ass for this ship to get those submarines out on time, and what do I get in return? A kick in the balls and told I don't spend enough time helping cripples. Fuck this. I don't need it."
She stopped doing paperwork and laid her pen down on her desk. She leaned back, half smiling, half puzzled. "Is there a problem, Petty Officer Chambers?"
"Yes!" I pointed — I don't know to where, just to them— somewhere. "Those quacks don't know jack shit about fixing submarines. And the kind of goodwill they want spreading isn't the same kind of goodwill I want to spread."
"Calm down." She poured a glass of water from the jug on her desk. "Here, have a drink of water."
"I don't want a fucking drink. Look what happened last time I had some water." I opened my stance and pointed to my wet crotch, but the stain didn't show up very well on my dark blue pants.
Her smile flattened, and her instruction was firm. "Your stance is inappropriate for addressing a female officer, Petty Officer Chambers, and I don't appreciate your tone." She leaned forward in her chair. "Now, restrain your anger enough to follow military protocol, or we will have problems. Are we understood?" Her cool gray eyes were unwavering.
"Yes, ma'am." My body tremored. "Sorry, ma'am, but this is bullshit." My fists tightened.
"I feel your pain," she said sympathetically.
"No you don't," I yelled. "You want to feel pain? Feel your own pain. Leave my pain alone."
I stormed out of the office and went back to the shop. I lit a cigarette and sucked it with rage. It was unfortunate I'd flown off the handle in front of her, but it was out of frustration and a feeling that I had let her down.
Billy Earl came in and sat down. "You okay, boss? You look plum flustered."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had a meeting with a bunch of shitheads who don't understand the finer points of national security and the importance of the nuclear deterrent."
He scratched the back of his head. "You wanna run that by me again?"
I waved my hand around. "Never mind." I pulled a tech manual off the desk and hoisted it onto my lap. "We'd better do some studying."
He shrugged. "Not much point, is there? The result will be the same, study or not."
He had a point. I was on the brink of being a two-time loser. Darcy really would think I was useless.
I inhaled my cigarette deeply. There wasn't much point wasting more of my time and effort on hopeless causes. I needed to get drunk.
***
Darcy had mentioned a pub, The Horse and Hound, in the tiny village of Toward at the end of the peninsula. She said they had the best fish and chips around, but the thing she liked even more than the food was the seclusion. Being an officer she didn't want to hang out in enlisted haunts. 'Drunks don't always speak or act coherently,' she once told me. From what she hinted at I guessed she probably had her ass grabbed a few times and had a few of the 'Wanna fuck' lines thrown her way by drunken sailors, so she tried to avoid those situations as best she could.
The twenty-five minute taxi ride weaved along the winding road and I looked forward to getting away from it all. Seclusion seemed like a good idea.
There were only half a dozen patrons or so when I entered. The brown tables and chairs looked like they had been there since about 1950, and the tapestry-patterned carpet could have dated back to the 1930's. But it had everything I wanted: Peace, quiet, food and beer. Since Darcy recommended it, I felt a certain closeness to her knowing she had been there before.
I got a beer and ordered my food from the bar, then sat close by so I could hear more from the guy sitting there telling the bartender about his Aunt Gladys' hyperactive thyroid. Not that I really cared about Aunt Gladys, but I loved the fact that the Scots took the time to take an interest in one another's personal traumas. And Aunt
Gladys sounded pretty hot for an older woman.
My fish arrived a little later, and after a few bites, I came to the conclusion that Darcy was right. The Horse and Hound did have the best fish and chips around.
The front door opened, letting in a cool breeze. When I looked up, my heart stuttered as Darcy walked in. She wore a pink polo shirt with the collar turned up, and a maroon sweater draped over her back with the arms tied in front of her around her neck. Calvin Klein jeans hugged her thin, shapely butt and her black pumps added another inch to her height.
Part of me wanted to hide, fearing I violated her secret hideaway. Part of me jumped for joy at seeing her in civilian clothes looking sexy and out of the work environment. Another part of me twitched.
She strolled up to the bar, ordered a glass of red wine, then looked around while the barkeep tended to her drink. Her eyes caught me and the corners of her mouth turned up. Once the barman set her drink down, she picked it up and walked over.
"Hi, Zac. What brings you here?"
Zac. She was being friendly, which sent my pulse rocketing, but I didn't want to be presumptuous. I glanced down at my food, then looked back to her. "Your recommendation."
She pointed to a chair. "Mind if I join you?"
"No, 'course not." I ran my tongue across my teeth hoping I didn't have any food stuck in them.
She slid into the seat opposite me. "Yum…" She curled her lips together. "Fish and chips. Any good?"
"Fantastic." I aimed my fork at the food. "Want to try some?"
"Don't mind if I do. Thanks." She picked up a chip off my plate and popped it in her mouth.
The glint in my eye felt lustful, but I didn't care. "I hope you don't think I'm here to pee on your territory."
Her head drooped as she smiled broadly and shook her head. "You do have a way with words, don't you?"
I shrugged. "We've been studying metaphors in college, so I thought I'd try one."
"To be honest, a restaurant may not be the best place to apply a urinating dog metaphor, but I catch your drift. And I'm glad you showed up. Surprised, but pleased." She took another one of my chips without asking, but I didn't mind. That's something a girlfriend would've done.