by John Darling
I had so many questions and absolutely no answers. The one thing that I keep thinking about is the chance to follow in my Dad’s footsteps. I’ve spent years dreaming of becoming a SEAL. I still trust my Dad, and even in this time of doubt, my gut is telling me to trust him. I have to know the truth. No matter what it takes, I want to find out the truth about my Dad. I hit a button that returned the screen to its hiding spot within the seat and turned toward the window.
Tap, Tap.
The car door immediately opened and Uncle Keith looked at me for a few seconds.
“So, what do you think?”
“I want to know the truth and if my Dad has chosen me to follow in his footsteps, then I’ll do whatever it takes to honor his wishes.”
“All right Trevor, but I have to tell you that this is not going to be easy. I’ll do my best to prep you for Basic, but every year they come out with new challenges for the recruits. Don’t worry about that now. I’m getting ahead of myself. Your first challenge is going upstairs. I’m not sure how Charlotte is going to react to this.”
What did he mean, the first challenge? So I have to tell my Mom about the video I just saw? I barely understand what I just saw, and now I have to somehow explain this giant cover-up to my Mom?
“Uncle Keith I don’t understand. What exactly do you want me to tell my Mom?”
“Well, knowing Charlotte, she’s probably already packed and on her way downstairs. C’mon, we’ll go inside together.”
Not knowing what else to do or say, I got out of the car and followed Uncle Keith into the house. To my surprise, we found my Mom in the dining room spreading out bags of gear that I had never seen in my life. What baffled me even more was how my Mom was acting right now. She was moving around at a pace that I didn’t think was going to be possible for quite some time. I expected her to be lying on her bed crying like she has been for the last week; not rushing to pack up for a trip.
“Mom?”
She finished placing what looked like a pair of gloves in a side pocket of one of the duffle bags. We made eye contact and she let out a huge sigh. Hoping to get an actual response this time, I repeated my question; “Mom?”
“Eight years ago your father showed me a similar video to the one he just showed you. He couldn’t tell me in person either. He did eventually confront me, but that was after lots of fights over the phone, sleepless nights, confusion, and me being on the brink of suicide. I know how you’re feeling, Trevor. He lied to me too.”
The confusion had just amplified itself and all of this information was swirling around in my head like a blender. So my Mom had known about this secret life of his. How come he had only told her eight years ago? I was upset that he hadn’t told me until now, but of all the people in the world, how could Dad have lied to Mom like that? None of this was making any sense.
“Mom, please help me understand what’s going on.”
“There isn’t much that I can tell you. I only know a few small parts of what your father actually did and the people he was involved with. Unfortunately, he got in huge trouble when he told me the little that I know. If you want to know everything, you’re going to have to discover it yourself. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I’ll never know everything about Trent.”
My Mom finished packing up the bags. This was the most she’d said to me since getting home and I couldn’t decide if the silence was better than being confused. The tears had vanished and it was almost as if she was a different person. There’s no way she had moved on already unless the last week was all an act? But how could she fake emotion like that?
I sensed a bit of pain in her voice when she said that she’d never know everything. That must have hurt so badly; to not know such a huge part of your husband’s life. I had thought my parents had this amazing relationship. Whenever they were together, they always appeared to be so in love. They were practically inseparable when they were home. But now I find out that their relationship wasn’t at all a fairytale. I mean, I’m sure every marriage isn’t perfect, but this seems like a more than just a small issue.
How could Dad do something like this to her? My entire view of him has changed in a matter of minutes. What on Earth was so bad that he couldn’t even tell his own family?
“Mom, in the video Dad said-.”
“Hush!”
My mom immediately stopped and glared at me.
“Do not tell me a single word about your video! Whatever he said to you is for you and you only.”
Now she is starting to scare me. She seems as if she’s afraid to know. What exactly is so scary about knowing what my Dad said to me?
“Keith, it’s time to go. Trevor, I packed up some clothes for you and some of your personal belongings. It’s probably going to be a while before you can come back here.”
I took one of the bags off the table and headed for the door. Uncle Keith and my mom grabbed the others. At this point, I didn’t know what to say or what to even ask. I’d never seen Mom act so strange before. Something in the back of my head is telling me to be quiet right now and to just observe the situation before making any more comments. I don’t know where we are going, but I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.
The three of us got back into the black Suburban along with the duffle bags that my Mom had packed. Uncle Keith drove once again. We pulled out of the driveway and I took one last good look at our house. I don’t understand why my Mom said that I may not be coming back for a while. And I still had no idea what my Dad had been talking about in that video. Succeed at what exactly? Not having any answers to this web of questions stuck in my head is really frustrating. I’m tempted to break the deafening silence in the car right now, but once again that voice in my head is telling me to hold back.
Just then Uncle Keith turned around to my Mom and I. “Charlotte, we’ll be at the airport in twenty minutes. Can you check to see if our tickets came through?”
Without skipping a beat, my Mom tapped the back of the driver’s seat and a screen appeared. It looked exactly like the one in the back of the passenger seat that I watched the video from my Dad on earlier. She slid the keyboard out from underneath the screen and began furiously typing on it. I still can’t believe how active she is. It was only a week ago that I landed in Boston and found her a crying mess in the airport. What’s even crazier is where I was and what I was doing just before I got the news that my Dad had passed.
Before I flew home to Boston I had been having the time of my life sailing on a commercial car ship, otherwise known as Roll On/Roll Off ship. I was currently a Midshipman at the United States Merchant Marine Academy. It’s one of the five Federal Service Academies, located in Kings Point, New York. In addition to taking over 150 credits worth of tough maritime classes, part of our curriculum at school required every midshipman to go to sea.
Midshipmen have to sail on either commercial or military vessels for a total of 300 days, which is mandated by the U.S. Coast Guard and allowed us to sit for our Merchant Marine licensing exams senior year. The sailing period, otherwise known as ‘sea year’, is broken up into two parts. The first part is four months long and takes place during our sophomore year. The second is eight months long and occurs during our junior year. I was about a third of the way through my first sailing period when I received word the news that my Dad had passed.
One of the best parts of sea year is being able to travel across the globe to various countries. The 200-meter long car ship, the M/V Green Wave, was my first assignment. The vessel was on a Far East run, traveling from Japan to Thailand to Singapore and then to various ports in Australia. The ship had loaded about 6,000 cars on its twelve cargo decks in Japan and then delivered shipments to the various countries we visited. We were about two weeks away from getting to Singapore, the port I had been originally going to discharge from a month later, but that all changed when the captain had called me on the radio.
After a long day of exploring the modern city of Melbourne, Jordan, my sea p
artner, and I had decided that it was time to head back to the ship. It was about eight at night by the time we reached the terminal and climbed back up the loading ramp of the Green Wave. Cars raced past us as we carefully stepped onto the rugged steel ramp.
Juan, the Able-bodied Seaman (AB) currently standing watch greeted us and signed us back onto the ship. He informed us that the ship was going to sail in less than an hour and that a pilot was going to be arriving shortly. We thanked him for the update, took the elevator back up to the deck where our rooms were and got ready for work. Jordan was the engine cadet so he headed down to the engine room and since I was the deck cadet, I headed out on deck to help the Third Mate finish cargo operations.
One of the most stressful times on a ship is right before it leaves port. On a car carrier, all of the lashings on the cars have to be checked in order to ensure each car’s safety during the voyage. A single mishap could cost the ship millions of dollars. In addition to securing the cargo, everything else on the car decks and around the ship has to be secured for sea, which means it has to be tied down in some fashion or stowed.
I met up with Charlie, the Third Mate, and helped him finish checking the lashings on Deck Five, where the final group of cars was being loaded. Just before we finished checking the lashings on those cars, I got a call on my radio from Captain Miller. He requested that I come up to his office immediately. My heart stopped for a few seconds as I quickly pondered why he would want to see me in his office. I had been on the ship for over two months and only visited his office twice. In fact, I had only spoken to him a handful of times. Captain Miller was a very private man and did not like to be disturbed, especially when he was busy working.
I rushed up to his office as quickly as I could. The last thing I wanted to do was keep him waiting. Once I got there, I slowly poked my head into his doorway. We made eye contact almost immediately. He instructed me to close the door and to take a seat. He looked very nervous as he ran his hands up and down a single sheet of paper. I cautiously sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk. The previous two times I was in his office were not positive experiences. Both times he had called me in to yell at me for doing something wrong. I had corrected both mistakes and made sure not to repeat them throughout the rest of the voyage. Because of those two instances, I worried why he wanted to see me.
My impatience got the best of me and I decided to ask if I was in trouble. Captain Miller wasted no time and told me right away that this was only the second time in his entire twelve years as a captain that he had had to tell someone that a loved one had passed away. My body froze as he said that. Captain Miller proceeded apologetically, “Your Uncle Keith called the company and asked that you be notified your father was killed in action.”
Looking back on how I reacted, I know I should have acted more professional. Instead, I got angry and called Captain Miller a liar. I said multiple things that I really shouldn’t have, and I hope I have the decency to never speak to a captain, or any person, the way I had ever again. I’m really surprised Captain Miller didn’t say anything back. All he did was apologize and then inform me that the ship was going to stay an extra two hours so I could gather my things and head to the airport. The company had been generous enough to purchase me a flight home all the way to Boston.
After yelling and cursing at Captain Miller for a few minutes, I ran back to my room only to find Jordan waiting for me. I immediately broke down and started crying as he offered up his own sympathy for what had happened. He hugged me as I continued to sob. I tried to collect myself after a few minutes, but I was still a mess. Jordan got me some water and told me to sit while he packed up all my stuff.
Finding out that my Dad had passed away without any family around sucked. However, having Jordan there when in needed someone most was one of the best things anyone has ever done for me. Captain Miller let him escort me to the airport along with the shipping agent. Jordan was a great sea partner and an even better friend. We said goodbye and he told me that he was looking forward to seeing me at school in a few months. Now, I’m not sure that’s even a possibility.
About two days later I landed in Boston and was greeted by Uncle Keith as soon as I exited the plane. He escorted me to baggage claim where Mom was waiting. As soon as I saw her, I ran right into her arms and we both hugged for a few minutes. She cried into my shoulder while I desperately fought back tears. A few squeaked out eventually but I didn’t care. In that moment I realized that my life would never be the same. Looking over at my mom, dry-eyed and focused on the computer screen, I never thought it was going to change like this.
Chapter Four: Six Months Of Hell
“Keith, tickets are here. Better step on it, though. The flight leaves in an hour.”
My Mom folded up the computer and I watched it disappear back into the seat. I want to ask where we are flying to, and if it has anything to do with my Dad, but once again I decided to hold my tongue.
The rest of the car ride was uneventful. I spent the duration staring out the window thinking about my Dad. I temporarily set aside the last two hours and just thought about what he was going to miss. He won’t be around to see any more hockey games, my graduation from the Academy, or even my wedding. Before he died, he had missed dozens of events that seemed important to me at the time. Birthday parties, hockey games, and school functions usually lacked his attendance but I never held it against him. I accepted that it was part of his job and that if he served then, he would eventually be there for me in the future. At least I thought he was serving our country as a Navy SEAL and doing that job. Regardless of what he was actually doing, he’s now going to miss everything. For the rest of my life there will always be a hole; a person that should be at my side, a figure missing from the picture, and most importantly a father that is supposed to be with his son.
My eyes tore up again and I quickly wiped them away as we pulled up to the terminal. Uncle Keith parked alongside the curb and the three of us exited the vehicle in unison. A man approached us as my Mom opened the trunk. The poorly dressed man and Uncle Keith shared a few words before he got into the driver’s seat of the vehicle. Uncle Keith walked around the back of the car and helped my Mom and I get the bags out of the trunk.
“Who is that?”
“Oh don’t worry about him. He’s going to take care of the car for us.”
The interaction seemed odd. There’s no sign indicating valet parking and the man did not look like any kind of airport employee. Thirty seconds later the Suburban disappeared into traffic and I followed Uncle Keith into the airport. I looked up to see which airline we are going to take. My eyes searched around until a giant “American Airlines” logo came into view. So we must be flying domestically. Realizing that we are probably only going somewhere in the U.S. immediately made me feel much better. I’m not really thrilled about flying again so soon. I had just flown on three different flights to get home, Melbourne to Sydney, then Sydney to Seattle, and then Seattle to Boston. I had tallied up the flight time and it totaled out around twenty-two hours, not including the time change. Needless to say, last week was the worst jet lag I’d ever experienced in my life.
We got to the check-in line and began going through the security stations. Typical airport procedures; shoes off, everything out of your pockets, metal detectors and armed security guards. All upgrades in security that were made after September 11th, 2001. I had had to go through several customs checks back in June before flying internationally to meet my ship in Singapore. This security point was going to be a breeze compared to that.
The process took about twenty minutes and we made it through security with no issues. Uncle Keith took our bags off the conveyor belt while my Mom and I put our shoes back on.
“Alright, give me the bags so I can check them and I’ll pick up our boarding passes. Why don’t you two go grab some food? I’ll meet you at Gate 32 in twenty.”
It’d been a few days since I’ve eaten anything substantial, and I know for a f
act that my Mom hasn’t eaten much either. It’s ironic because when I returned to my house from Australia, there were mountains of food in our pantry and refrigerator. All of our relatives and friends that came to pay their respects to my Dad at his funeral all brought some sort of food to our house. I guess they didn’t know what else to do for us, so they all just brought food. If we had stayed at home, we could have eaten like royalty for a month without having to make one trip to the grocery store. Now that we are in an airport, all we are most likely going to find is fast food. Then again, a little snack can’t hurt. Maybe my Mom will want to eat something now that she seems to have completely snapped out of her depression.
After grabbing a few granola bars and some waters from one of the generic airport shops, we walked over and met up with Uncle Keith at Gate 32. He had saved us two seats next to him in the waiting area. The boarding process hadn’t begun yet but from the board, I can see that our flight is leaving soon. I also immediately noticed that the flight is heading to Las Vegas. Why on Earth are we going there? As we sat down. Uncle Keith handed us our boarding passes.
“OK, so we’re in seats 33A, B, C.”
I took my boarding pass and continued to wonder why we are traveling all the way out there. I’ve never been to Nevada before. Again, I want to ask Uncle Keith why we were going all the way out there, but right now doesn’t seem like the best time since he’s viciously scribbling down a bunch of information on his notepad.
“Now boarding all coach passengers for Flight 504 to Las Vegas.”
As soon as the announcement completed, most of the people in the waiting area jumped up and ran over to the line. The three of us followed suit and boarded the average sized airliner a few minutes later. We found our seats after slowly puttering along through the cramped aisle of the plane. As I sat down in my leather seat, I can’t help but notice the lack of empty seats. I’ve never been on a completely packed flight before. It probably has nothing to do with us. My mind is just consumed with paranoia, trying to pick up any clue I can in an effort to make sense out of this odd situation.