“Helluva cop-out, Albert. What’s really going on? You obviously have the strength to have made it through BUD/S on your own and with your class.”
“Yes,” said the Seaman, looking up. “I just…just can’t…”
“Can’t what?”
“Having my brother by my side made me feel stronger, as if I could conquer everything, and now I just keep messing up. I didn’t store my gear correctly, and another SEAL got hurt tripping over it. I screwed up at the gun range, and I’ve been shooting since I was ten years old.” Seaman Albert’s face was splotched with red and freckles.
“How did it make you feel?”
“Like a fool! That’s not me, but I can’t seem to get over that my brother’s not here, and when he calls me, he bitches me out for making it through when he’s stuck in the hospital with a broken femur.”
A light went on in Declan’s head. “I see. So when you don’t hear from him…”
“I’m fine.” Seaman Albert started to catch on. “When I talk to him, I fuck up. Pardon me the, uh, swearing, Master Chief.”
Nodding his head, Declan said, “No problem. You know that you’ve got a whole community of brothers now, right?”
“Uh, I guess I never thought of it that way.” Seaman Albert looked at the door. “Damn, I don’t want to get kicked out.”
“Me neither,” mumbled Declan.
“What did you say?” asked Seaman Albert, standing on his feet and looking at the closed door like a man on a mission.
“Uh…what are you going to do about it? More importantly, why did you want to become a SEAL? Start with that,” Declan advised.
“Yes, Master Chief. Thank you, Master Chief,” said Seaman Albert as he walked boldly up to the door and knocked on it.
The XO opened it and nodded at Declan. “Be with you shortly, Swifton. Seaman Albert, come on in. We were just talking about you.”
As the door closed, clapping sounded in the hall. The Commanding Officer of BUD/S, Commander Martin Parks, came around the corner.
Declan stood and shook hands. “Parks, it’s been a long time.”
“Sure has. Nice chat with that Seaman. Let’s step into the conference room a minute.” The Commander gestured with his hand.
They entered the room and sat down in chairs along the side.
“You were pretty good with him,” Parks began.
“Just some psychobabble I learned a while back. I think it’s called the velvet steamroller. Comes in handy.” Declan was curious why Parks wanted to chat.
“You’re two courses short of completing your coursework for your bachelor’s degree in counseling. How long would it take you to go on and get your master’s?” Park’s question was a leading one that could move them back into talking about the Teams or have Declan jumping into civilian life. The choice of direction was a no-brainer.
Declan recognized it and nodded his head. “I plan on finishing it up next spring. I could start the postgrad work the following semester.”
“You have a lot of self-motivation.” The statement didn’t need a response. “I heard about the last Op. You know how news travels.” Commander Parks rubbed his chin. “I came here today specially to ask the CO about you. What’s going to happen to you medically, etc. You know that Diego is retiring in four months, and there is no one at your level that isn’t already slotted in, so I’d like you to fill his shoes. He oversaw Third Phase. A new part of the duty is an additional program. You’d coordinate with a couple of retired frogmen who work in conjunction with a few headshrinkers and career-placement counselors, helping the tadpoles who ring out move back into the regular Navy. In a pinch, you might oversee the changeover of instructors for Conditioning/First Phase and Underwater Combat Skills/Second Phase responsibilities too. Pick up any extra slack. You know how it is.”
Declan knew very well how it was. He’d done his stretch at BUD/S before, but only as an instructor. Now he was being asked to be a coordinator of not one, but two programs: Third Phase of Land Warfare Training and the Transition-Out Program. He laughed silently.
“What?” asked Parks, with a curious expression on his face.
Declan couldn’t resist saying what was on his mind. “Damn, you want me to be a Gich.”
“Christ, there’s only one of those. Thank God.” He laughed, a bass-sounding chuckle. “But yeah. Pretty much.”
“If it means I can stay in the Teams, well, hell yes, I’m game.”
Commander Parks stood. “Good to hear. It’s damn hard to train people to do what comes naturally. Other branches keep trying to stick their folks in here, and none of them get it. SEALs need SEALs to train them; we’re just different. Let’s go talk to your CO and get this moving.”
Declan stood. As he started for the door, he paused. “My CO put you up to this, didn’t he?”
Parks didn’t speak for a few seconds. That was as much a confirmation as an actual reply. “He wouldn’t have recommended you if you weren’t perfect for this position. I, of course, completely agree.”
“That’s pretty flattering,” said Declan, feeling the emotion well inside of him. He thought of all the platoons of men that make up a Team and knew others who were in his boat, having lost arms and legs, eyes and ears, or had all sorts of injuries, and he felt damn lucky for an opportunity like this. Whatever it took from his end, and he had a strong notion of what that would be, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen.
* * *
Declan had had a full day. The doctor, the Commander of BUD/S, and then the meeting with his CO. It was full of highs and lows and a lot to take in.
Sitting on a sand dune overlooking Gator Beach was the ideal spot for Declan to contemplate his next step. The surf was good and a few SEALs were taking advantage of the afternoon waves and some extra downtime.
The stressors that had been bouncing around his body since he lost his leg were gone. According to his meeting with the CO, the odds were good that he would be rolling into a new assignment in a couple of months. It depended on his medical fitness and readiness. He knew he could make that happen.
Being in the Teams for over twenty-one years, most of his adult life, had taught him a lot about combat, for sure. But the main thing it had taught was courage and compassion and how to honor himself and his Teammates. He was the man that he wanted to be. It was hard to explain to outsiders what being in the military did for his life and how he was going to take that experience with him everywhere he went.
Looking up at the sky, he knew that Maura would be making her way to the balcony soon, waiting to watch the sunset. He liked that romantic part of her that loved nature.
He stood a little uneasily on the sand and took a step. The next thing he knew, he was sliding down the bank very ungracefully. He laughed, knowing it was easier to laugh at himself than to hear it from anyone else. “Well,” he said to the empty sand, “guess I had better get that new prosthetic handled before I fall on my face in front of the tadpoles.”
Then he pulled off the leg, dumped the sand out of the cup, and put it back on. He made it the twenty feet to Maura’s car, opened the door, and sat down. His phone beeped again, and he checked it. Maura wondered where he was. She was hungry.
Looking at his own midsection, he knew he needed to watch his intake. Since he was planning on teaching at BUD/S, he wanted to set an example, and that meant taking off the ten or so pounds he had put on while he was contemplating his life, or rather scratching his navel.
His mind flooded with possibilities of how he could put his plan into action, and he knew exactly where he wanted to begin the workout. It all involved a place called Froggy Squats and a certain lady who made him want to push himself to be his very best.
Chapter 17
Maura was as excited as a kid with a straight-A report card. Declan was on his way home, and she had so much to share with him. Her on
ly concern was that he hadn’t said anything about his appointment with the doctor or the meeting with his CO when she’d talked to him on the phone.
She wanted to put him at ease and didn’t know whether she should greet him at the door wearing a negligee or stay in her blue jeans and T-shirt. Was it appropriate that her shirt said, “Split much? Mine is better than yours.”
Rummaging around in her dresser drawer, she found fifty shirts with gymnastics sayings on them. Pulling out a sleeveless camisole with lace around the neckline was definitely the best option.
Dashing to the bathroom, she brushed her hair and added a few dabs of her colored lip balm to give her a little sparkle. The thought of going all girly made her laugh out loud. She liked that her someone special was thinking of her as a woman and not a tomboy in grown-up clothes.
In the kitchen, she surveyed her options. Choosing two wineglasses, two plates, forks, and knives as well as spring water and red wine, she filled a tray and headed out onto the balcony for their dinner outside. She was excited to hear his news.
Thinking about her own, she ran back into the apartment and pulled out a thick envelope. Inside was the signed contract turning Froggy Squats officially over to her. All those years of earning purses for her gymnastic events and it had turned into this…she was the owner of a gym.
Pouring herself a glass of wine, she took several sips of the “two-buck chuck,” trying to steel her nerves for some actual relaxation, but those worries sat there like a blazing sun. And though the actual sun would eventually sink and give the watchers a show, she knew her concerns would keep pecking at her happiness.
* * *
Maura was startled awake by a hand on her shoulder. “What?”
Her handsome beau was smiling down at her. “Are you ready for dinner? Or would you rather call it a night?”
“Dinner please. And I want to hear about your day.”
“Okay.” He put the bag of food on the table and sat down on the chair on the other side.
Opening the bag, she withdrew the containers of food and pulled off the tops. They had a standing agreement that they’d each help themselves.
When she was done, he took the containers and added food to his plate. Seagulls danced overhead, begging for food. Neither of them gave in to the ravenous flying garbage gulls. The curry would probably sizzle their insides.
Reaching for the spring water, Declan drank half of the gallon bottle without even using the glass. Wiping his mouth with the napkin, he pushed the plate aside and said, “The good news is that I might have new duty at BUD/S, and the bad news is that I need surgery sooner rather than later. I’m good with the job, but the surgery has a lot of unknowns still.”
“Okay,” said Maura, recognizing the “I don’t want to talk about it” look in his eyes. “Well, um, congrats on the job.”
“Yeah.” He looked at her steadily. “Don’t be so concerned, Maura. When I know more, we’ll discuss it, and if surgery means that I can run and work out and pretty much be me again, then I am all for it being ASAP.”
Maura nodded her head. “I’m in your corner.”
“I know. Thanks for that and for not pushing me to elaborate until I know more.” He picked up the envelope. “What’s this?”
She gestured with her hand that he should examine them. She watched as he pulled the papers out and read them.
“Hey!” he said, standing up. “This is great news!” Carefully, he put the papers back inside the envelope and stuck the wine bottle on top so it would have no chance of being blown away. Then he walked around the table and pulled her out of her seat and into his arms.
He kissed her. “Why didn’t you tell me your news right away? This is wonderful! You must be so happy.”
Snuggling her head against his chest, she smiled. “I am.” Looking up at his grinning face, she said, “I’m thrilled. It’s a whole new experience for me, not only owning the gym but knowing my past has fueled this triumph.”
“Are you going to compete in any of the gym or parkour competitions?”
She didn’t know. How did she admit that sometimes her own fears got the best of her, when he was facing greater challenges with a brave gusto that could conquer an army?
“Maura.” He touched her chin, tipping her face up to his. “I’ve been honest with you. It’s your turn.” He assisted her into her own chair and reached over and lifted his own, so they could sit side by side.
“You’re right. I’m…scared.” Saying those words was like opening her soul and showing him her flaws. “I have a hard time letting go of fear, even when I want to more than anything.”
Declan didn’t miss a beat. “Shit! That’s natural. What’s the fear saying to you? Give it a voice.” There was no judgment, just another unique Declanism to remember.
“I don’t want to set myself up for a competition and then have another accident.” The image was a giant dragon about to devour her sense of confidence, and she hated having to admit it. “See, I’m not that strong. Look at you, you can face problems and it doesn’t even give you a second thought.”
“Yes, it does,” he admitted. “I take plenty of time to think about the issues that come my way. But my goal, or rather the desire to reach my goal, is greater than any fear I have. Only one emotion can win: desire or fear. So I chose desire.”
She shook her head, feeling tears sting her eyes. “I’m not that brave.”
“You’re choosing that emotion.”
Her anger pricked. “No. I’m not. It’s reality.”
His voice was calm, almost serene, and that pissed her off even more. “Maura, what do you want? Why did you buy the gym?”
She took a deep breath, bringing her feelings from a ten to a two on the anxiety scale, and said, “I bought the gym so I could pass on my love of it to kids, teens, and adults and continue to build my proficiency with parkour.”
“That’s your ultimate desire.”
“Yes, and my secondary wish is to compete again. Gym to gym. Maybe even build a few careers for some of the members and their kids. I know that world like I know how to breathe: what it takes to reach the Olympic tryouts and how to balance school, family, and life.” Warmth spread through her body as she found herself talking passionately about what she craved. Turning to him, she said, “How…do I control…my fear?”
“I bet you can answer it. How did you do it in competition?”
She closed her eyes and pushed her chin forward. “I know that I’m the best and my performance will be awesome. I can see every move in my head. I run through the routine before I step onto a piece of equipment or the mat, and then when I am sure, I begin.”
Opening her eyes, she added, “I repeat it exactly as I rehearsed it in my mind, and if something deviates, I improvise.” She could feel the smile blooming on her face and the glint in her eye that was always there when she competed. “Like a song playing in my head, the rhythms play out, and when I’m done, I know I’ve hit my mark and been successful.”
“That’s the feeling you hold on to, the knowledge of your capability and belief in yourself. That’s the key to achievement. The rest of it…any anxiety…” He rubbed his hands together and then wiped away the imaginary dust. “Let it go. Success only.” He grabbed her playfully, tickling her, and then pulled her close.
She loved being enveloped in the protectiveness of his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder, feeling the vibration of his chest with her hand as he talked.
“Control what you have control over. Everything else…deal with it as it comes.” He drew in a long breath. “If we try to control forces that aren’t ours, our efforts will be met not only with failure, but with enormous frustration.”
She nodded against his shoulder. “Control my internal dialogue. Concentrate on what I know, what I love.” She wiggled against him. “I love you.”
“I love y
ou too. We make excellent teammates.” Tapping her on the shoulder, he pointed.
She looked up just in time to see the green flash as the sun sank behind the horizon. Thank you, God, thank you for the gift of Declan.
Chapter 18
An arm hit Maura in the stomach, simultaneously taking the wind out of her and waking her instantly. She sat up and pushed Declan’s arm off of her, but it took her a few seconds to catch her breath.
Looking at the clock, she frowned. It was four in the morning.
Declan groaned.
She reached over to wake him from whatever nightmare he was having, only to find his body covered in sweat. She threw back the covers and felt around his body.
The stump of his leg was slick. Reaching for the light, she flipped it on and examined the limb. The color was bluish in places and his body was on fire.
“Declan, wake up,” she ordered. Panic laced through her when he didn’t respond. She punched him in the arm.
“Naghhhh,” he said as he pulled the pillow over his head. “Too bright.”
“Don’t do that. You need to wake up.” She used all her strength to pull him over. “Declan!”
His body was eerily still. His face looked flushed and his breathing was shallow.
Stretching her arm to the bedside table, she dialed 911. “Emergency. I need an ambulance.” As she explained his condition, she pulled on jeans, a bra, and a shirt. Slipping her feet into her running shoes, the closest shoes she could find, she went to the front door and opened it, repeating her address to the dispatcher.
They wanted her to stay on the phone until the ambulance arrived, so she left it on and placed it on the bedside table. Digging Declan’s phone out of his pants, she dialed the number of Dr. Ekkert.
“Answering service. What message would you like to leave? Please start with your name and phone number,” said a firm female voice on the other end.
“This is an emergency. I’m calling for Declan Swifton, one of Dr. Ekkert’s patients. He’s unconscious and running a temperature. His leg has a bluish tinge.” Maura could hear her voice climbing as she recited his stats again. “He’s not responding and I’ve called an ambulance.”
SEAL Forever Page 17