by Robert Child
Joe lingered a moment ignoring Lonny’s comment about his two dog tags. It had only confirmed to him that everything he had endured was real. After Lonny had rushed out of the cabin to his battle station, Joe took Sam by the shoulder and they headed up the steel ladder to the flight deck. Sailors were rushing to their destinations with determined faces.
Joe’s group now numbering twenty strong was met by Petty Officer Ronald Dawkins as they emerged on the flight deck, “You men, get to your battle stations! Right now!” he shouted.
“What’s going on?” Joe shouted back.
“Jap sub was sighted four miles out.”
Joe and the men looked over to the flight deck as the last of the 13 torpedo bombers lifted off.
“Now you men get…”
The Petty Officer stopped mid sentence at the sound of a violent explosion. All the men turned to see a 200 foot water spout surface 6,000 yards away near the destroyer Hoel.
The destroyer Hoel had scored a direct hit with its salvo of depth charges on Japanese submarine I-175. Japanese Commander Sumano Tabata and all 100 hands perished that instant in the blast, but not before they were able to launch a single fully armed but somewhat damaged Type 95 torpedo from a bow tube.
Ensign Tom Yuill surveyed the explosion through binoculars a short distance away at Liscome’s 40mm gun. Peering out to sea, he spotted an erratic white bubbling wake in the inky black water. He shouted, “Torpedo! Here comes a torpedo!”
Joe and the men rushed to the starboard rail in the direction of the explosion and onrushing torpedo. The Type 95 was the fastest and the most explosively powerful torpedo launched by any Navy on earth. But this Type 95 was not traveling at its normal speed of 90/kph. It was traveling at half that speed and arcing on a path that appeared to be veering away from the carrier.
Joe and the men watched the white arcing wake coming toward them and held their collective breaths. At about 70 yards distant, the torpedo continued on its westerly arc, which sent it sailing past the carrier, narrowly missing the bow by just 15 yards.
The men surrounding Joe cheered, as did Petty Officer Dawkins. Others dropped to their knees and gave thanks. Joe simply closed his eyes in silent prayer and looked down and lifted up the second dog tag hanging from his neck. THEODORE AIKINS, 337984 C, Type A, USN.
DAYTON, OHIO
Frank, in deep concentration in Maria’s wingback chair for the last two hours, had recounted new memories of his life with his father. His memories had been at times silly, other times deeply moving, but for Frank they now were reality. Frank felt an intense growing and palpable distance from his current life as if he were rushing on a bullet train still sitting in his chair. His short-term memory seemed completely gone all that remained were images of his family. The people he loved. He couldn’t remember what he did for work or even his address. And he didn’t even care as he held his eyes shut reliving his spiraling new memories in his mind.
“All right, we’ve come to your last significant memory. You are about to celebrate your seventieth birthday with your family, and your Dad is going to be there,” Maria said. Frank heard her voice, but she seemed to be speaking to him from thousands of miles away like she was calling to him from across an ocean. “Place yourself there,” Maria continued. “I want you to experience every sight, smell, and sound from that day. I want you to…” And then her voice in Frank’s head went silent as the room and the chair itself started to spin. He tried to open his eyes, but they would not budge. It was the same feeling he had during the visions of his father on the ship. Someone or something was keeping his eyes closed. Suddenly the swirling of the room stopped like he had entered the eye of a hurricane. He heard a loud crack, then a voice. It grew louder and more intense. The voice was speaking nonsense. Just banter and small talk. He felt like he was traveling at rocket speed toward it, still unable to open his eyes. For the first time in the whole process, Frank was terrified.
USS LISCOME BAY 0900 HOURS 23 NOVEMBER 1943
Joe returned to his cabin after securing his battle station. He felt exhausted by the rollercoaster of emotions and the day’s events. He felt his body slowing, not tiring, simply slowing. That’s the only way he could describe it. His movements seemed to take longer removing his shirt, then taking off his boots took forever. He felt new aches and pains in his lower back, which hadn’t been there before. His mind also seemed to be flashing images of memories he didn’t recognize… memories of his son. He felt queasy, as the room itself seemed to start spinning. He rushed into the head to splash cold water on his face to see if it would help. As he leaned over the small white porcelain sink and turned on the tap, the bathroom itself began to change. It was not spinning. It was changing! Joe quickly doused his face with water and finally looked in the mirror. To his shock, he had become an old man in his 80’s! He did not have on his white Navy tee shirt. He was wearing a red knit polo and a blue windbreaker. His hair was completely white, and his face sagged and was deeply lined. On the top of his head was a black baseball cap with gold stars and the words USS LISCOME BAY (CVE-56), WWII VETERAN.
BARBER SHOP, DAYTON OHIO
Frank jolted to consciousness in a brown barber chair and finally was able to open his eyes.
“Hey whoa, whoa there, Frank, don’t move so quick. Don’t want to cut an ear off with these scissors.”
“Stan?” Frank asked recognizing his cousin.
“What, did you forget my name after all these years?” he said as he chuckled. “You nodded off for a couple minutes, but I didn’t disturb you cause you were keeping still.”
Frank immediately jumped to his feet trying to get his bearings as Stan looked at him strangely.
“Stan, what day is this? What year is this?”
“Well, last time I checked it was 2013. As for the day, it’s your birthday.”
“My seventieth birthday?”
“Yep. Hey, Frank, you okay? You need a drink of water or something?”
Frank waved him off, “No, no. Maybe I’ll just use the restroom.” He needed a moment to splash water on his face and regroup.
“Sure, sure.” Stan said, “but your Dad’s still in there.”
“Wait a minute, Stan, did you say my Dad? He’s alive?”
Stan chuckled, “As far as I know, but he has been in the john a long while. Maybe we should check on him.” Stan yelled toward a small wooden door at the back of the barbershop. “Hey, J. R., everything coming out okay in there? Don’t be messing up my plumbing.”
Frank peered in the direction of the bathroom door.
Inside the bathroom, Joe Rusk stared at himself in the mirror and turned toward the voice.
“J. R.? Who me?” he responded.
“Unless you got someone else with you in there, J. R.” Stan looked at Frank and laughed. “Your son thinks you’ve been in there so long he’s afraid you passed away.”
Joe’s eyes widened. Frankie?
Frank froze as inside the bathroom Joe twisted the door handle.
Frank trembled as he watched the door open slowly and an elderly man appear.
Tears instantly rolled down both cheeks as he called out, “Pop! Oh my God! Pop!”
“Frankie?” Joe asked as he shuffled out, tears springing to his eyes..
Stan stood watching the two, completely bewildered, but making a joke to cover the moment. “Jeeze, you’d think you guys had never seen each other before.”
Joe looked at the barber and smiled as Frank rushed to embrace him, and Joe commented, “How right you are.”
Frank wrapped his arms tight around his father as Joe reached up a wrinkled hand and caressed his son’s face.
“Boy, I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too. I love you, Dad.”
“You were my reason to keep fighting, Frankie. To keep living. You mean more to me, son, than you can ever know.”
Stan stood barber scissors in hand staring at the two. He did not understand what was happening, but he brought a hand
up to his eye and brushed away an unexpected tear and wiped his nose and said, “Hey, why don’t you two guys get outta here. You don’t want to miss your own birthday party, Frank.”
Frank turned back to Stan, then looked back at his father.
“I guess we should we go meet the family.” Joe said.
“Yeah, Pop. Let’s go do that.”
Frank put an arm around his Dad and led him out of the shop to the car. He never wanted to let go.
DAYTON, OHIO
On the ride home, Frank and Joe both felt there was so much to say but nowhere to begin, so they rode in silence for a short while. Then Frank finally turned to his Dad.
“Is this real, Pop? I mean is this some kind of crazy, wonderful dream and I’m going to wake up any second? If it is, I don’t want to wake up.”
“I really don’t know, son. I feel real. I’ve got new aches and pains I never felt. You look real. How is this possible?”
Joe pondered a moment then glanced out the window to strange modern day sights. He chose his words carefully, “Frankie, I’m not smart enough to dream this or make this stuff up. This world. This car. The way you look. I’m just not that clever.” Then he smiled.
Frank laughed. His apprehension eased.
“It sure feels real to me, Frankie. The only thing that’s never changed is my love for you, son. It’s the only thing I had in ’43 and it’s the only thing I still got.
“Me too.” Frank said as his eyes teared once again and he continued to drive.
RUSK HOME, DAYTON, OHIO
Frank found the address that was listed on his driver’s license. It was in a nice part of town on Crestwood Avenue. As he pulled in the driveway with his Dad he thought, 1291 Crestwood Avenue seemed strangely familiar.
“Nice home, son, looks like you’ve done well.”
“Yeah, sure does. This world’s new to me too.”
Frank and his Dad approached and finally stood at the door.
“Well?” Joe asked.
“Yeah, right.” Frank said as he knocked twice.
“It’s your house, Frankie.”
Frank laughed hard. His Dad had a great sense of humor. Of course it was his house. What was he thinking? He found what looked like a front door key and used it to unlock the door. The door opened.
“SURPRISE!”
Frank and Joe entered to see thirty of their family and closest friends welcoming them to Frank’s surprise seventieth birthday party.
Scanning the room Frank finally caught sight of her…Katie. Thank God! He didn’t think it possible, but she was even more beautiful in this new parallel world. And, yes, oh yes, there was his son Ben and the twins in the middle of the crowd. It was perfect!
“Who’s the beautiful woman?” Joe asked his son, nudging Frank from his moment of wonder as Katie approached them.
“We were starting to wonder about you two. What took you so long?”
Frank kissed his wife and said, “We had some catching up to do.” He winked at his father who grinned.
“Well, come on in. Come on in. Let’s get this party started.”
Frank had never been so deeply and truly happy in his entire life. His impossible wish had defied time and the laws of the Universe to come true.
After cake and coffee, Frank and his Dad began to pour over the old photo albums that the kids had hauled out. So many moments. So many memories. So much love.
They came to one particular album with a green canvas cover and Katie said, “Oh, looks like the kids brought out one of your old albums too, Joe.”
Joe lifted the photo album to his lap. He opened the cover and on the first cardboard page under the cellophane, the face of Theo Akins stared back at him. In the yellowed photo from the 70’s, Theo and Joe were standing in front of a group of flags with some other men at some veterans’ event.
Joe gasped. “My God. Theo Akins?”
Katie laughed, “Theo? You used to call him Cousin Akins.”
Joe agreed with Katie, “Oh, yeah right. Hey, how is ah…Cousin Akins? I want to give him a call.”
Katie looked at Joe and said sweetly, “Don’t you remember? He passed away last year. You attended his funeral.”
“Oh, of course, how stupid of me. I forget sometimes.” Joe said as he mourned the loss of his friend once again.
“It was so nice of his son to give you Cousin Akins’s things from the war. He really felt you should have them.”
“What things from the war?” Joe asked not catching himself. He really did have to get up to speed with this new world.
“Oh, you remember, just some small things that he thought you’d like to have including Cousin Akin’s dog tags.”
THE NEXT DAY
Joe had Frank drive him out to Green Lawn cemetery where Theo had been laid to rest. Frank maneuvered the car up the narrow drive and spotted Theo’s gravestone near the front.
“There it is, Pop.” Frank stopped and put the car into park.
Joe sighed, “Someday I’ll tell you the story of this great man. I just don’t think I got it in me today.”
“I understand, Pop. You go visit him.”
Joe gathered himself and reached in his windbreaker pocket.
“I also gotta return something.” His hand closed around something tucked safely in his pocket. Theo’s Navy dog tags from Molokai.
Frank nodded as Joe exited the car and approached the grave.
Frank decided to get out of the car too in case his Dad needed him.
Joe stood a moment in silence ten feet from the grave then spoke. “Theo, you made me want to live again. You convinced me never to give up hope. No matter which world we were in, I guess we were always meant to be friends. You made me believe in heroes. You made me believe in getting home.” Then Joe’s trembling hand reached into his pocket for the dog tags, and he placed them on top of the granite gravestone.
“These rightly belong to you.”
Then Joe snapped and held a salute. In his mind he heard soft and distant taps play.
Frank bowed his head as his father brought his salute back down and turned back to him. “Son, maybe there’s something almost as strong as the love of a father and a son.”
Frank nodded for his father to continue.
“Maybe one more thing that can never die. The love for a friend.
***
Author’s End Notes
I’d like to thank you for reading Ghost Carrier. It was written over the span of three years during a very intense passage in my life. Perhaps though that backdrop served to allow me to intensify the emotions in the story as well. Or at least leave a lasting impression as a book you could not put down and will remember for a while. One can only hope.
I’d like to gratefully acknowledge my editors who helped with this effort. First, Sandra Tabor, a terrific writer in her own right and the best copy editor I have ever worked with. She always brings things to my attention that I’d never even considered. And second is the invaluable Lee Heinrich at Write Way Publishing. Lee edits as an avid reader and knows what needs to be in a top notch story. She worked hard with me to make this book the best it could be and I can’t thank her enough.
If you enjoyed this book I’d be grateful if you took 30 seconds out of your day and left some kind words on Amazon. Heck at the very least it creates good karma that could come back to you. You never know.
Again thanks for reading the book and check out my other titles. I’ll even send you two books free if you visit my website and sign up for the monthly newsletter. It takes seconds to sign up with just your email at this address: www.robchild.net.
All my best,
Rob
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