1800- Finally, it’s time for liberty call!
I had spent all day immersed in the fascinating work of manually chipping, scraping and sanding the mast.
Off with the old rust and paint, and on with the ‘red lead’. Which was Navy slang for red paint/primer. I assumed it had lead in it. It was an educated guess, mind you, but I think I was correct in that assumption.
Why did we use it? Well, I never thought to ask. Please standbye. I’ll be back in a flash.Okay. I’m back. Fast huh? I found this:
http://www.kellco.com/helpful/help_lead_primer.html
Ooh, scary. Now they tell me. How am I gonna get the lead out?
Don’t ask me why, but I have a hunch it’s not as dangerous as they say.
Be that as it may, now I remember why we used it: because it worked.
There are other sites that explain the chemical composition of red lead, white lead, zinc chromate, etc., drying times vs temp, and other questions you may have about it.
Meanwhile, back at the USS Duluth…
After a shower and change to civvies, not to mention a bit of old spice aftershave, I was ready to go.
“Where are you headed, Ben?” Rick asked,
“I’m goin’ to the club. Still not 21 yet,” I said.
“I know what you mean. Mind if I join you?” Rick asked.
“Sure, as long as you don’t ask me to dance,” I said, laughing.
“No offense, but you’re not my type,” Rick said, chuckling.
“I don’t know if my self esteem can recover from that,” I said, heading for the quarterdeck.
“It’s nothin’ personal,” Rick said, smiling.
“That’s a relief. I feel better already,” I said. “Not to mention, I’m too tired to dance.”
“I hear that. Ice cold beer and good music is all I want,” Rick said.
“Good music?” I asked.
“Yeah. Rock n’ roll, country rock, southern rock, country southern rock…I’m not to partial to disco though,” Rick said, as we made our way off the ship and to the bus stop.
“Long as they don’t play polka,” I said, lighting up a smoke.
“No. I never heard ‘em play polka,” Rick said, lighting up his own smoke.
I was tired, and my muscles were sore as hell, but it was good to get off the ship for awhile. I was sick of all the dust and noise.
“Do you have a bus schedule?” I asked.
“No, but it shows up about every 30-40 minutes. Until 0200 that is,” Rick said.
“Hopefully we don’t have long to wait,” I said, walking faster.
As we approached the bus stop I saw a familiar face. Is that? Yep, it’s Bugeyes!
I hope he’s taking his meds, I thought.
Bugeyes noticed us and jumped up, watching us intently.
“This guy is really weird. I think he’s off his rocker,” Rick said.
“Yeah, we met,” I said, keeping an eye on him. “We got in a little scuffle…well, not really a scuffle. He tried to kick me once, and cried when I stopped him. No one was hurt. The bus driver said he had some mental problems,” I muttered, so Bugeyes wouldn’t hear.
What was his name again? I wondered.
“They’re coming! Watch out! They’re coming for you!” Bugeyes yelled, looking up and back down at us.
“Okaaayyy,” Rick said, as we approached.
“I know you!” Bugeyes exclaimed, pointing at me.
Crap. Now what?
“Uh, hi,” I said, not knowing what to say.
“You are the kung fu master! Will you train me?” Bugeyes asked, bowing his head.
“Well, I’m sort of busy tonight,” I said.
“Kung fu master?” Rick asked, smiling.
“Just one lesson…please?” Bugeyes asked. “I need to be ready. When they return,” whispered Bugeyes, looking around again.
“Who do you mean?” I asked.
“You know, them, sensei,” he said, looking up.
“You mean Angels?” Rick asked.
“Nooo. THEM! The aliens!” Bugeyes yelled, then quickly covered his mouth.
Charlie. His name is Charlie.
“Look, Charlie. Don’t worry,” I said, wondering what to say.
“You’ll fight them, huh? You ain’t scared, sensei,” Charlie said, bowing his head again.
Sheesh! Where’s the bus? I wondered.
“No, I’m not scared. You don’t have to be scared, Charlie,” I said, feeling sorry for the guy.
“But…they hurt me!” Charlie said, looking agitated and scared. “Just one lesson?” He pleaded.
“Maybe he means a gang,” Rick offered.
“Yeah, probably,” I said. “I don’t know what to show him.”
“How about a kick?” Rick asked.
“Alright, Charlie? Yeah, watch me. When you kick, kick low,” I said, demonstrating.
“I can do that. Like this?” Charlie asked, almost falling.
“Yeah, but faster. Practice kicking until you can keep your balance and work on your speed. Make sure you only kick at an enemy. Only someone who hurts you,” I said.
“Thank you, thank you! I will practice, master!” He said, much happier, practicing his kicks.
“Will you teach me master?” Rick asked, bowing.
“Yeah, sure Rick. I’m kinda booked up this week though,” I said, chuckling.
“I used to train. Tae Kwon Do. I never could get past brown belt,” said Rick.
No way! Rick practicing martial arts?
“No doubt you know more than I do,” I said, looking at my watch. “I never studied in a dojo. I just know a few things.”
“I don’t know about that. Hey! There’s the bus,” Rick said.
Charlie kept kicking, oblivious to the bus.
“Um, Charlie? The bus is here,” I said.
“Okay. Thank you,” Charlie said, smiling.
“Your welcome,” I said, getting some change out of my pocket. “Remember, only fight if you have to,” I added.
“Okay. I will, sensei,” Charlie nodded.
We got on the bus, and Charlie followed.
“Good evening Charlie,” the driver said.
“Hi Bill. I’m learning from a master!” Charlie exclaimed pointing at me.
The driver glanced at me. Terrific.
“Learning what Charlie?” The driver asked.
“How to fight!” he said, grinning.
“You remember what Sister Sarah told you?” Bill asked.
“Uhuh, she said to run from fights!” Charlie said.
“That’s right. You run,” Bill said, glaring at me.
Good grief!
“You leave Charlie alone, you hear?” Bill said to me, looking angry.
“What? I didn’t hurt him,” I said.
“I won’t tolerate anyone picking on him on my bus!” Bill exclaimed.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” I said.
“Good. I’m glad you understand,” Bill said, leaving the bus stop.
“What’s his problem?” Rick whispered.
“Beats me,” I said. “I think he thinks we were picking on Charlie.”
“But why?” Rick asked.
“I dunno. I guess it has happened before,” I said.
“Do you have a wise saying, sensei?” Charlie asked, turning around to look at me.
Jeez, what do I say?
“Sure Charlie. Treat people like you want to be treated,” I said.
“Thank you sensei!” Charlie said, bowing again.
I wish he would quit calling me that.
Charlie turned around and started repeating what I said, over and over.
“Good one…sensei,” Rick said, smiling.
“Thank’s, grasshopper,” I said, glancing at my watch again.
When the bus stopped we got up to leave.
“I’m sorry if I jumped to conclusions,” Bill said, as I passed him.
“No problem. I understand,” I said.
“That was weird,” Rick said.
“That’s an understatement, Rick. How far is the club?” I asked.
“About a 10, 15 minute walk,” he said.
It was a good sized club. Bigger than the one at Damneck, Virginia.
It wasn’t very crowded.
Rick found a clean table. How about here?” He asked.
“Looks good enough for me,” I said, plopping myself down and lighting up.
“The service here sucks, so I’ll go get the first pitcher,” Rick said, walking towards the bar. “Back in a sec..”
“Roger that,” I said, reaching for my wallet.
“First one’s on me,” Rick said, calling back.
I wasn’t going to argue with that. I surveyed the club, spying a lit up dance floor,
with no one dancing, and a big jukebox.
I liked jukeboxes. As long as the music was good, that is.
“Welcome to the hotel California…”
Good tune. I wonder if they serve food here? I thought, as my stomach growled.
I had missed evening chow.
Rick returned with a pitcher full of beer and two glasses. He handed me one after filling it.
“Ahh! That hits the spot!” I exclaimed, after a long drink. It wasn’t bad.
“Do they serve food here?” I asked.
“Yeah. Until 2100 I think,” Rick said. “hold on,” he said, as he walked over to the next table and grabbed a menu.
“Thanks Rick,” I said, looking it over. Prices were kinda steep for my salary.
$5.95 for a steak dinner? But my stomach won out, eventually.
“Are you gettin’ anything?” I asked.
“I’m gettin’ the fried chicken and mashed ‘taters and gravy,” Rick said, entranced by the pictures.
“Or maybe the pork chops and stuffing…” he continued.
“Can I help you?” A woman asked as she approached our table. I figured she was a waitress. Service picked up when ordering food.
“Yes. May I have the sirloin dinner, medium rare, and salad?” I asked.
“Do you want butter or sour creme on that?” She asked.
“Yeah. Butter please,” I said.
“Well aren’t you polite. What will you have sugah?” She asked looking at Rick.
“I’ll have the fried chicken dinner, and the soup please,” Rick said.
“Okey dokey! Do y’all want any dessert? Oh wait. I’m sorry. I’m supposed to ask after you eat your meal,” she said, flustered.
“No need to aopologize,” Rick said. “I’m sure I’ll want dessert if your serving it.”
Rick was flirting, and it looked like the waitress liked him. I looked at the waitresses name tag. Sue.
“Oh, why thank you sugah!” Sue said, with a noticable southern accent.
Rick looked lovestruck. Or close to it anyway.
“Now don’t you go nowhere. I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Sue said. She is energetic, I thought.
“A toast!” I said.
“Huh? What?” Rick asked, staring at Sue.
“A toast! To liberty call!” I said, as we toasted.
“To Sue!” Rick said, grinning ear to ear.
“I think she likes you,” I said.
“Well I sure like her!” Rick said with gusto.
That was obvious, even to me. I wasn’t sure if Sue was being so nice because she liked Rick or if she was always like that.
On the other hand, Rick was sure.
“Do I look alright?” Rick asked, whipping out his comb.
“How would I know?” I replied. “I guess you look okay.”
“What about my hair?” He asked.
“They have mirrors in the head,” I said, drinking some more beer.
“Your a big help,” Rick said.
“Trust me. I’m no Romeo coach,” I said.
“Aww, unlucky in love?” Rick asked.
“Of course not!” I said, too defensively to be convincing.
“It’s cool. I’m no Romeo either,” Rick said.
“All I meant was…let’s just forget it okay?” I asked.
“Right…okay,” he said, raising his glass.
“She’s special,” Rick swooned.
“How do you know? You just met her,” I said.
“I dunno. I just know. She shines, you know?”
Shines? Man, he has it bad.
“Okay. I’ll take your word for it,” I said.
“I’ll be right back,” Rick said, heading for the head.
I lit up another smoke and refilled my glass. I glanced over at the bar and saw Sue talking to some guy. When they kissed, I choked on my beer. Poor Rick! What do I say? Should I say anything? Maybe that’s her brother…nope. Still kissing.
Probably not her brother. A minute later they finally broke it up.
“How do I look now?” Rick asked as he returned.
“Clean,” I said.
“Clean? Clean?” What the hell does that mean?” Rick asked, perplexed.
“It means you aren’t dirty,” I said, laughing.
“I know what it means, I was asking about…”
“Here we go! You had the steak?” I nodded. “And here’s your fried chicken, sugah!” Sue said.
“Thanks Sue!” Rick said, hypnotized.
“My pleasure! You just call if you need anything, okay honey?” She asked, batting her eye lashes.
Damn! I have to tell him! But how? Maybe I should mind my own business. No! Rick was my friend. If I could spare him some pain…
“Rick? Rick? Hey Rick!” I said, getting louder to break the spell.
“Eh? What’s up?” Rick asked, watching Sue.
“I…um..well, you see…I have to warn you!” I exclaimed.
Why was this so hard?
“What do you mean?” Rick asked, still entranced with Sue.
“Damnit Rick! Look at me! This is important!” I said, gathering up the nerve to tell him.
Testing