Wright adjusted his sunglasses as he turned the corner at the enlisted men’s barracks and sped down the narrow street. Checking his appearance in the rear view mirror, he screeched the 1939 Ford convertible into the Naval Hospital parking lot, drawing attention from several pedestrians. Wright simply smiled and waved. He felt alive again behind the wheel. The car belonged to Carl and Barbara Hub-ley. The couple was renting a small beach house on the east side of Oahu for the weekend and did not intend to be seen by anyone, so they had been more than willing to lend the car to Wright.
Wright could not believe that he was back in the land of the living. The sights, smells, and sounds of the beautiful island overloaded his diesel-saturated senses. When Mackerel pulled in that morning, Tremain had been gracious enough to let most of the crew check into the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in downtown Honolulu. Wright had rushed over there with Joe Salisbury and George Olander to secure himself a room, leaving Tee stuck on board with the duty.
Strangely, Tee had not complained much about it, and Wright had noticed a distinct difference in Tee in the last few weeks. In fact, Tee had been much better toward Wright, and toward everyone else for that matter, on the journey home. The man was not quite amiable yet, but better, and noticeably so. Wright assumed that either Cazanavette or Tremain had finally put him in his place and had given Tee the dreaded “heart to heart” feared by all junior officers. Whatever the reason, Wright was thankful for it.
Now, Wright had his whole day planned out. He was going to go to the beach with Joe Salisbury and lie on the powdery sand, and drink cold beer, and get sunburned, and watch the beautiful dark-skinned girls walk by. Then he and Joe were going to try to pick up on a few of those dark-skinned girls and hopefully coax them to their rooms at the Royal Hawaiian to take care of some long-awaited yearnings.
That was the plan. But first, Wright had to take care of a small task given him by the XO. Since O’Connell had been in charge of the electrical division, the division was without an officer. As a temporary solution, Cazanavette had ordered Wright to assume the duties until a replacement could be found. As Mackerel was tying up to the pier this morning, one of the electricians had suffered a minor shock while hooking up shore power cables and was admitted to the base hospital. As the unofficial electrical officer it was Wright’s duty to look after the men in his division, as Cazanavette had pointed out to him just before he had left on liberty. Checking up on hospitalized men fell under the purview of the division officer, even if he was officially on liberty after two months at sea.
Wright planned to make this stop as quick as possible.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked the female attendant at the main desk in the bleak hospital lobby.
“I’m here to see Petty Officer Henry Berganski,” Wright answered, looking past her eagerly as if he could catch a glimpse of the sailor somewhere in the hallways beyond.
After filing through a few pages of the register, the attendant said, “He’s been admitted to the D wing, sir, third floor. Just take the steps at the end of the hall to the third deck and check in with the head nurse on that floor. Mr. Berganski is in room three twenty-six.”
“Three twenty-six, got it,” Wright said as he walked briskly down the passage to the stairwell, his waiting liberty the only thing on his mind.
This should only take a few minutes, he thought as he ran up the stairs, skipping every other one. This will be just a quick in-and-out visit. Was Joe already on the beach? Did he already have a girl lined up for tonight? That girl at the desk was kind of cute. I wonder what her plans are tonight. Wright came to the third-floor nurse’s station and found no one there. The nurses were obviously busy elsewhere. He glanced at his watch and waited for approximately two seconds before proceeding past the desk and looking for
Berganski’s room himself. He found it around the first corner and walked in to find Berganski in hospital pajamas sitting on the edge of one of the four beds in the room. He and his roommates were playing cards around a small table on wheels.
“Hey, Mr. Wright!” he called with a big grin.
“Hi, Berganski. How’re you feeling? You winning?” “Of course, sir. Hey, fellas, this is the guy I was telling you about. This is the young ensign that saved our boat when we got depth charged last time out.”
Wright shook hands with the other men. Berganski went on to tell the whole story. From the looks on his roommates’ faces, it was the third or fourth time he had told it.
“Sir,” one of the men said, smiling. “Can you take this guy back to your boat, please? If I hear that damn story one more time I’m gonna jump out that window over there. We had a nice quiet room before he came.”
Wright laughed out loud. He noticed the others start to laugh too, but then they looked past him at the doorway and abruptly hid their cards. Like guilty school children they returned to their beds without another word.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” a woman’s voice came from behind him.
Wright turned to see Margie Forester’s wrathful face glaring at him from the open doorway. Distracted with thoughts of the beach and liberty, it had never occurred to him that she might be the head nurse on this floor.
“Obviously you didn’t get the message last time, Mister Wright,” she said. “I don’t want to see you around here. I’m not going to let you absolve yourself of guilt by simply apologizing to me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Wright said. He had been at sea for two months putting up with Japanese depth charges and her browbeating fiance and he was in no mood for her disdainful ridicule. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m not here to see you? I’m here to see Petty Officer Berganski. He’s in my division.”
Margaret’s face softened for a mere millisecond. She noticed that the other men gawked at her, confounded by her outburst at Wright in front of them. In response, she quickly assumed a professional poise.
“All the same,” she continued, in a more civil tone, pausing to clear her throat, “it is hospital procedure for all visitors to check in with the head nurse.” Glancing at Berganski and then back to Wright, she added, “I’ll let it go this time. You can continue with your visit.”
Margie turned and left the room, leaving Wright to face the inquisitive expressions of the four men. He decided not to share the story behind Margie’s hostility. Ever mindful of his waning liberty time, Wright asked Berganski if he needed anything, then left the men to their resumed card game.
Passing the nurse’s station on the way out, Wright had neither intention nor desire to speak to Margie, seated at the desk and apparently absorbed in paperwork. Still, he was surprised when he heard her call his name as he reached the top of the stairs.
“Ryan.” Her voice was civil and not hostile, as it had been before leaving the room.
Half wanting to ignore her, he turned to face her, almost despite himself.
“Yes, Margie.”
“I heard what happened to Rudy,” she said from her chair, her eyes peering at him over the top of the lamp on her desk. “I’m sorry he didn’t make it.”
“Me, too,” he said somberly. He turned to go but she called after him again.
“I also heard what you did,” she said. “About how you saved the ship. Berganski’s been talking about it all morning.”