“This is going to eat at you a long time, Ryan,” Cazanavette had said. “You’re going to play it over in your mind a thousand times, wondering if you could have done something to save Anderson’s life. You’re going to need to let those feelings go, because they’ll do nothing but destroy your confidence in yourself. I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before and I can tell you right now that you could not have stopped Anderson from doing what he did. He felt responsible for Rudy’s death, and he was going to kill himself no matter what. Any last minute words from you would not have made any difference. You’re a good officer, and I don’t want to see this bring you down. Let it go. There is nothing you could have done. Just let it go.”
Cazanavette’s words had helped, but Wright still felt responsible.
The memorial service had been nice. It was at the submarine base chapel and the whole crew had shown up in their whites on their last day of liberty to pay their last respects to their shipmate. Tremain had said a few things about Anderson. He talked about some of his humorous habits and about how he had been a good sailor. The crew had been solemn through the whole occasion, and there were several teary eyes. Wright had seen Tee crying, too. Tee had the duty today but he had asked Salisbury to take his place for a few hours so that he could attend the service. The big red-faced bully had sat in the pew, staring straight ahead, with tears streaming down his face, his whole body shaking. The image had stuck in Wright’s mind.
Wright threw back another shot. It was getting late and the club was beginning to clear out. He was drunk and he knew that he would need to leave soon to catch the bus back to the hotel. He had been wallowing in his sorrows so much that he failed to notice the woman suddenly standing beside him.
“Mind if I join you?” the woman said.
Wright looked up and was surprised to see Margie looking down at him. He noticed that she did not smile and he could not tell if her demeanor was sincere or condescending. She was wearing her uniform and from the disheveled state of her hair it looked like she had just come off shift.
He didn’t have the energy to tell her to get lost. Without a word he motioned to the empty chair across from him and signaled the waiter to bring two more rounds.
“This is a surprise finding you here,” she said, as she sat down. “I figured you would be with the others at the hotel.” “Why aren’t you there?” he muttered. “I think you were invited, too.”
She looked away and Wright thought she was choked up, but he was too intoxicated to be sure.
“Yes, well,” she said finally. “I thought that I would stop by the Mackerel to see Tucker since he has the duty and you guys are leaving tomorrow, but…”
Wright saw that there were tears in her eyes as she held her hand to her face to hide it from him.
“But what?” he asked.
“But he doesn’t want to see me,” she said, wiping away the last bit of moisture from her eyes. “Something’s wrong and he doesn’t want to see me.”
The waiter brought the drinks and Wright was surprised at how fast Margie threw back the whiskey shot and called for another. After a couple of drinks she seemed to relax more as she stared forlornly at the engagement ring on her finger, twisting it several times. They sat in silence through another drink, neither one making eye contact.
“I don’t suppose you care about my problems,” she said, finally. “Why should you, after the way I’ve treated you?” Wright sneaked a few glances at her as she studied the ring. He was beginning to wonder if she was quite as deserving of Tee as he had thought. She probably had no proof that Tee was fooling around on her, but the saying went that “a woman always knew.” Her loyalty to him was unexpected and confusing, but appealing all the same. Wright actually felt sorry for her, and for the first time he saw her as his best friend’s heart-broken sister and not the snobby bitch.
“I’m sorry about Troy, Margie,” he said. “I miss him.” Their eyes met and she smiled warmly at him.
“I know,” she said softly, placing her hand on his briefly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
After another drink the club began to close for the night and they were ushered out by the waiter.
It was a pleasant night with a bright full moon and swaying palm trees in the humid ocean breeze. Wright walked Margaret to the WAVES quarters, a plain two-storied building on the other side of the base. At her doorstep he started to say goodbye, but he could see in her moonlit eyes that she did not want to be alone, and neither did he.
He observed her as she opened the door, the short uniform jacket and knee-length skirt graciously accenting the curves of her body. His sex-starved senses were driven to their full height as they both walked into the darkened dorm room that she shared with another nurse.
“My roommate is on shift this evening,” she said as she removed her hat and let her hair fall to her shoulders.
The scent of her perfume made his senses whirl and he impulsively reached for her waist as she turned to face him, bringing her lips to his in a tenth of a second. Half expecting a knee to the groin, he was amazed when he found that her moist lips were most welcoming, her small hand clutching the back of his neck as if to bring him closer. They both had had a lot to drink that night and she met him with no resistance as he unbuttoned her uniform jacket and blouse and let them both fall to the floor. She pressed her heaving breasts to his chest as his hands slid behind her to unzip her skirt. He tugged at it to get it past her curvy hips and then let it fall to the floor as well. She stepped out of it, taking him by the hand to lead him to her room and the perfectly made bed.
With only the light of the moon filtering in through the shutters on the humid night, their sweating and naked bodies embraced with no sounds save for her periodic muffled sighs. Wright held nothing back as he used Margie’s body as an instrument to unleash all the stress and frustration he had accumulated over the past months. The pain of losing Troy and Rudy, the hatred for Tee, the guilt for Anderson, the horror of submarine combat, and the confused feelings he had for Margie all culminated in a release of sexual energy that she passionately accepted with complete willingness.
When the dreaded first light of the morning sun appeared in the eastern sky, Wright woke to find a sober Margie sitting on the edge of the bed in a bathrobe, smoking a cigarette.
“You had better go,” she said simply, staring at the ring on her hand.
Wright was late and had to get to the ship. As he dressed quickly, he attempted several times to make eye contact with her but she would not meet his gaze. He grabbed his hat and, once outside, he turned to say goodbye but was met only by a closed door.
Nothing made sense anymore, he thought. The abrupt goodbye hurt worse than any of her previous malice ever did. He did not want to leave and thought about banging on the door until she faced him, but the solitary whistle of a destroyer getting underway in the harbor reminded him that Mackerel was leaving within the hour, and he still had to get to the hotel to pack his seabag.
PART III
Chapter 19
Mackerel's periscope poked above the ocean’s surface, and Tremain waited for the lens to clear. The seas were choppy in the North Pacific.
“Dive, come up to sixty feet,” Tremain called down the control room hatch.
Slowly the ship came up until the scope lens was no longer molested by the waves and Tremain could get a clear look.
Tremain scanned the azimuth, then called, “No contacts.”
“I would not expect any this far out,” Stillsen’s voice spoke behind him.