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by Ryan Hopkins
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Petty Officer Callahan took four steps across the sandy floor of the watch tower. Seconds later, a spotlight cleared the murky night, and illuminated the hundred yards of beach ahead of him and slowly dissipated across the sea. Callahan’s lips mirrored the crescent moon.
“It’s hard when you’re beat.” he said aloud to the sea.
“What is?” said Petty Officer Salazar, Callahan’s newest watch partner, who arrived at their command two months ago. Salazar sat comfortably, sunk into his blue camouflage parka, with his arms wrapped around his torso. A half empty energy drink was set on the table beside him.
“Thinking”, Callahan said.
“Don’t hurt yourself there big guy.” Salazar said.
Callahan turned off the spotlight and walked back to his seat to retrieve his lunchbox. Inside was the pesto farfalle that he and his wife had made together over the weekend. They had gotten the basil and dried pasta at the farmers market, flipped through dusty vinyls at their favorite record shop, and picked up a bottle of sauvignon blanc on their way home. That evening, they danced to Ella Fitzgerald and dined by candlelight.
Inside the tower, both men looked ahead into the dark gaps between the spotlight and the screens of the video monitors, the only modern convenience inside of the tower which had been built during the Second World War. Unlike those years of German U-Boats and Kamakazi bombers, this night was a calm hush. It was nearly eighty years since the war had ended, but on some nights, especially when the fog rolled in, Callahan would squint, imagining ghosts of the past still on patrol. He knew that after another eighty years the tower would still be manned. Salazar took a drink and broke the silence.
“Think Kowalski’s gonna be on time?”
“Negative.” said Callahan. “And when he does show up, he’ll find a way to make us stay late.”
“Yea man, it’s like the boat all over again,” Salazar said. “Half of us were late or hung over, just passin’ the buck onto the next watch, while the other half were busting our asses day in and day out.”
“Which were you?” Callahan asked.
“Depended on the day, and our skipper, Commander McMahan. Dude was a real piece of work. Didn’t matter who you were or what you were doing, he’d just rip into you for no reason. I swear, concrete’s softer than him. Got more of a personality too. Everybody basically drank themselves numb in port but it got worse underway. Cuz then we were trapped with each other and stone cold sober. Double watches, skipping ports, extensions. We lost a guy at sea. I didn’t know him, but last I heard NCIS is involved.”
Callahan knew the story all too well, and other horrors too.
“That’s why I’m stoked to be here.” Salazar said. “When I checked in, the skipper shook my hand and told me, ‘Welcome aboard’ with a smile. I could feel that she actually meant it, and she asked about my family and turns out she’s from Austin too.”
“Did she do the train thing?” Callahan asked.
“Hell Yea!” Salazar said. He did his best impression of Commander Tracy, pumping his arms back and forth like side rods turning the wheels of a train, “We gotta build momentum! We gotta build speed! We gotta keep on chugging along! Hoo-Yah!”
It was exactly like the first time Callahan had seen it on a sweltering afternoon last August. Her presence left him with his head high despite feeling like a snowman, melting under the summer sun in his dress white uniform. His wife took a beautiful picture of them that morning.
Callahan said, “Nice one. Get this, every time I see the CO she tells me to call my Mom, and now I do, more than I used to anyways. Speaking of which, it’s almost time to call in.”
Salazar stretched, then unhooked the handheld radio while Callahan pulled a clipboard from the wall and began to inventory the tower’s equipment. Then they opened the safe where to deposit that day’s tape recordings. Finally they turned on the spotlight and panned it across the beach from left to right. Stiff from the cold metal chair, Callahan took his hands off the spotlight for a moment to wring his back like a towel.
“Man this is rough.” Callahan said, as the searchlight arced across the beach, “I mean I hardly sleep because day staff keeps calling me in, “We need you to come in and sign this. Oh we need you to update that. Oh sorry we gave you the wrong, one you gotta come back in.’”
“That’s the nature of the beast. I mean, it’s what we signed up for.” Salazar said.
“Did you know I had to come in and sign my performance evaluation on my wedding day?” Callahan said.
“Jeezus, no.” Salazar replied.
“Yea man.” He paused the spotlight on a pale yellow heap of kelp that wriggled as small crabs tore away at it, “Chief told me he didn’t care if I was getting married, because he wanted it done that day and if I didn’t get it done by fourteen hundred I was gonna be in front of him and the rest of the Chief’s Mess explaining myself. So, I had to put on my uniform, drive the whole way to this place, write my eval, go back home, put on something nice, and get to the courthouse as fast as I possibly could.”
“What’d she think about it?’ Salazar asked.
“She wasn’t happy but she knew I didn’t have a choice.”
“I’m sorry man, that’s rough.”
“Well, like you said,” Callahan sighed. “That’s the nature of the beast. Let’s call in.”
With a final pass of the spotlight the security check was complete, and while Callahan switched off the spotlight Salazar raised the radio to his mouth and began,
“Tower 1, this is Tower 2. Tower 1, this is Tower 2. How do you read?”
“Tower 2 this is Tower 1. We read you Lima Charlie.”
“Tower 1, all conditions normal.”
“Tower 2, all conditions normal aye. Tower 1 clear.”
“Tower 2 clear out.”
Salazar hooked the radio back onto the stand and Callahan made an entry into the deck log, Kowalski’s favorite place to find discrepancies to make the previous watch fix before he would let them go.
“What are you gonna do after this?” Callahan asked.
“Go home. Drink a beer. Shower. Pass out. Yanno, the ushe.” Salazar said, “You?”
“Nah man, I meant after the Navy.”
“Ah. I don’t know man.” Salazar replied, “My orders window is around the same time as my reenlistment, so I guess I’ll see what’s good and decide then. Plus I think this’ll be my lucky cycle and I’ll pick up rank. Tack on that third chevron under my crow, yanno?”
“Look man… I’ve been here three years and I’ve seen a lot of people come and go.” Callahan said, “We’re not out there on a tin can,” he pointed to a pair of flashing lights far out on the sea, “And we’re not suckin sand in the middle of some desert, and we get to go home every night so yea, according to everyone I’ve met, this is as good as it gets, and it’s still miserable. I’ve heard it all man, and doesn’t matter where you go, you’re still gonna have your Kowalskis, and McMahans. Don’t get me wrong, there are some great people in the Navy, but what sucks about it is their either so high up you can’t access them without ‘jumping the chain’ or they’re just some poor schmucks like us. Plus, let’s say you do make rank. You’re not gonna be high enough to change anything, and Chief’s gonna be breath down your neck even harder.” He looked over at Salazar and said, ” Unless of course you want to do CPO365 training with that fat sack of sunshine every day.”
“It’s a beast alright.” said Salazar, “But I’d rather be in the beast than be one of those obnoxious bootlickers who got kicked out for failing weight and wears a shirt that says, ‘Dysfunctional Veteran’’ on it with a big ‘ol American flag on the back“
Callahan leaned over and said, “Uhh, oh jeez, uhh, Applebees is proud to honor all those who served!” and shook Salazar’s hand after a mock salute. The two men laughed for a little while.
“Alright, let’s say you do stay in. What’s your dream orders?” Callahan asked.
“Hmm, I don’t know man, there’s a lot I wanna do. Like Diego Garcia would be awesome, yanno just fishing and eatin’ mangos all the time, Alaska would be pretty cool too, or Naples, or Guam. Honestly man, I think I’d take anywhere not on the east coast. I mean, I got no wife, no kids that I know of, and a ton of student loans to pay off so yea I guess I’m pretty open.” Salazar said, and then asked, “What about you? Aren’t you gettin out pretty soon?”
“Three months and some change, DoD willing.”
“Any big plans?”
“I’ve been applying for jobs,” Callahan said, “But so far I’ve got nothing. I mean I had a few callbacks but they all wanted someone to fill the position now, not in three months.”
“I hear ya on that. Well, retail will hire anyone with a pulse, yourself included. Or, maybe I could hook you up with my Uncle who’s a contractor in the shipyard.” Salazar said.
“Maybe, I have no idea what I wanna do, all I know is I need to make money. It’s tough to get by out here man,” Callahan said, “And we want to stay local because my wife is from here, and it’s an awesome place to be, but it’s also one of the most expensive cities in the country. After we pay for our apartment, food, and bills, we don’t have a penny to spare. God forbid we have a little fun. It’ll just put us in the red. ”
“Hmm” said Salazar before he finished his energy drink. Then he gestured with a tobacco can toward Callahan.
“Want some?” he asked.
“I’m good.” Callahan said, “I mean I want some, but I’m gonna lose my dental coverage in three months.”
“No worries dude” Salazar said, putting tobacco under his lip, while Callahan started to eat the remainder of his pasta.
“Man that smells good.” Salazar said. “You make that yourself?”
“We made it together for a date night.”
“Who does the cookin?’”
“I do most of the time, it’s kinda my thing. I don’t know, I’ve been cooking for a long time and I just love it. Plus, I get to eat what I make.
“Live to eat baby!” Salazar said, “Hey, why don’t you become a chef? Use your GI Bill and go to Culinary school. Before you know it, you’ll be ‘Chef Cal’ and do all that crazy stuff with foam and liquid nitrogen and make swans outta melons.”
“Maybe, I don’t know man.”
“Look man, all I’m saying is give it a shot. You still get housing allowance when you’re on the GI Bill so that’ll at least cover your rent and maybe they’ll let you bring home whatever you make. Boom, free groceries.”
“You might just be onto something.” Callahan said and took a hard look at the last few bits of pasta in the bowl. It would be something to think about for certain, but for now he looked forward to going home. He wanted to bathe in the fleeting smells of lavender and coffee before she would leave, and he would try to get some sleep before his next watch.
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Ryan Hopkins is a Navy veteran who was born and raised near York, Pennsylvania. Currently he is a senior at Arizona State University where he is studying English Literature and plans to continue his studies with a graduate degree in English. His spare time is spent with his wife, two cats, and dog.
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