Adversaries
By R. L. Keller
As
he approached Dr. Will Jamison’s office door aboard the submarine Seaview, the
boat’s designer and owner, Admiral Harriman Nelson, thought he heard some dark
mumbling from the other side. Highly
unusual, since Seaview’s CMO and his two corpsmen were among the most
levelheaded, under control people it had ever been Nelson’s pleasure to serve
with, either during his Naval career or his now semi-retired one as head of the
Nelson Institute for Marine Research.
Which, considering the excitement and sometimes out-of-this-world
injuries he was faced with on a regular basis, was one of his most valuable characteristics
in Nelson’s eyes. And that wasn’t even
mentioning Jamison’s biggest challenge aboard Seaview. The sounds caused a moment’s hesitation, but
as silence greeted his arrival at the door, he quickly turned the knob and went
in. Or rather, started to. His first step into the office coincided with
a heavy ceramic coffee mug shattering against the metal bulkhead barely a foot
from his head. Happily, the mug appeared
to have been empty, since all he ended up with were a few shards on the shoulder
of his khaki uniform shirt. Counseling
his expression into one of benign patience, he casually brushed off the shards
and continued into the small office, brushing a few more shards off the chair
seat on his side of Will’s desk before sitting down.
On
the other side of the desk, the slender, slightly balding doctor took a couple
of deep breaths but continued to stand, his expression remaining momentarily
dark, before sending Nelson a resigned glance and sighing heavily. “Care for a cup of coffee, Admiral?” he asked
mildly.
Nelson
did a quick mental check of what had been happening on Seaview since he had
last seen the doctor. Adding that to the
particular heavy sigh that Will tended to reserve for one and only one member
of the crew satisfied the Admiral that the only thing wrong with Will was
something that was too routinely wrong with him. “Only if it stays in the cup,” Nelson replied
carefully, still controlling his expression.
Now did not seem like a good time to further antagonize his CMO – and
friend – by laughing, as he desperately wanted to do. He waited patiently for Will to grab two more
heavy mugs, fill them about three-fourths full of dangerously dark-looking
coffee, and add a splash to each from the bottle of medicinal brandy he kept in
his bottom desk drawer. As he picked up
both mugs, and handed one across the desk, Nelson asked quietly, “What’s he
done this time?”
Will’s
knuckles turned white as his grip tightened around his own mug. “As if you didn’t already know,” he muttered,
voice matching the hard expression that instantly returned to his face.
“Have
a feeling that Sharkey gave me the condensed, highly edited, version,” Nelson
replied, still presenting a calm exterior to the ticked off doctor, and took a
sip from his mug.
Will
took a longer drag, then sighed heavily again, and finally sat down. “Do you know where he is?”
Nelson
nodded. “Chip has him corralled in his
cabin.” He glanced at his watch. “Since it’s after 2000 hours, with any luck
he’ll stay there, at least for the night, now that everything is back under
control and we’re headed home again.”
“Not
holding my breath,” Will muttered into his coffee, and Nelson finally let a
small grin appear. He also raised an
eyebrow, encouraging Will to fill in the details.
It
took the doctor another swallow. “You know
it started yesterday morning?”
Nelson
nodded. Seaview and her crew were
returning home from a trip to the
All
that changed the morning of the previous day.
The dive planes started reacting to commands sluggishly, then with
almost no warning failed altogether, sending the giant submarine straight to
the bottom. Luckily for all hands, the
area of ocean they were traveling through at the time was relatively shallow,
allowing divers to work outside to try and fix whatever had gone wrong. Unhappily for all hands, the sudden crash
into rocky terrain shook loose a lot of sensitive equipment all over the boat.
Seaview’s
crew was highly skilled and used to functioning in demanding situations. Every hand turned to and hit their designated
areas with speed and accuracy, but it still took over thirty hours to either
actually fix all the damage, or make enough repairs to raise Seaview and allow
her to limp home where permanent repairs could be made. During all that time, very few crewmembers
took time out from their duties for longer than it took to shove a couple of
sandwiches in their mouth and wash them down with the strong coffee Cookie’s
assistant kept flowing out of the galley.
And three of the hardest working members of that crew were Nelson,
Seaview’s Captain, Lee Crane, and her XO, Chip Morton. The Admiral had his hands full getting the
reactor, damaged by the jarring Seaview took hitting bottom, back on line. He was being ably assisted by Cookie. As Seaview’s back-up Reactor tech, and with
the main tech sidelined with injuries, Cookie was serving double duty. While working side by side with Nelson he was
also making sure that critical support to all hands was provided by large
amounts of easily eaten food, and keeping flowing the strong, black brew that
put strength into flagging muscles and determination into flagging spirits. Chip had coordinated all repairs, while
helping to get the computers back up and running. Lee had been everywhere at once, it seemed,
swapping out exploded circuit breakers, slipping into the ballast tanks to help
unstick plugged valves; anywhere on the boat, anytime a spare hand was needed,
her Captain seemed to instinctively show up.
The crew was so used to it happening, they merely gave each other a
knowing nod and a quick smile behind Lee’s back, and handed their Skipper whatever
tool he happened to need at the time to help out with what they were tending
to.
Even
Will had been busy during those first frantic hours. Most injuries were minor, thanks to a quickly
broadcast warning. But there had been
two broken wrists, one of them belonging to the lead Reactor tech, that needed
casting before he joined his corpsmen wandering around the boat, tending to
minor injuries that crewmen hadn’t bothered reporting before getting to the
work at hand. Sprained wrists and ankles
had been taped, analgesics dispersed for headaches, backaches – and other
assorted aches. Will was used to the
crew’s attitudes toward minor injuries.
They’d have all been reported eventually, but not while the safety of the
many was more important than the discomfort of the few. Will had smothered more than one grin,
acknowledging not only the necessity of such an attitude, but also recognizing
the influence of a certain workaholic commander. Will had purposely sought out the Skipper as
one of his first tasks once he was free to leave
What
had sent him over the edge – and the mug into the bulkhead – was what had
happened a few hours ago. He’d gotten a
whispered call from Chief Sharkey to please hurry to the Missile Room; the
Skipper was headed out for a dive to do the final repairs on the dive planes
and the COB had noticed, as Lee was changing into a wet suit, that his back was
one solid, heavy, bruise. Sharkey was
uncomfortable letting the man dive, but wasn’t exactly in a position to stop
him. Doc had said a few words that
didn’t normally come out of his mouth, thrown down the mic, grabbed his
emergency kit, and literally ran aft.
Now
he took another long drink of coffee.
“How much do you know about what happened when I hit the Missile Room?”
Nelson
composed himself before answering.
“That’s the part that Sharkey was most…circumspect…about.”
The
doctor’s mug, now empty, slammed down on the desk as he jumped to his
feet. “Sharkey did his best to delay
Lee, and I walked in the hatch just as he was starting to pull on the top of
his wet suit.” He glared at Nelson. “That…that…”
“Easy,
Will.” Nelson meant to calm his
once-again out of control CMO. He hadn’t
really believed even the Chief’s edited version. He now had to do some rapid
recalculations. He’d never seen Will
like this.
Unfortunately
his efforts backfired, and the doctor turned a look on Nelson that actually
made the Admiral uncomfortable. “NO,”
exploded out. Will leaned forward toward
Nelson, his hands fisted on the desk.
“The man didn’t think it necessary to mention that when we hit bottom,
he’d been thrown backwards into some wooden crates hard enough to turn his back
into one giant purple blotch. He didn’t
bother to mention he had a knot on the back of his head, or the headache that
went with it. He could have been walking
around for nearly thirty-six hours with a concussion, spinal damage, internal
injuries. And now the damned idiot was
going diving!” The explosion of air as
Will straightened up and turned his back on Nelson covered whatever words came
out with it, for which the Admiral decided he was grateful.
Not
used to being talked to in quite that manner, Nelson took a couple seconds to
counsel himself once again and remind himself that all of Doc’s anger and
frustration stemmed from a profound and deep-seated respect and friendship for
his frequently impetuous Captain. Nelson
recognized, and knew that Will did as well when he was thinking clearly, that
Lee wasn’t foolishly impetuous. Instead,
he had the ability to rapidly assess a situation and come to a course of action
while others were still scratching their heads and wondering what had
happened. It was a recognition of this
trait that was one of the reasons Nelson so appreciated having Lee as Seaview’s
Captain. It didn’t stop him from joining
in when Chip and Will commented – frequently derogatorily – on the subject, if
for no other reason than to make sure Lee continued to go through the
assessment stage, however rapidly, before he took action that all too often put
his safety behind that of crew and boat.
This time, Nelson had a few pieces to the story that apparently Doc did
not. “Lee must have let you examine him,
since you know about the lump on his head.”
“Barely,”
came out as a growl, Will’s back still turned toward Nelson.
“And
was he injured, beyond the heavy bruising?”
Another
explosion of air was released, ending in a long sigh, and Will finally turned
around. “Didn’t appear to be,” he
admitted reluctantly. “But…”
Nelson
stopped him with an upraised hand. “And
as often as Lee has had to deal with bumps and scrapes, are you comfortable
admitting that he would have been fairly sure that he didn’t have a concussion,
or broken ribs, or whatever?”
“He
wouldn’t admit it if he did,” Will all but yelled, once again angry. And it didn’t help at all that Nelson lost
his battle with keeping a small grin buried.
“True,”
he admitted.
“That
man had no business headed out for a dive – no matter what,” Will continued to
insist.
It
was Nelson’s turn to sigh. “Are you
aware that there was still about half an hour’s worth of work to do on the dive
planes before we could even hope of getting off the bottom safely?”
“And
there are any number of qualified divers aboard…” Will blustered, but was again
stopped by an upraised hand.
“The
only divers aboard who were qualified to do the repairs were already maxed out
on their diving hours. Lee was the only
one, besides me, who wasn’t, and I was still finishing repairs to the
reactor. Chip had just notified both of
us that the air revitalization system computers were proving a major problem to
get back on line, and there was no guarantee that he could get them fixed
before we ran out of air. I gather he
didn’t explain that to you.”
Will
lowered his eyes. “He may have
tried.” He gave Nelson a sheepish
look. “At that point I wasn’t really in
the mood to listen to anything he had to say.”
The two shared a small grin.
“Sharkey
said you didn’t hang around until Lee came back in.”
“Returned
here and waited for the emergency call,” Will admitted.
Nelson
nodded. “Somewhere along the line Chip
heard about the argument – Sharkey swears he didn’t call him. Chip was in the Missile Room when Lee
finished the repairs, having finally gotten the computers running, and they
went back to the
Will
sent him an honest smile, then cringed and gave himself a shake. “Suppose I’d better go apologize.”
“For
what?” Nelson was genuinely confused. “You were just trying to do your job the best
way you know how. For which we are all
extremely grateful,” Nelson added with heartfelt sincerity.
“And
the Skipper was just trying to do the same thing,” Will answered. “Which, after these years, you’d think I’d be
able to figure out without going ballistic.”
Nelson
shrugged his shoulders. “We are both all
too aware of how easily that man can drive a sane person to drink with some of
his antics,” he acknowledged, and both men finally chuckled. “And you know all too well that he’ll be the
one apologizing for causing your frustrations.”
“True,”
Will admitted. His voice turned hard
again as he added, “But it won’t stop him from doing the exact same thing all
over again.”
Nelson
nodded. “He will always put everyone
else ahead of himself. There’s nothing
we can do about it. We might as well get
used to it.”
“Easier
said than done,” Will growled, before finally smiling.
Nelson
returned it, stood up, and nodded.
Glancing at the floor he asked casually, “Should I have some metal cups
ordered for you?”
“NO,”
Will thundered back. “Shattering is much
more therapeutic than clanging.”
Nelson’s laughter trailed after him down the corridor.
Twenty
minutes later, after making sure that the two crewmen with broken bones were
resting comfortably and that John had everything else in order for the night,
Will headed for his own bed, by way of Capt. Crane’s cabin. He still wasn’t totally sure what he was
going to say, and was halfway hoping he’d find no light showing from the small
crack under the door, and that the Skipper was finally fast asleep. No such luck.
Not only were there obviously lights still on, but also Doc could hear
soft voices coming from the other side.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked lightly.
Instead
of the usual call to come in there were rapid footsteps, and the door opened
just far enough to allow Chip’s blond head to appear. “If you’re here to kill him, I request
permission to help,” Seaview’s XO said seriously. His only response being a snort from Will, he
continued in a conspiratorial voice. “I even know where we can hide the
body.” About that time a balled up
uniform shirt hit Chip in the back of his head, and both he and Will cracked
up.
“I’m
unarmed, Skipper,” Will called out amiably.
An outsider may have been surprised at the antics between Seaview’s
senior officers. Will was extremely
pleased to be a part of it. With the
pressure cooker atmosphere that the entire boat had been under the last day and
a half, this release of tension was not only healthy, but also very
welcome. Chip opened the door wide and
stepped back, and Will entered. Lee sat
on the edge of his bunk, shoes and socks off as well as the shirt he’d thrown
at Chip. Will continued in to stand by
Lee’s desk as Chip, who’d stayed by the door, said quietly, “Guess I’ll go
stumble off to my own bunk. See you both
in a week or so.” He bent over and
retrieved the shirt, tossing it gently back at Lee, and left. The shirt fell into Lee’s lap and he lowered
his head, ostensibly to unball it before throwing it in the dirty clothes
hamper in his closet. But Will saw him
glancing his direction, giving Will that little ‘through the eyelashes’ look
the CMO was so familiar with. Will shook
his head.
“I
just came to apologize,” he said softly, resting a hip on the edge of Lee’s
desk.
Lee’s
head popped up. “Why?” came out a little
louder than he’d intended.
“What
happened in the Missile Room, shouldn’t have,” Will answered calmly, then gave
Lee a little smile. “At least, not at
that decibel.”
Lee
dropped his eyes again. “Not like it was
the first time,” he answered softly, and sent a glance Will’s way shyly.
“And
I rather doubt that it will be the last,” his CMO replied firmly, before the
grin spread. “Doesn’t mean it was
right.”
“You
have nothing to apologize for, Jamie,” Lee responded honestly, raising his head
again. “I shouldn’t have been going
diving. But…”
Will
stopped him with an upraised hand. “I
know, Skipper. Admiral Nelson explained
why it happened. I even vaguely remember
you trying to. I just wasn’t in the mood
to listen.”
“We
were all a little stressed out,” Lee offered.
“And
now I’m keeping you from the rest you so desperately need.” Will rose abruptly and started for the door.
“That’s
all?” came out before Lee could stop it.
Will
laughed over his shoulder. “Told you I
came unarmed, Skipper.”
“But…” Lee couldn’t, or at least didn’t, finish the
thought.
“I
don’t usually let you off the hook so easily?”
Will chuckled again as he turned slightly toward Lee and got the bashful
‘through the lashes’ look again. “First,
you’ve got ibuprofen in your cabinet.
It’s one of the things I know you’ll take, and it would do about as much
good as anything else I could give you.
And the reason I know that it’s there is, it’s on Frank’s pre-cruise
checklist to make sure your container is full.”
“Wondered
about that,” Lee admitted, and he gave Will a small grin.
“And
second,” Will continued, “I can be pretty sure that’s about all you need right
now, because Chip was fully aware I came empty-handed, and left way too easily
if he even suspected you were hiding something more serious than a black and
blue back. With his talent for reading
you, I’ve come to depend on him to report anything you don’t feel it necessary
to.” He laughed outright as Lee balled
his shirt again and tossed a perfect two-pointer into the hamper. “Nice shot, Skipper. More evidence that you’re not always as
foolish as you seem to be on occasion.”
“Maybe
only as often as you, Doc.” Lee sent
Will an obvious faux glare for his temerity, and both chuckled as Will left.
* *
* *
Dr.
Will Jamison mumbled a few words most of his acquaintances didn’t know he even
knew, and tossed the report on the desk in his office at NIMR’s
“Jamie? Everything okay?”
Will
easily recognized the voice of Seaview’s captain, Lee Crane, although he
sounded more tired than he usually allowed himself to sound. Will blew out a large breath and got himself
a little more under control. “Long day
at the office, Skipper. What can I do
for you? I thought you were still at
that training camp.”
“Sprung
myself a day early. Ah…”
Will
could hear weariness over the phone lines.
“What’s up, Skipper?” he asked gently.
“Oh,
never mind, Jamie. You sound tired. It will wait until tomorrow.”
Will
grinned and shook his head. Typical
Lee Crane. Put everyone else before
himself. “Skipper, I’m a little
frustrated at the moment, that’s all.
What can I do for you?”
“I
know you’ve been doing physicals this week.
Thought I’d see if you had any free time this afternoon, and I’d get
mine out of the way before I need to get busy tomorrow with the next cruise.”
“Who
are you?” Will demanded.
“Excuse
me?”
“This
is not CDR Lee Crane, the acknowledged expert at avoiding anything and
everything related to his health.”
Laughter
greeted the comment, but Will could still detect weariness to the sound,
especially as Lee spoke.
“Honest,
Jamie, it’s me. And I do take care of
myself regardless of what mother hen Chip thinks. Been doing it most of my life and I’m still
here.”
“What’s
wrong, Skipper?” Will asked gently, concern overcoming his disbelief, and not
distracted by Lee’s complaint.
There
was a long sigh before Lee answered.
“Training got a little…intense.”
“Your
tail, my office. Now!” If Lee was actually admitting that, he must
be at least three-fourths dead! But his
command was greeted by soft chuckles, and then a dial tone.
Just
over twenty-five minutes later Lee Crane walked into Will’s office, and the
doctor immediately started visually evaluating his least cooperative, but most
frequent, patient. Instead of Lee’s
usual light, energetic step, today he was moving slowly. The tiredness in his voice as he greeted Will
was even more noticeable in person than it had been over the phone lines. Will was immediately concerned. This man routinely ignored anything so
insignificant – to him – as a few aches and pains. Something was seriously wrong. “Looks like it was a rough session, Skipper.”
Lee
sighed heavily, and eased himself down in the visitor’s chair opposite Will,
who was seated at his desk. “I didn’t
realize until I got there that it was going to be run by an old friend of mine,
Master Gunnery Sgt. Walt Terananza, Marine Corps. Enlisted at seventeen, and worked his way up
through the ranks with a toughness that puts even most Marines to shame. Likes nothing better than taking down
officers a peg or two – especially
“Some
friend,” Will observed dryly.
Lee
gave him an open look. “Actually, he
is,” he assured Will. “Sure, he’s a hard
instructor. But he wants his trainees
prepared to handle anything a mission could throw at them so they get back
alive.” Lee gave Will a grin, albeit a
tired one. “He just has a fiendish
streak when it comes to setting up the training parameters.”
Will
recognized the grin. “And you take just
as much fiendish pleasure in outmaneuvering him.” Lee’s grin broadened, as did Will’s. But the grin wavered as Lee shifted in the
chair and a groan escaped. “Had a little
more fun this time than you should have, Skipper?” He got back the ‘through the lashes’ look
that he always associated with a small boy getting his hand caught in the
cookie jar. It made Lee look even
younger than what Will knew him to be, and Will couldn’t stop a return of his
grin. “Give,” he still managed to get
out firmly.
“Part
of the class revolves around getting through Walt’s obstacle course.” Lee gave Will a sheepish look. “I think he had help designing this one from
the Marquis de Sade.” Lee chuckled, but
Will could still see the effort it took for Lee to sound relaxed.
“Is
that why you left a day early? Because your
Marine friend won this round?”
Lee
glared at him. “No.” His expression softened before he
continued. “Wouldn’t give him that
satisfaction.”
Will
snorted. “Well, let’s adjourn to the
exam room and see what you’ve managed to do to yourself.”
“I’m
fine, Jamie. Just really tired.” He groaned again as he stood, and gave Will
another sheepish little grin. “And a
little sore.”
The
two made their way down the hall a few doors and, as Will set out those
instruments he’d need, Lee started getting undressed. Will noticed Lee’s jacket land on the chair
fairly quickly. But his shirt took a bit
longer, and was accompanied by a not quite covered up grunt. As Will turned around Lee, in definite
discomfort, had one hand on the exam table and was leaning over cautiously to
untie his sneakers. Will took pity on
him.
“Just
leave that for now and take a seat, Skipper.”
A quick glance didn’t show anything more serious than a couple small
bruises and a slight scratch across one shoulder blade. Will spent several minutes gently feeling all
over Lee’s torso but could find nothing broken, cracked, or otherwise out of
alignment. Through it all Lee sat
quietly, leaning slightly in the direction of the hand he’d rested on the edge
of the table, but following Will’s instructions to breathe deeply or look this
way and that. Will backed off and looked
at his CO quizzically for a moment, before reaching around for his blood draw
kit. “Skipper, tell you what. It’s obvious you’re exhausted. I’m just going to do the standard blood work
and call it good for this physical.”
“I’d
just as soon you finish up now, Jamie, if you’re just going to call me in
tomorrow to finish up.”
“I
don’t see a need, Skipper. I mean, it’s
not like I haven’t had you in my sights all that long ago.” Will grinned.
“Or, that I’m likely not to have you there again shortly, given your
track record.” He chuckled at Lee’s
instant frown, drew three vials of blood, and steadied Lee when he listed to
port slightly as he stepped down from the exam table. “Are you safe to drive home?” he asked,
concerned, then added with a quick smile, “I could get you a room here for the
night.” He laughed outright at the look
that drew from his CO, and Lee finally grinned as well.
“I
think I can manage that far, Jamie,” Lee still grumbled, reaching for his
shirt. Will busied himself labeling the
vials and making a few notes as Lee dressed, and went as far as his office with
Lee as the younger man walked wearily out.
Will thought he heard Lee mutter something over his shoulder, but when
he turned back Lee was just entering the elevator so didn’t call after him to
find out what he’d said. He did think
about alerting Chip that Lee was back a day early, knowing the XO would immediately
go check on his friend. But he decided
against it. Obviously the training camp
had taken a lot out of Lee, and he didn’t need Chip appearing unannounced to
keep him from going to bed any longer than it took him to drive the short, easy
distance to his condo. Will would track
him down sometime the following morning and see how he was feeling. In the meantime, he’d walk the vials of blood
down to the lab and supervise the testing himself. Positively the last thing he wanted to deal
with today was one more screw-up.
* *
* *
Shortly
after 0800 the following morning, Will gathered up another blood draw kit and
headed to the Admin building and Admiral Nelson’s office. The man was going to be touchy enough just
hearing why Will had to re-do the tests.
First, though, he wandered past Lee’s office. But all was quiet, as was the XO’s
office. He gave some thought to perhaps
Lee wasn’t totally up to par yet this morning, but knew that he’d hear soon
enough if that was the case. Chip was
all too adept at dragging Lee’s tail to
Nelson
greeted him warmly from behind a desk littered with half a dozen open folders,
before noticing Will was carrying the small leather case he used for minor
cabin calls aboard Seaview. He glared at
it a moment before transferring the glare to Will’s face. Will grinned.
“Relax, Admiral. Some blood work
got destroyed in the lab (Will decided abruptly to downplay the incident) and
one of the samples was, unfortunately, yours.
Just need to draw a new set.” He
kept a soft smile on his face, hoping that it would help defuse the impending
four-star explosion. It seemed to work,
because Nelson just let out a large expanse of air, pushed his chair back away
from his desk, and started rolling up his uniform sleeve. Will hurried to complete his task before
something, or someone, interrupted.
He’d
just finished taping a small patch over the collection site, and was putting
the vials in his bag as Nelson rebuttoned his cuff, when he asked offhandedly,
“Have you seen CDR Crane this morning?”
“So
you know he’s back.” Nelson
grinned. “He came bouncing in just
before 0700…”
“Bounced?”
Will asked incredulously.
Nelson
nodded. “Happy as a clam. Said he’d aced the course and got himself
sprung a day early.” Nelson grinned,
shaking his head. “Never saw anyone in
my life as happy to get back to a 24/7 job as he always is.” Nelson chuckled.
“Bounced?”
Will repeated.
Nelson
gave him an odd luck. “Practically ran
in, tossed his training report on my desk – it’s here somewhere – grabbed Chip
who was just coming in, and hightailed it for the boat. Wanted to see all the repairs. You know him.
Isn’t satisfied until he’s checked everything himself.” He continued to stare at Will.
“Bounced!”
Will exploded.
“Will,
what’s wrong?”
Will
stomped a few feet away, getting himself back under control before turning back
toward Nelson. “He called me yesterday
afternoon. Said he’d just gotten
home. Wanted to know if he could come
over.”
“Lee?
Asking to see you?”
“Came
in practically dragging his tail. Gave
me some cock and bull story about being exhausted, but he knew I’d been doing the
semi-annual physicals and wondered if I had time to do his before he got back
to work today. That…”
“Will?”
Will
flattened his hands on Nelson’s desk.
“Harry, that…that…officer,” Will made that last sound like a dirty word,
“was groaning so much every time he moved that I actually started feeling sorry
for him.” It didn’t help Will’s temper
tantrum at all when Nelson snorted, a big grin beginning to form. “Did a quick check, drew some blood, and let
him go.”
Nelson
couldn’t hold it in any longer. He
laughed so hard he couldn’t even hold his coffee cup. But he finally got himself under enough
control to get out, “Yesterday, you say?
Figures.”
“Why?”
Will growled, steam practically coming out of his ears by this time, realizing
he’d been had – big time!
Nelson
didn’t answer verbally, just reached over and flipped the day calendar on his
desk back a page. Immediately Will knew
what Lee had tossed over his shoulder when he’d left Will yesterday. The calendar read April 1. “April Fools.”