An Unexpected Thanksgiving
By
Beth Kauffman
I wrote this story a few years ago for the Harriman
Nelson Yahoo group but apparently never posted it anywhere else. I found it
recently while rearranging my story files. Hope you enjoy it and for all who
celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving.
Admiral Harriman Nelson,
ensconced in a chair in the Observation Nose, stared out at the ocean on the
other side of the huge windows that fronted his submarine Seaview, lost so deeply in thought he never heard the soft tread
behind him.
“Admiral?”
Turning at the soft
call, he smiled slightly as he saw his captain, Lee Crane standing behind him,
a troubled look on his face.
“What is it, Lee?” he
asked, his frown matching Lee’s.
“We just recalculated
our arrival time in
Leaning back in his
chair, Nelson ran a hand over the side of his head and sighed unhappily. “So, we won’t make it in time then?” he asked
softly, sadness for his crew filling him as he knew the news, while not
unexpected, would be unwelcome.
“No,” Lee answered
softly, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he seated himself on the edge of a
table by Nelson’s side. “We won’t be
home until oh, a day or two after Thanksgiving probably.”
“I had hoped we could
make it,” Nelson sighed, shaking his head at the knowledge his men would be
spending another holiday away from their loved ones.
“I just hope Cookie has
something other than Spam left to feed us,” Lee joked, knowing they were going
to be limited in what food they had available for the run home, the mission
already running overtime even before the quake had hit.
Smiling ruefully, Nelson
merely nodded. “Let’s hope. I…I think I’ll go let him know he needs to
find something…festive to serve,”
Nelson said as he rose and walked by Crane, slapping him on the back as he
passed. Unnoticed, was the thoughtful look that came over Nelson’s face as he
slowly walked through the Control Room, his thumb absently rubbing his lower lip.
~O~
As expected, the news
they would not make it back to
~O~
Thanksgiving Day arrived
and the doors to the mess hall were kept closed once a surprisingly ample breakfast
of apple cinnamon pancakes, eggs and thick slices of bacon had been served,
causing no amount of curiosity from the crew.
Finally, noon arrived
and a long line began to form outside the door to the mess hall as the crew
members not on duty in vital areas, wondered what Cookie had been able to
cobble together for their “feast”. Ten
minutes went by, then twenty, and then at almost exactly 1230 hours, the doors
to the mess hall were flung open, surprisingly by Admiral Nelson himself who
apologized profusely for the delay and stood back to allow the men to enter.
The first few entered
quickly, curious as to what Cookie could have found in the nooks and crannies
of his kitchen to prepare on this special day and came to an abrupt halt. Before them they saw the usual metal tables
they ate every meal at covered in linen table cloths adorned with festive fall
leaves or whimsical turkeys. Long tables
were spread about the room and arrayed on those tables were platters and bowls
of turkey, ham, potatoes, vegetables, fresh baked bread, stuffing and
gravy. Glasses of wine in paper cups
were at each place setting awaiting the men.
The redolent scents of
cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves filled the air coupled with the heady aroma of the freshly
baked bread and their noses, followed by their eyes, were drawn to the tables set
up in the back that were covered with pies, cakes, and stacks of cookies.
Nelson, standing off to
the side, smiled as he saw the confusion and astonishment on his men’s faces. “Sit, gentlemen,” he called just before a
ruckus at the back of the line could be heard.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you all moving inside?” The disgruntled
voice of Captain Lee Crane could be heard as he slipped around the row of men
that still stood dumbstruck, his own jaw dropping at what he saw before him.
Turning his astonished
eyes to Nelson, who stood with crossed arms and a satisfied, smug look on his
face, he smiled as he walked towards him, Chip Morton on his heels.
“How? There’s no way any of this was stashed
onboard somewhere,” Crane said as the men, now over their surprise, were
crowding in and claiming spots at the tables, their voices raised in excited
chatter.
Nelson gracefully
shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips.
“A good magician never gives away his secrets. Gentlemen, your seats,” he said to his
captain and executive officer, gesturing behind him to a table set aside for
the officers, several of whom had already seated themselves before the feast.
Shaking their heads in
bewilderment, Lee and Chip followed the admiral to the head table and sat down.
Grabbing a cup of wine
that had already been poured, Nelson cleared his throat to draw his crew’s
attention, waiting until their voices stilled, and in his deep, rich voice
said, “Gentlemen, I know this day is not what you thought it would be when we
first left port a few months ago. We’ve
experienced, as usual, more excitement than it seems should be necessary for a
simple research boat,” he joked, waiting until the laughter died down a
bit. “Each of you here deserves to be
with your families or whoever you had planned to be with today. Unfortunately, that is not the case. So to you, I raise my cup and thank you for
your service, for your dedication and for your presence here aboard this boat.”
With that Nelson raised his cup, followed by his men and downed the contents in
one swallow. Catching the eyes of
Kowalski, Patterson and Sharkey, he nodded and winked, smiling conspiratorially
at the men who returned his nod and smile. “Now…let’s eat!”
Smiling, Nelson sat
down, watching in contentment as his men excitedly dug into the assortment of
food before them.
“So how did you do
it? Really. And don’t give me that magician stuff,” Lee ordered
leaning close to Nelson who was studiously avoiding looking at his friend and
was busy placing a little bit of everything on his plate.
“There’s no way any of
this stuff was onboard when we left port,” Chip said quietly as he too took to
covering the smiling turkey on his paper plate with turkey and ham. “I
know. I checked in all the food
shipments.”
“I agree. It wasn’t onboard. At first,” Nelson replied, his lips twitching
in amusement.
“At first? What do you mean not at…wait a minute. I tried to find you last night and
couldn’t. I looked everywhere. You took the Flying Sub back to port, didn’t
you?” Lee asked with a surprised look on his face, never having expected that
from the man by his side who seemed, to some, to be unaware of things such as
holidays, important dates or the feelings of his crew.
“Now Lee, how would I be
able to launch FS-1 without anyone on the night watch knowing?” he asked with a
quirked eye as he forked up a piece of turkey and chewed it with a slight smile
on his face as he watched Lee try to figure it out.
“You had help obviously. Someone on the night watch last night,” he reasoned,
turning his eyes to Kowalski, Patterson and Sharkey who were all looking at him
with big guilty smiles on their faces.
“You could have asked me to help,” he admonished in a slightly petulant
tone.
“What? And deprive you and me of a good surprise?”
“How far did you have to
go, sir?” Chip asked, a bit of gravy lingering on his lips for a second before
he wiped it off.
“
“That must have taken
you all night,” Lee said in shock, only now noticing the dark circles under
Nelson’s eyes and the slight stubble on his chin.
“A good chunk of it,” he
chuckled. “Pat and Sharkey made sure
FS-1 was launched with no one knowing and Kowalski was my co-pilot and
muscle. One hundred and fifty pounds of
turkey and ham can get quite heavy to load after awhile.”
“I’m surprised you
managed to stuff all this onboard,” Chip frowned.
“It wasn’t easy,” Nelson
sighed. “Every part of the Flying Sub
was crammed with boxes, turkeys, ham…well everything you see here. Kowalski had more than a few things on his
lap on the way back.”
“Why Admiral?” Lee asked
quietly as he saw the delight on his boss’ face as he watched his men eat, some
who slipped happy glances to their commanding officers briefly before going
back to their meal.
“Look at them,” Nelson
said with a slight smile, his chin jerking in their direction. “They deserve to be with their families
but…well circumstances prevented that.
So, I suppose this is the next best thing. It’s been a rough year in many ways for the
sub…and the men. We’ve lost a few good
crewmen over the past year and we had our share of danger and trouble. But there have been some joyous occasions
also, not only for the men of Seaview,
but for the Institute as well. A few babies were born to members of the crew
and Institute staff, new research buildings are almost ready to open at the
Institute and there’s promising research at NIMR making breakthroughs and
discoveries. For those things alone, we
should be thankful.”
Lee turned from his
perusal of Nelson, who watched his men enjoying themselves while being careful
to not fall too far behind his officers in putting away the food on the table,
to the crew. Big smiles graced their
faces and a low rumble of animated voices filled the room as they enjoyed the
bountiful buffet, their hearts, for the moment, light.
Nodding, Crane was thankful
once more for having been chosen by Nelson to captain his submarine, something
that had been unexpected. Almost as
unexpected was the friendship that had developed between the admiral and
himself, growing stronger over the years.
“Sometimes, it’s the
unexpected things you find you’re most thankful for, Admiral,” Lee murmured,
sidling a quick glance to the man at his side who nodded, glancing to him and
smiling.
“That’s very true,
Lee. Very true. Now, you seem to be falling behind the rest
of us,” he said gesturing to Chip’s almost empty plate and Lee’s full one. “If you want there to be any desserts left
when you’re through, I suggest you catch up to Mr. Morton and me.”
With a smile, Nelson
watched his friends dig into the feast, Lee’s words echoing in his mind. Unexpected things…yes, sometimes they were
the most appreciated, he thought as he turned his gaze from his officers, to
his men, then turned his thoughts to his Seaview. To him, she was not unexpected. She’d been in
his dreams, his thoughts, his plans for many, many
years. But what had grown between him
and the men arrayed before him, was
unexpected, and for that, he was now and would always be, truly thankful.
I
realize that even though Seaview is a
magnificent submarine, the chances that she has a mess hall big enough to seat,
at one time, almost the entire crew is unlikely. But then again, she is
Nelson’s brainchild, so who knows? I hope you’ll forgive any mistakes you may
find in this story. And may we all be blessed with unexpected joys.
When you look at life through eyes of gratitude, the
world becomes a magical and amazing place. ~ Jennifer Gayle
The End