The Night Before Christmas
By
Carol Foss
"I'll get airsick, I just know
I will," Lt. Cmdr. Will Jamison (aka ‘Doc’) complained in the blackness of
the night, leaning against the wire fencing surrounding the Scampi Seaplane
hangar.
"Do you want to help me or
not?" Lee Crane handed his Chief Medical Officer some more of their
specialized gear.
"What I want is for you to take it easy, not drag yourself or me on
this...this..."
"Will you quit harping? Now, come on. You're the one always complaining
about not being able to keep an eye on me. Here's your chance."
"In Sickbay or at home, not
undercover!"
"Shhhh!" Crane shoved his
uncooperative operative into the shadows. "You want us to get found out?
This mission is absolutely essential," he checked his watch, "and
timing is everything."
"When I think of all the times
I've saved your life, and this is all the thanks I get..."
"Please don't think I don't
appreciate all you've done, but now's not the time to argue the fine points.
Now, c'mon, Joe should be waiting."
***
The hot apple cider wasn't very
good, but at least Cookie had tried. Admiral Nelson had put on a good face for
the sake of his crew, but it was forced and everyone knew it. It was a disheartened
lot aboard Seaview, even with the gaily decorated tree in the Observation Nose and
bunting about the boat. It wasn't just the Navy mission at the height of the holiday
season; the Captain had still been on
medical leave when Seaview was ordered to test some highly specialized sonar equipment.
Fankly, the crew was missing him, not to mention getting tired of Admiral Jiggs
Starke's unending complaints.
Not that their XO couldn't handle
things. Certainly Chip Morton had proved his mettle on more than one occasion,
but he hadn't talked back to Nelson's old friend like Crane was wont to do. To
Morton's credit he did try it once, but the ensuing dressing down had
apparently insured that he wouldn't do it again. And Nelson, well, he simply
desired Crane's company. It didn't help that Jiggs needled him about the almost
father-son relationship that had unintentionally evolved between the two over a
relatively short time. So Nelson was a bit testy to say the least.
Jiggs leaned back in one of the
Observation Nose’s new lounge chairs, "So, Harriman, what had you wanted
to do for Christmas before the Navy confiscated Seaview?"
"You don't have to keep
reminding me! I just don't think serving as your flagship for these tests was a
job for Seaview. Other boats..."
"Other boats don't have the amenities," he raised his glass,
"and the SecNav chose her, not me. Besides, we’ll be finished soon
enough."
"Hmpf. Anyway, in answer to
your question, I was going to visit
my sister.And you? What were you looking forward to, or is needling my crew it?"
"You think I want to be here at
Christmas? Hardly. What I want," he patted his stomach, "is some of
my grandmother's homemade pumpkin pie and turkey dinner with all the trimmings,
God rest her. My wife's hopeless in the kitchen. Speaking of hopeless, will
your cook be up to it tomorrow? If the cider was any indication..."
"There's nothing wrong with the cider!"
"Harriman. I've been aboard
now, what, three weeks? In all that time I haven't had one decent meal. Getting
skimpy on the paychecks? In fact, old friend, as I’ve tried to pound into your crew, I'm afraid
there's a lot aboard Seaview I'm finding questionable for a Navy Reserve vessel and..."
"As I've told you before,
you're here as an observer, not an inspecting Admiral for the Reserve Board,
and we’re usually a civilian vessel, thank you very much!"
"Well, sorry, don’t burst a
blood vessel.... Damn..."he added, scowling.
"What now?"
"You're not going to believe
this, but I think I kind of miss Crane telling me off. You don't do it nearly
as well he does."
Kowalski, on station in the Control
Room stretched the kinks out as he heard their laughter. It was the first time
since the cruise started. Still, no matter what the two had suddenly found so
amusing, it just wasn't fair. There they were enjoying themselves while he and
his buddies were stuck aboard the stupid sub when they ought to be home with
friends and family and...
"Ski!" O'Brien interrupted
his thoughts. "Get your attention back on that screen. I refuse to return
Seaview to the Skipper with scratched paint or a dent in her side.”
"Aye sir. Sorry, sir,” he said
then added under his breath, “as if there’s anything out here that could do
that….er..I’ll shut up now sir.”
For the next few minutes, Kowalski
couldn’t help feeling a little bit disloyal. Here he was bad thinking the boat
when Crane had gone and gotten hurt on a camping trip, a real one, not an ONI assignment.
Injured badly enough from a slip and tumble down a rocky hillside for Doc to
remove him from sea duty until the bruised ribs, lacerations, and concussion
had a chance to heal.
Oh
gawd, Ski suddenly mused, what if he'd
said something bad about the boat out loud? It would get back to the Skipper and if he found out....
"Mr. O'Brien?" Sparks
voice called out interrupting his thoughts," We got a...well, a kind of
situation."
"Well, out with it, man."
"Miss Angie called to say the
Skipper's gone missing. She wanted to call him about something and she can't
find him anywhere..."
"Gone missing?" O'Brien asked, hoping
"Yeah, she checked with his
apartment manager, Security searched the Institute, even the Med Center...it's
like he just...vanished...again,
sir,"
Uh
oh. Ski looked at the Admirals in the
Nose sadly. It wouldn't be long before that laughter was going to turn
into...well...it didn’t bear thinking about.
They all knew the drill and Ski
wondered if O'Brien would ask Morton to hand
out earplugs before informing Nelson that the Skip had probably caved into his
James Bond Syndrome and was off on assignment. He’d probably also call the duty
corpsman to be at the ready for Nelson’s soon to be raised blood pressure.
Yes, it was going to be a long
night.
***
"Breathe normally Will,"
Lee ordered as he checked the small seaplane’s exterior, all the while glancing
backwards to make sure no alarm had sounded.
"I'm going to make an
appointment with a psychiatrist when this is over; I have to have been insane to
have agreed to this," Jamison stowed the wire cutters into a zippered bag.
"You want to back out, now's
the time," Crane tossed yet another bag into the
aircraft and squeezed himself into the cockpit.
"Face Morton and
Nelson's wrath leaving you to fend for yourself? Hah!"
"Will you quit with the babysitter
mode, Jamie?”
"You're a long way from being
fully fit," Jamison scowled as he sat beside him.
"Will you two quit
arguing?" Joe intervened dockside, "Lee, you got the
coordinates?"
"Yes, mother."
"Very funny,
bro. You do realize, don’t you, that if Starke finds out I helped you…”
“He won’t Joe. And thanks for all
your help. Jamie? You sure you got everything on that list stowed?" Crane
asked.
"I checked it twice, enough
already! Now, hurry up at get us going or I’ll be tempted to call Starke myself
that you’ve corrupted his aide.”
"Sorry, Joe,” Lee told "I
forgot to tell you he bites."
"Good luck," Joe removed the chocks tying the plane to the
dock. In seconds he gave Lee the traditional thumbs up.
Crane revved up the engine.
"You sure you know how to fly
this thing?" Jamison queried nervously.
"I am a qualified aviator, as you well know," Lee said mildly
exasperated. "Flying this reject from some surplus yard's no big deal.”
"Uh huh, then I guess you meant to turn on the windshield
wipers."
"Oh."
"I knew I should have stayed
home and taken my phone off the hook.”
In minutes the craft skimmed along
the water, for a rather lengthy time, Will thought, before becoming airborne.
***
"Doug..."Nelson pleaded to
the Director of ONI on the videophone in his cabin as Morton and Starke stood
by.
"Look, Harry, I told your radio
operator, now I'm telling you! Crane's not
on assignment with us! You think we'd turn him out in the field so soon after
his release from
"In a word, yes!"
"Ask the CIA if you think they
had anything to do with it, he works for them sometimes, but they don't usually
bypass the boundaries between agencies without telling us. Maybe he's just gone
home."
"Angie checked his
apartment."
"No, no, no, I mean home...his mothers'..."
"She's in the Amazon on a Peace
Corps expedition," Morton said," Lee told us about that last month,
remember? Someplace in Brazil I think."
"Brazil? Oh shit," Doug said and began to punch numbers on his phone
unit.
"What is it Doug?” Nelson
asked.
"I'll have to get back to you.
Out."
***
"Can't Sparks pipe anything
else in ?"Sharkey complained to Morton in his cabin. "It ain't right
sir. Jolly holly Christmas music? When
the Skipper's traipsing off in the jungle to rescue his mom from cannibals and
head hunters and God knows what..."
"We don't know what he's doing, Chief."
"Yeah, well it's something he would do, isn't it?"
***
"Damn," Lee said as he
fiddled with a few switches.
"What? What?" Jamison asked nervously.
They’d landed easily enough on the waves but ‘damn’ was not a good omen.
"I didn't want to worry you,
but inertial navigation’s been having a few glitches. I'm pretty sure we're in the right place but
if I can’t see some stars to confirm our location, the mission's a bust."
"Confirm our....Do- you- mean-
to- tell- me, we're...we’re lost?"
"Technically?" Crane gave him his best wounded puppy look. It
had helped before when he'd gotten into trouble.
"What the hell does that mean?”
"Easy Will...Look," Lee
checked his watch, "I know our general location, just not our precise location and that's what we need
to know for this mission to succeed."
"Then radio your pal Joe
Jackson for help!”
"Can't. Seaview would pick it up… blow our cover. Wait
a minute..."Lee scrambled from his seat and began to tear into some of the
cargo in the back. "Well don't just sit there, give me a hand!"
"Uh, Lee? What are looking for?"
"This," Lee pulled out the
manifest, "here, line twenty five, now, c'mon...help me find the thing."
***
"You realize, don't you
Harry," the SecNav scolded from the monitor in the Control Room, "we
now have ourselves an international incident?”
“How were we to know Mrs. Crane was at the Ambassador’s reception as safe as if she’d been at home in bed?”
“She nearly had a heart attack when
she found out your man was missing. Look, Harry, ONI knows how Crane operates.
And they assure me this isn't it.
He's been intentionally lost before, hasn't he? He's probably having himself a
grand old time someplace, wine, women, and song, without a care in the
world..."
***
"Well that's just great, we
don't have any batteries!" Lee complained of the mobile GPS.
"Lee, I know you're
disappointed. But let's just go home."
"Not yet. Now, this might not
work," Lee plugged the GPS unit into the cockpit cigarette lighter.
"Remind me to thank Joe for finding a plane with one of these. Not
standard equipment. Right on target!" Lee added happily as the GPS
revealed the info he needed.
"Yippee," Jamison said acerbically.
"Okay, c'mon, let's get ready
for the main event."
"Uh, Lee..."Jamison nodded
to the smoking GPS.
"It does look kind of
hot..."
"It's on fire you idiot!"
Jamison yanked it out. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"he yelled as he tried to keep
hold of it long enough to toss out the hatch. "This is all your
fault," he blew on his hands.
"Hey, I'm not the one who
insisted on coming along."
"Me? You asked me!"
"And you didn't have to appoint
yourself my babysitter, either."
"Well, excuuuusse me!"
"C’mon Will, it's Christmas
Eve, you know, peace on Earth, good will toward..."
"Just shut up and help me sort
the gear."
"I knew you were a soft touch.”
"Ha. Just wait till I get you
in my sick bay again."
"Wanna' bet?" Lee smirked.
"I give up."
***
It was nearing midnight and all
hands aboard Seaview were both relieved and anxious. Relieved the Skipper
probably hadn't been eaten and anxious because they still didn't know where he
was.
"Admiral?" Riley called
out from his console in the Control Room, "I'm picking up something weird.
And close...about a hundred yards above us. But they don’t profile like any kind of biologics I've ever
seen. Fish or dolphins with humps maybe...but what are those? See? There, there
and there..."he pointed to the blips.
"I can't see it from the
scope," Nelson interrupted, handing the scope over to Morton. "Jiggs,
would any of the previous tests the Navy did in this area adversely affect any
life forms?"
"You've seen as much as I have.
They all seemed fine to me."
"Hey!" Morton exclaimed,
"Something just brushed over the viewer."
"It’s settling on the hull,
whatever it is!" one of the crewmen said from his console.
"Sail camera!" Nelson
ordered as he turned on the monitor. "C'mon, c'mon..."
"Sorry sir, it bumped the
camera. Broke it."
"I don't like this,"
Starke said.
"Neither do I," Nelson
said just as they heard the outer hatch
wheel turn. "What the devil? That hatch can't just be opened without our
release."
"Get the Master at Arms up
here," Morton hurried to the
weapons locker to distribute guns, "prepare to repel boarders. That's no
fish topside."
“Shhh!”a voice from the still closed inner hatch was heard.
“Hurry
up.”
“Hold
still!.”
Morton climbed the ladder and tried
to turn the wheel. "It's jammed," he reported and climbed back down.
"Told
you," the invisible voice muttered,"
the jigg's up."
"Jiggs
up, that's funny,” somebody giggled.
"No
it's not."
"Pick,
pick, pick…there, all set. Ready?"
The hatch wheel turned.
The armed men in the Control Room
looked up, guns at the ready.
A red diver's bootie took its first
step, followed by another. Large red velveteen pants followed, attached by
suspenders over the not quite matching red wetsuit, then the torso, along with
a white flowing beard attached to...Crane.
"Ho, Ho, Ho, Merrrrry Christmas!"
he cheerily said in his best 'Santa' voice and jumped off the rungs midway.
“Ooops,” he added, as he quickly put a red velvet Santa cap over his wet curly
hair .
“Crane, what the blazes!” Starke
exclaimed.
"Name's Santa,” Crane corrected, “ or maybe Kris Kringle, but then, perhaps my driver's license was
recorded incorrectly; that last ticket in Timbuktu when Rudolf got lost...Elf?
Where's my bag? Come on down now, there's nothing to be afraid of. Santa has
such a hard time finding good help these days,” he added for the benefit of
the men.
"I'm not afraid, I'm just damn
embarrassed," Jamison handed down several large lined net bags full of
sealed plastic packages, along with the spent scuba gear and air bags that had
aided in their descent before he too stood before the astonished men.
Sporting a bent green cap, green pants, (also held up
by suspenders) over a black wetsuit, Doc also had pointed elf slippers over his
diver's booties.
“If anyone says anything, anything,” he stressed, “I’ll make sure
that after your next shots, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
“Ignore
my trusted elf,” ‘Santa’ said, “He’s a bit overdue for some milk and cookies. Now, let’s see, according to my list which he
checked..."
"Twice," Jamison said as
he sorted through the parcels.
"Ah, yes, never fails to have backup as Prancer keeps telling me over
our poker games at the North Pole...as I was saying," he turned and
pointed a finger at Chip Morton. "You
have been a very baaad boy."
"Me?"
"Uh, just how, 'Santa'?"
Nelson got into the merriment.
"Santa has it on the best authority that your XO has been lax in the
command duties entrusted to him. Has he once patted the bulkhead? Has he once
told Seaview she's been a good girl? No. But Santa understands, indeed, it's
only because he's thinking about his mother and father and brothers and sisters
and current girlfriend, what’s her name again, Elf, Elosie? Ho Ho Ho. As I was
saying, he’s simply forgotten what he promised the Captain. Therefore..."he
nudged Jamison, "that's your cue," Crane whispered, "Therefore", he continued, as Jamison tore open the waterproof bag, and handed
over the small packet inside, "you
will take your family on vacation and..."
"This...this is an all-expenses
paid vacation for seven to Las Vegas! Lee, you can't afford this.."
"Don't interrupt Santa. Especially when he's on a roll," Lee
added as himself, then leaned toward
Nelson. "We'll handle all those
pesky financial details later, Admiral," he whispered. " Now, Ho, ho, ho, let's see who's
next..."
For the next half hour or so,
'Santa' distributed presents as he meandered about the boat. It was noted
deliveries were not in any kind of order, alphabetical or rating. One thing was
certain, though. All the gifts were matching the interests of the recipients.
For example, Ski received a sexy calendar from a popular TV show which caused
wolf whistles and back slapping among his pals. Riley got a gift card to one of
the more expensive surfboard shops, and Cookie a prepaid hotel reservation and
entry form for the Pillsbury Bake Off.
"Ah, Mr. O'Brien, " 'Santa' said, as he returned to the Control
Room, keeping it up thought the wetsuit was damned uncomfortable now, " Santa can't claim responsibility for this,
but he can be the bearer of good news..."he handed the Jr. Officer a
folded document.
"Uh, I'm sorry sir, but I think
this must've gotten mixed up. It’s a savings bond for a Francine O'Brien"
"Oops," Crane said, and
retrieved another document, " Santa
doesn't make mistakes, but he can be forgetful at times, ho, ho, ho."
"My God!" O'Brien wavered
on his feet.
"What is it Frank?" Morton asked.
"I'm a dad! Shelia wasn't due
yet," he added, somewhat fearful looking at Crane for reassurance about
the copy of the birth certificate.
"She's fine, so's the
baby," Lee grinned, "Happened just before I stole the pla...uh, I mean," he reverted to 'Santa',
"acquired transportation."
"I’ll just bet,
Lee..."Nelson began.
"Transportation" 'Santa' continued, "that will be available topside as soon as Commander Jackson
arrives with a relief pilot for the seaplane already upstairs. Don't you wish
now, Admiral, that you'd written Santa for a new inducer valve for the Flying
Sub?"
"I didn't know it was going to
break! And it's not my fault we didn't have a replacement in stores
and...."
" Santa' even remembered you," Santa ignored Nelson, turning to
Starke, as Jamison handed him a coupon. "It'll have to do, had a bit of a deadline...you know, especially this
time of year...".
"No doubt. Thank you Captain,"
Jiggs laughed, showing off two complete meal coupons for the all hours
restaurant appropriately named ‘Granny’s which prided itself on its home style holiday
meals.
"Ahem," 'Santa' turned to Nelson, "Now you have been almost as naughty as Chip Morton."
"I have?" Nelson asked,
incredulous to the amused stares of the crew.
"You
have."
"Well?" Starke asked.
"In
addition to breaking the Flying Sub's inducer valve, it has come to Santa's
attention that his sister, living in Paris right now, would like him to visit.
But Nelson being Nelson he put business before pleasure again. Tsk Tsk Tsk. Not the way to win
friends or influence people at the North Pole,” Santa handed him a small packet containing round trip
airline ticket and hotel reservations.
"Lee, I can't accept
this.."
"Santa's feelings will be crushed if you don't, I had such a hard time getting them, besides," he slipped back
into himself, "she's already there getting fitted for a Dior gown for a party
being given by the French President.
She’d be happier if you escorted her. You're staying at the Hilton. You don't want to disappoint her, do
you?"
"Lee...I..."
“Santa,”
Lee corrected.
"Give up Admiral," Jamison
said, "Trust me, it's no use to argue with him."
"Good!
Ho, ho, ho. Glad you learned your lesson faithful elf. And now for you,” he pulled out a
heavy manila envelope tucked inside his pant pocket and handed it to Jamison.
"What...I..."
"Well open it," Crane
urged.
"Ohmygod. How did you do this?"
"Never
ask Santa his secrets, just enjoy them."'
"Will, what is it?" Nelson
asked.
"My book’s going to be
published! Lee," he suddenly gasped in sudden horror, "you didn't pay for it to be published did
you?"
"Santa
nor the AMA frequents the vanity press .Look
at the fine print.”
“But how? It’s been rejected more
times than I can count. Lee? How?"
"Just enjoy it Will..."
"And
now, last but not least.it wouldn’t have been last, but the GPS Santa wanted to
include for the Admiral to take to his sister had a slight accident..."
"But there's nobody left,"
Ski said.
"Ah,
but there is," Santa reached into his other pocket
and pulled out a rolled scroll. "Admiral
Nelson? Would you do the honors?"
"Some kind of
certificate...."Nelson began to read it, and soon leaned on the periscope railing, overcome.
“Harriman?" Jiggs asked.
Meanwhile Crane had already walked to the Nose, poured himself
a drink, patted one of the view ports and nodded his head in appreciation
toward the tree.
"...It's from The International
Star Registry,” Starke was saying, “they...they've named a star for...Seaview? And here's a picture of it...my
God, Crane..."Starke said, awed.
"It's not a name any real
astronomical board will recognize," Lee began softly, “but for all that she
is, all that she means...has done, will do...for all of us, for
mankind...well..."he paused, then reverted to character, "Santa feels her name should be written in the stars, for all to see."
"Amen to that, Skipper! Er, I
mean Santa," Ski said amid the applause that had erupted.
"Wait a minute, guys, settle down," the Chief
interrupted, "What about the Skipper? I mean...what do you I mean, what does Captain Crane want
for Christmas?"
"Crane already has what he
wants for Christmas, Chief. To be home with his family." Then he raised his glass in a toast, "Ho,
ho, ho, Merry Christmas!"
"Excuse me," Sparks suddenly
called out, "but I have an urgent message from ONI...for Captain
Crane."
"Captain Crane's not here,
Sparks," Lee said as himself , but pointed to his beard.
"Uh..."
"But," Lee sighed,
"Ho, ho, ho, Santa is," 'Santa' Crane rose and turned on the
monitor.
"Crane!” the ONI director
blared, “ What's the big idea! Did you or did you not steal a plane from
Scampi’s?”
" Scampi Seaplanes are
sub-contracted to ONI aren’t they?”
"For official use only! Stealing
a..."
"Borrowing."
"Borrowing a seaplane in nothing less than a covert action when
there isn't one is hardly..."
"Come here Frank." Lee put
his arm on O'Brien's' shoulder, "This is Lt. Frank O'Brien, and as
of," Crane looked at his watch, "twelve minutes ago was released on
compassionate family leave. Now, we can have the Institute send you the copies
of the paperwork while you make up your mind about NIMR using the plane, but do you really want me to
keep him cooped up aboard Seaview when he should really be going home to his
wife and baby, a premature baby at that, just born tonight, a Christmas baby, when they need him the
most?"
"Crane.."
"I could call in some favors," Lee grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, he’d dare,” Jamison said.
“And,"
Lee continued," of course, my alter ego, James that is, just might just decide to stay home the next time
you need him.”
"You have a mighty high opinion
of yourself Crane."
"Part of my job description.
Take it, or leave it."
"I’ll let it go this time. I’m not heartless. But don't you ever pull a stunt like this again. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly."
"Hmph. I'll believe that when
hell freezes over. "
"Santa never lies, Ho, ho, ho..."
"ONI out,” the director ended
the call.
"He does, however," Lee added for the benefit of his crew,
"sometimes stretch the truth a bit...better
hurry and get your gear together Frank. And if I didn't say it before,
congratulations."
***
"Permission to sit on the front porch?" Crane asked
from the spiral ladder, attired in his familiar old pajamas and robe.
"Lee! It's past 0300,"
Nelson said. "And since when do you need permission?"
"I couldn't sleep," he sat
down, "Too much adrenaline I guess. Malone told me you were still up. Did
Will give you the details about my limitations? He was spitting tacks at me
when we cleaned up. You know, I don't think he gets out much."
"The only limitations he
mentioned was a problem with your inner child escaping like it did
tonight," Nelson laughed, "and your James Bond Syndrome, but don't
worry, Lee. As of 0800 tomorrow, I mean today, you're back on full
duty....Lee...am I correct in assuming you knew what some of us wanted by bugging
the boat?"
"Who me?” Lee grinned,
"Actually, Joe had heard some conversations when he was getting some
things together for Admiral Starke’s visit before you even sailed...so when I
planned on becoming Santa Claus, well, we just put our heads together. I kind
of conned Doc into it."
"And about those pesky
financial details…now’s as good a time as any.”
"Actually I had a small
inheritance from my aunt tucked away for a rainy day. Well, with Seaview stuck
out here for the holidays, well, I couldn't think of a better time to use
it..."
"Excuse me Admiral," one
of the galley crew approached, "But Cookie figured the Skip would like
some milk and cookies."
"Don't mind if I do. Just the thing after a long night's work. Thanks. And Merry Christmas."
"You too Skipper...er Santa," the crewman grinned as he
left.
Lee managed one of the cookies and
half the milk before he found he couldn't keep his eyes open against the
comforting beeps and hums from Seaview's adjacent Control Room.
Nelson thought better of waking him
and decided to let him sleep in the chair. Getting a blanket from under one the
storage chests by the whiskey cabinet, he spotted the discarded Santa cap and
elf shoes the Chief had put under the tree. And the engraved scroll with
Seaview's star. Yes, Nelson thought, Kris Kringle would be proud...
"But I heard him exclaim, ere’ he drove out of sight," Nelson
whispered as he covered Lee with the blanket, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night."
*Excerpt from: The Night Before
Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore