Finally off duty, he headed for the galley in search of something to drink. After filling a cup with tea and a touch of sugar, he sat at a table, resting his head in his hands.
Leaning into the rising floor, Barry set a tray laden with a salami sandwich, a pile of potato salad, and two pieces of chocolate cake on the table across from Luke, then sat. Through a mouthful of sandwich, he said, “They sure feed you good here.” He studied Luke. “How come you're not eating? You're not sick, are you?”
Luke eyed the sandwich. “I'll be just fine, but I'd appreciate it if you'd get that food out of my face.” The smell of salami sent waves of nausea through him. He felt a cold sweat break out and fought a roiling stomach.
“Sorry.” Barry took several large bites and finished off the sandwich. “That better?” He grinned.
Luke didn't answer, only shook his head. Leaning his elbows on the table, he held his cup in both hands and sipped.
“You ever heard of an aircraft carrier sinking?”
“In a storm? Nope. But there's always a first time.” Luke wondered whether he would feel better if he put something in his stomach. “I heard of a carrier that had its flight deck beaten so bad by waves that it curled over the bow. Stayed afloat, though.”
Barry let out a long, low whistle while catching his coffee mug sliding across the table as the ship rode a large wave. “I would've liked to seen that.” He shoved the last of piece of cake in his mouth and stood, picking up the other. “I better get back to work.” He headed out of the room, then stopped. “I figure this storm'll blow itself out and we'll be fine by tomorrow. See you at breakfast?”
“Hopefully,” Luke said and watched as his friend swaggered out of the mess hall.
Barry was right. By the following day the ship's movement was barely discernable, and the skies were mostly clear. Barry was already halfway through his breakfast when Luke joined him.
With a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs and toast, Luke sat beside his friend. He took a swig of coffee. “I'm sweating already.”
Barry nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
“I'd like to be in Alaska about now. Get out of this heat,” Luke said, taking a bite of eggs.
“Too cold for me. I'd like something a little more temperate.” Barry studied Luke. “You were going to tell me about some of your adventures. Where you been?”
“Pretty much everywhere—Gibraltar, Scotland, England, the Mediterranean.” He shrugged. “And soon the Solomon Islands.”
“What kind of action have you seen besides the kamikaze?”
“We've faced off with the Germans, watched two fish from a U-boat slide past the bow. We've lost a few planes.” He stopped eating and met Barry's eyes. “Why didn't you go home? You were shot up pretty bad.”
“I was home. But after I rested up, I was ready to get back into it. Figured I couldn't just loaf around in Oregon.” He grinned. “Seems to me, if God saves a man's life, that man ought to do something with it. So here I am.”
“You got here just in time. We'll be crossing the equator tomorrow. There's an initiation for sailors who haven't been that far south. Pollywogs become shellbacks.” Luke grinned. “Heard it's quite a party.”
Barry raised an eyebrow. “Party? From what I've heard I'd say more like torture.”
That night Luke couldn't sleep, so he made his way to the fantail. He sat on the deck and rested his back against a bulkhead. A moon the color of cream hung low in the sky. It looked as if someone had taken a bite out of it, but it was bright enough to cast a glow across a quiet sea.
He studied the water. Instead of seeing beauty, his mind manufactured subs lurking below the surface. The ship had played so many games of cat and mouse with German U-boats and Japanese subs that he couldn't think of anything else. He hated the furtive match. An all-out battle would be easier to take.
The Battle at Midway was how it ought to be. He wished he'd been there. We gave it to them good. I'll get my turn, he told himself. Sooner or later I'll have my chance.
The following morning, all sailors considered “pollywogs” were told to assemble on the flight deck. A sharp breeze cut across the bow, and a lot of nervous joking took place as the men waited. Luke was in no mood for fun. He didn't care about crossing the equator. He wanted to either fight this war or go home. Through the night his thoughts had been on his family and on Mattie. He wanted to get on with his life, but what he wanted had nothing to do with reality.
Festivities went into full swing. King Neptune's Court was assembled, and the “pollywogs” were pushed forward. The seaman playing the role of King Neptune held a homemade scepter and wore a poorly constructed crown made of cardboard and tinfoil. It was tipped sideways on his head and looked as if it might fall off at any moment. Beside King Neptune stood his queen. One of the men had plopped a mop upside down on his head and had donned an Hawaiian muumuu. He'd painted his lips and cheeks red. Another sailor played the royal baby. He made a grand entrance. Luke recognized the rotund man dressed in what looked like a diaper, but he didn't know his name. Momentarily Luke forgot his surly mood and chuckled. So did the others.
“No laughing,” the king bellowed. “You have all been charged with crimes against the royal family.” He proceeded to read a list of charges. All pollywogs were found guilty and required to pay for their crimes.
Luke's dark mood lifted. Along with trepidation over what the pollywogs' punishment might be, anticipation filled the air as the ceremony began.
Pollywogs were ordered to undress down to their skivvies. Then they were forced to crawl on hands and knees through garbage hauled out from the kitchen and spread over the deck. While they crawled, mates sprayed them with water so cold it felt like icy barbs against Luke's skin. He didn't know which was worse, the gunk under his hands and knees or the freezing water.
After this punishment the pollywogs were told they weren't repentant and that the royal barber waited for them. Luke's head was soaped down, and he was held securely while his head was shaved. He could feel the nicks left on his scalp.
Next he was shoved into a line making its way toward the royal baby, whose stomach had been smeared with something sticky and slimy. Pollywogs were forced to kiss the rotund belly. When it was Luke's turn, he kneeled in front of the pot-bellied man, grimaced and closed his eyes, then leaned forward to fulfill his duty. The royal baby grabbed his head and smeared his face into his grubby stomach.
Everyone laughed. Luke pulled free, wiping gunk from his face. He watched as Barry took his turn. His friend was having a good time. Wearing a broad smile, he threatened to punch the royal baby. In spite of the threat, he was treated like the others. After having his face pushed into the man's belly, he came up for air laughing.
The last obstacle was the royal dentist. Luke was plunked down into a chair and forced to open his mouth, and a vile-tasting liquid was squirted into the back of his throat. Gagging and spitting, he broke free. Someone offered him a bottle of something to drink, and he gulped down a mouthful, then realized it was liquor. He choked and sputtered as the fiery liquid burned its way down his throat and into his stomach. It did the job and rid him of the unpleasant taste. Luke turned to watch the others make their way through the penalties.
After the initiation the men received certificates stating they were now shellbacks and would never be lowly pollywogs again.
“Shellbacks,” Barry said, throwing his arm over Luke's shoulders. “We did it. Next time it'll be our turn to initiate the pollywogs. Can't wait.”
Luke's temporary elevation in mood faded. He knew fun was important. From time to time they needed to let loose, but he also knew that many of them would probably never make another trip over the equator or home. He looked at Barry. “Yep. Next time it's our turn.”
“Hey, what's wrong, buddy?”
“Nothin'.” He wiped a hand over his face. “Guess I'd just like to go home. ‘Cept I don't exactly have a home. Not with Ray Townsend living there anyway.”
Barry was quiet for a moment, then said, “Since I made it through Pearl Harbor, me and God have an agreement. I talk to him and he talks to me.” He let out a breath. “I'm not the same anymore. Oh, I'm me, all right, just better…I think. Anyway, I've been learning a lot about living. One thing I think I'm starting to understand is that we can have enemies, but we can't hold on to our anger.”
