

A Sailor's Story

By

Marvin K.Perkins

A Smashwords edition

Published by Smashwords

Copyright 2013 by Marvin K.Perkins

Prologue

Michael Parsons, stood staring, red tired eyes above bags as big as suitcases. His worn lined face, looking way beyond his forty years, grimaced at the all too familiar sight of his reflection in the bedroom dresser mirror. He downed a shot of Jack Daniels and slammed the empty glass back down on the dresser with a disgusted crack. He poured himself another one from a bottle three fourths empty. Even after all this time he could still just barely stand to look at his horribly burned face, the stub where his hand used to be, and the prosthetic that replaced his right leg below his knee.

Anger was all he felt. Anger at the world, anger at the people who did this to him, and only pity for the sad excuse of a man he had become. He always asked himself the same questions. "Why had things turned out so badly for me? What did I do to deserve to live like this? And worst of all what did my poor family do to have to endure the sorry excuse for a father and husband I had become?"

"Maybe I'm paying for all my past sins," Michael always thought. "All the bad things I've done in my life. All the pain I've caused my family." Well, whatever the answer to these questions was, his life was a living hell, a hell that he had dragged his wife and children into, deep into the pits. There was only one escape, only one way to get clean.

"I just can't go on this way. What's the use? Everyone would be better off if I were

dead." Michael repeatedly told himself this or something like it every day of his life. But every day, he found a way to continue. But on this day, he couldn't find the strength to go on . It was time to pay his debt, it was way overdue, and needed to be paid in full, in blood. It was time for that dance with the devil. He would be joining him soon. There was a storm coming. He was going to be swept up in it for sure this time. This time it was going to be for real, for keeps.

The lightning cracked, the thunder crashed. It gave his image an eerie glow as the room went from light back to dark. The horrific storm just acted as a catalyst to ignite his already dark and explosive mood. He poured himself another glass of Jack, swallowed the contents in one quick motion, and slammed the empty glass on the dresser top. He looked again at his reflection. The disgust and anger he felt was overwhelming.

Michael flashed back, almost like in a nightmare, to that terrible day when his life changed forever. The day of the missile attack on the USS Stark back in May of 1987, which left him a useless cripple, scarred for life. He couldn't go on with his life. He couldn't put his family through his own personal hell any longer. It's got to end. It's for the best.

On the bed was a .45 pistol, it waited ominously to be pressed into action. By itself it could do no harm. It could not commit murder or mayhem. The pistol waited. The wait would not be for long. Michael picked the pistol up slowly, his index finger caressed the trigger. He lost his nerve momentarily and put the pistol down. But just as quickly, it was back in his trembling hand once again. His index finger pressed against the trigger.

He raised the gun to his head. All the grief, sorrow and pain he felt flooded into his brain in this single moment, as he tried to muster up the courage to end his useless life. His hand trembled almost uncontrollably. He struggled just to hold the weapon against his head. He fired.

Chapter One

It was 1975, the war in Vietnam was over, and Michael Parsons was looking for a new beginning. He had been playing at being a college student for five long years. He always said he was only going to college to avoid the draft, so he decided to just drop out. Well why not? College wasn't getting him anywhere. It was a waste of his time and energy. He had changed his major three or four times. It had been his father's dream that he go to college anyway. He had never really wanted to go. All he wanted to do was play music, get high, and of course get laid.

He dreaded telling his dad he was going to drop out, because he was to be the only one of the children to graduate from college. It was a big deal to his family. Why him Michael thought. "Why was I the chosen one for the whole family to live vicariously through?"

His brother, who was two years older, was supposed to be the golden child. He was to be the chosen one. It was he the family had expected to reach for the stars. But fate had a way of playing tricks on plans that sometime are years in the making. Michael's brother Bill was killed in a freak traffic accident, just barely a year ago. So as a result the baton was passed to Michael. He didn't want it, but it was passed to him anyway.

Now Michael was going to disappoint the whole family by dropping out of college. He was afraid his father would probably disown him or something. He might even have a heart attack or at least pretend to have one. Michael knew his mother would cry and plead for him to reconsider, then his dad would demand that he not do it. His sister would try to shame him into staying, bringing up images of his recently departed brother. But Michael had made up his mind and nothing was going to change it, he was grown and nobody was going to tell him what to do with his life.

Sunday was the day he was to break the big news. He even went to church to put his folks in a good mood for the bad news. He always loved Sundays, it was his favorite day of the week. His mom would fix a big dinner and afterwards everyone would sit in the living room and watch a ball game or just talk. It was special family time and somewhat of a tradition in the Parson's household. But today it was going to be spoiled by some unexpected bad news.

Michael waited until he could be alone with his dad, since he was the one he wanted to approach first. They were sitting in the living room, dad smoking his pipe,just enjoying an NFL game on TV. "Dad, I have something I need to talk to you about." That's the way Michael began. His dad put his pipe aside to give him his complete attention. Michael felt like he was on stage and the spot light was on him. He cleared his throat and began. "I've decided to drop out of college." There it was said. Of course that was just the first of an argument that would go on seemingly for days.

His dad picked up his pipe again and relit it, taking in a mouth full of fragrant cherry tobacco smoke and blowing it out forcefully. "Hold on there son. Back up again and repeat what you just said," his dad disgustedly replied. "I don't think I heard you right." The conversation got more heated from there. Michael mostly listened and nodded his head a lot. When it was over the result was just as Michael had expected. His dad expressly forbid him to drop out of school. He didn't want to talk anymore about it. And furthermore, if he dropped out of school his father didn't want to see him around anymore.

Michael was taken aback by the final statement. He figured his dad would be upset, and rightfully so, but to ban him from the house, he thought was a little much. Michael assumed his dad would cool off in time and let him back in the house. He wasn't going to worry about right now. After all he was grown. His best friend Martin Freeman had agreed to let him move in with him and share his rent. All Michael would have to pay his friend was $75 a month. He would find himself some kind of job and move on with his life.

Michael went into his bedroom and pulled his one old raggedy suitcase out of the closet. He filled it with as much of his belongings as the old suitcase would hold. He didn't have many clothes anyway. His wardrobe consisted mainly of a couple of pair of jeans and a few t-shirts with the name of various rock bands on them. He would come back to get the rest of his things later. Michael stormed out of the house. He got into his old Ford Falcon and headed down the road. He was excited and scared all at the same time. It was the new beginning he had wanted so desperately. It would prove to be an interesting and tragic journey.

Chapter Two

Michael would soon reunite with his father, he knew that. He couldn't stay mad at Michael for very long. After all he was his father's only son. But for now Michael was going to begin his new life with his best friend Martin Freeman. Martin was a very colorful young man to say the least. He was a tall gangly kid, with a pimpled face and a larger than normal Adam's apple. He was exceptionally strong and very fond of playing tricks.

He loved to do this little trick with a lit cigarette. He would light one up, and bet anyone who was willing, he could flip it up into the air and catch the filter side in his mouth. This doesn't sound like much of a trick, but it's amazing what drunks will bet on in a bar.

Martin could also do another amazing thing. He could roll a joint with one hand while driving down the interstate at seventy miles an hour. Or if you like, he could roll a joint with both hands while driving the car with his elbows. Martin was also extremely strong. He could lift the rear of a compact car off the ground with his bare hands. This is another trick he would bet people he could do. Michael and Martin had met in church of all places. Their folks, as well as them, were members of the same congregation; The Getwell Church of Christ. While they were growing up they never missed attending the service, any time the doors opened.

The boys were best of friends for years. Martin was always getting Michael into all kinds of mischief. He was a year older and always seemed to find ways to get them into to trouble with their parents, as well as with the good church people. One day on a dare Martin enticed Michael to steal money out of the collection plate. The plan was when the collection plate came around they would reach in and grab a handful of cash and run like hell. Obviously, they knew they couldn't get away with it and had nowhere to go, but Martin just dared Michael to do it. A dare was always good enough, so of course Michael did it.

They planned it out carefully for several Sundays waiting for the right time. When the day came Martin shook his head and Michael knew it was a go. Sure enough the collection plate came around and they both grabbed a big handful of cash. And of course they didn't make it very far before they were caught by one of the church elders. They both got whippings and were grounded for a month. But somehow it was worth it. Michael would do anything if Martin dared him to do it.

Then there was the time Martin dared Michael to snatch the flowered hat off of Sister Ruby's head and play catch with it. They pitched that old hat back and forth for a good five minutes before Michael's dad jumped up and stopped him. Michael's dad would always ask him why he did the crazy things he did. Michael's only answer would be "Martin, dared me to, dad." His dad would shake his head and give him a whipping when they got home and ground him again.

The biggest dare ever came when Michael was thirteen and Martin was fourteen. This one event would bond the boys together as friends for life. This was a life changing event. All the other dares paled in comparison with this one. There was a sluttish, not very attractive girl that went to their church by the name of Karen Connors. She was seventeen, but got some kind of thrill out of popping little boy's cherries. Her mother was a divorced lady of questionable virtue herself, who seemingly attended the church in search of her third husband.

The dare was for Michael to have sex with Karen in the janitor's closet during the morning service, right after Sunday school. Martin had already done it with her, he swore, and now it was Michael's turn. Michael was a still a virgin and scared to death of girls. But he was determined to meet any and every challenge Martin made. He couldn't let his friend out do him, so he reluctantly agreed to the rendezvous.

The big day finally came and Michael was as ready as he could possibly be. After all this was a life changing event. It was a milestone in every young boy's life; a badge of honor and pride. It was an event he could brag about to the bigger boys behind closed doors when the boys talked about such things.

The deal was Karen was to be waiting already in the janitor's closet for him at ten o'clock. He would simply go in and they would do it.

After Sunday school Michael made his way down to the closet. His whole body was shaking with fear and excitement as he lumbered down the stairs and turned down the hallway to meet his first sexual encounter. His hand trembled as he turned the door knob and entered the doorway. And there she was, Karen Connors stripped down to just her bra and panties. Michael almost passed out on the spot but managed to utter a couple of mumbled words.

Karen said "Hello, so this is your first time"? Michael could only nod his head. Karen took it from there and guided him through the process.

Michael took to it like a duck to water and they were proceeding nicely, but just as Michael was finishing up, suddenly the door flew open. It was the church janitor with a mop in his hand and a look of horror on his face. Michael and Karen both screamed at the same time, as well as the janitor. Karen grabbed her clothes and ran out of the closet down the hallway. Michael didn't know what to do, he just stood there frozen. Finally, he came back to consciousness and pulled up his trousers, quickly zipping them. He as well ran out of the closet, down the hallway, and out of the back door of the church into the parking lot.

Michael was in the parking lot, bent over, huffing and puffing from the sprint from the janitor's closet to the parking lot when out of nowhere Martin found him. He had a thousand questions and Michael was eager to answer them.

After he caught his breath, which took a good couple of minutes. Martin asked Michael "Well did you do it"?

Michael shook his head and said "Yes, I did it. But the damn janitor caught us."

Martin started laughing. He said, "The janitor caught you? Oh, you are so screwed dude. I feel sorry for you," Martin said as he continued to laugh. He went on to tell Michael, he didn't think he would go through with it, he never did. He had lied about the whole thing.

Michael got so pissed he punched Martin hard in the eye, knocking him on the ground. Martin got up and the fight was on. They exchanged blows for a minute or so before a couple of the church elders came along and broke it up.

Both of the boys as you might guess got in big trouble. They were too old to whip so their dads grounded them for six months.

Michael was mad as hell at Martin for couple of days, until he realized what a favor Martin had actually done him. That day turned out to be one of the best days of his young life. Michael had lost his virginity and had his first fight all that same day, at church of all places. Man it was great to have friends like Martin. They were inseparable from then on.

The boys didn't see each other for a while after the church incident. Michael really missed his best buddy. His dad wouldn't even let him talk to Martin on the phone.

The six months passed and the two misfits were back together again. Michael missed their adventures and was eager to get back with Martin and have some more fun. It wouldn't be long before Martin would approach Michael with a brand new dare.

This time Martin came up with the idea of breaking into an old civil war house that was located the next street over from where Michael lived. The house was rumored to be haunted, and owned by an old man that patrolled the place with a shot gun, and wasn't afraid to use it.

To really add to the fun , as well as the terror of this dare, Martin decided they would break into the house on Halloween night. To further make it more horrifying, they would do the deed at the stroke of midnight

Halloween night arrived and Michael was ready for his big adventure with Martin. He was scared to death, but again wouldn't let Martin get the best of him. They met on the sidewalk in front of the ancient house. It was dark and foreboding , the only light was the street light that shown dimly down the block. Martin said "Well are you ready to get scared"?

"Hell yeah, let's do it" answered the petrified Michael.

They snuck around the back of the house, looking for a window that was unlocked. They tried a bedroom window, but it wouldn't open. They tried another but still they had no luck. The third one is a charm, they say and sure enough the third one opened with a creak. It was hard to open from age, but finally they managed to get it open far enough to slide in, and they dropped to the floor in the darkness of the living room.

Michael and Martin were shaking so bad they could hardly walk. The floor creaked and moaned with every step they took. They made it to the first bedroom and peered cautiously in, both of them praying no one was at home. They continued on to the next bedroom and peaked in.

Just as they entered the second bedroom a man rose up from the bed, wrapped in a white sheet like a ghost and yelled " Who's that in my house"?

Michael and Martin ran out of the bedroom into the living room and out of the front door like they'd been shot out of a cannon. Behind them was the owner of the house in hot pursuit. He chased them across his yard and the next thing the boys heard was what sounded like the blast of shot gun. The pellets careened by them, just missing the boys as they sprinted faster down the street. "Boom", the shot gun blasted again. Thank God by this time they were out of range.

They didn't stop running until they reached Michael's house the next block over. They both were white as sheets and out of breath from the run. They made a pack right then and there they would never do that again, nor would they ever tell another living soul about that night. They did eventually talk about that night, but not for a long time afterwards.

The boys grew out of all these childhood dares. Martin got his own place and Michael was still living with his folks. Michael had went to college, but Martin didn't, preferring to just go to work after he finished high school. He managed to avoid getting drafted somehow and drifted from one crappy job to another. He was working at a flower shop at the time Michael moved in with him. He also was smoking a whole lot of weed, which was something Michael hadn't thus far gotten involved in. This however, was going to change

Chapter Three

Michael and his father did reconcile, just as he knew they would. But somehow things weren't ever the same between them. Michael couldn't put his finger on the change in his father, but it was there nonetheless. What the hell, he had a life to get on with and that's what he was going to do.

His first order of business was to find a job, any kind of job, just something to pay his rent at Martin's tiny apartment. After all the rent was only $75, not even a large sum of money in those days. He had seen an ad in the newspaper for manager trainee positions at the 7-11 store. He would have never before even thought about taking such a menial job. But a job was job, so he applied.

The manager turned out to be a serious drug head by the name of Jim Johnson. How the hell this guy became a manager of a store was a mystery. He must have gotten the job before he started smoking massive amounts of pot. There was a polygraph test required. Michael passed with flying colors because up until this point the hadn't started doing drugs yet.

This guy was a real piece of work. He actually used to get high with his girlfriend's ten year old son. They even shared a beer together on occasions. Jim also liked to get the family cat high. He'd blow smoke in the cat's face for a while, then put her down and watch the fun as the cat tried to walk. This never stopped being a source of amusement for Jim no matter how many times he did it.

Michael and Martin became frequent visitor at Jim's place. They'd sit for hours smoking pot out of a bong, until they got so high they couldn't speak, and barely move. Then they'd pile into Jim's old van and go down to the pancake house and eat up virtually everything in the place.

Jim's old lady's name was Sharon Jefferson, a straight up hippie chick, complete with tie died t-shirts and hip hugger bell bottoms. She had long brown hair, beautiful blue eyes and pretty pink lips that curled up in the corner when she smiled, which she did quite often. Needless to say, she got even more beautiful to the boys as they got higher and hornier from massive quantities of weed.

Jim didn't seem to care or didn't notice the prolonged undressing looks Michael had started giving his girlfriend. Michael was young and horny, and sparks were subject to fly.

Sharon didn't pay Michael and Martin much attention at first. They were just two friends of Jim's that came over to party. She considered them to be friends and that was as far as it was going to go. And that was the way it was, for a while at any rate.

Michael had started working at Jim's 7-11 store. He thought it really sucked. But a job was job and it paid his little rent and gave him money for beer and pot. Gas was really cheap back in those days, so he was able to keep gas in his car as well. Life was good. He was out of college and away from his father, that was the important thing.

Michael still went over to his folks house on Sunday to do his laundry and to eat dinner with the family. He maintained a close but not too close relationship with his mom, dad, and his sister. But they didn't really understand him. He had drifted so far away from their puritanical, church service driven world; he was no longer recognizable as the Michael of old. He had grown a beard and let his hair grow to shoulder length. He wore dirty jeans, unwashed for months, a raggedy t-shirt, and no shoes.. He also seemed like he wasn't bathing with any degree of frequency.

The winter of his discontent, as it were, was rapidly approaching. The gig at the 7/11 was all right but it sucked. Dealing with a bunch of stupid customers, long hours on his feet, and the eleven to seven in the morning shift had started to wear him down. Besides the long work week was really cutting into his party time. He needed to find a daytime job, Monday through Friday, so he could party hardy on the weekends.

Just by a stroke of luck, his sister's husband, who was a butcher by trade, introduced Michael to the insurance business. Michael had never considered being a salesman of any sort, but what the hell, he had a gift for gab. How hard could it be to talk some knuckleheads into buying an insurance policy. So he went down to the Life Of Georgia Insurance Company office and talked to the manager. He told Michael about the opportunities with the company and the money he could earn. But the only catch was he had to shave off his beard and cut his hair. He had to buy a couple of suits too. He couldn't sell insurance in jeans and a t-shirt.

It sounded good, so he made the transition from store man to insurance man. The insurance business turned out to be exactly what he had been looking for.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, even though he had quit 7/11, he was still partying with Martin and Jim. And of course Sharon was still around. Damn she had started to look really good to Michael. The pot only enhanced her beauty and Michael was starting to fall in love with the girl. Well, in lust at least.

But, he managed to keep the situation under wraps for a long time, just out of respect for Jim. After all he was a good friend. It wouldn't be right to try and steal his girl, right out from under his nose. A good friend wouldn't do that. And besides she didn't feel the same way about Michael, so it didn't matter.

But, these things have a way of happening, when you least expect it. Somewhere along the line, Sharon had started to dig Michael too. Fireworks were waiting to explode; it was just a matter of the right time and place.

One hot summer day, just by a happenstance, Michael gave Jim and Sharon a call to ask about stopping by to party. He was looking for Jim, but in the back of his mind, he was hoping to sometime catch Sharon alone. Well that day was Michael's lucky day, or at least the day when he was going to get lucky. He talked to Sharon and she said they would be there, so come on by anytime. But Sharon had a playful tone in her voice that escaped Michael at the time.

Sharon answered the door in a halter top and a pair of blue jean shorts so small, they proudly displayed the cheeks of her beautiful, lust derriere. She had her hair down, lightly brushing her shoulders, blue eyes shining with a seductive sparkle. Her nipples stood erect in the scanty top, firm in all their youthful glory. Her shapely legs, bare feet, and flat stomach glowed with a magnificent brown hue. She spoke, just barely above a whisper. "Michael, what are you doing here? Jim and my son aren't here. They went to baseball practice. But since you're here, would you like to come in for a minute?"

Michael's eyeballs were popping out of his head. And as you might guess another part of his anatomy was popping as well. He stood speechless in the doorway for a few moments. All his brain power had migrated from his big head to his little one. His feet felt like they were logged in cement, and his mouth was stuffed with a hundred cotton balls.

Sharon just laughed, proud of having the effect she had hoped to have on him. "Well are you going to come in? It's getting kind of hot in here."

Michael, still unable to speak finally managed to at least make it in the house. Sharon shut the door and locked it behind them.

"God, you look great!" Michael murmured, still not able to say a whole lot.

Sharon smiled sheepishly. "Would you like a beer or some wine?"

Michael cleared his throat trying to dislodge a hundred cotton balls. "Yeah, yeah. a beer would be nice."

Sharon went to the kitchen and came back with a couple of beers and sat them down on the coffee table. Michael had watched her all the way to the refrigerator to get the beers and back. Sharon shaking that pretty tush and Michael's boner getting harder than he thought was even humanly possible. A tidal wave was roaring in his jeans, waiting to erupt. Sharon was so hot she was almost glowing red by this point.

Before they even took a sip of beer, they were on each other in a wild fury and a uncontrollable whirlwind of mad passion. Clothes were flying everywhere as they tried desperately to find each other's throbbing nakedness.

They rolled from the couch onto the floor, Michael on the thrill ride of his life. Sharon yelled loud enough to wake the dead as their journey towards ecstasy continued.

In moments it was all over and they lay in a heap of exhaustion and spent passions on the floor. Both somewhat embarrassed, they got up and started to put their clothes back on. But then something strange and overwhelming happened. Michael after watching her getting dressed for a moment was suddenly ready for round two.

He grabbed Sharon up and carried her to the bedroom and it started all over again. And again

Two hours later they were lying under the covers exhausted, Sharon smoking a cigarette.

Michael laughed. "You know at one point I meant to ask you, what time Jim and your son were coming home." Sharon just laughed and shook her head.

And so it began. What it was turned out to be just pure, straight up, raucous and down and dirty sex; nothing more , nothing less. Sharon had made it clear she didn't want to leave Jim. He was a good provider for her and her son. She said she loved him for the way he was with the boy and the way he took care of them. So every chance they could, they got together to fulfill that most basic of needs that both of them overwhelmingly had for each other. I mean they couldn't keep their hands off of each other for five seconds.

It was just a matter of time before Jim was going to catch them if they weren't more careful. Because when they got together, they forgot about the consequences. They lived only in the moment. So something had to happen, sooner or later.

One fall night, it was lightly raining, the drops pecking against the window casting a trance over the living room. Sharon and Michael sat together on the couch. Her son was with a friend, who knew about their affair and Jim was on the three to eleven shift at the store or he was supposed to be.

Murphy's Law applies here. Anything that can happen will happen. A crazy thing had happened at the store. Jim had torn his pants on a nail in the storeroom and unexpectedly came home to change them. They didn't live that far from the store so it was just a quick trip.

Meanwhile Sharon and Michael were on that couch and the clothes were just fixing to start flying off when they heard Jim's key at the door. Luckily, Sharon had engaged the chain so it gave Michael a little extra time to find a good hiding place. Michael ran around in a circle for a few moments, not knowing what to do. Sharon jumped up, straightening the couch and her clothes.

Finally Michael decided to take up a vantage point in the bedroom closet. He peeped out of the slats in the door, praying he had chosen wisely.

Meantime, Jim was knocking loudly and yelling at the top of his lungs. "Open the door. Sharon, open the door!"

Sharon scrambled to the door and quickly unhooked the chain, trying her best to look innocent. "Jim, what are you doing home so early?" She quietly said pretending he had awoken her.

Jim burst past her into the living room and looked around curiously. "What the hell with the chain on the door?"

Sharon, thinking fast on her feet quickly replied. "I've heard there have been some break-ins in the neighborhood, I was just being cautious. So, what are you doing home?"

Jim, temporarily accepting Sharon's explanation explained. "Oh, I ripped my pants on a nail in the back store room, I just came home to change 'em. Kind of slow tonight anyway."

Michael cowered in the closet in the bedroom, listening to their conversation and the reality of the situation occurred to him. If Jim needs a pair of pants, where is he going to come to get them, right in the place where he had decided to hide. Hindsight is twenty- twenty as they say, so who would have known he had picked the worst spot possible. What to do, what to do?

Sharon was in the living room dealing with the answer to that very same question. If Jim needs a pair of pants, the pants are in the closet. Michael is hiding in the closet. Not good.

Again she was thinking fast, remembering she had just washed his favorite jeans and they were sitting in the dryer. "Your favorite jeans are in the dryer, I'll get them for you."

Michael let out a deep breath, beads of sweat now rolling down his face as the drama continued in the living room. He wanted to break and run, but he couldn't get out without Jim seeing him. That wasn't a good plan. All he could do was wait and hope Jim bought the story Sharon was selling. He wasn't a religious man particularly, but he said a little silent prayer to the Man upstairs that night.

Meanwhile the dialogue between Sharon and Jim continued in the living room. "No, I think I'd rather wear the khaki pair, they're better to work in. I don't want to mess up my good jeans. I might tear them too and I'd be really pissed if I messed up my favorite jeans." Jim said as he headed pass Sharon to the bedroom.

Clearly this was a time for decisive action and more quick thinking from Sharon, who now was almost at a loss about what to do. "I think they're dirty, Jim." So you might as well go ahead and wear those jeans. I can get them for you." She said almost in a pleading tone at this point.

"I'll just check in the closet. I'm sure I remember seeing them this morning." Jim further said as he entered the doorway of the bedroom.

Sharon had to act and fast. The wheels in her head were turning so hard, it was surprising Jim didn't hear the grind. What to do? A great idea hit her like a lightning bolt.

Michael's heart was thumping so loud in his chest, it was reminiscent of the pulsating heart beating under the floor of the character in Poe's " Tell Tale Heart". He wanted to scream. He actually held his hand over his mouth to prevent an inadvertent sound. If the door to the closet suddenly flew open, what the hell was he going to do? Just say hello to Jim, and try his best to explain. Look for something to hit Jim over the head. Run like hell was probably the best idea. But whatever he was going to do, it was going to happen and in any moment.

This is when Sharon jumped into action. She ran and cut Jim off before he could get to the closet. She started caressing and kissing him for dear life. At the same time she began taking off what few clothes she had on. She continued ravaging Jim's body, reaching down to unzip his fly. By then all her clothes were off. Jim didn't know what was going on, but he liked it. He liked it a lot. For some reason, he forgot all about those khaki pants in the closet.

Sharon was totally naked and Jim was getting there fast. She bit Jim on his ear and whispered, "Let's have sex in the shower. You don't have to go right back to work."

It was on like donkey Kong. Jim and Sharon, were in the shower before Jim could say a word. The water was running and the heat was rising.

Now was the time for Michael to make his big escape. He waited for a couple of minutes and slowly opened the closet door, just a crack. He cautiously peered around the part of the room he could see. He opened it a little wider and took another more thorough look. He eased out of the closet and noticed with relief, the coast was clear. He could hear Jim and Sharon in the shower. God he wished he were in there with her. But no time for that, he ran like hell to the front door, and to his car that was parked a block down the street.

After this all too close call, Michael and Sharon stopped getting it on at her house. Much too risky, he had found. There was always his place, but Martin was always there, and he was kind of jealous of their relationship. All and all Sharon and Michael's relationship started to cool after the incident with Jim. He thought about Sharon and Jim in the shower. He thought about Jim being a friend and how much he cared for Sharon. Michael decided it was best they cool it for a while. It was for the best.

Chapter Four

Yes, Michael had made the leap of fate and took up the challenge, going from store man to insurance man. It was a big responsibility being an insurance man. You literally dealt with people's lives and their futures. It was important work and Michael was up for the challenge

He reported to his first day of training severely hung over from a night of intense partying with Martin at the "Cosmic Cowboy", a hippie hangout in midtown, that had all you could drink draft beers on Sunday night for two dollars. As you might have guessed Michael and Martin drank more than their money's worth. They also smoked a bunch of pot on the back patio of the bar. A fight had broken out between the hippies and a couple of sailors who mistakenly wandered into the club and started trouble.

Michael had gotten in a couple of punches, but luckily didn't get arrested when the cops showed up to break it up. All in all it had been a good night. He had reconnected with Martin, their friendship had been strained by his recent brief affair with Sharon.

So Michael was there for his first day, huge hang over and all. He was eager to start his new career. He genuinely wanted to help people and thought insurance was a worthwhile product. After all everybody had to die, and when they did someone would suffer a lost, well that's what he felt in his heart that day.

His direct boss or staff manager as they called him, was a true man of the south, a southern gentleman by the name of Joe Skelton. He had the entire ensemble, complete with a white belt and matching white shoes. He was a meticulous dresser, with a full head of black hair, slicked straight back from his face. He had piercing blue eyes, a big smile, and a firm hand shake. "Hello, I'm Joe Skelton, and who might you be boy?" Sticking out his hand for Michael to shake.

Michael, still trying to deal with a fuzzy head mumbled, "I'm Michael Parsons, I start my training today."

Joe pumped and squeezed on Michael's hand so hard, it almost brought him to his knees. "Good to meet you son. I'll be your staff manager," flashing that big smile, blue eyes twinkling. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Yeah, sure, that sounds good," Michael said in a strained voice.

"Come on over here son. This is your desk, right behind mine. Have a seat, be back with your coffee in a minute," Joe said, looking at Michael curiously.

He did come back in a few minutes with a cup of coffee and a stack of books for Michael to study. Michael secretly groaned but accepted the books from Joe graciously. For the first week that's what he did, study. He had to pass the state exams to get his life and health insurancel license so he could do business in the state of Tennessee. It was boring stuff, but it had to be done.

Having completed his first full day, in his new important career, Michael decided to celebrate Monday night at the "Angels" strip club with his best buddy and roomy Martin. Monday was a special night at the club, no cover, and dollar beers or mixed drinks all night. Table dances were still five dollars, but you got two for one. What a deal.

The club was actually right across the street from Michael and Martin's apartment complex, so at around six they crossed the street and entered the club with anticipation of a wild evening. Jimmy Buffet's "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw" was playing as they entered the club. It was going to be a good night.

They found a couple of seats right in front of the stage, a stack of dollar bills at the ready , tightly gripped in both of their hands. A dancer was on the stage as they sat down. She was on the floor gyrating completely naked, arching her back in a simulated sexual move. The boys whooped and threw a couple of dollar bills on the stage, that the girl quickly retrieved. She rolled over to her knees and crawled over to Michael and Martin. In turn she took each boy's face in her hands and rubbed her breasts on them. She then stood up and shook her naked ass for the boys. They were in Heaven already.

She finished her dance, collected her clothes and left the stage. Another equally raucous song started playing and the DJ called for all the dancers or "angels" as they called them, to come to the stage. All the girls appeared, dancing and whirling about, moving sensually to the beat of the bumping music. The DJ introduced each angel in turn and they did a special dance, followed by riotous applause and whistles from the crowd. Each one then went out into the audience to do sample table dances for the eager customers.

The boys ordered another round and Michael decided to get a table dance from one of the girls, Angel Sugar. She smiled and started to gyrate as the next song began. Michael was all eyes, as well as Martin, who was sitting next to him cheering her on.

She danced in her full outfit for a few moments, rubbing her ass up against Michael's crotch. The top came off first; she spun it about and put it around Michael's shoulder. She rubbed her beautiful breasts in Michael's face, their softness smothering him. He grabbed her left breast and sucked the nipple. She allowed this to go on for a few moments then pulled away, spun around and rubbed her ass on his crotch once again.

Michael was just about out of his mind at this point, sporting wood hard, and big enough to knock a home run with. Then the bottoms came off, she handed them to Michael who put them in his face. He smelled the sweet perfume and sweat. She turned back around now totally nude. Michael stuck his finger up her dripping twat and stirred the pot. He grabbed her breast in his hand and sucked it hard. Michael was about to cum when the song all too soon ended. Michael let Martin take the second part of the dance as a favor, and he enjoyed his as much as Michael had.

They drank dollar beers the rest of the evening and at two o'clock the club started to close. The announcement was made for last call and Michael and Martin ordered one for the road. The drinks came, the boys toasted a great evening and downed their drinks. They headed for the door, staggering and holding on to each other for support.

Michael really liked that chick angel "Sugar" and masturbated to the image of her sensual table dance when he was at last alone in his bed in the early hours of the morning.

His training week was finally over and the next week, he would go into the field. He was a little apprehensive, but at the same time excited. Him and Martin had a routine weekend, did some drinking, but mostly hung around the house.

Monday morning came and it was time to get to work. Michael didn't really know what to expect. He knew he would be working in an all-black neighborhood, which sort of put him on edge. He really didn't know any black people and had no idea what it was going to be like dealing with them. They were like creatures from outer space to him. He had been brought up in an all white neighborhood, and had only seen black people on television or from afar.

Joe Skelton assured him he would be fine. "You'll get used to them. They're different from white folk, I'll tell you that, but remember you're there to collect money on existing policies and sell them new insurance policies, not to socialize. But of course if you want to, they're ain't nothing wrong with that. Especially with the ladies, if you know what I mean?" He smiled and slapped Michael on the back. Michael didn't understand at this point, exactly what he was talking about. He would find out before the day was over.

They made out their card with the stops, Joe and Michael needed to make that day. It must have been ninety stops they needed to make. It was the first of the month. That's when the welfare and social security checks came out. They had to go get that money before the customers spent it. They headed out the back door to Joe's car.

The first stop they made was an old lady around eighty years old, named Janie Hamlet. She paid her insurance by the week, but would pay ten weeks at a time. Her policy was only a dollar a week. She reached down in her blouse and pulled out an old ten dollar bill. "Who's this boy you got with you today, Mr. Joe? This my new 'suance man?" Janie inquired of Joe.

Joe gave her a big smile. He was a smooth talker and had a very easy way with the policy holders. "Yeah Janie, this is Michael, he's taking over this debit. You'll like him, he's a real nice boy."

Michael didn't quite know what to say or do, but he smiled as well, and told Janie he was glad to meet her and if he could be of any other service to her with her or anyone else's insurance needs he would be happy to help them. Janie said hello and Joe told her Michael would see her on the first of the next month.

They made what seemed like dozens of calls , when finally Joe said "Son, you hungry? Let's get on down to Chenalt's and grab a bite. Some of the other boys should be there by now."

Michael was all for that, cause he was hungry as hell. He felt pretty good about the morning's work. Yeah, he thought he was going to really like the insurance business.

They pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and it was jam packed with the noon lunch crowd. They walked inside and sure enough, about eight of the other agents were sitting at a booth toward the back. They waved at Joe and Michael as they walked in, and sat down at the booth across from the other fellas.

One of the old agents named John Gullet inquired of Joe. "Who you got with you there Joe, that your new boy? What's his name?"

Joe patted Michael on the back in that good ole boy way. "This here is Michael Parsons. Just putting him on nineteen."

John said he was glad to meet Michael and a couple of the other guys, Bob, Wayne, and Bubba, introduced themselves. Michael said he was glad to meet them as well.

They all finished their food and then something happened that totally surprised Michael. They all started ordering rounds of beers. Before he knew it the table was filled with bottles. Michael was surprised but he had to admit, this was his kind of job.

They drank all the way up to three o'clock, when Joe finally said. "Well I guess we've better get going, Michael, we got a few more calls to make "

They did make a few more and about dark ended up in a project that was jokingly named "pussy valley". They knocked on a door somewhere in the middle of many, in the run down housing project. The lady behind the door yelled. "Who it is"?

Joe announced, "Life of Georgia insurance man."

An attractive black lady around forty opened the door. Her name was Hazel Jones. "Hi Joe, where you been so long?" She gave him a big hug. "Who's this handsome young man you got with you?"

Joe said, "Oh, this is Michael. Michael this is Hazel."

She pointed at the couch and told them to have a seat. She asked, already knowing the answer, "You boys want a beer?" Of course they did and she brought them in, opening the tops as she sat them down.

One thing lead to another and before Michael knew it, Joe and Hazel were heading up the stairs. They left Michael sitting on the couch alone with his beer, or so he thought.

Michael was sitting on the couch nursing his beer, wondering how long Joe was going to be gone, when he noticed a stunning young black girl around eighteen, coming down the stairs. Michael was totally blown away. She was really hot.

Much to Michael's surprise she sat down on the couch next to him. She said in a soft, raspy voice. "Hi, I'm Michelle, what your name?"

Michael didn't know how to respond to the young girl's boldness but managed to utter, "Oh hi, I'm Michael."

She said, "Can I have some of your beer?"

Michael agreed and she took the bottle and downed the rest of it. Then something really astounding happened. She reached over, took Michael's face in her hands, and gave him a big , wet kiss on the lips.

Michael was totally surprised, but out of instinct kissed her back. Before long they were kissing heavily on the couch and the clothes started to come off. They got it on right there on the couch, without any fear of being caught by Michael's boss and Michelle's mother.

They put their clothes back on and out of nowhere Michelle asked Michael a question he had not expected. "So, I need to put me and my new baby in the insurance. Can we take it out on trade? That okay with you?"

Michael, taken by surprise, just shook his head as they both were putting their clothes back on. He took out a couple of applications and started asking Michelle the questions. About this time Joe and Hazel were coming down from upstairs.

"Okay, that's my boy. Writing a policy on his very first day" Joe said excitedly, slapping Michael on the back and winking at Michelle.

Michael decided he really did like the insurance business. He took to it like a duck to water. It seemed to him he was born to do this job. It was so easy, or maybe Joe just made it look that way.

It was Thursday night and that was the night when all the agents went to the office to "call their accounts, or do the bookkeeping for the money they collected that week. This seemed cut and dry to Michael but little did he know what really went on at those Thursday night sessions.

As Joe and Michael walked in the office, all the agents were there and it seemed more like a party than work. There was actually a bottle of liquor on the back table and in one of the corners, three guys were shooting dice. What the hell?

Michael and Joe took a seat at their respective desks, and started to work. One of the guys Bubba, yelled at Joe. "You gonna get in on this?" He was one of the agents in the corner shooting dice, a wad of money clutched in his right hand. "I'm hot tonight, come on and get some."

Joe waved his hand and pointed back at Michael. "Shut the hell up Bubba, we've got to get this damn account called. I'll be back there in about an hour. So get ready to lose your whole turn-in."

They did finally finish with the paperwork and Michael and Joe went back and fixed themselves a stiff drink. Michael felt relieved and very satisfied with the week's work. So this was the insurance business. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

The next morning he turned in his week's collection money and collected his first paycheck. Damn, all this fun and you get paid too. Things were looking up for Michael. He felt at this point he had found the career he was seeking. There was possibility of making a good living and also a chance for advancement. He had paid hospital insurance and two weeks a year paid vacation. What a deal. Michael was happy for the first time in a long while.

Chapter Five

They say all good things must end and that was true of Michael and Martin's relationship as roommates. Michael had grown tired of Martin. He was sloppy, loud, and worst of all always at home. Michael felt like Martin was cramping his style with the ladies, so he decided to get his own place. He was doing pretty good in the insurance business, it was time to strike out on his own.

Martin wasn't too happy about Michael's decision, since now he had to pay the whole rent himself, but he understood. They parted as friends, but the closeness they once felt had diminished. But it was for the best and they both knew it. Some people are just not meant to live together. It wasn't the end of a friendship, just the beginning of a new age of their relationship.

Michael liked where they lived , so he decided to get himself an apartment in the same complex, but way on the other side from where he and Martin lived. He began the daunting task of buying furniture and fixing up his new place. He didn't have a whole lot of money, so all the stuff he bought was unmatched old stuff from a second hand furniture store. But it would do for a start and Michael had a real sense of satisfaction he was living on his own for the first time in his life.

He also bought a new car, which he was extremely proud of, a brand new two door Cadillac Coup Deville, canary yellow with a black top. God he loved that car All the guys at work called it his "pimp" car, but Michael thought of it as a symbol of his new found success

Now since he had he own place it was time to pursue some of the ladies he had met, starting with his policyholder Michele. He couldn't stop thinking about her since their first meeting. He had been paying her insurance and her premium was due again. It was time for a rendezvous. He would even take her out somewhere, though he didn't know quite where. She was his first experience with a black chick and it was the seventies in the south. He didn't know what to do, but he didn't want to treat her like a hooker or something.

Hell, he was getting the cart before the horse at this point anyway. Who's to say if she would even go out with him. It wasn't a given, just because she was black, she should be honored a white guy would ask her out. She was hot as hell, Michael thought he would be honored if she would go out with him. So that was his approach the day he stopped by "the valley" to collect on her insurance.

He knocked at her door around ten in the morning. At first there was no answer. He knew her mother should be at work. Maybe she was asleep. He didn't want to wake her, but he wanted to see her in the worst kind of way. So he knocked again, this time a little louder, almost as loud as the police. He heard a girl's voice say, "Who the hell is knocking on my door this time of the morning?"

Michael was taken aback but managed to mumble, "It's Michael, Life of Georgia Insurance, Michele."

She opened the door with a big smile across her face. She beamed, " Oh Hi! I'm sorry I didn't know it was you, come on in." She had on a t-shirt, maybe panties, and for sure no bra. She was looking hot, and Michael was sporting wood already. She asked Michael to have a seat on the couch and make himself comfortable.

Michele sat down on the couch next to Michael and gave him another sweet smile. Turned out she didn't have any panties on under the t-shirt after all. Michael's eyes were transfixed on her, his hard-on intensifying by the second. She liked turning men on, it was obvious, and she was very accomplished at it for someone of her young age.

Michael finally able to speak said, "Michele I just stopped by to collect your premium for the month of July." Somehow this didn't sound right, even as the words passed his lips. He couldn't think of anything else to say and just sat looking at Michele dumbfounded. His little head was doing all the thinking again and it had one thing on its little mind.

Without saying a word Michele reached over and unzipped Michael's fly and pulled out his throbbing member. She proceeded to give him the best head he ever had in his life. Michael yelled so loud when he finally came, he was sure the neighbors probably heard him and called the police.

Just like it was nothing Michele said, "Well, that should pay me up for a couple of months. So how have you been Michael? I was wondering when you would come around to see me again."

Michael again didn't know quite what to say. This was new territory for him. He had dated a few girls, of course, but this was different. The whole race thing was something he just couldn't wrap his brain around. But, he sure was going to give it a try. He dug Michele and was determined to ask her out. What did he have to lose? All she could say was yes or no. So he finally and shyly said, "So, Michele, I was wondering... I know we don't know each other that well, but maybe we could go out sometime. I mean... I don't know where we could go, but would you like to go out Saturday night, if you're not busy?"

Michele was somewhat surprised by his offer. Going out with a white boy was something new for her, but she decided what the hell. "Sure Michael, I guess we could go out. But I don't really have any nice clothes to wear. Could you buy me an outfit to wear?"

Michael eager to please said, "Sure, no problem, how much do you need?"

Michele not wanting to ask for too much, "Oh, twenty dollars should do it. I know of a club we can go to called the "Hawaiian Isle" in south Memphis. I think you will like it."

So it was a date. This was a benchmark decision for Michael, one that would change his life. At the time, he was unaware of the impact that day would have on his young life. All he knew was he had a date with a hot black chick. In the back of his mind it worried him, but he tried not to dwell on it What would his parents say if they found out about his date. He was pretty sure they wouldn't be too happy about it. And Martin was sure to have a few choice words to say. "Screw them, it's my life. I'm grown, I can go out with whomever I like. Screw all the Memphis southern rednecks who will crane their necks to get a look at us and whisper. Or even worst confront us with angry comments. Screw them all." That was easy for Michael to say.

Michele was going through a similar situation. Her mom wasn't real crazy about the idea of her going out with a white boy. She said she screwed them but only to get the money, she didn't date them. But Michele said she really liked Michael and finally convinced her mom to let her go. So it was on for Saturday night at the Hawaiian Isle. Live music, dancing, drinking, drugs, and you name it. It was going to be a fun night.

Michael went out and bought himself a new leisure suit and a flowered shirt to match. He was styling for sure with some brand new platform shoes as well. He took his caddy to the carwash and got a wash, wax and interior groom for the big event. He even got a haircut, but not too short. He didn't want to look like he had gotten a haircut, but got enough cut to look well-groomed. He was ready. Party time.

Saturday night finally arrived and Michael was ready. He had cleaned up his place, where hopefully Michele and him would be later on that same evening. He even cleaned up his bathroom and the tub, which was no easy task. The scene was set, complete with some primo weed he had bought for the occasion from his ole buddy Jim. He had seen Sharon for the first time in a while. They spoke briefly, but their affair seemed a hundred years ago now to Michael. She still looked hot but he had moved on, he was happy to say.

Michael pulled up in front of Michele's place around eight. It was the projects and the place was alive with activity. Kids still surprisingly playing in the street, thugs hanging around the front of their units drinking quarts from paper bags, and old cars filled with people coming and going.

They stared hard when Michael pulled up in front of Michele's, looking like they would just as soon kill Michael as look at him. He was a little scared, but he eased out of his Caddy and headed shakily to the door. He knocked lightly and right on cue Michele opened the door. Man, she was looking good in her new outfit she had bought with the twenty Michael had given her. Halter top, bell bottom tight jeans, and high heels, that made her beautiful rear a sight Michael couldn't keep his eyes off. Her ole mother was inside glaring at Michael. She didn't say anything, just shook her head and shut the door as Michele left with Michael.

Michael, feeling he had to say something when they were almost to the car finally said, "Damn you're looking good tonight. Glad you decided to come. I've got some primo weed in the car. We'll get a buzz before we get to the club, I really like to arrive high."

"You're looking fine yourself tonight too, Michael. Well, for a white boy." Michele said laughing. She gave Michael a sweet kiss on his cheek. "Hell yeah, fire that mother up, the party is on." My mom said I had to be in by midnight, but screw her, I'm eighteen. Like I'm going to turn into a pumpkin or something. I'll be home by midnight, midnight tomorrow night. 'Cause I got a present to give you later on and it might take some time."

Michael, again was speechless, and without saying a word, his chubby saying it all, opened the door to his new caddy. Michele slid across the seat and got as close to Michael as she possibly could. She stuck her tongue in his right ear for a moment, then gently bit on his earlobe. Michael felt like making a beeline for his apartment, but he did promise her a night out. And after all Michael was man of his word. It wouldn't be right just to take a lady straight to his apartment, without taking her for a night out, so he headed north to the Hawaiian Isle Bar and Grill. Mostly bar, they served just enough food to qualify for their liquor license.

The club was nice, the neighborhood questionable, Michael noticed as they pulled into the almost full parking lot. He worried about his car. He loved that car more than his life. They had smoked half of the joint he had on the way and was buzzing pretty good by then. However, Michael wanted to get even higher. So they smoked up the rest of the jay, and tossed the roach in his ash tray with several others.

Michael, being the gentleman he was, came around to the driver's side and opened the door for Michelle. How galant, she must think I am, Michael thought. Or maybe not. Anyway, he opened the door , she slid out, and they walked arm and arm up to the club entrance. There was a five dollar a person cover charge and Michael handed the doorman a twenty. He got his change and gave Michele ten and told her to buy herself something nice. She smiled, that sweet smile and tucked the ten down in her halter top.

The joint was jumping, as they enterd the club. Ruby Nelson and her band were just finishing up a lively, soulful number. Turns out Ruby was an old friend of Michele who used to live in the valley, back in the days. Ruby and her band were now famous around town and had even cut a record. Wow, Michael was impressed and high as hell.

They sat down at a table right in front of the stage. Michael ordered a Bud and Michele got a double shot of brandy on the rocks. Ruby came over and sat down at the table with them. She was a big black woman, wearing an obvious ugly wig, a low cut dress revealing the cleavage of her enormous boobs. Michael stared at them momentarily until Michele introduced him to Ruby. "Ruby this is Michael. Michael, Ruby."

Michael stuck out his hand and muttered as he shook Ruby's, "Nice to meet you, I like your band. I heard your record the other day, really cool."

By then the drinks had arrived and Michael took a long pull from his beer and sat back and listened to Michele and Ruby talk over old times. He was stoned as hell and the beer was really going down smooth. The ladies talked for what seemed like days. Michael was in the zone and didn't hear a word they were saying, just sat and enjoyed his buzz.

Abruptly, Ruby stood up and said it was time for her and the band to go back on stage. As she made her way, Michael refocused on Michele and said rather clumsily, "Hey, Michele, what's happening?" She just sort of looked at Michael funny and took a sip from her glass of brandy, shaking her head. Michael reached over and gave Michele a little kiss on the cheek and sat back to enjoy the music. She grabbed Michael's hand and gave it a little sexy squeeze and turned it loose with a pat.

Ruby and her band did a couple of numbers, everyone was having a good time, not noticing the two men who pulled up and parked in front of the club. They were both wearing black shirts and pants. They went around to the trunk and pulled something out. They both pulled black masks out of their pockets, and put them on, as they made their way towards the club.

When they entered the door, the doorman tried to stop them. One of the men knocked him to the floor with the butt of the shotgun he was carrying. The poor doorman fell like a sack of potatoes, tumbling over his chair, screaming in pain. No one heard him above the loud musical sounds of Ruby and her band.

They walked slowly, almost stealthily, through the crowd unnoticed. That's until the man with the shotgun fired off a round at the ceiling and yelled at the top of his voice, "Everybody, on the floor. Do it now, people."

Michael and Michele were so stoned the whole thing seemed like a surrealistic dream, all happening in slow motion. Despite of their condition they both dived up under their table, waiting for whatever was going to happen to happen

The man with the shot gun kept an eye on the customers while the other man grabbed one of the waitresses around the neck, and put a pistol to her head. He asked angrily, "Where's the manager, bitch?"

Scared to death she timidly answered, "He in the back. Please don't kill me."

About that time, the manager, a large black man in black trousers and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, burst through the door from the kitchen. He was carrying a shot gun, pointed in the direction the robbers. "What the hell is going on out here?" He inquired.

Without a word the two robbers opened fire on the manager. He returned fire dropping the man with the pistol, blood spurting everywhere from the shotgun wound to his neck and chest. He dropped to the floor twitching, the man with the shotgun fired and hit the manager in the arm, knocking him to the floor.

The man with the shotgun had been hit in the leg and he limped towards the door, as the manager lie helplessly on the floor.

The robber made it to his car, cranked up and left the club parking lot, tires screeching, breaking the silence of the otherwise quiet night.

There was not a sound in the club, as all the patrons cautiously stayed in place making sure the coast was clear. Michael and Michele cowered and hugged under the table, adding to the closeness they had felt for each other.

In time the patrons starting to stir. The manager was struggling to get off the floor, bleeding heavily from his wound. Someone yelled, "Call an ambulance, for God's sake!"

One of the waitresses finally did.

Needless to say this pretty well ended the happy couple's evening at the club. They headed for the door and fast. They jumped in Michael's caddy, without the formality of earlier in the evening, and took off down the road. They drove in silence for a few minutes, shell shocked from the events of the evening. Finally Michael said, "You all right Michele? Damn that scared the hell out of me. I need to go home and change my drawers, if you know what I mean."

Michele laughed nervously, "No kidding. Let's just go to your place. I still have that present I want to give you." She gave Michael a sweet kiss on the lips and a big hug that she held all the way to Michael's apartment.

Michael almost ran off the road in a hurry to get back to his place. His brain was almost shut down, as all the blood ran quickly to his engorged member. He forgot all about the events of the evening, it was time to get busy. He was focused on one thing and one thing only; getting Michele in his bed and as soon as possible.

He screeched into his apartment complex, turning so hard it felt like he was going to roll his caddy. He found a parking spot, jumped out of the car, went around to let Michele out, grabbed her hand and headed for his apartment in a hurry.

He opened the front door and led Michele in, locked the door, and the clothes started flying. They made it as far as the couch wrapped in a lust filled embrace, with tongue sizzling kisses, and passion out of control. The whole thing only lasted a couple of minutes but it seemed like an hour. They lay exhausted on the couch in each other's arms enjoying the afterglow.

In a few minutes, Michael cleared his throat and shyly said, "How about a shower?"

Of course Michele agreed and soon they were in the hot water soaping up each other, kissing, the passion growing again in their young loins.

They grabbed a couple of towels and dried each other off. Then they headed for the bedroom and climbed in between the sheets.

"It's time for your present now, Michael." Michele said with a sexy purr. She proceeded to give Michael a blow job that surpassed the one she had given him at her house just days before. Michael needless to say was in heaven.

After she was finished, he proceeded to return the favor bringing Michele to climax numerous times.

They made love throughout the night and the sun was just peeking up from behind the clouds as he dropped Michele off at her place in the valley. So much for her midnight curfew.

The sun was rising like a "red rubber ball" in the words of the old song, Michael had climbed in his bed and was just about asleep. Luckily it was a Saturday and he had the day off. He was planning on sleeping most of the day, but sometimes things don't always go the way you plan.

He had already started to dream. He was in that early stage right before you fall fast asleep, when the phone rang loudly. At first Michael thought he was dreaming but soon realized it was indeed his phone. Reaching for the phone he muttered, "Damn, who could that be? Surely it's not Michele." He grabbed at the phone, but knocked the receiver on the floor with a thud. He fumbled around for a few seconds and finally recovered it. "Hello," Michael said in a groggy voice.

The voice on the other end was loud and panicked. "Michael, wake up, it's mom. Michael!

"Yeah, yeah, mom... I'm awake, what's wrong," he managed to say.

His mother yelled, "It's your father. They had to rush him to the hospital a few minutes ago. They say he had a heart attack. We're at the Baptist Hospital, downtown, the emergency room. You need to come. They're taking him into surgery. Michael, you need to come now!"

Michael had all good intentions of dragging himself out of bed and going to the hospital. He knew it was important that he go, but somehow he couldn't get his tired stoned body to cooperate. He fell immediately and blissfully back to sleep. He dreamed about floating in a cloud and angels in G-strings giving him table dances. The phone abruptly and rudely brought him back to reality once again. Michael looked at the clock, it was after noon. Michael threw the clock on the floor and yelled, "Damn" and picked up the phone. It was his mom again and she wasn't happy. "Okay, okay, mom. I know, mom. I'm on my way."

This time he made sure his feet hit the floor. He jumped in the shower, took a quick one, shaved, dressed and headed out the door to the hospital. He got downtown in record time, found a parking spot, and sprinted to the door of the emergency room.

He saw his mom, sister and other family members in the waiting area, looking like they had been ran over by a Mack truck. His mother was crying, and his sister was trying to comfort her. Michael immediately thought the worst.

"Oh my God," he thought. "What if dad died and I wasn't here." It scared the hell out of him. His dad and him had been through some rocky times, but he loved the guy. He dreaded asking his mom how his dad was doing, but it had to be done.

Dutifully Michael asked his mom, "How's dad?" Is he going to be okay?" He braced himself for bad news.

His mom fighting back tears managed to say, "He had a heart attack, a really severe one. But we got him to the hospital in time. He's in surgery. They're doing a triple bypass. The doctor says it's touch and go. We're just waiting. Michael, what took you so long? Well... never mind, you're here now."

Michael didn't say anything, just held on to his mom, tears streaming down his face.

They waited for what seemed like days, finally the doctor came walking around the corner, pulling off his surgical mask and gloves, looking tired as hell.

The whole family stood up in unison, holding each other, bracing themselves for bad news, if it came.

"We caught it in time, thank God. He's going to be fine! He'll be under for a couple of hours, but we'll let you know when he wakes and you can go in and see him."

The whole family jumped up and down and hugged. Michael never felt the same about his father after that day. He never thought about his father dying. It changed Michael, seeing him lying in the hospital bed , hooked up to life support, weak and vulnerable. He had always thought of his dad as indestructible, almost like a super hero. He loved him even more than ever then

Michael and Michele went out a few more times but the whole affair was destined to fail. Michele and her baby's daddy decided to get back together, so Michele felt her and Michael's relationship had to end. She still wasn't too comfortable with the whole race thing herself. They parted as friends. It was good times for Michael. What the hell if it didn't work out.

Chapter Six

Michael's dad spent a few days in the hospital and recovered at home for a few months before he went back to work. His dad was a PBX repairman for South Central Bell. He had been with the company since he came back from WWII. He had only made it to the eighth grade when he was a kid on the farm in Mississippi. He grew up during the Great Depression as the son of share cropper and therefore had to work to help support his ten brothers and sisters. Like many men of his generation he was drafted by the army when he was nineteen. He never went back to that old farm, instead moved to Memphis where he met Michael's mom Miriam.

Everything was going well for Michael at the insurance company. His sells were outstanding and he made top salesman that year, a honor he was immensely proud of. Joe Skeleton, his manager and mentor had been promoted and sent to Hattiesburg, Mississippi.

Michael was asked to take over Joe's spot as staff manager, after only a year with the company. Michael of course accepted the promotion, that's what he wanted. He could see himself as a big shot insurance executive, living in a fancy house, in the rich part of town. He loved money, fancy expensive clothes, cars and the prestige that a upper management position would bring. Michael felt this was the first step on his journey.

The management training school for the Life of Georgia Insurance Company was in Atlanta, Georgia. He was going to "Hotlanta", as it was sometimes called. Peach Street and Underground Atlanta was something he had heard about for years. The whole trip excited the hell out of him.

Michael flew unto Atlanta on a Sunday evening with partying on his mind. But much to his disappointment Georgia had a law that forbid alcohol from being sold on Sunday. Bummer. He was very upset and lost when he discovered one after another of the many bars he saw were closed. He wandered the streets for a while and finally stopped in a little restaurant and got a bite to eat. Well, there was always Monday. He went back to his hotel room, unpacked and climbed in between the sheets.

His six o'clock wake up called stirred him back into the land of the living. Michael laid in the big hotel bed for a few minutes and finally drug himself up and into the shower.

He had a whole week of management training at the coporate headquarters, which he was not particularly looking forward to. But it had to be done. Make it through the day and the reward, party time.

The building where the training was being held was actually right next to his hotel and connected by an enclosed walkway.

Michael made his way across, not knowing what kind of challenges lay ahead that day, but eager to find out. He had only been in the insurance business for one year, so felt a little lacking in self-confidence, as he started talking to the other agents. Some had been in the business five years or more. One guy actually had twenty years with the company.

They of course started like all these schools do with introductions. There were fifteen students in the class including Michael. He was the only one from Memphis. The rest were from various places throughout the south; Mississippi, Arkansas, Louisiana, and of course Alabama and Georgia. This was the biggest assembly of country rednecks Michael had seen in a while. And of course, one token black guy from some little town in Mississippi.

He was as country as the rest of them. Michael just had to laugh to himself at the group that was assembled.

Michael as always considered him a cut above these country southern types. After all he did go to college for five years, even though he didn't graduate. He still considered himself a highly educated individual.

The first project for the week was to learn and recite to the group the standard pitch that was supposed to be used by all the agents. It was boring and tedious, and long. It would put you sleep saying it and even more so listening to it said fourteen times.

The only thing that kept Michael going that first day was the thought of how much fun he was going to have that night .

Underground Atlanta was shops and clubs that were built below the new street systems of the area. The clubs included Sgt. Peppers, Blarney Stone, and the Apothecary Lounge. Former Georgia Governor Lester Maddox ran the Pickwick Restaurant. Just about any night of the week you would see nothing but a sea of faces all up and down the street. A non-stop party, Georgia's version of the Mardi gras.

The day drug on and Michael swore a couple of times he was never going to make it. But five o'clock finally and mercifully came and not a moment too soon before Michael was going to lose his sanity. All right, get a shower, change clothes, party time!

He had nothing on his mind but a cold beer and maybe if he got lucky, a little female companionship for the evening. He was a young single dude after all, in Atlanta for the first time. So what the hell, he might get lucky, it could happen.

Michael found the first bar and walked in. The place was jumping. He was surprised to see so many people on a Monday night. It was happy hour until seven, so he ordered a couple of Buds and sat down at the bar. Man the joint was jumping and crawling with fine women. Michael just sat at the bar observing the action.

A fine looking girl came up to the bar to order a round. Michael said hello and she smiled and got her drinks and walked on back to a table in the corner.

The young lady was sitting at a table with three other equally attractive females. Michael said to himself, "Get your ass up and go over and talk to her. Go on." But he just sat there and continued to nurse his Bud, still too shy to try. Michael decided he needed some more liquid courage so he ordered two more brews and downed them quickly. He was getting buzzed now and feeling a little more confident.

"Come on Mike, go over and talk to the girls," he said again to himself almost in disgust. "Okay, I'm going." He got up and started to make his way to the corner table when out of nowhere four guys suddenly appeared and pulled up chairs with the four girls.

Michael said, "Story of my life, a day late and a dollar short. You snooze you fucking lose." He went back to drink his beer and ordered two more. Even after happy hour was over Michael kept on ordering two more. It was after midnight and Michael was feeling no pain, so he decided to ask a girl that came up to the bar if she wanted to dance.

Michael said in his sexiest drunk voice, "Hey baby, want to dance?" What he thought was a girl turned out to be a dude when they turned around. "Sorry dude," Michael said as the guy looked at him strangely and shook his head. Michael said, "Fuck it." and left the bar. He was really tipsy by now and decided to walk back to the hotel. He was bobbing and weaving like a prize fighter, as he staggered down the now almost deserted street.

Somehow or another, Michael ran across this black hooker on his way back to the hotel. All he had left was ten dollars. His last ten dollars, well in his pocket at any rate. So what better way to spend it than on a little nobber. At least the night wouldn't be a total waste.

The hooker took him between two parked cars and gave him a blow job. It took a while but he managed to finish what he had so ambitiously started. He paid her the ten and staggered on his way back to the hotel

He got on the elevator, road to the seventh floor, got off and weaved his way down to room 707. He opened the door after quite a struggle with the lock, went in and fell on his bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes.

Around six in the morning there was a loud banging at Michael's hotel room door. Thinking it was just a dream, and still groggy from all the alcohol he had consumed the night before, he ignored the noise at his door. The knock came again, this time even louder.

Michael groaned, really not wanting to leave the comfort and safety of his hotel bed, finally managed to ask who was knocking at his door.

The answer he received shocked and surprised the hell out of him. "Atlanta Police Department, Mr. Parsons, open the door," the voice said gruffly from outside of Michael's door.

"Just a minute," Mike managed to say, as he straightened up his clothes and made his way to the door and opened it a small crack and peeped out.

"Are you Michael Parsons?" A big redneck looking officer in a blue uniform and a ball cap inquired. Standing next to him was a even bigger black officer, tapping a nightstick on his hand.

"Yes, yes, I'm Michael Parsons, " He answered wondering what in the hell this was all about. "What can I do for you officer?"

"We need you to come downtown with us Mr. Parsons," the black officer said stepping in front of the redneck.

"What's this all about? " Michael asked looking from one officer to the other.

"Downtown. We'll talk about it downtown. Let's go Mr. Parsons," the redneck demanded.

So Michael grabbed his room keys and went with the officers. What other choice did he have? On the ride to the station he kept going over and over the events of the night before, trying to remember if something had happened that would warrant a visit from Atlanta's finest, but he drew a blank. He didn't have a clue. He sat quietly in the back of the police unit, still groggy, head throbbing, wishing to God he had an aspirin as big as house.

It was really hot in the squad car and Michael was scared to death he was going to be sick all over the back seat of the car. He didn't think the officers would take too kindly to that, because they already looked like they were pissed off about something. Maybe they got called away from their morning donuts and coffee to come and get him, Michael didn't know. But what he wanted to know was what the hell they wanted with him.

The station was jammed full of all kinds of people when they arrived. Cops, criminals, hookers, and everything in between populated the scene as Michael was marched into the squad room. They took off his handcuffs and threw him rather roughly into a holding cage. Two huge black men and a scrawny looking white kid with a scraggily beard, sat in the cage and looked at Michael harshly as he came tumbling into the cell.

The two black dudes looked like they wanted to kill him. The white dude looked like he wanted to do something Michael just as soon not think about at that time. Michael picked himself up off the floor and had a seat on the bench next to the white kid. He didn't look at any of them, instead held his head down and didn't say a word.

Of course Michael's silence was not going stop his roommates from asking him a few questions. One of the black guys, the biggest one said, "What they got you in here for white boy? "

Michael held his head down and still didn't say a word.

"I said what they got you in here for? You deaf or something? Or even worst, dumb?" The big black dude asked, starting to get noticeably pissed.

Michael just shook his head and said, "I don't know. I don't know. I wish I did."

The other black guy laughed and said to his buddy, " Look what we got here, another innocent man. We all innocent in here boy. What you innocent of doing, white boy?"

The white kid put his hand on Michael's shoulder and squeezed. He didn't say anything he just smiled. Michael turned, knocked the boy's hand off his shoulder and got up and moved to a vacant spot on the concrete floor.

Michael was still staring at a spot on the cold concrete floor when an officer came in and all but dragged him to his feet, out the door and down the hall to an interrogation room. The room was dark except for one light that hung from the ceiling like one of those in the old cop movies Michael thought. The room was bare except for a table and three chairs, one of which he himself occupied.

Two men in wrinkled, out of date suits, of course one black and the other white, stood over him with a look on their faces like they wanted to beat his ass, if he didn't give the right answers to their questions. Michael still didn't have a clue what the hell they wanted with him or what he was doing at a police station at six thirty in the morning.

The black one started, "You Michael Parsons, right?"

"What this all about, why am I here?" Michael said, almost pleading for some answers.

"I said you're Michael Parsons. I didn't ask you all that," the black detective said, acting pissed for some unknown reason.

Michael gave a straight answer this time. "Yes, I'm Michael Parsons."

"You were at the Blarney Stone Bar last night?" The white one jumped in the interrogation sounding even more pissed.

"Yes, I think that was the name of it why?" Michael stammered.

"We're asking the questions here, punk," white guy remarked. "Did you talk to a pretty blond girl at the bar?"

Michael really confused confessed, "I guess, I don't know I talked to a lot of people, a lot of girls. I got pretty drunk. I really don't remember."

"You better start remembering, white boy," the black one said. "Did you leave the club with that pretty white girl, boy?"

"No, no," Michael said but wasn't sure. "I don't think I did. I was pretty drunk. I don't think so. I think I would remember leaving with a pretty blond. No, I didn't leave with no one. I'm positive."

The white detective slammed his fist on the table. "Stop lying, God dammit. We know you left with the girl. You took her in an alley. You raped her,then you strangled her to death and left her lying in the garbage. You piece of shit. You better start talking."

"What, what?" That was all Michael could say. He didn't know what to say. He had gotten pretty drunk, but he knew he didn't rape and kill no girl, for God's sake.

The black one grabbed a phone book off the desk and slammed Michael in the head a couple of times. Michael flew out of his chair after the second well placed blow and found himself on the floor looking at the two detectives in disbelief. He had heard of "good cop, bad cop," but this was "bad cop, bad cop," what the hell was going on?

They grabbed him up off the floor and put him back in the chair with a thud. "I'm gonna ask you one more time and you better not lie. Did you leave the club with a girl? Did you rape and kill that girl, you piece of shit?" The black detective said, spitting in anger as he talked and walked around Michael in a circle. The white one just stood back and watched.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Michael said, tears starting to stream from his eyes. They were tears of anger. He was getting very pissed about the way he was being treated. This shit had to stop. "I want to talk to an attorney. What about my fucking phone call, you assholes?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course, you can make a phone call," the white detective said. "You better make it a good one, cause you in a heap of trouble here boy."

Michael was allowed to make his phone call. He called his Dad who was hundreds of miles away in Memphis. His dad said he couldn't make it that day but if they charged him he would try and make it down in a couple of days. Damn, Michael thought, maybe I should have called Martin instead. He probably wouldn't have been much help either Mike sighed and felt very alone. Oh well that was his one phone call so that was that.

A court appointed lawyer also was assigned to Michael and he got the detectives to back off of their interrogation.

This whole thing had to be a mistake, a case of mistaken identity. Michael had gotten very drunk the night before, but he didn't rape and strangle a girl in the alley, that much he was sure of. But the cops were so sure that he was guilty. It scared the hell out of him.

Michael and his lawyer conferred for a while in a room just off from the interrogation room where "bad cop" and "bad cop" had questioned him. He told his court appointed lawyer the whole story, to the best of his knowledge. Afterall he had gotten pretty drunk. His lawyer assured him he had nothing to worry about. The two detectives were just trying to fool and pressure him into confessing to a crime he hadn't committed.

"You didn't kill and rape that girl, did you? His lawyer asked. "I need to know the truth if I am going to defend you."

"Hell, no! No, I didn't kill and rape no girl. How could you think that?" Michael yelled loud enough for the whole precinct to hear.

"I have to know the truth. The lawyer client priviledge is attached, I couldn't tell anyone if you confessed to me." The lawyer explained to Mike. "Now tell me about last night, starting at the beginning, starting when you left your hotel."

Michael told the lawyer about the girls at the bar, the dude he mistook for a girl and even about getting the blowjob between two parked cars by a black hooker. He said the next thing he knew the cops were pounding on his door, brought him to the station and starting asking him a bunch of fucked up questions.

His lawyer told him they had an eyewitness that saw him leaving the club with the girl. They knew Michael's name because he had introduced himself to everyone in the place, including the bartender and the piano player. They all knew he was in town with Life of Ga, Insurance Company and what hotel he was staying at. So it wasn't hard for the cops to find him.

"Damn," Michael sighed. "I need to give up drinking. I can't remember shit after I left the bar, except the blow job of course. I remember that. But I'm sure I didn't leave the bar with any girl. I would remember that."

Writing in one of those yellow tablets lawyers always use, his lawyer told him they had a lineup scheduled for ten o'clock. He told Michael he would be in a line with four other guys that look similar to him and the witness would have to pick out the one he saw leaving the bar with the girl. "I hope he don't pick you, cause if he does, you got big problems. Their case is mostly circumstantial but still it might be enough to get you charged."

Michael was scared shitless. He had never been in trouble, well not this kind of trouble. He had been arrested with a prostitute on Lamar avenue by the vice squad and spent a night in jail. That was more embarrassing than anything else, being in jail for getting his dick sucked. Then there was the time he got arrested for drunk and disorderly after he and some other club patrons refused to leave a bar after they had been requested to do so by the cops. But this, this was a whole different matter. He was in jail possibly accused of rape and murder. Rape and murder, he still couldn't in his worst nightmare imagine a worse scene than the one he was living. He prayed that the witness would not pick him out of the lineup. He was innocent so he had nothing to worry about, he assured himself.

Ten o'clock rolled around and Michael was ushered into a room with glass that he couldn't see through. On the other side of the glass the witness at who would decide his fate. It was the moment of truth and Michael was crapping his britches. A voice from a speaker mounted on the wall told them all to turn to their right. Then the voice instructed them to turn back and then to their left.

The witness stood on the other side of the glass carefully looking at the five men on display. Michael was the third from the right. He tried his best to look innocent, after all he was innocent. The witness asked a couple of the guys to turn back to their left including Michael. The witness looked at the five men back and forth and up and down. The suspense was killing Michael. All he could think was, " please don't pick me. Please don't pick me for God's sake."

A few short minutes seemed like hours to Michael as he waited for the witness to make his decision. "I can't be sure, it was dark. I'm sorry I can't positively say it was one of these men, I saw with the girl," the witness finally acknowledged.

"You are all free to go," the voice from the speaker said.

Michael came running out to talk to his lawyer with a big smile on his face, "Does that mean me, I can go?"

"Yes," his court appointed mouth piece said also smiling. "You can go. They don't have enough to hold you on. Pick up your belongings from the front desk."

Needless to say Michael was late for class that morning. Boy did he have a story to tell those country rednecks in his class. Michael decided he would just stay in his hotel room after class the rest of the week. He had had enough of Atlanta's night life to last him a lifetime.

Michael finished his class and headed back to Memphis where his new position as staff manager was waiting for him. Michael was moving up in the company, climbing that corporate ladder right to the top. There was no stopping him now. Well that's the way Michael felt on the short plane ride from Atlanta back to Memphis. But something lay ahead in his not to distance future that would change his life plan. Someone was waiting for him out there who would change his world. She would become the love of his life, his soul mate, his destiny.

Chapter Seven

Back in Memphis at the life of Georgia office, Michael sat proudly at his desk watching his men at work. The office was buzzing, fifteen guys talking at once about fifteen different things.

It was Michael's first week as staff manager and although he was excited and happy he was also kind of nervous and apprehensive, not really knowing what to do. His main job was to help his men sell insurance and also help them collect on policies that were in arrears or behind in their payments. He also had a brand new man he had to train on top of everything else. But Michael had every confidence he was up to the challenge. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Little did he know as he left his office that morning he was going to meet his dream woman, the one he had been searching for had been hiding in plain view. He had banked at First Tennessee for years but for some strange reason had never noticed a beautiful light skinned, green eyed, black beauty that was a teller at the bank. This particular morning he just happened to be her very first customer.

The bank was almost empty on Monday morning. Michael had stopped in to draw some money for gas and food out of his account when she opened up her window and motioned him over. Her name was Jennifer Johnson, Mike noticed as she was processing his withdrawal slip. My God she was beautiful he thought and found he couldn't take his eyes off of her for even a second as she counted out his money and told him to have a nice day.

Michael thought about her all day as he was training his new agent. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He just had to find out more about her. Was she married? Did she have a steady boyfriend? Would she go out with him?

Several times during the next couple of weeks he went to bank hoping to be her customer. But every time he kept getting one of the other tellers. Not one to give up easily Michael continued to try and finally succeeded. Now was the time, he thought, to make his big move. After all, all she could say was she was married or had a boyfriend or would never go out with a white boy like him, but he was going to find out.

Michael was wearing his favorite dark blue suit complete with vest and was looking good, in his opinion at least. The big moment was at hand. He was going to talk to her and find out more about her.

Jennifer smiled at Michael and said hello and Mike felt like he was going to be ill he was so nervous. But as scared as he was he was even more determined to talk to this pretty lady.

"Hi, I'm Michael," he stammered. "But I guess you already know that. You're Jennifer and I'm sure you knew that too. How are you today?"

Jennifer was looking at Michael very strangely, wondering where he was going with his ramblings. But being a professional, she just kept smiling and processing his deposit slip.

"You know, I've been coming in this bank almost everyday, hoping to get a chance to talk to you, " Michael rambled on. "Have you been working here long? I don't remember seeing you before."

Jennifer, somewhat embarrassed replied, "I've been working here for a year, but you probably didn't notice me because I worked in the office. I remember you. You work for the Life of Georgia, right? I've seen you around my neighborhood."

"Really, where do you live?" Michael inquired.

"I live down on Crump Blvd. with my mom," Jennifer explained, feeling a little more comfortable.

"Oh yeah, I have customers on Crump," Michael continued himself feeling more at ease.

"Well you have a nice day," Jennifer said handing Michael his cash and receipt.

Michael continued to come in the bank and found out eventually she was single and didn't have a steady boyfriend. And finally he got up the courage to ask her out.

The big night came and Michael was extremely excited. Not knowing what to expect but very eager to find out what Jennifer was all about. He had dated quite a few black girls so the fact that she was black wasn't intimidating in itself. But she was different. She seemed intelligent and cultured, not like all the other girls who were hood rats and strippers. She was a young beautiful woman who worked in a bank and best of all didn't have any children. She didn't want money from him. She didn't want him to pay for her insurance or buy her clothes; she just wanted to go out with him.

Problem was her mother. Once she found out Jennifer was planning on going out with a white guy, she hit the ceiling. Jennifer told her mom she was grown and she'd date anyone she wanted. Her mother conceded that that was true but forbid Michael from entering her house. Therefore the happy couple had to meet down the street at the 7/11 store.

Michael understood, his parents felt the same way. So it was all right as long as he got to see her. He was really taken with her beautiful green eyes, pretty face and killer body. She was the whole package and sweet as honey, with a voice like an angel's song. How could Michael be so lucky he thought to himself as he got dressed for their first date, an event that would change both of their young lives.

Michael had decided that they would go to his favorite Italian restaurant, Colettas, for dinner and then later to a movie. She was too young to get into a club so the dinner and movie would have to do. Michael respected her and wanted to treat her like a lady. After all she wasn't a hooker or a stripper or a ghetto rat, like he was used to dating. She was a real girl who wanted to go out with him, just because she liked him. Needless to say Michael was very excited.

The restaurant was very busy on Saturday night as the couple entered. All eyes were on them. Michael tried not to notice, but he was uncomfortable, quickly following the hostess to their table so they could get out of the limelight. He told himself they were just staring because she was so beautiful, but he knew the real truth and it angered him. He thought,"screw these people. Jennifer is hot and I like her so who cares what they think." If she was uncomfortable it didn't show as she walked with her head up, arm and arm with Michael to their table.

They talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company. The food was great and Michael forgot all about the uneasy looks and found himself falling for Jennifer already. Maybe it was his little head thinking as usual, but there was spark between the two of them, of that there was no doubt.

After a great Italian dinner they walked back to Michael's car, holding hands like no one else in the world existed. They had planned to go to a movie but what happened next changed the course of the evening. As soon as they got in the car Jennifer unexpectedly pulled a joint out of her purse. Lit it and took a big toke. Michael was so shocked he didn't know what to say as she handed the joint to him. Michael took a big hit as well and handed it back to her. Then she pulled a whiskey flask out of her bag and took a big drink. "Let's get this party started," she said seductively.

Before they knew it they were over at Michael's apartment, clothes in a pile on the floor, making passionate love on the couch. They moved from the couch to the bedroom and stayed there all night until the sun came peeping in through the blinds. The attraction Michael had felt for Jennifer at the restaurant had turned into love by their first morning together as they lay in each other's arms.

Michael woke up around ten o'clock, having slept better than he had in years. He reached over to the other side of the bed and noticed it was empty. Had Jennifer left him without a word, he thought. But then he smelled the delicious aroma of bacon and fresh brewed coffee coming from the kitchen. Jennifer glided into the room wearing nothing but his AC /DC t-shirt looking fine as hell, holding a cup of steaming brew in her hand.

"Coffee, baby?" She asked so sweet and sexually Michael got a boner. Handing it to him she gently kissed him on the cheek.

"Oh hell yeah," Michael replied taking the cup out of her hand. He put the cup down on the nightstand and kissed her deeply. It was on again.

An hour later they finally sat at the breakfast bar enjoying a meal long since cold, but neither one of them gave a damn. Michael and Jennifer were in love, or as close as they could be after only one passion filled night together. They looked at each other longingly as they ate their breakfast, not knowing for sure what their future would bring but savoring a special moment.

Jennifer's bubble was to break after Michael dropped her off at her mom's place early that Saturday morning. Her mother Louise was waiting on her as she came in the door. "Where the hell have you been all night, you tramp. You been with that white boy, haven't you. I forbid you to go out with him but you did it anyway," Louise yelled right up in Jennifer's frightened face.

"But, mama," Jennifer tried to speak but was abruptly cut off.

"Don't but me, I told you not to go but you deliberately disobeyed, me. You ain't nothing but a little whore and I want you out of my house," Louise yelled loud enough to be heard down the block.

Jennifer breaking into tears cried, "Where am I supposed to go, mama? I love him mama. You don't understand."

"I understand you out all night with some no good white man, just like your worthless daddy. He gonna leave you and break your heart, you just wait. I might can't stop you but I ain't gonna be a part of it. Pack your things. Go live with that white man. See how long he puts up with you until he gets tired of fucking you and kicks you out. Then you'll come running back to your mama. Go on git."

Jennifer was tearful, angry and scared as she packed a few things in an old suitcase and headed out the door, slamming it with a bang. She was in total shock. She never knew that her daddy was white. Why didn't her mama tell her. She wiped the tears out of her eyes as she went to the phone booth outside the 7/11 to call Michael. She just prayed that he would let her stay with him, if not she didn't know what she would do.

"Hello," Michael said in a groggy voice. He was surprised but happy to hear from Jennifer. Just hearing her voice gave him a semi-chubby.

She explained to him her situation and he could tell that she was crying. He felt such love for her already that it broke his heart to hear her in such despair. The desperation in her voice touched him way deep down inside in a place he never knew existed before.

"Sure you can baby," Michael found himself saying without thinking but only feeling. "Where are you? I'll come get you right now, give me a few minutes."

"I'm at the 7/11," Jennifer said talking a little better now. "Thank you, see you in a few minutes. I love you." She said that last part low just as Mike was hanging up the phone. She didn't really know if she loved him at this point because her emotions were all out of whack and she didn't know what she felt for sure. Maybe it was just gratitude for him agreeing to let her stay with him. She'd never been away from home before, having always been close to her mama, being an only child and not knowing her daddy. She was nervous about the whole thing. Maybe Michael wasn't the man she thought he was, after all she had only been out with him once. But she always prided herself with being a good judge of character and she knew deep in her heart somehow they were meant to be together.

Michael came pulling up in his Caddy. Jennifer put her bag in the back and sat down as close to him as she could. She gave him a tender kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, for coming, baby." That's all she said for a while, just sitting there with her head on his shoulder.

"Tell me what happened, Jennifer," Michael finally said.

She really didn't want to talk about it, but he did deserve an explanation for the situation she had now found herself in. So she told him the whole story, a tear ran down her cheek as she did and when she was finished Mike had shed a couple of tears himself. He put his arm around her and gave her a tender kiss on her cheek, wiping the tears from her face with his hand. "It's gonna be all right baby, I promise," Michael said.

So began Jennifer and Michael's journey together. It would be one not to be missed, full of good times, bad times and everything in between. But they would take it together. It was not any easy path they decided to walk, but the strength of their love would always see them through.

Chapter Eight

Five months later, Jennifer was pregnant with their first child. She still hadn't reconciled with her mother and Michael's parents wouldn't allow them to set foot in their home. They were alone, with the exception of Martin and a couple of Jennifer's friends who didn't care if Mike was white and thought their relationship was beautiful. They had discussed getting married but had put it off, not wanting to ruin what they had by making their relationship official. All that "death do you part" stuff just wasn't for them, well not at that point in time at least.

Things had been going kind of rocky for Michael on his job. He had started drinking and doing drugs to excess. They had taken his management position away from him and put him back on the debit in one of the roughest neighborhoods in South Memphis.

Michael had taken to getting drunk and hanging out in the projects, smoking weed with his "people" as he liked to call them. He said he was selling insurance but Jennifer was afraid he was doing more than what he said he was doing. She trusted him, but still she was concerned for his safety.

One night as Michael was finishing up his rounds in the projects the unthinkable happened. Everyone knew he was the insurance man and carried a lot of cash. How could they not know who he was, being the only white face in the place. It had just gotten dark and he was heading between a couple of buildings to his car. Just as he turned a corner someone banged him up the side of his head with a pipe or a wooden stick. When he was down he could see two men with clubs, they beat him until he was unconscious and of course stole all of his collection money leaving him lying in a pool of blood.

He woke up in the hospital, not knowing where he was or how he got there. Much to his surprise Jennifer was sitting next to his bed, holding his hand and weeping. It broke his heart to see her crying. He didn't even care about himself, all he cared about was the woman sitting next to him and the pain she was feeling. She had never looked more beautiful to him. She seemed to glow in her pregnancy, her face and voice that of an angel

"Baby, you're going to be all right. The doctor said you had a mild concussion and a few cuts and bruises and would have a hell of a headache when you woke, "Jennifer said through tears, now of joy, seeing Michael coming around. She kissed Michael tenderly on his forehead and gently stroked his hair.

"My car," Michael tried to ask but she stopped him before he finished.

"Don't worry about your old Caddy, it's safe at home," Jennifer said to Mike still stroking his hair. "So you don't worry about nothing. Just get some sleep, baby."

Michael just looked at her, tears streaming down his face. Oh my God, did he love this woman. She was there for him when he needed her the most. If he ever had any doubts that he loved her, they all disappeared that day and nothing remained but a pure love, strong and powerful and capable of overcoming any obstacle, as long as she was by his side.

The doctor came in to check on him and gave him a shot for pain. Soon he slipped into a deep much needed sleep. Jennifer stayed with Michael that whole night and when he woke up the next morning she was still there, holding his hand and smiling.

The robbery and mugging was the beginning of the end for Michael's career in the insurance business. The projects that he had always loved were now a source of fear for Michael, almost to the point of keeping him from being able to so his job. His fear grew into a full blown paranoia. He had continued to drink and smoke grass, probably even more than before. He was short on his books and the money he had taken was starting to become evident to his superiors.

Michael was fired from his job with Life of Georgia a week before his first child was born. Needless to say the loss of his job and the upcoming birth of his first child was an overwhelming burden for him to bear. He started drinking even more than ever and was shit faced the night Jennifer needed to be taken to the hospital to give birth.

He was actually too drunk to drive but he did it anyway, she had to go to the hospital there was no other choice. There was no time to call anyone else to drive her so he had to do it. He helped Jennifer to the car and was off to the hospital at a high rate of speed. She was yelling for him to hurry, the baby was coming, just what he needed some more stress.

Luckily the hospital was not that far and he was making it just fine until he ran a red light about a mile from the hospital. Jennifer had been screaming at him to hurry and he wasn't watching the road and after all he was drunk. He looked to his left just in time to see a pickup truck heading towards him. He braced for the collision and yelled at Jennifer, to look out. He hit the gas and somehow managed to out run the pickup and zoomed through the intersection.

He was breathing a little easier and was checking to make sure Jennifer was all right when he heard the sound of a police siren coming up behind him. He looked in his rear view and saw the squad car behind him blue light flashing. "Aw, shit, that's all we need," Michael said realizing how drunk he was.

Pulling his car over to the curb he decided to make the first move. He didn't have time for this shit and he was going to make it known that his girl was having a baby and he had to get her to the hospital. The baby was coming. So that's exactly what he did. The officers were very helpful and understanding and actually gave them a police escort to the hospital. They made it just time and they wheeled Jennifer straight into the delivery room, leaving Michael waiting with the rest of the fathers. He felt out of place, like he didn't belong, not even having any cigars to pass out. He waited and paced and waited and drank ten cups of coffee trying to sober up.

It seemed like hours but actually it was only an hour later when the nurse came out and led him to a hospital room where he was to meet his son for the very first time. Michael thought he was going to faint, he was so nervous. He was going to meet his son. They had decided to name him Desmond. Jennifer was sitting proudly in the bed holding a little bundle that was emitting a terrible noise. It was his son, it was Desmond.

Jennifer looked glowing and extraordinarily beautiful as she lie there rocking their son with a look of incredible pride and love on her face, she handed him to Michael. "Desmond, it's your daddy. Hold him Michael, he won't bite, "Jennifer said proudly.

Michael reluctantly took the baby from Jennifer, holding him like he was afraid little Desmond would break. Michael had never held a baby before or changed a diaper, but in the coming months he was going to do plenty of both. Jennifer went back to work after a month or so and Michael stayed at home and took care of the baby. He was happy getting to spend all his time with his son but started feeling like less than a man having a woman supporting him and his child.

He wanted to go back to work but he had lost his insurance license because of his misconduct while working with Life of Georgia. Not only did he take collection money and not turn it in, he also cashed out people's policies and kept the money covering his crime up by writing them a new policy. A couple of the people had actually died and their insurance wouldn't pay. They were suing the company and Michael could be liable. Michael was lucky he didn't get arrested and was happy his only punishment was loss of his license. Michael really needed a job.

Jennifer wanted him to go back to work as well. She didn't mind working but she had rather be supported by her man. A mother's place is home with her baby, not the daddy. The whole situation was ass backwards.

One night after the baby was asleep Jennifer and Michael were talking about their situation. Jennifer had a really good idea that would change the course of their lives forever. She had found out that her ole daddy was a Navy man. She made the suggestion that maybe it might be a good idea if Michael joined the Navy. It would be a steady job with benefits and she felt the military would give Michael something he lacked, discipline.

Michael wasn't too keen on the idea at first but he loved Jennifer and the baby so much he was willing to try it if Jennifer thought it was a good idea. He wanted to be a good husband and a good father. Of course the couple wasn't married. That was another thing that came up again that night. He asked Jennifer to marry him again, this time she agreed to be his wife, it was time they became a real couple. It was settled, they would be married and Michael would join the Navy. They turned the page and a whole new chapter of their life began

Chapter Nine

Michael did end up joining the United States Navy and making Jennifer his wife. They were a happy little family and Michael was determined to take care of them, no matter what. The Navy wasn't exactly his idea of a dream job, but he needed another career after he had fucked up so badly in the insurance business. He had heard a lot of things about boot camp, but he didn't know if everything he had heard was true or not. His basic training was to be in Orlando, Florida and he was scared as hell.

Most of all he hated the thought of being away from Jennifer and his baby boy for several months. It hurt him very deeply just to think about being without them. But he was doing this thing for them. He didn't want to, but he had to do it. He had to be the man and support his family. Michael wanted them to be proud of him.

Jennifer said she would miss him terribly but said he would be with her in her heart no matter where he was or how far away from home he found himself. She loved him that much more for having the courage to sacrifice himself to take care of her and little Desmond.

Time always passes quickly when you are dreading an upcoming unpleasant or painful event. Before they knew it, it was the night before Michael was to leave to go to boot camp. The baby was asleep for a change and Michael and Jennifer lay in each other's arms holding on to each other for dear life. They loved each other so much it was almost impossible to even think about being apart. They made love one last time and held each other close, afraid to go to sleep, hoping the next morning would never come.

But alas, it did come. They saw the first rays of sunshine come peeking into their bedroom window almost in horror. They held each other closer, hoping if they held on close enough they would not have to face this terrible morning. But the sunshine wouldn't leave them alone and Michael had to be a man and face the music, the tune he didn't like at all. He shivered as he left the warmth and comfort of his bed, knowing it would be a long time before he would again feel the comfort and love he found there.

Jennifer heard the baby cry in the other room and got up to tend to little Desmond. She came back into the bedroom holding the little guy, a bottle poking out of his little mouth. She gently rocked him and spoke to him in baby gibberish, "That's my little man, yes he is. Where's your Da da, where's daddy?"

Wearing nothing but a towel Michael came out of the shower and joined in the fun with his son. He missed him already and didn't know how he would make it for three months without him. He would even miss changing his diaper and feeding him. God he loved his family. It hurt, it hurt real bad.

The MEPS station was in downtown Memphis. Michael and Jennifer said their final goodbyes. It was time for Michael to go to boot camp and he met his recruiter there to join a group of other guys and gals who were also going to Orlando, Florida for basic training.

Michael was put in charge of making sure everything went well and everyone made it to their destination safely and on time. He had never flew before and was pretty nervous about that, along with the fear of what he would face in a few short hours. Also he wasn't looking forward to getting that first "navy" haircut. He loved his hair and his mutton chop sideburns, as well as the mustache that he had been growing for years.

The group chatted nervously on the plane ride, each telling their story and the circumstances that had caused them to join the military. Some in the group wished to take advantage of the G.I. bill and earn money for college. Most however were like Michael, they just needed a job. Nerves got the best of them after a while and they passed the rest of the short flight reading or napping. A look of impending doom settled over the group, the fear so thick one could cut it with a knife. The unknown haunted them on that flight and wouldn't turn them loose, churning their young stomachs and shaking their hands.

All too soon they were in Orlando. It was time to walk that last mile. They knew what would be waiting for them when they disembarked from the aircraft, the dreaded bus manned by screaming taskmasters who would be their tormentors for the next three months.

The group was not disappointed as they eased out of the airplane. The bus indeed was waiting for them along with the screaming taskmasters and they were ready and waiting to start this group of recruits on the path of becoming sailors.

"All right recruits, drop them bags and form a line right over here," a rather large black man yelled and pointed at a line on the tarmac. "Let me look at what kind of crap they've sent us this time. Jesus Christ, can you believe this shit SH1? Look at the hair on this one," he said pointing at Michael. "Our barber is going to love you, boy."

The other tormentor was a little white, weasel looking guy with fiery red hair. "They look even worse than the last bunch they sent us," the red head said sarcastically with a squeaky voice that would have sounded comical if the recruits hadn't been so terrified. "Damn bunch of scrubs we got here, Chief," the little guy said disgustedly.

"Grab your bags, and get on the bus, maggots! Move it!" The Chief yelled.

The recruits ran towards the bus and piled in through the door, some falling on the steps, pushing and shoving in their haste but finally making it safely to a seat. Their company commanders jumped in the bus, much to all the recruits chagrin who were actually hoping those two guys weren't going with them.

The bus was silent as it made its way to the base where this ragtag group was to be trained and undergo a metamorphosis from raw recruits to real United States Navy sailors. It was the job of the two individuals who stood on that bus before them to make that happen in three short months. Some would not make it through boot camp for various reasons. The navy isn't for everyone.

Entering the gate of the naval base the bus took a hard right and shortly pulled up in front of a building that would be Michael and his fellow recruits home. The building was white and bleak, almost foreboding, resembling a prison more than a dorm. It was late at night but the building was buzzing with activity as the bus holding the new recruits arrived.

Jumping out of the bus as soon as it came to a stop the company commanders bailed out and immediately starting yelling for the recruits to get the hell off the bus. They scurried off the bus, again tripping over each other. "Fall in on this line," again was the word that came out of the Chief's mouth. The little red head guy ran in behind them to make sure that they hurried and the line was straight.

Harsh reality set in on Michael at this very moment. He was actually in boot camp, there was no escape now. There was no turning back. He had signed the papers to be there, a volunteer. He had to tough it out or return home in shame and to the disappointment of a family that was counting on him. That he could not do and would not do.

"All right, now you degenerate drug addict civilians are going to file in through the door and will be directed to a table with bottles on it," He pointed at the door as he spoke. "You will take that bottle and go into the restroom that is clearly marked and provide us a urine sample. God help you if you can't pee. Do it. Do it now," Chief yelled.

As they filed into the building another group of tormentors yelled at them to move quickly, single file, no talking, and pick up a bottle. They were directed to the restroom which they found out was called the "head." Inside some more assholes were stationed, watching them as they tried to pee in the bottle. Finally after much straining and ugly faces the group finally finished giving their samples. They were hurded into an auditorium where dozens more recruits sat quietly waiting for something to happen. They were directed to take a seat and shut the hell up.

It was indeed odd to see a group of eighty plus young men sitting in complete silence. Their wait was brief and the silence was broken by the big black Chief Petty Officer and his little squeaky buddy SH1. The Chief's name was Kenneth Wade, a very huge black man standing 6' 5" and weighing around two hundred and fifty pounds. He walked back and forth as he spoke, sounding like he was mad as hell about something. He introduced his assistant Petty Officer Danny Dahl who was a Ship's Serviceman First Class, a Navy rate.

The Chief welcomed the recruits to boot camp and congratulated them in their choice of joining the world's finest Navy. He talked a little about what their training would consist of and what would be expected of them while they were his special guests.

The other guy just stood and tried to look mean, but clearly wasn't. He was trying anyway.

Michael's mind was hundreds of miles away. He thought of his baby boy, Desmond and his beautiful wife Jennifer at home by themselves. He wondered what they were doing. He hoped they were all right. Wishing he could have at least called to tell them he made it all right at least, but that was not allowed. Michael missed them already. God what was he thinking joining the Navy.

Seemingly without warning, breaking Michael's thoughts of home, the Chief and the other little guy were yelling at the recruits to fall out in single file by rows and to follow them to where they would sleep for the night and for many nights to come.

The barracks as it was called, was no more than a huge room with bunk beds stacked three on top of each other and lined up in rows and columns. On each bunk were sheets, pillow cases and blankets. They were instructed to take the bunk that came next in order; permanent bunks would be assigned the next day. They were further instructed to make up their beds and try to get some sleep for the next day was going to be a long, hard one.

Chapter Ten

It was a gray rainy day in Memphis, Tennessee and Jennifer had been up almost all night with the baby. Little Desmond slept finally in his crib next to Jennifer and Michael's bed. Michael's absence was felt now more than ever, his side of the bed was cold and she missed him terribly even though he just left the day before. She broke down and cried for the first time since he left. She said she wasn't going to cry but she missed him so. She knew he was doing what he had to do to support her and the baby, but it still didn't make it any easier. She hugged his pillow in hope it would give her some comfort and tried to go to sleep.

Her mind was spinning round and round with thoughts of Michael and the love she had for him. She thought about the day she first saw him in the bank and how cute and shy he was the first time he asked her out on a date. She remembered the day Desmond was born and the look of pride on Michael's face as he held his son for the first time and how he handled the baby so carefully like he would break.

Sleep wouldn't come no matter how hard Jennifer tried, tossing and turning covers in a mess on the floor. Then it happened. It came on her suddenly, a violent sickness that hit her dead in the gut, her head spun as she ran for the toilet. She threw up a meal she thought she ate two days ago and seemingly half of her stomach as well. She stood up to get a damp cloth but didn't make it to the rack before she was on her hands and knees heaving again. The sickness finally allowed her to reach that damp wash rag, and wipe her face, the coolness was wonderfully soothing.

"Oh my God, it couldn't be," Jennifer said, shaking her head in disbelief. " I couldn't be pregnant again. That's all we need right now." She decided right then if she was pregnant not to tell Michael until he had finished his training. He had enough to worry about and maybe she just had a stomach virus or something. She had been very nervous of late and tired from lack of sleep. So she just dismissed it for the time being.

She left the bathroom returning to her bed and fell immediately asleep this time, until she was snatched back to consciousness by a loud sound that turned out to be little Desmond crying. She instinctively jumped out of her bed and grabbed the baby, throwing him over her shoulder, rocking him.

Jennifer had decided to go back to work while Michael was gone to boot camp. She felt it would help pass the time and also they needed the money. She had mended things with her mom, who was now more supportive of their relationship. Louise said if the boy loved her enough to marry her then he might not be so worthless after all. She still didn't like the fact that he was white but she loved her grandson and spoiled him every chance she got.

Michael's side of the family was in total denial of the marriage and a grandchild they refused to accept. They wouldn't even call Michael and he hadn't even bothered telling them he had joined the navy. The hell with them he said. I love my wife and baby and I don't care what they think. He did but he was bullheaded and didn't want to admit it even to himself.

Dropping the baby off at her mother's Jennifer headed for the bank for her first day back at work. It was hard and she missed the baby and Michael but she hoped it would help her take her mind off the emptiness she felt deep down in her soul. Her mom seemed to really love little Desmond and her role as a new grandmother. This made Jennifer very happy because she desparately needed her help while Michael was gone.

She wondered how Michael was doing and if he missed her as much as she did him, hoping he did, knowing in her heart their love was strong and they could make it through these hard days. She said a prayer to herself as she drove to the bank, asking God to look over Michael and give him strength and courage.

Wheeling Michael's old Cadillac into the lot, she smiled as she saw the bank that held so many good memories through the years and felt happy about being back to work among so many friends. She felt suddenly free as she got out of her car and headed towards the door with a big smile on her face and a hope down in her soul that everything was going to be all right.

Chapter Eleven

Trash cans banged on the deck of the barracks floor as the company commanders made their wake up call for Michael and his fellow recruits' first day of boot camp. "Drop your cocks and grab your socks," they yelled as they were pulling recruits out of their bunks and ordering them to get to the company line for roll call. Recruits were spinning around, still dazed from being abruptly and rudely woke in such a fashion, running into each other in their haste to toe the line in varying degrees of undress. Following in behind them was the little red head guy whose face was as red as his hair as he yelled at them urging them to hurry.

Finally the whole company made it to the line and was standing at attention. "Count off, the Chief yelled starting with the port side," he said pointing at the first man to his right. The first guy stood frozen, not knowing what to say. "Count off, say one, numb nuts."

The first man finally got the idea and said one and the next two, until they had went around to all the recruits ending up with a total of eighty men, who stood at attention waiting for the next shoe to drop, but really not wanting to know what was next for them.

It was time for the company commanders to get up and personal with the troops, it was fuck with the recruits time. The big black Chief Petty officer asked one trembling man as he stood with his face only inches always, "Where you from boy?"

"Texas, sir," was the scared shitless recruit's reply as he stood trying not to shake too badly, at his best version of attention.

"Texas," the big Chief growled and laughed all at the same time. "What comes from Texas SH1?"

The little red head who had thus far been silent said, " Only steers and queers come from Texas Chief, and I don't see no horns." He laughed, with a squeaky laugh just like his little squeaky voice.

"Where you from boy?" The SH1 asked the next man standing apprehensively on the company line.

"California, sir," the next recruit answered not knowing what would be coming next.

"What comes from California, Chief?" Red head inquired, of course already knowing the answer.

"Fruits and nuts, which one are you boy?" The Chief said, like he had been through this routine a hundred times, which he had.

So it went as they made their way around the barracks, messing with the new guys. The usual stuff, talking about guys' mothers and saying comments like "your mother is so ugly" and "you're so ugly you probably hadn't had no pussy since pussy had you."

One really bold recruit made the mistake of asking what time did they eat, wrong question to be asking on that particular morning. The big black Chief and the little red headed weasel jumped on him, both at the same time. "You eat when we say you eat, you piss when we say you piss, you shit when we say you shit, you got that you little shit for brains, maggot fuck breath, cock sucking little faggot?"

The recruit didn't know how to reply, just stood there trembling, but finally decide to say," Yes, sir," in a soft timid voice.

"I can't hear you," the Chief said standing right up in the recruits face.

"Yes, sir," the recruit said a little louder.

"I still can't hear you," the Chief said again.

"Yes, sir," the recruit yelled at the top of his lungs.

"That's better," the Chief mercifully said. "Now let's go get some fine Navy breakfast. You'll have five minutes and five minutes only to eat your find Navy chow. You got that?"

"Sir, yes sir," the entire company yelled in unison.

"Fall out in single file, and fall into ranks in front of the barracks, move it people," SH1 yelled.

The company had been instructed the night before how to fall in, stand at attention, cover down, and everything they needed to form up. They were given a left face and proceeded to march over to the chow hall.

A cold, wet day greeted the recruits as they marched clumsily toward the chow hall to partake in their first of many meals to come. The little red headed petty officer counted cadence as they marched down the street towards their destination, strutting like a retarded peacock, sounding like a weasel. "Left, right, right your left. Left, right, right, your left, " he called out loudly.

Michael's stomach growled with hunger as he marched to the cadence with the group of eighty that first morning, thinking of home, of Jennifer and the baby and wishing he was there. The rain poured down harder, he wiped his face and was glad it was raining, the precipitation washed away the tears that trickled down from his eyes. "What the hell I am doing here? Damn, this shit sucks."

The company stood in a downpour, waiting for their turn to go in to eat, they shivered in the fall rain, trying to stand at attention on shaky limbs. It seemed like an hour as they waited, wondering what the heck was taking so long and when were they going to get out of the rain, and when were they going to eat, they were starving.

Eventually the command was given for them to file into the chow hall to partake in their "fine Navy breakfast." "Nut to butt, nut to butt," the Chief yelled at them. "Tighten up that line. Nut to butt."

Reluctantly, not really wanting to get that close to the recruit in front of them the group complied with the Chief's wishes and got literally "nut to butt" with the individual in front of them. This was just one of the many lessons they would learn before this day was over.

Michael groaned when he saw the food that was being served by the pimpled faced, greasy looking individuals that were assigned to dish out the culinary delight that was being offered that morning. Runny eggs, burnt toast and extremely hard potatoes were plopped on a dirty tray and handed to Michael as he negotiated his way through the line. He grabbed a carton of warm milk and headed for the next table to which he had been guided by a nice looking blond recruit with no makeup and a bad haircut. Michael smiled at her, but she just looked straight ahead, taking her job way too seriously.

He sat down and the race was on. "Five minutes and five minutes only to eat your fine Navy chow", rang in his head as he shoveled down the contents of his tray that was supposed to be breakfast. It was horrible but Michael was hungry and he had no idea when he might get to eat again, so he ate every morsel of food he could find, sopping up the remnants left remaining with the crust of his burnt toast.

Five minutes is not much time and before they knew it they were being ordered back outside into the pouring rain to fall in ranks once again. This time their journey would take them to the barber shop, for it was time for them to start looking like sailors, not long haired faggots or little school girl bitches. The barbers were waiting for them with clippers at the ready and big grins on their redneck faces. They seemed to get some sadistic thrill out of shearing the young recruits like they were lambs before the slaughter, saying things like, "Don't worry I'll just take a little bit off the top," and laughing hysterically.

Michael stood patiently, waiting for his turn to sit in the chair, his turn to be stripped of his beloved hair, like Samson was by Delilah. His hair meant a lot to him, it was his most attractive feature he always thought, and now it was being taken away from him. What would Jennifer think of him without his hair? Would she still love him, Michael thought as he waited, waited for that dreaded moment that came all too soon.

Hair fell on his lap, and the sadistic barber laughed as he turned Michael's head into to something resembling an onion. It was done now, Michael thought, as the barber turned him around to view his handiwork in the mirror with horror. Michael wanted to cry, seeing his shaved head for the first time, feeling suddenly very ashamed like he was being punished for the useless life he had led. The reality of his situation came to bear on him in that moment. He had to sink or swim, finish boot camp successfully or go home in shame

Uniform issue was their next stop, it was time to shed their civilian clothes and get in some dungarees. They all picked up a sea bag and proceeded from one station to another, picking up underwear, shirts, trousers, jackets, socks, and everything else that would be jammed into their bag by the time they got to the end of the line.

Their sea bags weighed what seemed like a ton when they were finished and they were instructed to put them on their backs, like a huge back pack. Straining under the weight the recruits were ordered to "fall in" and were marched back to the barracks. By this time they had been assigned their own racks and lockers and proceeded to "stow" their gear, which was no easy task, considering how much stuff they had. They just stuck their new uniforms anywhere they could, having not yet been trained in the art of skillfully folding their clothes to fit into the space allotted for each recruit.

Then just like before they were ordered to fall out and form up outside the barracks to march once again to chow line, this time for lunch. At least it had stopped raining, but it had also turned into a hot Florida day and humid as well. The recruits stood in the midday sun, sweat pouring down their faces waiting, patiently, for the command to march to chow. This time one of the recruits at the back of the ranks had been ordered to call cadence. "Left right, right left. Left, right, right left," the recruit timidly called the cadence as they marched. There would be many more marches to chow and many other places before their time in boot camp was over.

Shots were next on the agenda for Michael and his comrades, so their next stop was the medical department. There was a whole army of corpsman standing by to administer these inoculations to this monster group of eighty recruits, with brand new dungarees and freshly shaved heads.

"Hurry up and wait" is the watch word of the military and the group's visit to medical that first day certainly lived up to that requirement. They were marched into the medical building hurriedly, only to stand for several hours waiting their turn to get the numerous shots that were to be given.

Michael's mind wandered as he stood waiting. He of course thought of home and his family, but it also couldn't help thinking how much he needed a drink and a few hits off some good weed. That sure would be great he thought, but he knew on that particular day, it just wasn't going to happen. So this was boot camp, damn it really sucked, he also thought, wondering when the hell it was going to be his turn to get his freaking shots.

The recruits were in two lines, four corpsman with shot "guns" stood on each side giving each one a shot in both arms simultaneously as they made their way through the line.

Michael grimaced as the two corpsman shot him in both arms, then made his way to two more individuals who did the same. He was feeling like a pin cushion he thought and moved along to the next line which ended up in the optometrist office. They tested everybody's eyes and if they needed glasses as Michael did, they would be fitted with a brand new pair of "bc" glasses. These were very ugly black glasses that had never been in style, ever. The reason for the name was the glasses were so ugly and made the wearer look so unattractive, he could forget about getting laid if he was wearing them.

Having received all their shots and got all the tests there was to get, the recruits again marched to eat chow. "Nut to butt", again were the watchwords, along with "you have five minutes and five minutes only to eat your fine Navy chow."

Michael winched when he saw what was being served up for evening chow. Mystery meat, brown vegetables, and mashed potatoes that were so runny they could be drunk through a straw, was being served up by the same group of pimpled faced individuals that served breakfast, that now seemed months ago.

Five minutes was up and they were again back in formation and marching back to the barracks, hopefully to get some rest Michael hoped. Not likely, this was boot camp and rest was just not in the program, but cleaning definitely was on the schedule for the evening. It was time for the company to clean up the mess they had made in the barracks and the head that day.

"Assholes and elbows" is all the company commanders wanted to see. They wanted clean, white glove, under a spotlight type of clean and they weren't going to settle for less.

Michael and his fellow recruits scrubbed, swabbed, rubbed, swept, and wiped for what seemed like hours but the CC's still were not satisfied, so the work continued on into the evening. He thought he was going to drop from fatigue, but he and the rest of his group of recruits were driven on way past the breaking point and beyond, but no rest was in sight.

"Still not clean enough," is all their fearless leaders could say of their work. A collective groan came deep from the throats of the tormented boot campers, but their leaders did not hear them.

Finally, they passed inspection and it was time for them to take their showers. The company was broken into groups of twenty and each one in turn went in to take a "Navy" shower. That was wet down, soap up, rinse off , dry off and move on.

The showers were entirely open with no hint of privacy, just five showers with four shower heads each so that four men could shower at one time. Michael was extremely embarrassed by this whole process, it reminded him painlessly of how he felt when he was forced to take showers with twenty boys after gym class or football practice. He expected to be hit in the butt by several wet towels, but at least that didn't happen.

He finished his shower and hoped that it was now finally time to get some much needed rest, but unfortunately that was not to be. Out of eighty guys, two were selected to stand the first two hour barracks watch. Michael was one of those two. One of two selected from a group of eighty, unbelievable is all Michael could think as he dressed to assume his first real Navy watch.

The next morning arrived very early, four o'clock in the morning to be precise, for it was time for physical training; time to run and do pushups, sit ups, eight count body builders, flutter kicks, and jumping jacks. There was a little nip in the early morning air and the sky threatened rain as the recruits went about their morning routine. Michael thought he was going to fall out, and might have thrown up but there was nothing on his empty stomach to regurgitate, so he dry heaved as he ran, trying his best to keep up with the younger recruits in his company.

Many years of partying and neglecting his body had manifested itself in his ineptness at the events he was participating in on that fine Navy morning. He huffed and puffed, and sweated and strained, yelled in pain, but finally made it through his first morning of real training. They marched back to the barracks at the conclusion of their work out with just enough time to change into their dungaree uniforms and it was off to breakfast.

The same greasy pimpled face recruits were again on the chow line serving up breakfast, Michael again groaned when he saw what was on the menu. "Shit on a shingle" was the main entrée, along with runny eggs and of course burnt bacon. Michael took his tray and was once again directed to a table by the attractive female recruit, with the bad haircut and a frown on her face. He spoke to her as she pointed him to a table, she again just looked straight ahead, with that "wishing she was somewhere else" look on her tired, but pretty face.

Five minutes is a short time, Michael inhaled his food, drank some lukewarm milk, wiped his mouth, and finished just in time to get in formation for the march to class. One thing interesting about class, besides the subject matter, which wasn't interesting at all, was the ladies that also were in the same class as Michael's company. They were the "sister" company and even though they had been scrubbed down, removing all their makeup and cutting their once beautiful locks, they didn't look at all bad to Michael, who was stealing glances as a petty officer stood in front of them teaching some subject Michael found boring as hell.

Michael zoned, his head nodded and bobbed as the instructor droned on and on about ships and bulkheads, port and starboard, the bow and stern, what the hell was he talking about?

Chapter Twelve

"Congratulations, Mrs. Parson you are definitely pregnant," the doctor said to Jennifer who was sitting on a table in one of those gowns with the back out. "I assume you are happy about it, most ladies are."

"Yeah, I guess," Jennifer said trying to sound cheerful but not quite succeeding. "It's just not a good time for me right now. My husband is in boot camp and I already have a little boy to take care of, all by myself. I have to go to work too."

She got dressed, left the doctor's office with a bit of information she already knew, but hadn't wanted to face. She had known for a week or so she was pregnant, but hadn't told anyone, not her mother or even her girlfriends at work. She still didn't want Michael to know, it would be too much for him to worry about along with the crap he was going through in boot camp.

She called her mom to break the news. "Mom, I have something to tell you. Don't get mad now. I know you don't really like Michael and didn't want us to get married and all."

"Baby, what are you trying to tell me?" Louise said sounding somewhat confused.

"I'm pregnant, mama," Jennifer said, not knowing how her mom was going to take the news.

There was a few moments of silence, they seemed like hours to Jennifer. Finally her mother said, "Pregnant? Are you sure?"

"Yes, mom, I just came from the clinic. I don't know what to do mama. I'm afraid to tell Michael, he has enough to worry about. Maybe I should get an abortion. I can't handle another baby right now."

"An abortion! Oh no, no. No daughter of mind is going have no damn abortion. We'll work it out baby. I know it will be hard but I'll help you, I promise. I know I didn't like Michael at first, but he did marry you, and he joined the Navy to support you and little Desmond. You right, don't tell him right now. But don't worry child, it's gonna be all right."

Jennifer was feeling a little better after she talked to her mom. She still was worried about having another baby, but she now had hope that it wouldn't be an impossible task at any rate with the help of her mother.

Little Desmond cried from the other room, she just sighed and went in and picked him up, sticking a bottle in his mouth, temporarily solving the problem . "Michael, what should, I do?" She asked, like he could somehow hear her through the miles. "You're not going to believe this. You're going to be a daddy again." She wished Michael was there, she desparately needed him at that very moment in time. She needed him to hold her, to kiss her, and tell her everything was going to be all right. Tell her like he did when her mama first kicked her out of the house and she came to live with Michael. Those beautiful, fun filled days seemed like they were years ago now. Tears streamed down her face as she rocked her baby, holding on to him for the comfort she really needed from her husband. "Guess what Desmond? You gonna have a little brother or sister. What you think about that?" She put the baby back to bed and he mercifully went back to sleep. She sat alone in the dark, with thoughts of Michael so far away.

Chapter Thirteen

"Ready on the right, ready on the left, ready on the firing line," the range master yelled as Michael and his fellow recruits stood at the firing line with their .45 pistols at the ready. Michael had never shot a gun before, always having been a peace loving man, never brought up by his dad to shoot firearms or go hunting like a lot of boys. But he was in the military now and the military shot guns, so Michael was standing at the line doing just that.

"Fire," was the next command and so Michael did, still shaking from his inherent fear of firearms, but trying his best. He managed to hit the target a few times, but wasn't sure if he scored good enough to pass or not, frankly he didn't give a damn. Boot camp had gotten worst and worst and he wasn't sure at this point whether he was going to make it or not. He had gotten a letter from Jennifer that morning. "Michael, I hope you are well, me and Desmond are doing fine and we both miss you very much." The letter went on to say, "I don't quite know how to tell you this Michael, but I'm pregnant. That's right you're going to be a daddy again."

"I'm going to be a daddy again," was all Michael could think about while he was on the pistol range. He felt like taking that pistol and blowing his brains out, but that wouldn't solve any of his problems. "Jennifer, I'm sorry I'm not there with you." He said to himself, but was sure the guy next to him probably heard.

He thought every night when he was in his bunk, about something stupid he could do to get kicked out of the Navy. He could tell them he was gay that might get him kicked out, but was afraid they might ask him to prove it. He could beat up the little red headed prick that tormented him every day, but he didn't think anybody would care, and he probably would end up getting beat up himself. He could walk around the berthing naked playing with his cock, but he thought better of that one. He had to do something, he felt like he was going to die, he had to do something to get the hell out of that place.

"Cease firing" the range master said. Michael wasn't paying attention, his mind hundreds of miles of way, and kept on firing. The next thing he knew, he felt a blow to the side of his head, as a M-14 rifle butt struck him and he saw stars from his position on the gun range floor. "God damn it, I said cease firing recruit. Get your head out of your fucking ass before you get somebody killed. Asshole!" The range master was standing over him, growling and scowling and Michael just looked at him, shaking his head, trying to unscramble his brains.

His brains were indeed scrambled even before the blow on his head. He didn't know what to do, he was so confused he couldn't think straight. He thought about walking out in front of car while his company was marching to chow. His family could at least get his insurance money, if he made it look like an accident. Michael had to do something, but the only thing he felt was the right thing to do was finish his training and graduate. Then he would have a job and a good income for four years. All he had to do was hang in there. "Come on Michael, you can do it," he encouraged himself. He said it over and over again and he did hang in there. He worked harder than he had ever worked in his life, he was more dogmatic than ever, his determination was second to none. He vowed to be the best sailor he could be. He had to do it for Jennifer. He had to do it for little Desmond and the baby that was on the way.

Chapter Fourteen

After three long and grueling months, Michael finally made it through boot camp and it was graduation day. He was all dressed up in his blues, the cracker jacks with the thirteen buttons he hated so much. He was looking very handsome in his uniform or at least Michael thought he was, as his company passed in review in front of the stand holding all the big wigs. The company commanders saluted the reviewing stand with pride as the company past having successfully graduated another group of recruits.

Michael was a real Navy sailor now, though having never been on a ship out to sea he couldn't quite call himself a sailor yet, but he did feel a real pride of accomplishment from having just finished boot camp. He was happy and apprehensive all at the same time knowing the road up ahead of him was filled with uncertainty. He did not know what challenges he would face but felt a new found confidence that he was going to make it and everything was going to be all right for him and his family.

Jennifer and little Desmond were unable to make the trip down to Florida for his graduation unfortunately. Michael was very sad that they couldn't make it but he knew they just couldn't afford for them to come. Money was very tight with one child at home and one on the way. He had a night out on the town before his flight the next day to Meridian, Mississippi for his "A" school.

This would be the first time Michael had left the base and he was feeling a little self-conscious about going out in town. He wasn't ashamed of being in the Navy, but he didn't want to advertise the fact, even though his close cropped hair cut would have identified him as a member of the military anyway.

There was a bus that had been arranged to take the sailors to downtown Orlando, Florida. Michael was excited as hell, having been couped up on the base for the better part of three months. He needed to do some serious drinking, partying, and whatever else he could find to get into. He was a need of the touch of a woman as well, but he tried to put this out of his mind, not wanting to cheat on Jennifer, but knowing deep down he probably would if the opportunity presented itself.

The bus was packed with an overflow group of graduating recruits just like Michael, eager for a night on the town and ready, willing and able to party like sailors. Being a member of world's finest navy was an obligation not to be taken lightly, which included drinking until you, puked, dancing all night, getting into a fight, and of course getting as much sex as you get, anyway you could get it. These principles were taught in basic training along with tying knots, marching and firefighting. An American sailor had a reputation he must live up to and Michael felt bound and determined that night not to let his company commanders down on his first night of liberty after three long months.

Michael was bullshitting with a couple of his buddies when he spied her sitting in the back of the bus all alone but looking fine as hell. He recognized her immediately as the girl that worked on the mess deck of the galley when he first came to boot camp, fhe one who had shown him which table to sit at with the plain but pretty face, bad haircut and bad attitude. But she wasn't looking plain that night, she was looking beautiful, all made up wearing a tight pullover top, showing her flat stomach and jeans that looked like they were painted on. Michael was very surprised to see her still there since she was two months ahead of him in her training. But Michael wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so he was just happy to see her on the bus whatever the reason was as to why she was still there. He wanted to get with her, no doubt, but Michael was still a little shy and needed a few drinks or actually quite a few drinks to make his move.

The bus buzzed with the excited conversations of recruits who had been deprived liberty, a basic human need, for over three months. The buzz quickly turned into a roar by the time the bus had cleared the front gate. It promised to be a wild and crazy night, and Michael was going to do his best to try and out party every one of these light weights. "They can't party with me," Michael said to himself. "I'm from Memphis, we invented partying, bring it on, let's do it." He looked out the window as the sun was going down and the night time was being ushered in, along with his growing excitement over the evening ahead.

Moments turned into minutes and almost an hour, when at long last the bus came to a stop in downtown Orlando, Florida. Michael peered out of the window and could see the flashing beer sign of a bar called the "Last Call," which sounded like as good of a place as any to start the evening's festivities. The eager young sailors quickly bailed out of the bus and headed in all directions at once, Michael made a beeline for the bar. The first order of business, a cold beer or actually many cold beers and then he would let the evening take him where it would take him, hopefully not to jail.

Unfortunately the chick he wanted to talk to headed off down the street, with two other male recruits, not a good sign Michael thought. He temporarily put her out of his mind as he sat down on a barstool and ordered a longneck Bud. The place wasn't much, just the bar, a few tables and chairs, a pool table and an old jukebox in the corner, playing a whining country song

The bartender brought Michael his beer and sat it down on the bar on a napkin that said "Last Call. We've got it all, so why not stay all night." Michael took a long pull from his long neck and looked at the napkin, scoffing to himself as he looked around the dive joint. No amount of alcohol was going to help this place Michael thought, but what the hell the beer was cheap and who knows, it might pick up in a little while. The night was young, and Michael's flight wasn't until two o'clock the next afternoon.

Michael had three hundred dollars in his pocket that was burning a hole in it, just itching to get spent on pure ole, down and dirty, fall in the gutter, get wild and crazy fun. The first beer went down fast and smooth, oh my God, it was good, it was like nectar from above, sent down for his pleasure and enjoyment. He ordered another one, then another and before long he had polished off a twelve pack and was feeling no pain, still sitting at the same bar stool in the "Last Call" bar, that now looked somehow beautiful, interesting and surreal. The old lady tending bar started to look better and better with each beer that Michael consumed, he was close to asking her to go out with him when fortunately for him an old buddy from his boot camp company wandered into the bar and stopped Michael from making a big mistake.

"Michael, what the hell are you doing in this place, dude?" It was his old buddy Les Nolan speaking like he was talking through a huge ball of cotton, his words indistinguishable as from a hazy nightmarish dream. Michael tried in vain to get up from his barstool, but not to be beaten and extremely determined was finally able to get up and stand on shaky legs, bobbing and weaving like a prize fighter. He went to shake his friend Les' hand, missed and fell face down on the floor, rolled over on his back and somehow managed to regain his footing.

"Les, what's up man?" Michael said pumping his friend's hand for all it was worth. "Let me buy you a drink. What you drinking man?" His breath reeked of stale beer and garlic from a pizza he had eaten earlier, pushing Les back to avoid the stench.

"C'mon man, let's get out of this place, man. Let's go find a place with some women, you down?" Les asked Michael standing at a distance to escape the onslaught being omitted from his mouth.

Michael readily agreed to the sojourn into the Orlando night and staggered out of the bar hanging on to his friend, they made it down the street about a block and found exactly the place they were looking for, a nudie bar, of course.

A seedy looking character with a beard, ear rings in both ears and wearing a "wife beater" T-shirt, stood at the door collecting the ten dollar cover charge. Michael paid the cover for both of them and they entered the dark, smoky club, Jimmy Buffet's "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw" greeted them as they found a table in front of the stage. Girls of all colors and proportions were gyrating in varying degrees of undress, shaking their money makers for all they were worth.

Michael pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and placed a dollar bill on the stage. One of the girls who was already topless danced over, bent down to pick up the bill, turned around and shook her ass for Michael and Les. They hooped and hollered just like Michael had did for years in the strip clubs in Memphis, putting several more bills in place for the girls to retrieve, which of course they gladly did.

It was table dance time and Michael chose a pretty, black girl with large breasts, and a gold tooth right in the middle of her pearly whites, she flashed at Michael, as she rubbed her breasts on his face. He grabbed one of her breasts in his mouth and tried to suck it like a baby at her mother's tit, but she knocked his hand away explaining that was not allowed. Michael tried to rub her ass but again was denied. This wasn't as much fun as the clubs in Memphis Michael thought, but still enjoyed the rest of the dance nonetheless. The next song started and Michael asked her for another dance, he was hooked on her for the rest of the night.

Les hooked up with a pretty little blond number and she danced for him until he ran out of money. He decided to leave, being out of money and not wanting to borrow any from Michael, who was by this point oblivious to his departure from the club.

So Michael was alone again, which is the way he normally ended up, having always been pretty much a lone wolf who danced to his own tune. He was too far gone now, he wanted sex in the worst kind of way and nothing was going to stop him that night. He had introduced himself to his benefactor and had been informed that her name was Tomeka, probably not her real name but who really gave a shit what her name was, he just wanted to bone her.

He asked her very subtlety what time she got off and did she do that sort of thing and how much would it cost, if she did do that sort of thing. She said she didn't usually but would make an exception in his case because she liked him and by the way it would cost him thirty dollars plus the hotel room. Michael checked his now almost depleted wallet and was shocked to find only a lone twenty dollar bill left, a little short of what he needed. He tried to talk her into less money but sweetly said she couldn't do it, but there was an ATM machine a block or so from the club.

What the hell Michael thought, Jennifer wouldn't miss fifty bucks out of their checking account, after all this was his big coming out of boot camp night, so he staggered down to the ATM and withdrew fifty and returned to club, which was by then giving "last call for alcohol." He ordered one more the road and spied Tomeka coming out of the dressing room and making a beeline for him, now dressed in a very sexy, short, low cut dressed looking hot as hell. It was on now.

Chapter Fifteen

Jennifer woke up just after midnight, Desmond was crying in his little baby bed she had placed in the room next to her own bed. She got up and pulled the baby out of his bed and threw him over her shoulder rocking him, looking for his bottle but didn't find one. "You hungry?" She said holding the baby out as if he was going to answer her, but she knew that he was hungry and wet too more than likely. She trudged to the kitchen with little Desmond over her shoulder, looked in the fridge and pulled out a bottle, putting it in the microwave to heat it up a little.

Her thoughts went to Michael in Orlando as she waited for the bottle to heat up, looking at the clock and noticing it was after midnight. She knew that Michael had a free night and wondered why he hadn't call, giving him the benefit of doubt, but still she was a little concerned. "Where are you Michael?" She said out loud, hoping that he would answer her through the miles,she really needed to talk to him. She wished she could call him, but there was no number to call him at so she would just have to wait by the phone.

She hoped that Michael wasn't some place drunk and in trouble and worst of all with another woman. She tried to put the thought out of her mind but it stayed there, tormenting her, she couldn't shake it, but she couldn't let it destroy her, she had a baby depending on her and one on the way as well. Jennifer wanted to call her mom, but it was much too late so she held on to the baby for the comfort and love she needed, needed from her husband who wasn't there.

Having fed and changed the baby and got him back to sleep, Jennifer climbed back into her own cold, lonely bed, hugging her pillow, wishing Michael was there, she missed him so much. She cried softly at first, then sobbed deeply into her pillow, tears rolled down her face, she let them not even bothering to wipe her face. She was alone against a big cold world, or least that the way she felt in her lonely bed, all alone with no one and nothing. What did she do deserve to live like this, she always thought of herself as a good person, why was this happening to her.

Welcome sleep finally came and she slept through the night, Michael never called to comfort her or tell her he loved her and everything was going to be all right. That's all she wanted to hear, that wasn't asking too much, but it wasn't going to happen that night.

Chapter Sixteen

Michael and his date Tomeka made their way uneasily down the almost deserted downtown Orlando streets, looking for a low budget motel to seal their deal. He was drunk and she was guiding him, almost holding him up as they staggered down the street, eventually finding a place that Tomeka had used before. She knew it was reasonably priced for their purposes, one that catered to hookers in the area, charging rooms by the hour, changing sheets once a week, maybe.

Tomeka told Michael that the room was for twenty dollars for two hours, he fished in his now almost empty wallet and handed her a twenty to give to the seedy looking night manager of the place, who looked at them with hollow, vacant eyes, red with lack of sleep and alcohol abuse.

Taking the key she led Michael up two flights of stairs to room 2B, opened the door and they spilled in the room, heading for the bed which was the only furniture in the room except for one chair.The lights were on but the room was dimly lit, smelling of sweat, sex, and stale cigarettes. Michael didn't notice, he was way past drunk and had one thing, and one thing only, that was having sex with the beautiful young woman he found himself with in a dive motel room, and nothing else mattered at that moment.

"Let's take a shower,"Tomeka said, sounding sexy, but really just wanting to ensure her sexual partner was clean for the business at hand. Also while in the shower she could check out his package to see if it had any unwelcome drips, or other problems. She was an expert at such examinations.

Of course Michael was all for a shower, so gladly and quickly he shed his sweaty clothes and before long was in the shower soaping it up with his date for the evening. Michael was sporting serious wood as Tomeka soaped him up, and he soaped her up as well. He tried to kiss her but like most hookers she didn't allow kissing on the mouth, but instead got on her knees and kissed and sucked his throbbing member instead. Michael loved it, grabbing the back of her head, helping her thrust up and down, almost to the point of climax but just short. "No, no, big boy. Save that, save that for the bed," Tomeka said removing her lips from his Johnson.

They toweled off and headed for the bed. Tomeka asked Michael if he had a condom, of course he didn't but they proceeded anyway, what the hell. In a few strokes they were finished and Michael was dead asleep and his date for the evening was gone along with the rest of the cash in his wallet and his watch. She did leave Michael his wedding ring at least, it wasn't worth much anyway, well not to anyone but him.

Michael woke up alone from a loud pounding on the door. It was the night manager telling him his time was up and he had to get the hell out of the room. He jumped up, threw on his clothes, grabbed his wallet not noticing it was empty, or the absence of his watch and headed out the door, out of the hotel and into the night.

He managed to make it back to his the barracks about dawn, stumbling in to find a party going on. Some of the guys had a bottle of whiskey and were passing it around, they invited Michael to have a drink so of course he obliged. That was all he needed that time of the morning, but what the hell it was it last day of boot camp and he was heading to "A" school in Meridian, Mississippi that very day.

Chapter Seventeen

Arriving at the base in Meridian after a short flight on a tiny prop plane, Michael got settled into his quarters. He shared a room with three other guys but it was a whole lot better living conditions than he had endured for three months in boot camp.

Four weeks of school then it would be off to the fleet. The thought of being on a ship excited and terrified Michael, but after all he was a sailor and that's what sailors did. He was at Meridian to learn about the job he would be doing on the ship. It wasn't brain surgery and glamorous or anyway the job he had envisioned doing for the rest of his life. He had to remember why he was there, his wife, his son and his future child, they were his motivation. Oh hell he thought then and only then,"Damn I forgot to call Jennifer. Shit! What the hell was I thinking, she must be worried sick."

He did call her and of course she had been worried sick. Michael explained to her that he had gotten really drunk the night before and had simply forgot. She didn't entirely believe his story but she was just so glad to hear from him, she didn't question him any further about his night. Michael felt bad but what the hell, he was man he had needs that he just attended to, didn't mean shit. He was sailor and sailors did that kind of stuff, it was almost like a requirement. A navy man was a hard drinker, a womanizer, a heart breaker, and a life taker. Actually that was a marine but the hard drinking, having sex with hookers and fighting was however a part of the deal.

The base was twenty five miles away from the town which was all right with Michael. He didn't want to associate with the redneck farmer types that populated a little town like Meridian. Michael hated rednecks, they were his mortal enemy and he sure as hell didn't want to go in town in his dress blues. The wearing of the uniform was mandatory, the students didn't have a civilian clothes chit.

Passing most of his off time playing "quarters" at the club on base proved to be the perfect diversion for Michael. He got good at bouncing the coins into the cup and winning a bunch of free drinks which was all right with him. Staying drunk was his favorite way of dealing with his problems since he couldn't score no weed or pills in this little redneck ass place. Of course there was always the piss test which could be given at any time, so he decided it wasn't a good idea to smoke any bud even if he could get some which he probably couldn't.

Some of the females were starting to look good to him after a couple of weeks. One little short black chick in particular caught his eye. He hated to cheat on Jennifer but if given half an opportunity he knew it would happen. After all he was a sailor and it wouldn't mean anything anyway, he had convinced himself, cause afterall he loved his wife. It was a guy thing, having sex for a man was just like shaking hands or taking a leak, it didn't mean anything

One night he had been playing quarters at the bar, a few drinks always gave him the liquid courage to do things he might not otherwise do, well it was a good excuse anyway he always rationalized. He could always say by way of explanation, "I was just drunk. I didn't know what I was doing." So that particular night Michael was pretty drunk and so was the little shorty he had his eye on, so he made his move.

He somehow convinced the young lady to accompany him up the hill behind the horse stables for a midnight rendezvous. She was just drunk enough to consent so she went with him. They laughed and giggled like school children as they walked holding hands up the hill not even bothering to notice if anyone was watching or not.

The excitement was overwhelming as the couple staggered up the hill stopping to kiss uncontrollably a few times on the way. They found a secluded spot inside the barn and lay down on the hay moist from the evening dew. They had most of their clothes off and were rounding third heading for home plate when suddenly the mood was broken by loud voices and the appearance of a half a dozen shore patrol with night sticks.

Michael and the girl were so embarrassed they were speechless as they hurriedly got dressed. The girl cried, Michael cussed, pissed off he didn't get to finish what he had started, damn shore patrol.

They marched the couple off to the duty officer's office who was none too happy about getting woken up to deal with their shit at one o'clock in the morning.

"What the hell do you two think ya'll were doing up there at that old barn?" An Ensign with a thick southern accent asked the couple. "That ain't lover's lane up there. The barn is off limits after 1800, now you both know that."

"I ain't gonna lie to you sir. We were just up there trying to get some. Is there something wrong with that? You really should try it some time," Michael answered too drunk to really give a shit.

The young lady just sat there with her head in her hands, too embarrassed to say anything. Michael never even caught her name, nor did she know his. That's just the way he liked it, no strings attached, after all he was married.

"Look, it's late and this sort of thing happens all the time. But don't let me catch you up there again. Now both of you, get your asses back to your barracks. Now!" The young Ensign yelled, trying not to laugh.

"Yes sir!" Michael and his date answered in unison. They both took off towards their barracks running, not even stopping to say goodbye.

The next morning reveille came early waking Michael out of alcohol induced coma. "God, why do I do this shit?" He asked himself looking at his reflection in the mirror while he took a much needed piss. "And who the hell was that shorty I ended up with last night? I don't even know her name. She was fine though. Fucking shore patrol, always trying to spoil people's good times." Michael finished his business, dropped his towel and jumped in the shower.

Laundry class was first on the agenda that morning with his old buddy SH2 Rhodes. God he hated that guy and the feeling was mutual. "Screw him," Michael said to himself as the SH2 came in the lab and started the class. The petty officer glared at Michael and he shot him a look that said the same thing as shooting him the bird but without use of his hand.

"What the hell happened to you last night Parsons?" Seaman Trujillo asked Michael, laughing and holding his hand over his mouth. "Who the hell was that tail I seen you leaving the club with? You hit that man? You hit it didn't you? You can tell me."

"Yes and No" Michael said with a sheepish grin on his face.

"What the hell does that mean?" Trujillo asked.

"Well, we went up to the old barn up the hill and was fixing to get busy when the fucking shore patrol showed up," Michael answered still laughing.

"Oh shit!" Trujillo all but yelled.

"Excuse me," Rhodes yelled. "I'm trying to teach a class here."

"No excuse for your dumb ass," Michael said under his breath.

"You got something to say Parsons?" The petty officer yelled, starting to get pissed.

"No, petty officer," Michael replied mocking the SH2.

Michael had barracks security watch that night which was just as well, he needed to chill and take a rest from playing quarters at club for one night. Walking around for four hours with a night stick gave him some time to think and try and clear his head. He felt a little bad about the events of the night before but as usual he blamed it on the alcohol. Like the comedian Flip Wilson used to day; "The devil made me do it." The devil for Michael was the alcohol but he didn't even know it or if he did wouldn't admit it.

"A" school lasted a month and Michael graduated at the top of his class much to the disdain of his instructor SH2 Rhodes. But even he had to admit Michael knew his shit and was going to make a hell of sailor whatever ship he ended up on. And it was over before Michael could believe it really not in any hurry to take that next step, for the next step was the dreaded "fleet." He was going to finally have to do the job he had been training for all those months.

Chapter Eighteen

Memphis was a welcome site for Michael as the little prop plane landed on a cold December day. He couldn't wait to see Jennifer and his son Desmond. "A" school was already a distant memory even though he had just left that day. All he could think of was his family. He had a week of leave ahead and he planned on making the most of his time off.

Jennifer and the baby were waiting in the terminal. "Baby, oh my God. It's so good to see you. I missed you so much," she said as she covered Michael with hugs and kisses, little Desmond in her arms.

Michael hugged and kissed her and the baby. "Jen, it seems like I've been gone forever. God it's good to see you too." He picked up Desmond and kissed him. "And look at my baby boy. Damn he's grown. Hey, little man." The baby smiled, drooled and cooed.

Hand and hand the couple headed towards Michael's old Caddy. He had the baby in his arms, the proud daddy excited to be at home and get to drive his beloved car again. He had missed it almost as much as his family. His canary yellow Coup De Ville sat almost majestic in the airport lot proudly waiting for Michael to take the wheel.

Being a southern gentleman Michael opened the door for Jennifer handing her the baby She got in, he shut the door and slid in behind the wheel. "I'm back, my old friend," he said to his beautiful car like he expected it to answer. He cranked up the engine and sat listening to the purr with a big smile on his face for a few moments before driving off towards their apartment in the east side of town.

A freshly decorated Christmas tree unexpectedly greeted Michael as he opened the door to his tiny modestly furnished apartment. "Oh wow, a Christmas tree! Looks great babe. I'd almost forgotten it was Christmas. Well two days ago but, this is nice, thanks Jen." He stood and admired the tree for a minute, a single tear rolled down his cheek. He picked up a present with his name on it from under the tree and shook it. "I didn't get you and the baby anything, I'm afraid," Michael said wiping tears from his eyes.

"That's okay. You're home that's present enough for us," Jennifer said reaching out and holding on to Michael for dear life. "I don't know if am cut out to be a sailor's wife."

"I know what you mean. I'm not sure if I'm cut out to be a sailor. It's not the work it's the loneliness, the emptiness in my heart, the hole in my soul when I'm away from you and Desmond. I don't know if I can take it. It's just so hard and I know it's hard for you too baby." Michael kneeled next to her crying like a new born, holding her like he would never let her go. "But what else can I do? I'm a sailor now. I've got to do my time."

"It'll be all right Michael. Don't cry baby. We'll make it through these hard times. We love each other and we love the baby. Nothing can beat our love. Do you believe that Michael?" Jennifer said hoping to comfort her obviously distraught husband.

Through the tears Michael said, "Yes, I believe."

"Open your presents, Michael. It's Christmas," Jennifer said trying to brighten the mood.

Michael tore into the first present and sure enough it was a nice dress shirt. He held it up with satisfaction while eyeing another rather large one sitting all alone under the tree. "Now what could that be?" Michael grabbed it and as always shook it. "Too big for a tie," Michael said beaming a big smile.

"Go ahead Michael. Open it."

He tore off the bow and placed it gently on the couch. He took off the ribbon and placed it next to the bow. Nothing left but the paper, he gently unwrapped it taking care not to tear it. "Oh wow! A leather coat! I've been wanting one of these for a long time. Thank you babe, how did you manage to buy this?" Michael said excitedly giving Jennifer another big hug.

"Oh, I have my ways."

"I love it!"

Michael had never loved her more than he did at that moment. He could just imagine the sacrifices that Jennifer had made to save the money to buy the coat for him. He would do anything in the world for his family. But what he had to do was be a sailor which meant he would have to be away from the ones he loved. It tore his guts out. It was like a dagger plunged deep in his chest. He knew what he must do and it scared the hell out of him.

"Come eat Michael," Jennifer yelled as she filled their small dining room table with a turkey dripping with butter, candied yams, baked ham, corn bread dressing and sweet potato pie. "I know you've been missing my cooking. You better have. So, welcome home baby and merry Christmas.'

"God that smells good. You know I've missed your cooking babe. I missed your loving too. A lot more than your cooking," Michael said giving Jennifer a deep kiss on the mouth.

Jennifer pulled away. "Later babe, later. Eat now. We'll get reacquainted later. Okay?"

"Okay."

Michael dug in like he hadn't had a meal in years. He hadn't had a meal like this in four months and he ate until he thought he would pop. "I need to lay down for a while babe. Man that was good."

"Glad you enjoyed it dear," Jennifer said with a tone of definite pride in her voice. "Get some rest, You gonna need it, later," she said laughing with a naughty smile spreading across her face.

Michael slept in blissful peace like he hadn't slept in months and dreamed beautiful dreams of his wife and baby and the love they shared together, drifting in a cloud high above his bed. Jennifer lay in the bed next to him watching her man sleep, fighting back tears of joy, the baby fast asleep in the other room. She loved him so much it hurt. She wanted these next few days to last forever, refusing to even think of the terrible moment when he would have to leave once again.

Two hours later Michael awoke to find his lovely wife turned on her side, propped up on one arm, still watching him. "Hey you," Michael said kissing her tenderly on her cheek, then on her forehead. "See anything you like?" He kissed her deeply on the mouth, all the love he felt for her at that moment poured from his soul.

The months of separation, the hardships and the pain, melted away in the bliss of their entwined bodies leaving a passion that consumed them in their love making. The moonlight that slithered in through the curtains bathed their naked bodies. Shadows played seductively on the walls. Everyone else in the world disappeared leaving only Michael and Jennifer, it rotated around them, and they were the earth, the wind and the fire. Nothing was left but their love.

They woke up around seven to sound of the alarm clock. Jennifer groaned, "God, I wish I didn't have to go to work today." She lay back down, hugging Michael.

"Can't you just call in sick or something, Jen," Michael said in a voice partially muffled by his pillow.

"I wish I could babe, but I've already taken too many sick days. I'm off tomorrow and Sunday. It'll give you a chance to get reacquainted with your son. Just one day," Jennifer said still hugging Michael with no sign of getting up.

"Well I guess you better get up and at 'em then," Michael said turning over so he was face to face with Jennifer. He gave her a kiss. "Don't worry I can take care of the baby. Get on up lazy."

"Five more minutes."

"Okay, five minutes, Not a minute more."

A few minutes later Jennifer took a much needed shower. The warm water caressed her body and soothed the nervous edge she felt for some unknown reason about leaving the baby alone with Michael while she went to work. "He'll be fine, Jennifer. Michael is a responsible man. He's a U.S. Navy sailor for God's sake. Surely I can trust him to take care of his child." She let the water run until it turned cold. She still couldn't shake the feeling but dismissed it as an unfounded concern. "I've got to go to work."

Michael in the meantime had went back to sleep, he was laying on his back snoring like a freight train when Jennifer came out of the shower. She just shook her head, went into the other room and scooped up her peacefully sleeping baby boy and brought him in the bedroom and placed him gently in the bed next to Michael. She gave them both a tender kiss on the cheek, quietly left the room, grabbing the keys to her old Ford and headed out the door.

Michael stirred slightly, turned over but went right on back to sleep.

He awoke an hour or so later to the sound of a hungry child. Little Desmond had woke up starving and crying. Michael groaned, "Little boy, what you hollering about? I bet you're hungry and wet." He felt in the baby's diaper and discovered he was in fact wet and worst of all dirty. "Damn, no wonder you're crying." He grabbed the boy up and took him in the bathroom for a much needed bath.

Running some warm water in the bath tub he gently put his son in the water. "Let your ole dad get you cleaned up." He scrubbed the boy down, washed his hair, rinsed him off, and dried him off. "What you think about that. Daddy still knows how to do it." He grabbed little Desmond up, blowing bubbles in his little tummy. "Yes, he does." Talking in baby talk and having a blast playing with his son.

The baby laughed with joy as Michael put a clean diaper on him along with a clean pair of pants and a cute little shirt. "Look at my boy, ain't he cute? That's my son."

Michael played with the baby for an hour or so. Little Desmond was getting tired and sleepy and soon was fast to sleep in Michael and Jennifer's bed.

Puttering around in the kitchen cabinet Michael discovered some Christmas cheer much to his delight. "God Damn, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels. Two of my favorite friends." Looking in the fridge and moving around a few items he found a six pack of Budweiser. "And another one of my favorite buddies. Shit, gonna be a good day. Jennifer bless your heart."

The baby slept peacefully in his parents big ole bed, it swallowed him up making him look so tiny and innocent as he wandered through baby dreamland. Michael peeked in on him, just the sight of his little boy filled him with such pride and joy as to bring him to tears. He gently shut the bedroom door and went back into the kitchen and poured himself a full glass of Jack on the rocks, pulling a Bud out of the fridge he popped the top. "All right, let's get this party started. The gang's all here." He took a big drink of whiskey, chasing it with a big swallow of beer.

The drinks were going down smooth and Michael was just enjoying being at home and free, even if just for a little while. He forgot the U.S. Navy even existed. Boot camp, "A" school, the fleet, the hell with all that shit. "I should go UA, take Jennifer and the baby and go somewhere those assholes would never find me. I ain't no sailor. Why the hell did I ever let Jennifer talk me into that shit?" Michael poured himself another glass of Jack and popped the top on another can of beer and continued the pity party.

I can't do that shit. I ain't gonna make it without my family. But going UA, that's pretty stupid. What the hell I'm I gonna do?" His pity party was interrupted by the sound of a crying child. "Oh shit, the baby."

Michael went in the other room and pulled the baby out of the bed and gently rocked him on his shoulder. "What's up little buddy? You hungry?" Desmond laughed like he understood. He found some baby food in he cabinet and started feeding his son after safely securing him in his high chair.

Desmond seemed to like it and was gobbling down the baby food without protest, laughing and drooling. Michael was enjoying it as much as the baby, talking baby talk and playing silly games with the spoon as he shoveled the strained peas and carrots ambly into his waiting boy's mouth.

"Sorry I wasn't here for Christmas. Daddy was in boot camp, I'm a sailor now. I'm afraid I'm going to be away from you a lot for the next four years." Tears began to slowly trickle down Michael's face as an unexplainable sadness suddenly overcame him. His little son looked at him like he somehow understood and Michael picked him up out of his little chair and gave him a big hug. "I love you more than my own life. I hope you know that."

An idea suddenly came to Michael, one that seemed to be a good idea at the time, but his mind was muddled by alcohol and melancholy. "I know. Let's go to the store and I'll buy you some toys for Christmas." Little Desmond laughed and cooed, so it was decided.

Grabbing the keys to the Caddy and little Desmond, the two headed out the door to the nearest store to buy a few belated Christmas gifts. Michael opened the driver's side door, put the baby on the passenger seat, crawled in, cranked up and took off like a man on a mission. "Hey, little man, how about somes tunes?" Michael turned on a local rock station loud and sang along as the baby now standing in his seat moved to the beat of the music.

It was starting to rain slightly as the duo sped towards their destination, having fun, having a little too much fun. So much so Michael didn't notice that the stop light had turned from green to yellow, to red. He looked to his right just in time to see a city bus plow into the side of his car, flipping it over, rolling it twice before it landed on its top in a crumpled pile of metal, smoking in the middle of the intersection. Michael was temporarily dazed but not completely knocked out. He suddenly remembered Desmond. "Oh my God, where is the baby? Desmond! Desmond!"

He passed out and the next thing he remembered was waking up at the hospital.

Chapter Nineteen

Jennifer was at the bank having a routine day. She had just finished up with a customer when her manager called her into his office. Receiving a call she had never expected, but somehow accepted quickly, she hurried over to the hospital. All she knew was her baby boy and her husband had been in a serious car accident. She had never been so terrified in her life as she drove frantically to the hospital. "Please God. Please, let them be okay. Please God, please." She repeated over and over again. "They're all right. They've got to be all right. God please."

She finally arrived at the hospital, parked her car, and even though she was four months pregnant, sprinted towards hospital emergency room door. She threw open the door and ran over to the desk where a nurse was answering the phone and talking to a lady and her young daughter. "My baby, my husband. I need to see them. Please tell me they're all right. Please say they're all right."

"Ma'am., calm down. What are the names of the patients?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. I'm sorry. I'm just so scared. My husband's name is Michael Parson. My baby's name is Desmond."

"Ma'am, your husband is in room 126, but the baby is in intensive care. I don't know how to tell you this, he is in a coma."

Jennifer dropped to the floor like a stone. The shock of hearing her only child was in a coma was more than she could stand. She was out cold, the hospital staff realizing what had happened rushed to her aid.

They took her vitals and were very concerned when they discovered her blood pressure was elevated and her heart was racing, afraid she might go into cardiac arrest they rushed her into a room and hooked her up to an oxygen tank. They could tell she was pregnant as well and of course this was also of great concern to the hospital staff.

Jennifer's day had gone from bad, to even worst in a very short time, but when it seems things can't get any worst, sometimes they do.

Chapter Twenty

"Where am I?" Michael asked the nurse who came in to check on him.

"You're at the Baptist Hospital. You were in a bad car accident. You don't remember?"

Suddenly, the horror of the accident came flooding back to Michael, like a tide it washed over him filling his very being with terror. "My baby. Desmond, where is my little boy? Desmond!"

"Please calm down. He's in another room. He is fine." The nurse lied to Michael not wanting to make the situation worst.

"I need to see him. I need to see my son. Did anyone call my wife? Please, someone, call my wife."

The nurse assured Michael Jennifer had been called and was on her way. She lied again.

"I'm going to give you a seditive to help you to sleep. You get some rest, I'm sure when you wake your wife will be here. Then you can see your son. Okay, honey?"

Shortly Michael was in dreamland, he would sleep for hours not knowing his baby boy was in a coma, and his wife was in a hospital bed as well.

He awoke a few hours later with a tremendous headache hoping to see Jennifer sitting at his side, holding his hand. She was of course not there. "Jennifer," he called hoping she would answer. He was alone. A fear and panic the likes he had never known suddenly gripped him, realizing he still hadn't seen his baby boy. "Desmond! Desmond!" He pushed the call button, a panicked nurse came running expecting to find her patient having a heart attack.

Mr. Parson, are you all right?" The nurse said in a hoarse, almost breathless voice.

"Where is my son? I need to see my son. And my wife, where is my wife?"

The nurse dropped her head, not wanting to tell Michael the truth, but knowing she had no other choice. "I'm afraid your son was badly injured in the crash, He is in a coma. The doctor's think he will come out of it. They say he has a good chance of making a full recovery."

Michael tried to get out of his hospital bed. "I've got to see him. This is all my fault. If he dies, I can't go on. Please tell me he's all right. Please God!"

"Please, Mr. Parson. Please stay in bed. You can't see him right now."

"Is my wife, is Jennifer with him? If he wakes up alone, he'll be so afraid. Is my wife with him?"

"I'll check for you. Please, you must get some rest."

Michael calmed down and soon was in deep sleep once again.

Chapter Twenty One

The trauma of the whole situation had been too much for poor Jennifer. After she had collapsed on the emergency room floor and was taken to a hospital room for monitoring, another unexpected consequence of the situation had arisen. The hospital staff did all they could but she lost the baby she had been carrying for four months.

Maybe it was for the best at this particular juncture of her life. She already had little Desmond to raise by herself because her husband would not be there. He had at her urging, joined the Navy. Now her son was in a coma clinging to life, if he made it he would probably need a lot of extra care. Maybe it was for the best.

Jennifer would have to accept all this. It would be a heavy burden indeed for her to bear, but life is not always fair. Her love for her husband and her strong belief in God would carry her through, somehow.

"What happened?" A surprised and shocked Jennifer cried as she woke up in a hospital bed, surrounded by medical staff.

"Just lie still," a concerned nurse hastened to say. "You passed out."

Jennifer noticed with horror she was hooked up to all types of monitoring devices. She was in pain for some unknown reason in her abdominal region. Then it hit her, what had happened. "Oh God, please tell me it's not true. Tell me I didn't lose my baby."

We're so sorry," a stoned face doctor replied. "We couldn't save the baby, you had a miscarriage. But you're going to be fine. You're young, you can have another baby."

Distracted for only a moment, her thoughts came immediately back to little Desmond lying in a coma only rooms away. "My son, is he going to be all right? Please, tell me he is okay."

"He is still in critical condition. But we have every indication he will make a full recovery. You just get some sleep. He is in good hands. You can see him when you wake up, I promise."

The nurse gave Jennifer a strong sedative and soon she was asleep. She dreamed of little Desmond, playing on the floor with Michael, and everything was back to normal again.

Michael's injuries turned out to not be very severe, just some cuts bruises and a slight concussion. He was released from the next morning as was Jennifer. Desmond miraculously came out of his coma in a couple of days. He had sustained a broken arm and collar bone in the accident but other that he had no long term effects from what could have been a tragedy.

Michael vowed to stop drinking, a promise he had intended on keeping. He did stop for a while, but the demon was too strong and after he left home heading for his first ship, that promise faded into oblivion like a ghost that had never seen the light of day.

Jennifer and Michael's life had gone back to normal. She had forgave Michael and was determined that they go on with their lives like the whole terrible accident had never happened. After all Desmond was going to be fine, that was the important thing.

Chapter Twenty Two

Jennifer had dropped Michael off at the bus station that cold dreary morning, made even colder and drearier by the fact Michael was leaving again. Michael kissed Desmond and held on to Jennifer like he never wanted to let her go. "I've got to go babe. My bus leaves in five minutes. I'll call you when I get to Norfolk." As tears poured down his face, he grabbed his sea bag and headed towards the gate where his bus was loading. He turned around and waved as he got to the door, wanting to take one long, last look at his family. His heart was heavier than his sea bag as he handed the driver his ticket, checked his bag and got on the bus for the long journey, one that would be a whole lot longer than he could have ever imagined.

Jennifer and little Desmond waved goodbye as the bus pulled out of the Greyhound lot. Jennifer thought she might pass out, her legs wobbled as she fought to remain upright. "You can do this Jen," she said to herself. "We'll be all right," she said to her baby son, who smiled in agreement. She watched the bus turn the corner and then it was gone.

Michael, wiping the tears from his eyes, settled in for the long ride to Norfolk. The fleet awaited. He didn't know what his future would bring, but he knew he had to make the best of it, for at least the next three and a half years. He wanted desperately to make his family proud of him, but he kept screwing it up. He was going to do right this time. No more fucking up. "Don't forget your promise," he said to himself. "No more drinking."

Michael wanted to be true to his promise, he really did. He wanted to change and not be a screw up, after all he was a sailor now. He forced his mind away from his family and to the challenge ahead. He was nervous, but excited about the new adventures that lie ahead for him, and all the exotic places he would visit. Drifting off to sleep he dreamed of beautiful ladies, on beautiful beaches, drinking beautiful drinks with umbrellas in them.

Waking with a start two hours or so later as the bus pulled into its first rest stop, Michael stretched his arms and yawned. "What the hell is this little Podunk town?" He said looking out the window at what appeared to be an old gas station, with an equally as old truck stop attached to it.

"You got thirty minutes to use the restroom and get a bite to eat," the old crusty bus driver said, opening up the door. "Don't be late. I don't wait, got a schedule to keep."

"Fuck you, you old fart," Michael said under his breath as he followed a group of weary travelers off the bus and headed for the men's room. The restroom was small, only a urinal and a toilet and smelled like it hadn't been cleaned in days. "What the hell, any ole port in a storm," Michael said, using a good ole Navy saying he had picked up in boot camp. It was finally his turn and he stood at the urinal and pissed for what seemed like five minutes. "How do you spell relief, P-I-S-S." He finished his business, zipped up and left the head without even washing his hands. Sailors don't piss on their hands, he had also learned.

Michael's stomach was growling, so he decided to see what they had to eat in this little greasy spoon joint. If the smell of the food was in any way indicative of the taste, maybe he would just get some chips and a candy bar. He grabbed a soda out the cooler and went to the counter. "Give me a bag of Fritos and a snicker's."

"That'll be $2.50," a surprisingly attractive young blond with big brown eyes and more than ample breasts, said to Michael so sweetly he almost got a chubby.

Michael fumbled around in his wallet and found two dollars and dug two quarters out of his jeans. "Thank you. Have a nice day." He grabbed his chips and candy bar and headed back out to the bus. "Have a nice day. What kind of lame shit was that. Typical. I still don't know how to talk to girls." He found the same seat he had been occupying and proceeded to eat his lunch in the solitude of the empty bus. "Good thing I'm married," Michael said to himself, looking out the window hoping to catch another glimpse of the cute blond. Fantasizing about her in the buff he did get a chubby and was just about to go to the onboard head to jerk off when several of the passengers suddenly returned to the bus. "Damn!" Michael said, feeling somewhat embarrassed, but still aroused.

The old cranky bus driver drug himself in the bus and behind the wheel, started up and left without taking a head count or saying a word. "What an asshole," Michael thought to himself , taking one more look a the diner as the bus pulled away from the stop. "Damn, I miss Michele and the baby already. Try and put them out of your mind, you've got a long way to go." He finished up his soda and tossed it under the seat in front of him, settling back to take a nap before the next stop, which was in a couple of hours.

A driving rain storm came up out of nowhere waking Michael from a deep sleep. "What the hell?" He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window at the torrential downpour that assaulted the bus, causing it to rock and sway, pockets of water slammed the undercarriage of bus, the old coot driving fought to hold the vehicle on the rain drenched highway. Up ahead a stream flooded its banks washing out the bridge as the bus headed down the road, the driver slammed on his brakes just barely coming to a stop before the bus was swept away.

"Everybody just stay in your seats," the old driver shouted to the passengers who were just about to panic. "We'll just have to sit tight here until the storm blows over and then turn around and take an alternate route. Shouldn't be more than an hour. So make yourself comfortable."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. Damn, I need a drink," Michael said to himself but tried to not think about it too much. Even with all that had just happened Michael was able to go back to sleep. When he woke up the bus was moving again and heading for some damn place.

Michael thought about his family and decided on the next rest stop he would give them a call. Jennifer had taken a sick day so he knew she would be at home. It would be a nice surprise, he thought. Another three hours later and they pulled into some little town just north of the Tennessee line. Michael jumped out and ran straight for the phone booth, pulling a quarter out of his pocket, he rocked it into the slot and told the operator, "collect call to Memphis, Tennessee. My name is Michael."

"Hello," Michele said slowly, and somewhat sadly.

He could hear the operator telling her she had a collect call from Michael.

"Michael, oh my God, it's so good to hear from you. The baby's fine, he's asleep. Yes, I'll give him a kiss for you. Okay, call me when you get to Norfolk."

Michael hung up feeling a whole lot better. He felt like he had done his duty, now he could continue his journey with the peace of mind his wife and baby were doing okay. It was going to be okay.

At this stop they changed bus drivers, trading in the old cranky guy for a fairly attractive light skinned Black lady in her mid-thirties. Michael was very happy and surprised to see her and her name was Michele of all things. He laughed to himself when he saw her name tag and flashed back to those good ole days when he was new in the insurance business. Those days seemed a hundred years ago.

He might just have to try and get to know this new bus driver, talking to her would at least help past the time. You never know, maybe she was lonely, or better than just lonely, horny.

Making sure he was first in line, Michael waited for the bus to re-board, hoping he could get a seat behind the driver to facilitate his plan of striking up a conversation with her. He boarded the bus but much to his chagrin a well dressed black dude with a "Jeri curl" was already occupying the seat he wanted to get. "Where the hell did he come from?" Michael wondered but climbed into the seat behind him, still hoping he might have a shot. "Who I am kidding, she wasn't going to talk to me anyway." He conceded defeat without even trying as was his norm. He thought about his beautiful wife alone at home and his baby boy. He smiled to himself from just the thought of them, but at the same time he was saddened that he couldn't be there with them.

The lady driver boarded the bus a few minutes later, did a quick head count, and they were on their way to Norfolk, Va. Just as he figured the black dude started a conversation with her before they were out of the parking lot good. He had her laughing and hanging on his every word. Michael envied Jeri curl man. He could never talk to women like that. He always needed alcohol to loosen his tongue. Thank God for Jennifer. He was indeed a lucky man and he should get his mind off of other women.

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully, mostly Michael slept, although a troubled sleep he still managed to get some rest which he would need for the challenges that lay ahead. The bus pulled into Norfolk around ten o'clock in the morning. His military hop to Diego Garcia left at one o'clock in the afternoon. He would just grab his bags and jump in a cab and be there in plenty of time, or that was the plan at any rate. But sometimes plans don't always work out they way you planned them. Old Mr. Murphy has a way of showing up when you least expect him. Murphy's law is simple; it simply states that "anything that can happen, will happen."

Michael stood watching as they unloaded the bags from underneath the Greyhound, waiting for his sea bag and his uniform bag to appear. "Ah," Michael said with a sigh of relief as his uniform bag appeared. But after a few minutes and his sea bag didn't emerge he started to panic. He started running up and down the length of the bus feverishly looking for his bag, but it was a no show. "Damn, what am I going to do?"

He received nothing but bad news at the baggage claim counter and a form to fill out to get $250 if his bag never showed up. "Maybe it got put on the wrong bus. There's a chance it may still show up. Where are you staying?" The baggage claim lady asked.

"I've got to catch a flight at one o'clock, going overseas, I'm in the Navy."

"Sorry, we can send it to you."

Michael, feeling like he had been run over by a truck, left the baggage claim area to catch a cab. He still had to catch a flight. Luckily, he had his medical, personnel, and pay record or he would have been in some really deep shit. He didn't know what he was going to do. Most of his uniforms, his underwear, T-shirts, civilian clothes, and toiletries were in his sea bag. He was so nervous in the cab ride to the MAC terminal he thought he was going to throw up. "I'm screwing up again already. But it wasn't my fault. They'll understand," Michael assured himself, hoping he would feel better, but didn't.

As the yellow cab pulled up to the terminal Michael felt a panic attack coming on. He couldn't to save his life get out of the cab, but sat frozen to his seat, the driver looking at him like he was insane, wondering when the hell his passenger was going to get the hell out of his cab. "Are you okay, sir?"

Michael,sat in silence unable to utter a sound.

"Sir, are you okay!"

"Oh, oh, sorry,"

"That'll be sixteen dollars."

Michael handed the driver a twenty and told him to keep the change, feeling embarrassed, he grabbed his bags and headed to check in for his flight.

They were just about to close the door when Michael came running up huffing and puffing. "Is this the flight to Diego Garcia?"

Thank God it was the right flight and he climbed on board to begin a long journey to a faraway land that both terrified and excited him.

Chapter Twenty Three

The flight was long and uneventful, stopping in Rota, Spain, Naples, Italy and Nairobi, Kenya before setting down on the rock, "the footprint of freedom" as it was sometimes called; Diego Garcia, a British island just north of the equator.

Michael didn't care where it was or who owned it just as long as he was out of that damn airplane finally. "Damn it's hot," was the first thing he said. In fact it was over a hundred degrees and humid as hell. "Reminds me of Texas, without the cows that is." He managed a smile even though he felt like crying. "Where the hell is my ship? I don't see any ships here." Michael noted as he surveyed the entire area which didn't take long. "What kind of shit has the Navy got me into already?"

Following the rest of the sailors who he hoped knew where they were going, 'cause he sure as hell didn't, he ended up in an old trailer which turned out to be where he needed to go to check in the God forsaken place.

"Where you headed sailor?" A pot faced, pot bellied, old first class with rotten teeth and breath to match asked like he really didn't care.

Michael pulled his orders out of his bag and showed the first class. "I'm going to the Stark. Is she here?"

"Nope. You got your personnel and pay record?"

"So my ship is not here?"

"What part of no, did you not understand recruit?"

"But, but...

"But what? Your ship is not here. You'll have to check in the barracks here until we find out where the ship is at. You'll be assigned a work detail daily, your assignment will be posted on the duty board."

Michael finished checking in and found out his new home was a trailer with six beds, no restroom or shower that he would share with five other guys. The head and showers were in the middle of a group of several such trailers similar to a recreation park or a camp site.

Luckily Michael had managed to save $120 of the money he had brought for the trip and headed over to the ship's store, as it was called, even though it wasn't on a ship, to buy a couple of working uniforms, boots, socks, t-shirts and underwear. He had $30 left after buying the needed items

Bored as hell and tired as well, but still having a desire for a drink, he headed over to the little bar on the base for some liquid refreshment of the adult kind. He knew he had promised to stop drinking after what happened while he was at home,but he figured what would a couple of beers hurt, to just take off the edge.

A couple of beers turned into ten before he staggered back to his trailer and fell asleep without even taking his clothes off. Reveille went down at six and he drug himself up, got undressed and with only a towel wrapped around his naked ass, headed over to the communal shower. There were twenty or so guys waiting for five showers but he finally got a stall, took a quick one and headed back to his trailer to get dressed for muster which was at seven. But first he would stop by and get some breakfast at the chow hall, he was hungry as hell.

Michael just thought the food was bad in boot camp. The food at this chow hall took bad cooking to a whole new level. Somehow he managed to woof it down and headed over to the area in front of the main barracks for muster.

Michael spent five days on the "Rock", doing such exciting jobs as picking up coconuts on the beach, picking up trash along the side of the island's one main road and of course the most exciting, helping to paint the post office.

Finally his ship pulled into port. He thought, at first, it must be a dream, but there it was, his very own Fast Frigate Guided, the Stark. It wasn't as big as he thought it would be, but it was impressive, nonetheless. He watched with great interest as the ship pulled up against the pier and was tied up. The fleet awaited Michael, it was time to finally get to work

Twenty Four

A light dusting of snow fell as Jennifer looked out of her kitchen window, the cold day matched the coldness and loneliness she felt in her heart. It was a Saturday and she was off. Little Desmond was asleep leaving her all alone with her thoughts. "I hope you are safe, wherever you are Michael," she said, as a tear ran down her face. "I love you. I promise, I'm going to be strong, but it's so hard." She looked out of the window and thought how beautiful the snow was and how great it would be if Michael was there to share it with her.

The phone rang suddenly bringing her back to reality, she grabbed it quickly hoping it was Michael. "Hello," she said only to be disappointed hearing the sound of her mom's voice.

"You all right baby? I was worried about you, Michael being gone and all."

"I'm all right."

"You sure. You want me to come over. We can play some cards or watch some old movies on TV."

"No, I'm fine. Just need to be alone, mom."

"Okay, call me if you change your mind."

Jennifer hung up the phone and went back to aimlessly looking out her window at the snow that was now coming down much harder. She looked at the telephone trying to will it to ring and be Michael, but it didn't ring. She got down on her knees and prayed. "Dear God, I know we haven't talked a whole lot but I need a big favor. I know I don't have the right to ask You, but please watch over Michael and his ship, keep him safe from harm, please bring him back home safely at his journey's end, if that's not asking too much. Thank you Lord. In Jesus name, Amen."

Not having been a very religious person most of her life it felt strange to Jennifer to be pouring out her soul in prayer, but it was a great comfort to her, and she needed it right then. She hoped her words would be heard by the Man upstairs and He would watch over Michael.

Her private moment was disturbed by a loud noise from the other room. "Okay, Desmond, I'm coming." Picking up her baby boy she noticed for some reason just how much he looked like Michael. "Hi, you my little Michael, my little man." She gave him a big hug, he returned it gladly. "Daddy's out to sea, he'll be back real soon, so don't worry, God is watching over him." She said the words and had to hope they were true.

She still couldn't get her mind of Michael, he occupied her thoughts for the remainder of the day.

Chapter Twenty Five

Permission to come on board," Michael said as he popped his snappiest salute to the officer of the deck of the USS Stark.

The officer of the deck returned his salute and replied, "Permission granted."

Michael decked out in his in his dress white uniform carried what was left of his gear onboard the ship. He was scared as hell, the long awaited and somewhat dreaded arrival at the "fleet." He was the new guy, a position he had always hated.

A Filipino sailor by the name of SH2 Armando Torres was waiting on the quarterdeck to take him down to his berthing area. He held out his hand for Michael to shake and introduced himself. Michael, happy to meet someone who would be of help to him, gladly shook his hand and introduced himself.

"Just call me Manny," SH2 said.

"Michael or just Mike," Michael said by way of reply.

Looking at Michael curiously standing there with only a garment bag and a backpack Manny asked, "Where's your sea bag Michael?"

Michael, embarrassed and looking down at the deck said rather reluctantly, "Oh, it got lost, on the bus. I took a bus to Norfolk, and they lost my sea bag."

"Damn, that sucks. Well come on with me and I'll show you where to stow your gear. You hungry? Chow is in fifteen minutes."

"Hell yeah, I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast."

Dinner was pretty good that evening, the first of many Michael would eat onboard the Stark. Roast beef, surprisingly tender, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and dinner rolls were on the menu, much to Michael's delight. He greedily ate it all and sopped up the remaining gravy left on his plate with the last of his dinner roll.

"Boy, you were hungry, huh?" Manny said laughing at poor Michael who was still hungry.

"Hell I'm still hungry."

"I think there's some pie over there if you want some."

"Hell yeah," Michael exclaimed on his way over to get a piece of what turned out to be apple.

"Damn good chow on this boat, I think I'm gonna like it here," Michael beamed.

"Yeah, it's okay. Sometimes it really sucks though, after we've been underway for a long time. You ever been to P.I.?"

"P.I.?" Michael said inquisitively through a bite of pie. "What's that? Private investigator,or something?"

"No, damn new guys don't know shit. The Philippine Islands. That's where I come from. Lots of pretty girls and cheap beer. Partytime, man. You're gonna love it."

Michael's inner voice spoke to him right there at that table while he was eating his pie. "Remember your promise, no alcohol. And for God's sake, no sex. You're a married man with a child."

Manny looked at Michael funny. "We get underway tomorrow. You better get some rest. Reveille is at six and quarters on the mess deck at eight, don't be late."

Chapter Twenty Six

"Reveille, reveille, all hands heave out and trice up. The smoking lamp is lit in all authorized spaces, now reveille." The word blared over the 1MC jarring Michael from a beautiful dream of home; a dream about Jennifer and his son. He had forgotten whilst in dreamland that he was onboard a U.S. navy vessel that was getting underway that very morning. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and covered them against the glare of the harsh overhead lights.

The guy across from him, a big black dude, rolled out of his rack, stripped buck naked where he stood, wrapped a towel around his ass and headed towards the showers. Similarly, a couple of the other guys did the same. Michael needed a shower but was a little shy about exposing himself in a similar fashion. So he lie in his bunk for a few minutes, waiting for the crowd of early morning rain locker lovers to die down.

Michael's stomach growled, he was hungry, thinking about some bacon and eggs or whatever they had on the mess line that morning.

Finally able to get a much needed shower Michael made his way to the chow line which was thirty sailors deep by the time he got there. "Jesus Christ," Michael said in exasperation. "You have to wait in a line to do everything around here," he said to himself, patiently waiting to eat. "I'll get here a little earlier in the future."

"Underway, shift colors," was the word as the USS Stark pulled away from the pier. Two tugs were made up on her, one forward, and one aft, to assist her getting underway. Michael watched in amazement from the weather deck. He was finally a true sailor. He was on his ship and was underway, at long last. "The open sea, is where a sailor is supposed to be," Michael thought as the evolution continued. "Where else would a sailor be than on a ship, and out to sea? This is the real Navy at last." Michael smiled to himself and felt a certain pride overcome him that he had not felt in years. Probably since the days when he was in the insurance business and took over the staff manager job from his mentor ole Joe Skelton, had he felt this way.

He let the wind blow through his hair, what little hair he had, and enjoyed the freedom of being away from dry land. The further out to sea the ship sailed, the more peaceful it became. No noise, no pollution, it was beautiful, vast and incredibly blue.

But then the rocking began. Getting sea sick is something Michael had never even considered. Pitching and rolling, rolling and pitching, up and down, up and down. Michael thought for a minute he was going to toss his breakfast, but somehow managed to keep it down.

Eventually he grew bored , feeling as if he had seen all there was to see and lay below to find his LPO to see what he had planned for him that day. His SH1 was a huge black guy by the name of Kenneth Wade. He had a friendly manner and shook Michael's hand with a vice like grip. "Welcome aboard son. You getting settled in all right?"

"Yes sir, I'm getting to know ship a little. Thought I was going to get sea sick a little while ago, but I managed at least to not throw up."

"First of all, don't call me sir, I work for a living. Call me SH1 or Petty Officer Wade, or hell you can just call me Ken, I don't give a shit. Anything but sir. And you'll get used to the rocking. These fucking aluminum cans rock pretty good some time. If you think it's bad now, wait until we get to the Philippine Seas. That's when it gets really rough. But the reward is we get to spend a week in P.I. You know about P.I., right Michael?

"Manny, I mean SH2 told me about it. Well a little. He said it was a big time party."

"It's a party all right, but watch yourself. You married right? Lot of these Filipina girls looking for husbands. Don't fall in love with none of them LBFM's and for sure don't tell any of them that you love them, even if you're having sex with them. You could find yourself on legal hold for breach of contract or some shit."

"What's a LBFM, SH1?"

"That's what they call the little cuties in the Philippines. Little brown fucking machines, is what it stands for, and that ain't no shit, brother.

"Damn, I better keep my ass on the ship then."

They both laughed.

"By the way, we've got a general quarters drill later on. I better show you the zebra settings you'll be required to make," SH1 said, thinking Michael understood, but he didn't have a clue.

"What you mean, Zebra, SH1? Is that some kind of zoo animal thing or something?"

"God, you are green, aren't you? Come on I'll explain it to you." SH1 couldn't help but laugh as they made their way to the forward part of the ship.

After thirty minutes or so Michael felt like he kind of understood.

"General quarters, general quarters all hands man your battle stations. Reason for general quarters, fire in the main engine room, lower level." A voice over the 1MC boomed, loud enough to wake the dead. There was pandemonium, sailors running everywhere, doing ten different things. Michael was still confused as hell but tried his best to do what his LPO had instructed him to do.

In his haste Michael made a crucial mistake. He stepped through a watertight door, planted his foot on the "knee knocker" and raised up to his full height banging his head on the knife edge. Michael fell to the floor like a stone, a big gash in his head bleeding profusely as he struggled to get up but found he could not. Michael passed out cold, bleeding on the deck.

When he woke up he was in sick bay. Several individuals including the Chief Corpsman, his LPO and the XO himself were standing over him. Doc was sewing up the huge gash in Michael's hairline as the other two sailors looked on in amazement. Doc had cut the hair away in front and with the thirteen stitches sewed in his dome, he resembled the Frankenstein monster.

"Are you all right, son? The XO asked. "Damn that's quite a cut. Man, there was blood everywhere. What happened?"

Michael, too groggy to answer just shook his head. Finally he mumbled, "Zebra, I was setting Zebra, hit my head. That's the last I remember"

"Well welcome, to the Stark, son. Doc'll take care of you. Next time we do a GQ drill, you be careful, okay? Doc, keep me posted on how he's doing.

"Sure thing, XO."

"Michael you just lie here for a while. I'm giving you a day's best rest. You come back and see me tomorrow, so I can look at those stitches."

"Okay Doc, no problem."

Petty Officer Wade helped Michael to his rack after he felt better. Luckily Michael had a bottom and not a top rack.

This was Michael's first day, on his first Navy ship, the USS Stark. A ship can be a dangerous place, Michael learned that, it was a hard lesson. He would learn many more before his tour on the vessel was over.

Chapter Twenty Seven

The sun came up on the Stark, just another day at sea. The boat left the South China Sea and entered the Philippine Seas. Excitement was in the air, it was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife. The next day the ship would be in Subic bay, Philippines for a week of liberty and maybe a little upkeep in between the fun.

Michael was excited as well, but couldn't help thinking about Jennifer and little Desmond. He hadn't talked to her in three weeks and his heart ached to be with her and the baby. Promising he would be good was the best he could do, after all he was just flesh and blood, not a saint. "I will not drink or have sex with any of the little LBFM's no matter how cute they are. I will drink soda and watch all my shipmates having fun and I will have none. Bull shit!" Michael knew if he went on liberty what was going to happen. "I guess I'd better stay onboard the ship. Ain't happening!" Michael stared at the top of his rack, looking at his watch and saw that it was two o'clock in the morning. "Four hours to reveille, damn. I've got to get some sleep."

Reveille finally came and there was activity everywhere in Michael's berthing. The crew was to "man the rails" in dress whites as the ship pulled into port. Everyone was pressing their uniforms, sewing on crows and rockers, and tying their neckerchiefs, in anticipation of arrival. The first day everyone had to wear their whites on liberty. This was a drag but Michael wasn't concerned because he had duty upon arrival anyway. He had the mid-watch that night. After duty section turn over the next morning he had three days off. God, was he excited, just like a kid in a candy store.

"Moored, shift colors," was the word over the 1MC. A cheer rose up from the throng of sailors. On the pier were dozens of Filipina girls, each one more beautiful than the next. The sailors hooted, whistled and hollered. They threw white hats and ship's ball caps over the side to the honeys on the pier that fought to take possession of one like the covers were winning prizes in a beauty contest. Michael just stared in awe. He had never seen anything so beautiful as the girls on the pier that day.

Michael lucked out, the duty section leader decided to send Michael on shore patrol instead of him standing the mid-watch. Not knowing what to expect he mustered with the section leader on the quarterdeck at 1800. Another sailor, an OS1 Paul Sandford was also going on shore patrol that night. After receiving their night sticks and arm bands from the master-at-arms, the two sailors headed over to the main muster of shore patrol personnel from the ships with the "green suit" guys. They were a special attachment of hard asses that did security work for a living and were overall in charge of the sailors from the ships.

They gave a short briefing and some instruction on the use of the night stick. Certain areas of an individual's body were illegal to strike, they were considered to constitute the use of deadly force, therefore were unauthorized. After the brief, the guys were given their assignments. Michael and OS1, along with a Gunnery Sergeant and a corporal from the Marines were sent out to the Barrio Berretta area. It was mainly a strip of bars that covered three or four blocks. In each club were dozens of pretty girls just waiting for a sailor to pay their "bar fine."

The four of them arrived around seven PM or 1900, a military man would say. The two Marine Corps guys took off as soon as they got there with some girls and Michael and his partner didn't see them again until way after midnight.

OS1 said, "well I guess it's me and you, Parsons."

So they began their beat for the night. The streets as well as all the bars were full of drunken squids and jarheads on liberty. The bars were packed because the carrier battle group was in. The bar girls were out in full effect. Michael was so excited he could hardly contain himself. "All these beautiful girls. I'm going to pick the prettiest one I can find while I'm sober, make a date for tomorrow when we get off duty."

"Sounds like a good plan," OS1 said laughing and patting Michael on his back.

Everything was going along pretty routine the first two or three hours. Michael was enjoying the hugs from the girls inviting them to go "short time" with them and affectionately calling OS1 and him the "short time patrol."

A particularly stunning little cutie implored Michael to come back tomorrow and pay her "bar fine." Michael didn't know what that meant but OS1 happily explained it to him.

"I love you, no shit," she said smiling, covering up her mouth like maybe she had bad breath or teeth. Michael thought this was odd, but she was beautiful, with a killer body.

Down at the end of a row of bars was a place called the "Island Girl's Bar." The music was vibrating so loud inside that the whole building seemed to shake. Michael and his partner pushed open the door and entered. Almost like magic, the loud music stopped and everyone in the club seemed to turn and look at them. Almost as quickly as they turned to look they returned their attention on the stage.

A dazzling young honey, nude from the waist down and wearing only a bikini top, was imploring the guys in the crowd to throw pesos up on the stage. As they did she was stacking them up.

"What's she fixing to do OS1?"

"She's going to do a peso show."

"A peso show?"

"Just watch. She's stacking up the pesos, and when they get to be about a foot high, she's going to squat down. Suck all the pesos up in her snatch and hold them for a few seconds. Then she'll hit her stomach and spit all the pesos back out."

"You're shitting me?"

"No, no just watch."

Sure enough, she had the pesos stacked about a foot high and was just fixing to squat down on them.

But unfortunately the show was not going to happen. Out of nowhere ten or twelve guys for some unknown reason jumped up out of their seats and started fighting. A Malay ensued.

Michael and OS1 didn't know whether to shit or go blind. They didn't know who to grab first so they just started grabbing guys, pulling them apart, and throwing them to the floor.

Before long the Calvary showed up. The Gunny and the corporal stormed into the club and began chunking sailors and marines around. Michael didn't know where the hell they came from but was glad for the help.

Soon they had the place calmed down and back to normal. Seems there had been some words between a group of squids and jarheads. Just a drunken bar fight, no big deal. No one seriously hurt and no property damage.

And believe or not, the girl on stage resumed her show. The pesos were already stacked, the crowd that had moments before been at each other's throats now sat enthralled waiting for the big moment.

A soft, slow sexy song began to play on the jukebox. The girl danced around the pesos in an exotic love dance. Gyrating and moaning bringing the crowd to the edge of their seats. She squatted down and brushed her snatch on the top coin in the stack, teasing it along with the crowd, and standing back up, resuming her dance. She twisted and moaned, and danced, bringing the horny crowd of servicemen almost to a frenzy . Just when they could stand no more, she bent all the way to the floor and in one fluid motion sucked the whole foot of coins into her vagina.

The crowd was amazed, and held their breath as she held the coins inside her. She hit her stomach, and with a sexy yell the coins fell out on the floor. You could hear a pin drop as the coins rattled and rolled on the floor. Then there was riotous applause, whistling, hooting and cheering and a standing ovation. The honey took a bow and left the stage. The cheers continued on for a good five minutes.

"Damn, that was intense," Michael said. Still shaking.

OS1 just laughed. "Welcome to P.I., boot camp."

Michael had been looking for the prettiest girl in the Barrio all night. Him and his partner were just about to leave when suddenly a stunning cutie ran up and kissed Michael square on the lips. "Thank you, sailor. You strong, break up the fight. I'm Leticia, what your name?"

At a loss for words Michael told her his name was Martin. It was the first thing that came into his mind, not really wanting to tell her his real name. She was just what he had been looking for all night. She was cute as hell, long black hair down to her waist, deep brown eyes, and a killer body. She gave Michael a long hug, and looked up at him with those eyes and he melted right there on the spot.

"You come back for me tomorrow night. You pay my bar fine?"

"Oh hell yeah, you know it." Michael was hooked. "I'll be here around six."

So much for Michael behaving himself. What the hell, he was a sailor, and in the Philippines.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. They walked their beat and made it back to the ship around two in the morning.

Chapter Twenty Eight

The next morning reveille came early for Michael. He was tired but excited about the three days off he had. He planned to make the best of his liberty, mainly drinking and maybe sampling a little of the local cuisine, and I'm not talking pancit here or lumpia. Michael couldn't wait to see the girl again he had met at the "Islands Girl Bar." Leticia was her name or Letty for short. He couldn't get his mind off of her. But unfortunately, she didn't come to work until 1800, that's six o'clock in the evening, civilian time.

Duty section muster was over and he was free. His first thought was to get some sleep so he would be ready for the coming nights activities. He climbed into his rack, pulled the covers up over his head and tried his best to go to sleep, but it just wasn't happening. Every time he closed his eyes he could the girl's face, begging him not to go to sleep but stay up and play.

After an hour or so of trying he finally gave up and went in to take a shower. Since they were in port, he could take a "Hollywood" shower without worrying about using too much water. Underway he had to take a "Navy" shower, which meant turning on the water quickly getting wet, soaping up, turning the water back on and rinsing off.

Michael let the hot water run for a long time. It felt good, it relaxed him. Maybe he could go back to his rack and get some sleep. He was coming out of the shower when he ran into a cook buddy of his, George Dunham who had just got off five and two and was heading into the rain locker. "Michael, how's it hanging, big guy? What's up? You fixing to get out there with the honeys?"

"It's still early George, I was thinking about hitting my pit again."

"Fuck that man. This is P.I. man. Non--stop party dude. I'm fixing to head out and do some power drinking man. C'mon with me man, I'll buy you some San Magoos, what you think?"

"Well okay, what the fuck. I can sleep when I'm dead, right."

"That's the spirit. Give me a minute to wash my ass, throw on some threads and we'll head out."

"Okay, tell you what. I'll meet you on the quarterdeck."

"Cool, Bro."

The two supply pukes headed out at nine o'clock in the morning. They crossed "Shit River" bridge and headed into Olongopo City. Jeepneys and Trikes whistled by making their own unique sounds, emitting their own unusual smells. The fragrance of garlic and urine was in the air, along with the excitement and hustle and bustle of everyday Philippine life. People were out on the streets and the sidewalks, selling everything from bootleg cigarettes to knockoff Rolexes and food of all different types.

The sound of live music roared from the clubs, girls wearing short shorts and bikini tops, were already out yelling for men to come inside and see the show. Two girls came out to the side walk and dragged our duo into one of the clubs. It was empty except for two other young girls and an older lady who they called "mamasan."

"You buy ladies drink?" The older woman asked George and Michael.

"Sure," George replied, pulling some pesos out of his front pocket "And give my friend and I a couple of San Miguel's."

Michael and George sat down at a table and the two little honeys came over with their ladies' drinks to join them. "What your name?" the little cute one sitting in Michael's lap asked him.

"Uh, I'm Michael and this is George. What are your names?"

The one sitting in George's lap said her name was Irish and the one in Michael's lap said he could call her Cherry. "You want go, short time?" Cherry asked, rubbing Michael's throbbing crank. "Maybe you want to go long time."

The girl sitting on George's lap also stroking his cock was asking the same sort of questions.

"Right now, we're just trying to drink some beer, still kinda early. You girls are beautiful and all, but we just want to drink some beer right now," Michael said hoping he didn't sound too mean.

The morning melted into afternoon and then into early evening as the duo threw down beers like they were water. Outside dark angry clouds threatened a torrential downpour, but Michael and George didn't care, they still had beer to drink. All of sudden Michael looked at his watch. "Damn it, it's fucking 1800. I've got to meet that girl at the "Island Girl's Bar."

"She got a friend," George asked laughing and leering.

"Very funny, let's go. C'mon. I really like this girl, man."

They got to the bar around 1830. The place was almost empty. Michael looked around in horror, "Where is she? Where the hell is she, George?"

"How the hell would I know, let's just get a beer."

They grabbed a table and ordered a couple of cold ones. "Is Leticia here?" Michael asked desperately as the waitress brought them their beers.

Then out of nowhere she was there. "You're drunk. You no good to me drunk, sailor." Letty said pretending she was mad, but really she didn't give a shit. She knew if he was drunk he would spend all his money on her before the night was over. Then she would take him back to his ship with an aching head and empty pockets.

George met him a girl, which was no big surprise, and after a little while paid her bar fine and the two of them left the bar, heading somewhere, George staggering, his date struggling to hold him upright.

"Why you drink so much, Martin? Letty said, but knew he was a sailor on liberty and that's just what they did.

"Michael. My name is Michael."

"Not Martin, why you lie?"

"I don't know, I'm married and for some reason I didn't want to tell you my real name. But now, I don't give a shit."

"Now you drunk, you don't give a shit, huh?"

"Yeah, something like that. You got a hotel or a place nearby, I'll pay your bar fine, long time."

Just so happened Letty had her own place she shared with two other girls a block away from the bar. They staggered out and before Michael knew it he woke up naked in the bed with the girl cuddled up next to him. He had brought two condoms to use but unfortunately had forgotten about using them, in fact he didn't even remember leaving the club, much less having sex with a beautiful girl, what a shame.

Figuring if she had some disease he already had it, Michael went in for round two, and before the night was over round three and four. He felt like he was a teenager again. He hadn't had sex like that in years, probably never.

Michael slept peacefully that night, hugging Letticia like she was a teddy bear, and awoke around ten the next morning with a throbbing head. Little did he know that a storm was brewing back home, something that would change his life forever.

Chapter Twenty Nine

A tube was stuck down Curtis Parson's throat, a monitor beeped, his wife Paula, and his daughter Connie, sat almost comatose in a grief stricken state as they watched him take his last breaths. They had tried to contact Michael, but he was now in the Navy and out to sea. He had wrote to them, told them he was in the navy and how to get in touch with him and his wife in the event of an emergency. It was as much their fault as his that they had not kept in touch. Silly pride and years of prejudice had kept a father's only son from being with him in his final moments.

Michael had a wife and a child, they didn't even know her, and wouldn't allow her and the child to even darken their door. She was black, and to them she might as well have been from another planet. They would not accept her, and now because of their stubbornness, Curtis was going to die without seeing his son one last time.

Gasping for air, his eyes filled with pure terror and fear of dying, Curtis Parsons took his last breath. He was gone, his heart monitor flat lined, there was a momentary silence followed by crying and loud sobs that filled the room with sadness. They grabbed him, as if in an attempt to stop him from going, but it was his time. His time to meet his maker. Maybe he could explain to the All Mighty, why he had shut his daughter-in-law, and his grand child out of his life simply because of the color of their skin

A red cross message was sent to Michael's ship. A message that he had dreaded getting for years. He knew his dad was in failing health. Curtis had been on kidney dialysis for seven years. Every time they called him in the office to talk to him unexpectedly, in the back of his mind he feared it was about his dad. Now, the call had regrettably came and he was on liberty, in bed with a honey, and no one on his ship, including his friend George the cook knew where he was.

"The last time I saw dude, he was hugged up with a little honey at the Island Girl's Bar, in the Barrio. But hell, that was yesterday. Where the fuck he's at now, is anybody's guess. You could go to the bar and see if they know where ole girl lives. That's probably where he is. It's not like they have telephones out there, you know? He said the girl's name was Leticia."

So that's what they did. A search party went out to the Barrio to the bar and inquired about Michael. They described him and said he was with a girl by the name of Leticia, and they needed to talk to him in the worst kind of way.

When the XO and his Supply Officer knocked on the door, Michael was just coming out of the shower. If you call standing in a stall and having a girl poor ice cold water on you a shower. Leticia answered the door, and quickly let them in. "Michael. Michael! There are some navy men to see you."

His heart sank, because he knew why they were there. It could only be one reason. He fell to one knee and began to cry.

"Michael, I'm sorry. We have some bad news," the XO said as he patted Michael on his shoulder. "We got a red cross message. Your father has passed away. We need to get you back to the ship and to the airport as quickly as possible.

Chapter Thirty

The flight home was the longest sixteen hours of Michael's life. Luckily he had a window seat so he could stare into the great blue skies, into the Heavens and imagine his dad there. He was in a better place, free from the sickness that had afflicted his frail body for so many years. A stewardess stopped by and asked if Michael wanted to order something for dinner, he said no, he wasn't hungry.

Day turned into night and Michael's thoughts grew darker along with the night skies. He realized then how much he had loved his father and how much he was going to miss having him in his life. All the years he had wasted, not speaking, shutting him out of his life, he wished he could get back, but knew they were gone forever. His stubbornness had deprived him of spending those all so precious, irretrievable moments with his dad when he left this world. He was with some whore instead of being with his family in their time of need. He should have been a bigger man and convinced them of how much he loved his family and that just because his wife was black didn't mean she wasn't a truly great person. Instead he refused to speak to his father and his dad returned the favor by shutting him out of his life as well.

Welcome sleep finally overtook him, but it was a restless sleep. Michael dreamed about when he was little, and his dad teaching him how to ride his first bike, playing catch with him and taking him to work with him on his telephone truck. He dreamed about his dad's pipe and the wonderful fragrance that would fill the room when he smoked it. Michael would remember that smell for the rest of his life and forever associate it with those good times that they shared when he was a child.

The plane finally touched down at Memphis International Airport. It was a rainy day, adding to the dreariness that already had darkened his mood. Home was nothing now that his dad was gone. He just felt like an empty shell. There was a hollow hole where his heart used to be. His legs felt shaky, his body was weak from the long flight and lack of food.

"Hold your head up Michael. Don't let 'em see you cry. You're the man of the family now, you've got to be strong." He whispered to himself as he left the confines of the jet airplane that day and made the long trip through the tunnel, knowing his family would be on the other side, waiting to see him, and be with him.

He expected to see only his mom and his sister Connie. He would call later and reunite with Jennifer and little Desmond. Tipping through the door into the terminal, a big surprise was waiting for a weary traveler, a sight he thought he would never live long enough to see. Waiting for him, like a real family was not only his mom and his sister, but his wife and little boy as well.

They rushed to him and covered him with hugs and kisses, and drenched him with tears of joy and sadness. The sight of seeing his whole family together was overwhelming and Michael broke down right there in front of everyone in the crowded airport, but he didn't care, he was home and even though his dad was gone, his family was at last wholy united, the way it should be.

Michael gave Jennifer a big hug and kiss and picked up little Desmond who wasn't quite so little anymore. "My little man. God, he's gotten so big. I think he sorta looks like dad." Wondering should he even mention his father, but thinking everyone would be all right with his statement.

His mom, Paula chimed in, "I was saying just that very same thing earlier today."

"That's right Paula did say little Desmond looked like your dad. I wished I could have known him." Jennifer felt suddenly embarrassed. "But, he's...

"We know what you mean, sweetheart. We were all so bull headed. But that's all gonna change. Let's go home. I made all your favorites. Well Jennifer and I made them," Paula said, pointing the way to the exit.

This was the start of a new family life for Michael. Things were going to be better. It was just a shame his dad wouldn't be around to see it. But somehow Michael thought he would see the new beginning, looking down on them from Heaven.

Chapter Thirty One

The sky was cloudy and threatening rain as the hearse pulled slowly up to the burial plot. There were almost a hundred cars with their lights on following behind the lead limo carrying the body of the late and well-loved Curtis W. Parsons. It stopped, and the final farewell ceremoniously began. The pall bearers dressed appropriately in black, gently removed the precious casket from the back and carried it to his final resting place, placing it in the orifice that would take his body into the ground, where he would find everlasting peace.

Michael fought back the tears but there was no use. His grief was overpowering. Jennifer held his shaking, trembling body, as the minister said the words of final farewell he had dreaded hearing for so many years. A woman with a beautiful soprano voice sang his dad's favorite spiritual number, "Keep Your Eye on the Sparrow." It was the perfect song to send a man to the great beyond and the perfect song for those who sorrowfully mourned that individuals' lost to the world and his family.

Back at the Parsons' house Michael looked at all the food that had been thoughtfully brought by well-wishers. Fried chicken, ham, potato salad, pies and cakes jammed the dining room table to overflowing. As hungry as he was he couldn't eat a bite. His stomach felt like he had swallowed a basketball. People passed by and smiled, but all Michael wanted to do was cry. He never thought he could ever feel this bad. A sadness so deep gripped him, he feared he may fall on the floor in front of all the people who graciously came to pay their respects to his father.

"How can I go on?" Michael thought to himself. A tear trickled down his face. He turned away ashamed to let anyone see him cry. He had been brought up to believe that a man never cried. "Crying is for little boys. A man never cries." His dad used to always say. "You've got to be strong. A man can't ever show weakness." Michael felt weak and vulnerable and lost. He left the room and went outdoors to get some fresh air.

From out of nowhere, Jennifer had found him and with her love brought his lost soul back into the world of the living. "Michael, it's going to be okay. You are a strong man, a good man, just like your father. It is time for you to lead the family into the future. You are the one now."

Michael swallowed a mouthful of tears that felt as large as a baseball, trying to speak but momentarily unable.

Jennifer just held him. She knew in a while he would be able to put his abject sadness into words.

"I don't know if I can do it, Jennifer. It's just too hard."

"You can do it, Michael. Come on, let's go home. Paula said she would keep Desmond tonight so we could be alone. I love you Michael, never forget that. As long as I live, no matter what you do, no matter where you go, I will love you."

"I love you too, baby. Let's go home."

Chapter Thirty two

One night was all they had together. One night to share their love. But Jennifer and Michael were determined to make the most of it. The apartment was inordinately quiet as they eased open the front door to their modest little place. Michael carried her over the threshold like they were newlyweds on their honeymoon. They felt like a newly married couple, their love had never been stronger, nor had their desire to have passionate sex until they lie in each other's arms exhausted.

Jennifer opened a bottle of expensive wine she had been saving for a special occasion. The cork popped out and the scent of the red bubbly wine permeated the air with its delightful fragrance. She took two wine glasses out of the cabinet and filled them with the sparling beverage. "To us, and many more years of happiness," Jennifer toasted, raising her glass.

"To us, and our family. And to long life and good fortune .And a whole house full of children." Michael raised his glass as well and they clinked them together and drank.

Michael gave Jennifer a kiss tenderly on the lips. She kissed him back even more passionately. They drank another glass of wine. In fact they drank the whole bottle of wine.

Feeling the effect of the wine, Michael lifted Jennifer up and carried her to their bed. She loved how strong and fit Michael felt now. The navy had really firmed him up and Jennifer found his new hard body terribly sexy.

Clothes lay everywhere on the bedroom floor as they found each other's passion. Their naked bodies entwined with a red hot fire they had never felt before. Their kisses burned as their hands caressed every square inch of their wanton bodies. They made love all night until they could make love no more and then they fell blissfully and thankfully asleep in each other's arms. They dreamed sweet dreams of their future together and a love that would live forever.

A stream of morning sunlight slivered through the blinds into the lover's bedroom window. Jennifer covered her face, not wanting to see the morning light, knowing what the advent of sunrise meant. It meant Michael would be leaving again and soon.

Michael was still sound asleep not awaken by the small glint of light. Jennifer thought he looked like a small innocent child as he slept peacefully. She wanted to wake him to make love one more time but decided just to hold him instead, knowing he needed his rest. He had a long flight ahead.

Thinking of what her life was going to be like and the challenges ahead, she held Michael like a little child. She said a silent prayer and then said out loud. "Everything is going to be all right. I just know it."

With these words Michael suddenly awoke. He smiled at his beautiful wife, and hugged her even harder than she was already embracing him. "Good morning babe. Sleep well? I slept like a baby. Well at least like a baby that's not up all night crying."

"I was just thinking. We should have another child. Desmond needs a little brother or sister. He shouldn't be an only child."

"Well I think we made a good start on that baby last night. But if that wasn't good enough, there's always this morning."

They made love again until it was time for Michael to take a shower and start getting ready for his long journey back to the ship.

Michael's flight was at two in the afternoon. Jennifer dropped him off around one. After a tearful goodbye, he boarded his flight. He felt great sadness leaving his family, but felt encouraged that his life was going to somehow be different. He never felt as much like a man as he did that day. It felt good.

His flight was uneventful, restful, even peaceful, which was exactly what Michael needed. He had time to reflect on his past life, the loss of his father and the future that lie ahead for him and his family.

Landing at Singapore Airport, Michael collected his bags and caught a cab to Sembawang base, where the Stark was docked. He felt somehow strange going back to his ship, even though he had only been gone a few days. He would fall back into the groove soon enough. It was time to get back to work and get on with his life as a sailor.

Chapter Thirty Three

Jennifer found out she was pregnant a month or so after Michael returned to his ship. She knew that morning, when they had made love for the last time before he left that a child would be conceived. She hadn't told Michael yet; she was waiting for the right time and place to break the big news.

San Diego was now the Parson's new home. While Michael was deployed Jennifer had sold all their furniture, her old car, and flew to San Diego, her and little Desmond. She had decided she would make a new start, in a new city, just the baby, her and Michael. He would be coming home from deployment soon and then she would break the news about the new baby. She had written Michael about their new apartment, it wasn't much but it was a start.

Michael had made third class petty officer, so there was a little more money coming in, plus she had managed to land a nice position at a nearby bank. Things were looking up. She even found an inexpensive day care center for little Desmond in the neighborhood. She couldn't wait for her husband to come home.

At long last the USS Stark was home from deployment. Jennifer and Desmond were on the pier with the rest of the wives, children, and various and sundry other relatives and friends of the crew members. The excitement in the air was contagious, as the crowd waited for the Frigate to dock and its crew members to flood down the brow into the arms of their respective loved ones.

The wait seemed like hours to Jennifer. But finally the ship was moored to the pier and she could see Michael hanging over the rail, holding a bouquet of flowers and yelling at her at the top of his lungs. He looked so handsome in his dress blues. She was so proud of Michael and couldn't wait to tell him about the new bundle of joy that would be coming to their new household in a few months.

"Jennifer, God it's so good to see you," Michael cried as he came running down the brow into the waiting arms of his family. He hugged her and Desmond until he felt the strength leaving his arms and finally let them go. "Look at my little boy. He's gotten so big."

"Ready to see your new home?" Jennifer asked apprehensively. "I hope you like it. It's not much but it's a start."

"If you and Desmond are there, any place is all right with me, baby."

Such began the family's new life together in sunny San Diego. Michael would be home pretty much for the next year and a half before his ship was due to deploy again. He was so happy to be home with his family and to be able to spend time with them. He was thrilled about the arrival of the new baby, as well.

The new baby was born six months later, a girl. They named her Veronica, and she was just as beautiful as her mother. Michael thought he couldn't love anything or anyone as much as he did his wife and his little boy, but he loved his little girl most of all and she loved her daddy.

Life was good for the Parsons. Jennifer got promoted to head teller at the bank and Michael made second class petty officer. They rented a larger house in a nice neighborhood and Michael bought himself a late model Caddy like the one he had wrecked.

Onboard the Stark life was routine. After a three month overhaul or yard period, the ship went out for routine training, but only for a few days at a time. Most of the time the ship was in port and Michael was at home if he didn't have the duty. He was really enjoying his time in the Navy and had decided to make a career of it. Jennifer agreed, she liked being a Navy wife. Shopping at the commissary and the exchange and enjoying the medical and dental benefits for her and her family as well, was a good thing.

So that's the way their life went for a couple of years, routine, comfortable, it seemed like it would go on that way forever. But, such was not the case.

Chapter Thirty Four

There was a whole lot of trouble brewing in the Persian Gulf in the mid-eighties; of course the U.S. Navy played a major role in securing that stretch of water for freedom of navigation through the Straits of Hormuz. The oil must go through, it was vital to the United States and to the world. The Iranians were acting up again, along with some of the other countries in the region. The whole gulf had been mined by the Iranians and Kaddafi in Lebanon was giving President Regan a hard time, and being a cowboy, he wasn't going put up with it. So he bombed his palaces, just missing the Colonel, but killing members of his family. The tone was right for tragedy. It was just a matter of time.

Still safe at home, the Stark was doing workups getting ready for another deployment. There were lots of drills and underway time, but Michael was all right with it, he wanted to go to the Gulf, for some reason yearning for a little excitement after all the years of being a sailor.

Jennifer wasn't too crazy about Michael going to a war zone, but she knew it was a part of the job. She prayed at night when her husband was on duty and the children were asleep that the Lord would see him there safely and return him to her unharmed. The days and nights melted away and before she knew it, it was time for Michael to leave once again. A strange foreboding came over her for some unexplained reason.

"Baby, I'm afraid," she told Michael the night before he was to leave as they lie safe and warm in each other's arms.

"Afraid? What are you talking about Jennifer? It's just a routine deployment, no big deal."

"I don't know. I just have a bad feeling. I can't explain it," she said, holding on to her husband tightly in the night.

"Don't worry baby. Nothing's going to happen to me. It's safe on the ship. Do you know how long it's been since a U.S. Navy ship sank? World War II. I'm safer on the ship than I am right here at home. I swear, nothing bad is going to happen."

"Okay, I believe you," she said, but she didn't, and no amount of convincing was going to change her mind. "I will pray for you and your shipmates."

The next morning the USS Stark was underway for another deployment, the crew stood in ranks in dress blues, manning the rails as the ship crossed under the Coronado Bridge and headed out to sea. No one could have known the fate that lie ahead for their ill-fated vessel.

Chapter Thirty Five

After a month of boredom, highlighted by a few in port days, the Stark reached the Persian Gulf to begin their routine patrol. The tensions between Iraq and the U.S. had grown even though the consensus was they were our friend and Iran was the real enemy. This would soon prove to be a misconception.

The Stark was in the gulf escorting merchant ships up and down the Gulf and assisting in the identification and removal of the numerous mines the Iranians had laid in the murky waters over the past couple of years.

It was a calm clear night, May 17, 1987, the ship cut smoothly through the water unaware of what was headed their way. All bridge, engineering and CIC watches were in place, doing the job they did every night out to sea. Michael was on the mess deck, staring at a stack of soda cases he had just hauled from the storeroom, talking to a couple of other sailors who were chilling after a hard day. He wasn't in any hurry to stock up the machine. It wasn't like he had some place to go.

On the bridge wing the lookout peered through his binoculars at an empty horizon. Captain Brindel sat in the Captain's chair on the bridge, it was a routine night.

A few miles away at 10,000 feet an E-3A aircraft carrying the AWACS system, or Aircraft Warning and Control System, sited a Iraqi Mirage F-1 fighter taking off from the Shaibah military airport. One of the pilots passed the contact over the data link. "All Naval ships in section alpha one, this is Rainbow. We have an unknown contact, track # 4127 departing Shaibah Airport heading south, squawking mode two. Airborne at time 1950. Be advised, not a contact of interest at this time, will advise if any change. Rainbow out."

The TAO in combat on the Stark rogered the message.

The Captain sat in his chair glancing over some paper work, looking up periodically to stare aimlessly into the night sea. Suddenly the bitch box growled. "Captain."

"Captain, this is the TAO. We got a contact squawking mode two, heading south from Shaibah. Not a contact of interest at this point. I'll keep you informed of any change."

"Roger, that," the Captain said, and then replaced the receiver back in the cradle. He went back to his paperwork and his aimless staring into the darkness.

Inside the E-3A, the pilots saw the Mirage fighter jet make a turn on their radar screen. They didn't make a report to any ships in the area that the jet had turned. In fact the fighter jet had turned towards the Stark.

Back on the Stark, Michael was still chilling on the mess deck and still eyeballing the stack of sodas. "I guess I better get started on these sodas before SH1 comes around. You guys wouldn't want to give me a hand would you?" His two buds decided it was time to leave if there was work to be done. "I guess not, huh?" Michael said laughing as they disappeared around the corner. He opened up the machine and starting loading the sodas, unaware of activity miles away that would affect the rest of his life.

The Mirage fighter jet fired an Exocet missile, it blasted out of the plane's tubes, like a tremendous fireball, emitting a loud wooshing sound. The jet fired yet a second missile and turned hard north disappearing into a cloud bank, its murderous mission complete.

The seaman on watch on the the bridge wing spotted the first missile inbound. He yelled over his sound powered phones, "Missile inbound, port side. I say again, missile inbound, port side."

The JOOD ran into the bridge and nervously yelled to the BMOW, "Sound general quarters. Missile inbound, port side."

The BMOW looked at the officer of deck bewildered, staring at him blankly, frozen with the 1MC microphone in his trembling hand.

"God damnit,man. Sound general quarters for Christ sake. Missile inbound, port side.

"General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations. Reason for general quarters, missile inbound, port side. All hands brace...

His words were cut short as the first Exocet struck the ship on the port side just below the bridge wing ripping a giant hole ship at frame 110.

The JOOD spotted the second missile, but before any announcement could be made it ripped another hole in the side of the ship near where the first one had struck. It exploded inside the skin of the ship, smoke filled the passageways, as shrapnel from the ship's skin and the missile casing flew everywhere creating havoc and destruction for any sailors unfortunate enough to be in its path. A huge fireball rolled down the passageway and flashed over.

Sea water from the murky depths of the Gulf flooded in a giant hole on the port side of the vessel. The situation was desperate for the ship and its sailors if they didn't stop the fire and flooding and quickly. The USS Stark was in real trouble. All the training the crew had undergone was going to be needed and more to save the ship that terrible night.

In crew complex II the situation was particularly grim. Sailors, many badly burned and injured from the missile blast were attempting to exit the space. The dead and dying lie everywhere on the deck of the space, screams of anguish and desperation filled the air and everywhere was the fear; the ship was going down and quickly.

Five sailors jumped out of the jagged hole that had ripped in the Stark's hull by the Exocet and plunged into the dark murky waters, later rescued by a RHIB from another navy war ship in the area answering their distress call.

Michael had been heading forward to get some more cases of soda for his machine when the missiles had struck. Before he knew what was happening a fireball was roaring down the passageway towards him and he was running for his life.

He woke up in a hospital in Bahrain. It seemed like a nightmare, but it was real, a terrible dream Michael never really woke up from, one that haunted his every waking hour

Chapter Thirty Six

His injuries were extensive, both mental and physical. His face was badly burned, his left hand was severed at the wrist and his right leg below his knee had to be amputated. Recovery was hell for Michael, even though Jennifer was always by his side; he gave up on himself and felt he had nothing to live for.

Two years went by and the demons and his addictions grew worst. He was hooked on pain medication and of course alcohol, the demon he had faced before the whole terrible tragedy had even happened.

All of Jennifer's prayers for Michael went unanswered. Why had God forsaken them in their time of need? But Jennifer never gave up on Michael even though he had given up on himself.

Jennifer was downstairs making dinner when the whole terrible scene unfolded. Michael had been really depressed of late; she was at the end of her rope as what to do with him. He had been drinking excessively for several days, something was going to give, and soon. She heard the shot from upstairs. It seemed so unreal, and at first she didn't realize what it was. "Michael!" she screamed as she ran upstairs, afraid of what she might see when she reached their bedroom... There on the floor was Michael, lying in a pool of blood, his .45 pistol still smoking, next to his lifeless body. "Oh, sweet Jesus. No!" She cried as she fell on the floor next to Michael.

She checked for a pulse.and signs of life. He was still breathing and he still had a pulse, although faint. Jennifer made it to the night stand and grabbed the phone,

***

"Mrs. Parsons?" An emergency room surgeon inquired of a bleary eyed Jennifer, as she rose with anticipation, bracing herself for bad news.

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Parsons." Jennifer hadn't been so frightened since little Desmond was in a coma. She didn't know if she could go on if Michael was dead.

The surgeon grabbed Jennifer by her hands to comfort and calm her. "Your husband was lucky. The bullet was a through and through. It didn't do any major damage, just bled like hell. I guess your husband was so nervous that he missed the mark. Maybe he changed his mind at the last second, it happens, thank God. He's going to make a full recovery. You can see him now. If you like. He's gonna need a lot of love and hours of therapy. But he can make it if he really wants to. But if he doesn't, he'll be right back here or maybe he might not miss next time."

Jennifer looked at the surgeon and was at a loss for words for a minute. She knew what he was saying was true. She just didn't know if they could go on. "Yes, I'd like to see him." Silently she followed the doctor into the room where Michael lie, not knowing what to say to him. She'd already said all she knew to say. Michael had to change. He had to want to live.

He looked so weak and frail lying in his hospital bed. Jennifer fell on the floor next to her husband and buried her face in his lap, sobbing loudly. "Michael, I love you. I love you so much. Why do yo hate yourself so much. Why?" She cried uncontrollably.

Michael woke up suddenly. He stroked her hair, starting to cry himself. "Don't cry baby. I never meant to hurt you and the kids. I'm just weak, so weak. I wanted to stop the pain. I thought only of my self. I can change. I'm gonna change, I love you and the kids so much. Please forgive me."

He wanted to change but how? Michael had prayed until he was an empty shell with nothing left and no matter how he tried, he still couldn't find any reason to live. His beautiful wife and his children should have been reason enough, but they weren't. He needed a reason within himself, a hope, a dream, something that was his and his alone. But what? Michael didn't know.

And then an epiphany came to him the very next day as he lie in his hospital bed watching TV and feeling sorry for himself as usual. On the screen was something that inspired him so much he was brought to tears by the courage of the participants. The sheer will, physical and mental strength, the desire to succeed at something that was so difficult as to be almost unattainable but to the very few. It was the "Iron Man" competition held annually in Oahu, Hawaii.

Why Michael was mesmerized by the event he couldn't understand. It was more than a mere sporting event, it was a battle of will and human perseverance. " I wish I had the courage to do something like that." He said out loud. He shook his head feeling weak from the thought of such a thing. "No, I could do it! I will do it!" He shouted and shook his fists in the air. Suddenly he felt alive and powerful, in control of his own destiny. He knew he had found a reason to live as crazy as it sounded. He would do the Iron Man Triathlon the next year. How he didn't know, but he would find a way.

Chapter Thirty Seven

Michael prayed for courage to a God he thought had forsaken him and would never forive him for attempting to take his own life. He knew it was a mortal sin to commit suicide, but he never gave it a single thought when the cold steel of his .45 was pressed up against his temple. He thought only of himself and breaking free of the burden he had carried for what seemed to be his whole life, although it was in fact only two years since he had been injured in the missile attack.

Jennifer came in unexpectedly and was shocked to see her husband on one knee bowed in prayer. It was unusual but certainly a good sign she thought. Without a word she bent down next to him and draped her arm around his shoulder in a gesture of support. Tears streamed down Michael's face and he began to shake. "Michael, are you all right baby?"

Wiping away he tears he gave his wife a tender kiss on her cheek. "I've never been better, I feel like a new man, like I can conquer the world."

"But why were you crying? Jennifer helped her husband wipe his face.

"Oh that. Those were tears of joy. I've finally found that reason to live I was looking for. I know I have you and the kids and I love you more than the whole world, but somehow it just wasn't enough."

"Michael, what are you talking about? You're not making sense, please tell me."

"You're not going to believe it. I can hardly believe it myself, but just the thought of it sends shivers up my spine. I get so excited, I want to cry. The power I now feel because of it, it's immense, it's electrifying."

"Michael, please tell me. It sounds like you're losing your mind."

"Yesterday, I was watching T.V. and a life changing event came on, quite unexpectedly."

"Go on Michael!"

The Iron Man Triathlon, in Hawaii. I'm gonna do it next year. Isn't that great. I can't wait to get started. I'm so excited. I don't know how I'm gonna do it, but I'm gonna do it."

"The Iron Man Triathlon? What is that Michael?"

"Only the biggest race ever. If you can complete it, you can do anything. It's a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bicycle ride, followed by a 26.2 mile run in that order without a break."

Jennifer smiled and shook her head, "Baby, that's sounds exciting, but be realistic. You can't do even one of those things, much less all three. Get back in bed. I think you need some rest."

"Rest! I've rested too long. I'm gonna do it Jennifer. I don't know how, but with the help of God and your support, I'm going to finish the race. And when I do, I will know I can do anything. I've gotta to do it."

Michael did go back to bed and had sweet dreams of crossing the finish line, the crowd cheering, all his family and friends there to greet him in his triumphful moment. The next morning he would begin his journey. A wise old Chinaman once said, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step," or words to that affect Michael thought. Tomorrow he would take that first step.

Chapter Thirty Eight

It was a beautiful sunny day when Michael woke up the next morning. Jennifer had gone to work and had taken the kids to school. The first thing he thought of was the Iron Man competition he had dreamed about the night before. He pulled back the cover with his stump where his hand once was and looked at his deformed leg that had caused him so much misery over the past two years. Looking at his arm he said," You'll be first on the agenda, and then I'll get to the leg. The swim is first so I need a fin or something to attach on my arm so I can glide through the water more easily. But what? I'm no inventor, but I bet I can find somebody. Down at the VA, they got guys that know how to do anything. The bicycle part won't be that hard, just rig up something to my leg, an extension or something so I can peddle."

Michael was getting exhausted just thinking about the undertaking that lie ahead of him, but on the other hand he was so excited about the event he couldn't it out of his mnd. "Then comes the real test, the marathon, 26.2 miles. I never ran like that when I had two good legs. Well, that's all going to change. That's another project I got to find somebody to work on for me. I bet they have some pretty good prosthetics down at the hospital. But I need a special one that I can run in. Maybe something with a spring of some sort. Yeah, that's what I need." Michael fell back to sleep and when he woke he went right back to planning for the race.

Later Jennifer and the kids would be home, he couldn't wait to tell them about how he was going to be an "Iron Man." He knew they would patronize him and smile and say, "you can do it," but they wouldn't really mean it, instead still visualizing him as a helpless cripple, not even a man. This thought made him even more determined to do it. He must regain his self-respect in the eyes of his family.

He fell back to sleep and when he awoke Jennifer was sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing her hand through his hair. She still loved him very much, even though he had put her and the kids through hell. "Hi baby," she said giving him a tennder kiss on the cheek. "What you been doing all day? Sleeping?"

"Yes, and dreaming and planning on how I'm going to do this Iron Man thing, you know. I'm gonna do it."

"So you keep telling me. But I don't think no Iron Men get ready for a big race lying in bed all day."

"You know, you're right. I've got to start getting into shape. I can go to the pool on base and they have stationary bikes in the gym I can ride too. The run part, that's a different story."

She gave Michael another kiss on the cheek. "I believe in you Michael and I love you very much."

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Can you take me to the gym?"

"Are you sure you're ready to try this baby?"

"I'm ready, willing and able, ma'am." Michael saluted his wife with his good hand.

The next morning Michael woke up with an excitement only surpassed by Christmas to a small child. He was so ready to get started. Jennifer was already up and dressed, cooking breakfast. The smell of bacon and fresh brewed coffee filled the air adding to Michael's already excited mood.

Grabbing his crutches, he drug himself out of the bed with a grunt. "Damn, I sure don't feel much like an iron man this morning. More like a mush man. But that's all going to change, starting today." He stripped off his shorts and t-shirt and made his way to the shower. It was especially equipped for handicapped person, something Michael always detested. He warmed up the water and stepped in. The warm water was invigorating; he let it run over his body like a healing flood, cleansing all his weaknesses. He began to sing. It was going to be a great day. The first day of the rest of his newly found life. He had a second chance, he wasn't going to blow it this time.

"Good morning Mr. Iron Man," Jennifer beamed as her husband made it into the kitchen and plopped down in his favorite chair. She gave him a tender kiss on his cheeks. "I've got a hearty breakfast for you this morning, all your favorites, bacon, sausage, eggs and pancakes."

Wow, that's sounds good babe. But just for today. I've got to go on a diet," he said rubbing his stomach that was more like a twelve than a six pack.

"Okay, starting tomorrow it's nothing but grapefruits and salads."

"Well let's not get too extreme, but I do need to lose some weight. What you think babe, maybe thirty pounds?"\

Michael did finally make it to the base gym. He felt very self-conscious around all the young healthy people. But his determination would win out. He would not let his shame and pity for himself dissuade him from his dream.

First he would try the exercise bike. It would be difficult to ride with only one leg, but not impossible. It turned out to be more difficult than Michael could have imagined. He fought and fought with the pedals, trying in vain. To make the wheels spin He wanted to cry and give up, but his determination kept him on that stationary bike all day. Finally after several hours and a butt that had long been asleep from sitting on a bicycle seat, he was able to spin the wheels.

He knew from that day's experience, he needed a prosthetic to attach to his stump of a leg and an attachment that would fasten to the peddle. It seemed simple to him, having a moment of clarity.

He had done enough for the day. The swim would be his next obstacle. The next day it was on to the pool. He had the same difficulty in the pool as on the bike. He couldn't do anything but float with his stump of a arm and leg. But he was not discouraged. He knew he couldn't do the all-important run without an artificial limb. He must find someone who could build everything he needed. Without the hardware, he didn't stand a chance.

Chapter Thirty Nine

The next morning he told his wife Jennifer about his difficulties. He hoped she would be supportive and not say he should throw in the towel and give up. "I can't do it without the artificial limbs. I tried, it's impossible.'

Jennifer kissed him on his cheek and gave him a big hug. "Nothing is impossible. We've just got to find someone who can build the artificial hardware that you need. What about the VA? Can't they help?"

"I asked them already. They have standard prosthetics, but not the specialized equipment that I need. What am I going to do, Jennifer?"

"We'll find someone. Don't give up baby."

Michael was about to give up when a few days later, out of the blue his prayer was answered. "Mr. Parsons?" A voice on the line inquired.

"Yes," Michael said, wondering who in the hell was calling him at eight o'clock in the morning.

"My name is Timothy Nilan. I think I might be able to help you."

Michael was even more curious now. "Help me with what? What are you talking about?"

"I work closely with vets who are amputees and have special needs. I am working on some experimental prosthetics that I think might just be what you are looking for."

"Oh, sounds good, but I don't have any money. I am permanently disabled."

"Won't cost you a dime, Mr. Parsons. I need someone to try out my new hardware. If you are interested I could see if I could be of service."

"Hell yeah, I'm interested. When can we get started?"

The whole process was long and very painful. Mr. Nilan fitted the hardware Michael needed for very event. For the swim, the first event, he had webbed fins for Michael's arms and leg. The next event, he designed a special prosthetic that would hook to an attachment and secure Michael's leg to the pedal. And lastly and most importantly was the special leg Nilan built, just for the run. It was a super advanced "C" leg, which was not even on the market yet. It was computerized and would enable Michael to run on it, similar to a real leg.

The process took weeks to complete, but finally everything was done. Now came the real challenge, actually learning how to use all these new gadgets and of course getting into the kind of shape Michael would need to be in to complete the race. That's all he wanted to do, just to finish. If he could do that, he could do anything.

Michael felt like Rocky Balboa getting ready for the big fight with Apollo Creed. Every day he was in the pool, the ocean, running at the track and peddling his bicycle around the neighborhood. He was getting stronger and stronger as the months passed. He even amazed himself as well as Jennifer with his progress.

The big day, Feb. 18th, finally arrived. It was a beautiful day for a race. Michael had brought Jennifer and the kids to Hawaii for the big day. He only hoped he wouldn't fail them. Would he have the courage to finish, was all he wanted. The course had a time limit of 17 hours before it would be shut down. That also worried Michael.

It was time for the race to begin. The Parsons' family had all gathered around and said a prayer. It was in God's hands now. This race was more than just swimming, bicycling and running to Michael, it was about his life and how he would live it from that day forward.

The first event was the swim. Michael had his fin attachments hooked up, looking like a weird fish or a creature of some sort. People looked at him curiously but he was focused on the race and didn't notice them. The gun sounded and he was in the water, swimming. The water was warm and soothing, the sun was bright. It was going to be a great day.

He struggled against the surf as the current pounded him. His progress was slow, but steady. He swam, and swam for what seemed like days. At one point he didn't think he was going to make it. "Please, God, give me strength." He silently prayed. All he could think of was disappointing Jennifer and the kids. He was not going to let that happen. He was determined to persevere. He stroked and stroked and finally the end was in site. Almost drained, wondering could he go on, he drug himself out of the surf.

Now it was time for the bicycle ride. With the help of a teammate, he managed to strap on his bicycle riding leg, get hooked up to the pedal and he was off. It felt good to be out of the water, but the burn in his legs soon brought him back to the reality of the 112 miles he had to ride. He groaned to himself, but peddled onward. The sun blazed down on Michael, he was oblivious to its heat, he peddled and peddled, mile after mile. Just when he thought he couldn't go on, he thought of his family and what the race meant to him. He had to finish. After hours with a bicycle seat stuck painfully up his ass, he finished

Now it was time for the part Michael dreaded the most, the marathon. 26.2 miles of shear agony lie ahead for him. His confidence was almost gone, along with his strength. If he was to finish, it would be on guts and guts alone. With his special "C" leg strapped on, he started the run. He was determined to finish or die trying. This race was his life. Without it, he wasn't sure if he could go on.

He took the first few strides. His legs burned and ached so bad, he thought he would die. "You can do this Michael. You can do it," he yelled to himself. He ran for his life. He had long since hit the "wall" as they call it, but he knocked that wall down and kept on running. He ran and ran, mile after mile. What kept him on his feet, Michael didn't know or couldn't understand. Maybe God himself had taken a personal interest in Michael and was not going to let him fail. Whatever it was, he ran over, through the miles. A strange euphoria overcame him. It seemed to Michael he was no longer in his own body. All the pain he had felt disappeared. He was going to make it.

He looked at his stop watch, and with a shock he noticed he only had fifteen minutes to go before they closed the course. Fifteen minutes and two long, grueling miles were left to go. He had come to far to fail now. The crowds had thinned but still people lined the streets cheering him on.

Michael ran like he had wings, like he floated in air.

Ten minutes to go. Five minutes, and Michael could see the finish line. He was going to make it. He had to make it.

He broke crossed the finish line with one minute remaining and collapsed on the ground, unconscious. When he woke, Jennifer was there and the kids. He had triumphed, he had beat the odds. He could do anything. He was an Iron Man.

Epilogue

Michael's whole life turned around after that great day. He felt he could do anything. He wanted to share his new found beginning with the world. He wanted to help other vets who had lost limbs to gain renewed self-respect and a new life.

The VA hired him to tour and make motivational speeches to vets around the world. This was not the end of this old sailor's story, but a new beginning.

