P Deutermann - Darkside

“And he’s only had all fucking day to get his shit together,” Jim said as he eased the pickup out of its parking place without removing anyone’s mirrors. “Damn it!”

Ev took a cup of coffee and a bottle of scotch out to the dock, where there was a small picnic table and two benches. He turned on the small spots at the water end of the boathouse to attract the bugs and settled down to absorb the darkness. Julie had gone up to her room after an awkward good night at the bottom of the stairs. The night was clear and almost warm, with only a few spring mosquitoes buzzing. In another month, it won’t be possible to come out here at night, he thought. The summer mosquitoes would first rip up the dock planks, take away the table and chairs, and then come back for the humans.

There were other dock lights twinkling across the still black waters of the creek, and at least one unhappy outside dog was trying to wear his owners down with a steady, incessant barking. After the past couple of days he knew he ought to be sleepy, but he wasn’t, and sitting out here was preferable to staring at the ceiling in what had been his and Joanne’s room. He poured some scotch into the coffee and recapped the bottle. He noticed he was drinking more these days, and enjoying it more, too.

His and Joanne’s room. Well, not anymore, and that was one good thing to come out of all this. He’d found a woman to fill that gaping hole in his life, tiny as she was. The fact that she could talk about Joanne and his prior life made it even better, because if she could accept it, then maybe so could he. Liz was in so many ways a sweet woman, but there was some steel in there, too. He wondered how many other lawyers had taken a look at her and made some legally fatal underestimations. He felt a vibration along the planks of the dock.

“Is that scotch?” Julie asked, materializing out of the darkness in the penumbra of the boathouse spots. She was wearing a set of Navy sweats and white socks, and she had an empty glass in her hand.

“Didn’t know you liked scotch,” he said, sliding the bottle toward her as she sat down.

“Have to learn sometime,” she said, pouring a half inch into her glass. “Have to do better with booze than I’ve done so far if I’m going to be a naval aviator.” She sipped some and made a face. “Tastes like medicine,” she muttered.

“In my day, a naval aviator’s breakfast was officially a cigarette, a cup of coffee, and a puke.”

“Now it’s a Coke, a handful of Midol, and a puke, or so I’m told,” she said.

“You don’t have to drink to fly, you know,” he said.

“On the other hand, I may want to,” she replied, looking out over the black water. Something swirled out in the middle of the creek. “Man. It seems like it was just parents’ weekend.”

“Sweating exams?”

“Not really. This semester was a pretty light load. I could bust them all and still have the QPR I need to leave.”

“Well, what’d you think of it? Your four years at the Academy?”

“As in, ‘Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how’d you enjoy the play?’”

Ev laughed and poured them both some more scotch.

“Discounting my Dyle Booth experience,” Julie continued, “it wasn’t bad. In fact, it was pretty good. Solid. Long, maybe, but at least they get you out in four. Most of my high school classmates screwed off their freshman year and now they have another one to go.”

“You think you have a good class?”

“Yes,” she said, trying some more scotch. This time, she didn’t make a face. “Better than those weak-ass babies in O-three. That’s another thing my civilian friends will never have-real classmates.”

He nodded. “Very true. And that’s for life, too, no matter if they stay in or get out. In fact, at my twenty-fifth reunion, the most rah-rah people were all the ones who got out after five years. Apparently, there’s something missing out there in civilian life, too.”

There was another swirl, something fairly big, out in the creek. Tide must be in, he thought. Some big fish is here for some easy pickings.

“In a way, the Academy’s so artificial,” she said, settling deeper into her chair. “We have all these rules, standards, universal athletics, mostly smart people, profs who all speak clear English, and reasonably ethical people. While my high school friends got summer jobs at Burger King or smoked dope at the beach, we were going all over the world on summer cruise. And we have the next five years wired.”

“But no money, to speak of.”

“Yeah, but most of them won’t have much either. The money difference doesn’t get big until five years down the pike. Besides, none of them will get to strap on an F-eighteen Super Hornet and go blasting off a carrier. Money can’t buy that.”

“Assuming you make it to jets,” he warned. “Not many do.”

“Hell, Dad, that’s assuming the dant doesn’t change his mind in the next week.” She was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at him. Her face was barely visible in the darkness. “I’m sorry about the lies. Charlottesville. And especially Dyle Booth.”

Ev nodded in the darkness. “Just don’t do that in the fleet,” he said. “You’ll be an officer. You can’t let go like that anymore. And if anybody puts the squeeze on you, go tell your boss. It’s not all Dark Side out there.”

She did not reply, and he felt he’d said enough. He was suddenly glad it was dark. He wondered if it was a porpoise out there as something surfaced again, closer to the pier, just out of the dim cone of light from the spots. He could hear it blowing, but not squeaking. They came into the creek sometimes, hunting.

“I hope so,” Julie said, hugging her knees to her chin. “One of the reasons I turned Tommy off was because of what happened down there at UVA. Plus, I had no one else to tell. What are you looking at?”

“I wonder if that’s a porpoise out there,” he said, leaning forward to listen. He got up to go investigate. Julie got up, too, following him down to the very end of the dock, where the steps were. Ev tilted one of the boathouse spots down as he reached the end of the dock, aiming it down into the water, where he saw a shimmering white face with a huge mouthful of teeth just below the surface. Julie saw it at the same time and screamed just as Dyle Booth surfaced, ten feet off the dock.

For a moment, Ev was frozen in place. He distantly heard a screen door slam next door, and then his neighbor, Jack Johnson, called out to them, asking if everything was all right. At that moment, Dyle raised an ugly black government. 45 auto and pointed it at them, drooping the muzzle just enough to drain the water out of it. He was treading water effortlessly, staying just off the dock. He tilted his head in the direction of Johnson’s voice. Ev understood.

“Yeah, Jack, we’re okay,” Ev called.

“Thought I heard a scream,” Johnson said. “Is that Julie with you?” His voice carried with perfect clarity across the water. Dyle was grinning again, but that. 45 never wavered. Julie seemed to be still frozen in shock.

“She got a splinter, Jack. We’re okay.”

“All right, Just checking. Night, Ev.” The old man went back into his house. Dyle moved a little closer to the dock. He called Julie’s name, and she slowly, very slowly, looked down at him.

“Thought it was over, didn’t you, TC? Thought you’d dodged a bullet? You forget something, TC? You forget our little deal?”

Julie swallowed and moved closer to her father, but she didn’t say anything. Ev could feel her trembling. “What the hell do you want, Mr. Booth?”

“Fuck you, Professor, ” Booth spat back at him, ducking almost all the way back under but keeping the. 45 aimed right between them. “You never gave a shit about me. Thought I was some dumb ass kid. I could see it every time I came in. And your precious little girl there. Too good for the likes of me, right, Julie? Except for that once, huh? You thought it was pretty good that night, didn’t you, baby?” He slapped the water hard. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, bitch!”