Glimpses of An Election

"I want to see the notes first. Both of us can't work on it even if it looks serious. This is the weekend, you know. But maybe one of us can."

"You got other stuff?"

"Lots of it. That's no problem."

"I'll get the notes and then get Run-Run and we'll meet you at your store in two hours."

"I'm skeptical, but one of us'll be here."

Then he caught Run-Run who agreed. He was coming down town anyway, and would meet him at Cohen's clothing store.

-- My, my, Lieutenant Reis. You do get around.

Finally he talked with Marsh, who sounded as if he had not yet gone to bed, or wished he hadn't gotten up.

"That's tricky as hell, Cat; but you bring 'em up here and I'll give you my view." He chuckled. "Damn, it would be fun to beat Gillmor at his own game. I'll get us a sandwich."

"Make it for three 'cause I'm bringing the yeoman who took the notes along and you can check him out yourself."

Roberts was a late draftee from a farm in Ohio. He was taken by the bigger world and the new skills, and had signed on for a full hitch. Cat liked him after five minutes of easy talk.

"So what have you got?"

"Well, Sir, my steno notes, and then I typed a transcript. Like, Lieutenant, lots of lonesome typewriters easy to find on a Saturday morning."

Cat grinned.

-- I like this. He mocked the official report jargon: 4.0 on initiative; 4.0 on devotion to duty; and 5.0 on risking getting caught using government issue property for personal purposes.

"OK, Tim, let's go see The Judge."

They spent just more than an hour with Marsh, who moved the conversation around like he was a shark pretending to be a bumpkin making lucky shots in a pool hall. He largely ignored Cat, who was content to be a spectator.

-- He's teaching me something important.

Marsh asked about farming in Ohio, then about barges on the Ohio, and finally if he liked the Navy.

"Well, Sir, some of it is like shovelling the shit out of the barn or sloppin' pigs, but then there's the good part."

"What's that, Tim?"

"You ever work on a farm, Mr. Judge?"

"Now and again."

"So you know it can get kind of the same; and I like to be around different people, and then there's the learnin'."

"Learning what?"

"Well, I'll likely go back to the farm. That's what I was growed up to do and it's all right. But I think I'll be better at it for getting out of there for a spell. And then there's...."

He stopped, looked out the window. Embarrassed. Even a moment of flush in his cheeks.

Marsh just waited. Poured a bit more beer in Tim's glass. The young man grinned at Cat, then spoke sideways back to Marsh.

"You are foxin' me, Mr. Judge. Sending me out to hunt snipe. But you are mighty good at it, and not puttin' me down...Kind of like my mother, and that's the other part of it. She was what people called nosy, always knowin' about what was going on, and I guess I got it from her. Being a yeoman is just fun because you get to know all kinds of things that other people don't know."

Marsh tipped his chair back, just an inch or two, and coughed and laughed till finally he took a long drink from his tumbler.

Table of Contents

• Introduction

1. Maggie and Mr. Hank
2. The Reverend
3. Squalls Along the Flight Line
4. Flying Home to Church
5. A Visit with The Judge
6. Communion
7. Afterthoughts
8. Monday Morning With The Admiral
9. Into the Dining Room
10. On Toward Walking the Streets
11. Glimpses of An Election
12. The Dream and The Reality of Violence
13. The Admiral Loses More Than a Few Good Men
14. Down That Lonesome Road

• Cast of Characters
• Credits and Acknowledgements