I don’t understand. I’m supposed to go up to Yorktown’s Flight Deck, but I’m standing before the Corsair, studying its gull-shaped wings and attempting to stop myself from knocking my cane against the propeller again. Why am I so conflicted about the plane that killed my best friend? I even sit on the bench beside it and begin talking to it.
“The Corsair was Ted and I’s favorite World War II aircraft, so we were excited to fly it for the Korean War, even though it was a pain,” I explain. Landing a Corsair on a carrier took a hell of a lot of skill and patience, as well as constant communication with the LSO. Ted picked it up a bit quicker than me, but on the contrary, I wasn’t seasick the first few weeks at sea. I also didn’t fall out of my cot when a bugle sounded for the first time. Ted did. We laughed it off while we hurried to our Ready Room. The bugle’s likely my second favorite memory of Ted and I’s service.
“His face...” I tell the Corsair. “It was hilarious.” I realize here that I’ve been talking with it for thirty minutes because I check my wristwatch on my left wrist. “Wait a minute... What am I saying?” I furrow my brows and shakily stand. “I don’t want anything to do with you,” I growl at the airplane.
Why do I feel like the Corsair’s staring at me?
I leave it and find my way to the elevator. Before I press the button, I hear Temple behind me.
“Bill?”
I turn, and there he is. Temple leaves the Information Booth and approaches me. “What are you doing up here? I thought you were on Cosgrove’s tour.”
“I was, but...” My voice trails. I want to lie, but I can’t. “I just need some fresh air, sir. It hurts knowing that Ted Lawson’s crew could save him, but I couldn’t save my Ted.”
“Ted Lawson?” Temple questions. “Ted Lawson doesn’t matter here. What matters is that you at least try to move past that memory. Your Ted wouldn’t want you to fear the world. He would want you to be strong.” He pauses before continuing. “Ask yourself, Bill... Who are you? Ted Lawson and your Ted know, but you don’t, and you haven’t since that accident.”
I shut down briefly before saying, “I’m going to the Flight Deck.” I press the elevator’s up button. “I’m ninety-two years old, Temple,” I add while I wait for it. “It’s too late for change.”
Once the elevator reaches the Hangar Bay and I climb aboard, the last thing I hear from Temple while the door closes is, “It’s never too late.”
***
I stood in the pouring rain on Valley Forge’s Flight Deck, my mind numb from what I had seen and felt during Ted and I’s first week on the sea. A couple of pilots were taken down to Sick Bay after crashing their airplanes on the Flight Deck, among practice drills. Ted had freaked out after hearing a bugle, and I had spent too much time in the library during my free time. While the racks were okay, they weren’t comfortable like my warm bed at home—and the meals weren’t Mother’s.
“Bill, what are you doing here in the pouring rain?” Ted, who had just exited the ship, shot me a funny look.
“Oh, just getting some fresh air,” I answered, remembering the lesson we learned our first day on the ship: Don’t show emotion. I leaned against Valley Forge’s island and glanced at Ted, my hand in my pocket. “What about you?”
“How long have we been friends, Cheeky?” Ted inquired. “You know I need to know where you are.”
I saw sadness behind his blue eyes and chuckled. “Do you miss your mother, too?”
Ted returned my chortle and relaxed his broad shoulders. “How did you know?”
“Like you said...” I answered. “How long have we been friends, Roosevelt?”
Ted wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me dangerously close to his chest. He knocked off my cap and rubbed his knuckle across my messy hair, tousling it more. Ted then released me and smiled lovingly. “We’re going to make Mother proud, Cheeky. I promise. We’ll prove to her that we’re men.”
“You’re right,” I said. Joy found its way into the hole in my heart. “We’ll get through this war and return home together.”
“Exactly.” Ted released a cigarette box from his pocket and held it close. “Now, why don’t we get out of this weather, Cheeky, and have a smoke?”
“Don’t be a stranger. Let’s go.” I waited until Ted and I returned inside the carrier before accepting his cigarette. We gagged under the acute smell of diesel while Ted readied his lighter.
However, as soon as our cigarettes were lit, Valley Forge’s PA turned on, and it announced, “Smoking lamp is out.”
“Shit!” Ted and I said simultaneously.
***
Ah, that’s a good memory—Ted comforting me on the Flight Deck, and the Smoking lamp is out announcement after we lit our cigarettes. Thinking back, I wish I was as optimistic as him. Ted missed his mom like me but was so happy to finally call himself a man of the “land and sea”. I must rekindle that legacy… somehow.
It’s hot on the Flight Deck, but a summer breeze transfixes me. I head toward the bow the second the elevator frees me. I am a man of the land and sea, just like my best friend. I’m not as young as I used to be, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help guide the youth today.
Look beyond, Bill. Temple’s right—you haven’t known who you are since the Incident. I have a daughter who doesn’t want me to die feeling guilty, and Yorktown hopes I won’t, either.
A tanker ship off Yorktown’s port side catches my attention. For a second, I want to sail with her. I even lift my hand and wave when the ship blows her foghorn.
Who am I?
The rest of the way to the number 10 on Yorktown’s bow, I remember when I would do the same on Valley Forge, even in heavy weather.
Who am I?
Rekindle Ted’s legacy, Bill. Try to be as optimistic as him. I stop on the number 10 and drop my cane. The strength in my legs returns, and I lift my arms into the iconic Navy LSO high signal while studying the Cooper River Bridge.
Who am I?
I close my eyes and announce to Charleston, “I am William! I am a man of the land and sea, and I promise I won’t let you down, Ted!”
There I was, young again, and letting a wave christen me. Now, in the present, that wave has changed into the summer sunshine.
I am William, a man of the land and sea, ready to finally give Patriots Point another chance.
More happy memories overtake my mind, including Ted and me dancing with our brothers in our berthing section while one man played his harmonica and another his accordion. We were just kids who wanted to pretend we were dancing with a lady.
My legs tap in a Jitterbug-like fashion with the memory. I move my arms and twirl in a circle. It’s the most fun I’ve had since starting at Patriots Point. What better way to Jitterbug than on the Flight Deck of an aircraft carrier while remembering the “good ole’ days”?
Eventually, I calm down, but I gasp and quickly pick up my cane at the sight of someone.
The woman I met at the Doolittle Raid exhibit stands before me, grinning. She waves and nervously says, “Hi.”
“It’s you,” I say, and she nods.
“Yes, it’s me.” The woman sticks her hands behind her and crosses her right leg over her left. “I didn’t know you knew the Jitterbug.”
I giggle hauntingly. “My best friend taught me. He was always the partier. He came home one night with a woman and taught us the Jitterbug.” We’re quiet for a second, and then I add, “If you don’t mind me asking, ma’am, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be on the tour?”
The woman approaches me and stands on my left side, examining the river and bridge. “I am… Was! Sorry! It’s just, I’d”—she gulps—“I’d like to know a little more about your friend.”
“What? Why? It’s confidential.” I turn away from the woman and stick my cane between my ankles. I notice myself hunching. While I straighten myself, the woman’s gentle hand grips my shoulder. Ted also had a soft grasp.
“I just…” The woman releases me. “The name is familiar.”
“Ma’am,” I say, turning back, “there are many guys named Ted.”
“Sure, but the name isn’t as popular as it was back then,” the woman explains. “Just… please. Give me a chance. He’s familiar.”
I don’t know what she’s talking about. I’m supposed to be looking beyond Ted’s death, and here she is, making a joke.
I feel my face flushing and tears threatening to escape. “Just stop,” I beg, turning away again. “Please. I can’t have any distractions right now.” I lower my Valley Forge cap and return to my black hole, repeating to myself as I leave, “I am William.”
But am I really?
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfhab56Cmua
End of Act I: Ted "Roosevelt"
Current Word Count: 16,065
ns 15.158.61.20da2
