Chapter 11: End of Service

Darren’s CO called him into his office on a Friday morning.

“Got some bad news, for me anyway,” says his CO. “Just got word that you are being transferred to Norfolk, VA, end of next week. I’m losing my best dock manager.”

Darren does not know what to say. He just hit his three-year mark, with one to go, before he can get out or re-up for another two years. He really liked it in Houston. The climate was muggy, but always warm, and his CO was the best officer he had worked for since joining the Army.

“Sir, can I deny the transfer?”

“Sorry, but not in this case. The brass is expecting a large uptick in traffic over the next twelve months and wants some seniority, short-timers, to handle the work without the hassle of training a bunch of new recruits.”

Darren waits for his CO to continue.

“I guess that is good news for you. If you choose to re-up definitely use that if you can – that they selected you for this assignment.”

“Yes, sir,” Darren replies. “You said I have until the end of next week? When do I report at Norfolk?”

“Unfortunately, there is no built-in break. You are scheduled to finish here on Friday and report there Monday morning. I’ll tell you what, through, if you can get ahead of your work by Thursday evening I’ll cut you loose to give you an extra day.”

“Appreciated, sir,” says Darren.

Darren does as he was asked and has most of work for the week completed by Thursday. His CO also does what he said and tells him he doesn’t need to come in the next day. It will give him three days to make the fourteen hundred mile trek to the east coast.

Darren packs his few belongings into his car and sets out early Friday morning. Because he has the time, and knows no one in Norfolk, he makes frequent stops and enjoys seeing the various cities between Texas and Virginia. For his nightly layovers he pulls into a rest area and find a spot between two trucks before getting a few hours of sleep.

He arrives in Norfolk by 3:00 PM Sunday afternoon. Because he is only planning on staying in the Army for the remainder of his year, he elects to get base housing. He checks in and is put in a small suite with two other guys that also work on the docks. His first night in Virginia is spent hearing mountains of gossip as his two roommates unload on their new audience for hours.

On Monday Darren reports to his new CO. He’s aloof and only spends the minimum time to get Darren set up at a desk. Luckily, the work is the same regardless of the port, so Darren is quickly able to feel comfortable in his job.

By the end of the week Darren has established himself as one of the go-to dock managers and has guys that have been at this port for months or even years, coming to him for advice. The last thing he saw on his desk was a memo from his CO. Two new managers were coming on Monday and he was asked to get them settled at desks.

Instead of staying in what was effectively a dorm room that he called home, Darren chose to go to Virginia Beach for the weekend. He threw his backpack with some food stuffs and his sleeping back into the car and left Friday after work. His plan was to find a place to leave the car, then spend the days on the beach surfing, reading, or even sleeping. By Sunday he accomplished his primary goal of enjoying a solitary weekend on the beach. He was feeling quite happy with himself and his time away from everyone.

When he arrived on Monday morning he saw that two men were sitting at his desk. It was then that he remembered his task of getting two new managers settled. When he got closer his heart sank.

“You Brimble,” asked the one man.

“Yeah,” he offers his hand for a handshake. The man shakes it and says, “Carpenter, Robert Carpenter.”

“Nice to meet you, Robert,” says Darren.

Robert then steps aside for the next instruction, but there is silence. Finally, the two men acknowledge one another.

“Steve.”

“Darren.”

Then Darren looks to Robert and simply says, “We went through boot camp together.”

Knowing when to keep quiet Robert just nods as he looks from one to the other.

Darren gets Robert and Steve set up desks. Because he can, he puts Robert at the desk closest to him, which leaves Steve the desk in the far corner.

By the end of the week Darren is tired of the games and approaches Steve and Robert.

“Guys, want to go get a beer after our shift?”

Robert says, “I’d love to, but my family is Richmond and I have plans on going there for the weekend. Next week?”

“Sure,” says Darren. He looks toward Steve. “Steve, want to go out?”

Steve pauses then says, “Sure.”

After work Steve and Darren go to a bar not far from base. It takes a couple of drinks, but once downed, and apologies offered on both sides, the two are back to talking like old friends. The drinks, however, don’t stop with a couple for Steve. He continues to down drinks quickly. His inebriation loosens his lips, and he starts to lean into Darren and offer a slurred drunken confession.

“Darren, my boy, you were right, but you were so wrong, too,” starts Steve. “Forrest was a scammer. He wanted me to lose a few boxes, which was easy enough, but it turns he was an amateur. He was happy to make a hundred bucks once or twice a year. I figured out a way to use a similar technique, but to make ten-times the amount with no chance of getting caught.”

Steve raises his drink, pounds down what is left, then slams the glass onto the bar with a triumphant snort. Darren does not want to risk a fight with a drunken his friend that he seems to be repairing ties with, but he does make a mental note to talk to him on Monday when he is sober.

Darren talks to Steve on Monday. Steve emphatically tells him that he has no intentions of stealing from this dock. He’s too close to getting out of the Army to do something that stupid. Darren wants to believe him but makes a resolution to keep a wary eye on the work coming from Steve’s desk.

The next seven months go by in a blur. Somewhat surprisingly, the Army correctly identified the surge in work that would occur in Norfolk. Even with the additional hands that were brought in, the work was almost overwhelming at times. Darren was unable to keep an eye on Steve’s desk, because for what the Army got right in getting more help, they got wrong by bringing in three dock managers right out of training. Darren spent a lot of time double-checking their work or answering questions.

After an enjoyably light work week the dozen guys that worked together went out for drinks for the first time in months. Two had one drink and then quickly bailed because they had a family at home. Another few stayed for a second round, but then they too headed out for their own plans. Ultimately, Darren and Steve were the last two at the bar.

“If the rest of the year continues like this week, I think we’re on the downward slide to getting out,” says Darren as he raises his glass.

Steve raises his glass, but it is a fresh refill, and he is feeling the effects of the previous four he rapidly downed, so he sloshes a good wave of beer onto the table as he bangs his glass against Darren’s proffered mug.

“Hell, yeah,” Steve slurs.

“Buddy,” Darren says, “don’t you think you should slow down a little? Maybe ease off on the alcohol until you are out so you don’t get into any trouble in the last few months.”

Steve raises his bloodshot eyes to gaze unsteadily at Darren. “Would you take your pious, my-shit-don’t-stick attitude and shove it up your ass?”

“Hey,” Darren says, “no need to go there. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Look out for me? Like you did my sister? Drop my drunk ass off in bed, then go get yourself fucked senseless? You could have at least slept in your own bed.”

Darren’s mouth had dropped open. “But, how did you...”

Steve lets out a belly laugh. “How did I know? Fuck, the whole house could hear her riding you like a wild stallion, even though I imagine you more of a kids ride-a-pony type.”

Darren’s memory of the innocuous breakfast with Steve’s family the next morning causes him to blush a deep scarlet.

“And then you go and cheat at cards to win big, but give me shit for losing to cheaters? And then the big one, when my only way out of the money I owe is to cross the line you leave me high and dry? Won’t even talk to me for weeks?”

Darren is speechless. “Steve, I, uh...”

Steve guzzles the rest of his beer and drops the mug onto the table. He pushes down on the table and rises to what full height he can with so much booze coursing through his veins.

“Fuck you,” he says quietly but definitively. “If you weren’t such a dick-wad pussy I would have cut you in on all the low-hanging peaches, I mean low-hanging watermelon, this port has to offer.” He then turns and sways heavily to his right, course-corrects, then weaves his way out of the bar.

Like boot camp, Steve spends his remaining time with Darren trying to contain open hostilities. Darren works very hard not to be exposed to any of Steve’s work. Steve’s comment about low-hanging fruit, albeit the wrong one, twice, meant Darren was very leery of having any connections to Steve. It wasn’t too late for him to get caught and go down in flames.

In two months there are no fireworks and both men are honorably discharged from the Army. Steve returns to Memphis and with his experience from the Army gets a job in the shipping industry. Darren is in no hurry to return to Illinois so he decides to stay in Norfolk for a few months.

After the drunken encounter with Steve, Darren starts to spend as much time as possible off the base. Normally, rain or shine, he would head to a local park and hike the three mile loop through the winding forest trail. As Darren leaves the base one afternoon the weather turned particularly inclement and he was forced to reconsidered his afternoon excursion.

As he drives he spots the sign for the public library and swings his car into the lot. In between large heavy rain drops he runs inside and stands in the foyer with the door held open as he tries to shake the wetness from his jacket. A matronly librarian sees him as she returns to the centralized help desk.

“I think that’s dry enough,” she says as she gets his attention. “Just be careful not to drip directly onto a book.”