Chapter 1

Sitting on the fantail, I felt the constant rumble of the ship's single screw thrashing in the ocean below me. As the prop turned unseen beneath the hull of the ship, it stirred up the bioluminescence in the water, leaving an eerie glowing trail in our wake. The trail distorted in the rolling ocean waves and faded as it stretched out over the distant eastern horizon.

The sun was beginning to dip low in the western sky when the 1MC announced, "Set condition dog zebra throughout the ship." A nightly occurrence, 'dog zebra' is a readiness condition resulting in the closing of all hatches and doors that lead to the outside skin of the ship. The military ships of the world have practiced this routine for decades because light will travel for miles over the open ocean, giving away a ship's position. In the days before radar, condition dog zebra was an essential way to sail undetected at night.

'Dog zebra' also happens to be Navy slang for three men having sex with one woman simultaneously. One guy fucks her pussy, one guy fucks her ass, and one guy has his dick in her mouth, thus "all openings are secured." Ever since I found out the meaning of the slang, I've chuckled to myself whenever I heard it announced on the 1MC but tonight was different, tonight I wasn't in the mood.

I looked to my right. Terry Jones was sitting next to me. He hadn't spoken a word for the last twenty minutes. Motionless, he stared out over the handrail at the vastness of the dark blue ocean in front of us.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "So what are you going to do?"

Jones's face showed no emotion. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out another cigarette. Placing it between his lips, he lit it using the fading ember from his previous butt. Until today, I've never seen Jones chain smoke. He flicked the used cigarette butt over the rail. It disappeared into the churning wake behind the ship.

"I'm going to tell her."

"Why?" I said raising my voice in frustration, "What good would it possibly do to tell her? Give it some time; you'll eventually forget about what happened in Turkey. Edith will never have to know about your indiscretion."

"Is that what we're calling it?" He huffed at me. "I'll know, and she can see right through me when I'm hiding something. I need to tell her the truth. I fucked up and I have to pay for it."

"Okay, you fucked up. It's not as if you had some torrid love affair behind her back. You spent one hour with a hooker when you were piss drunk. You barely even remember doing it!"

"Doesn't matter how much I remember, I let it happen," Jones said solemnly.

"You don't have to tell her. Besides, it's not all your fault. If Edith had picked up the phone when you tried calling her, you never would have gotten depressed, you never would have gotten shit-faced, and you never would have even gone to the fucking Compound!"

Jones glanced at me with steel eyes, "You want me to blame this on Edith? I got a letter from her yesterday. She told me she was sorry for missing my call. The baby was having a bad day. He had a fever and he wouldn't stay asleep, so she turned off the phone ringer. She just forgot to turn it back on when she went to bed." He took a drag on his cigarette and his eyes slowly drifted back over the waves, "I should have known that she would have a good reason for not answering the phone."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, "It sounds like too convenient of an excuse to me. What about the things your parents said, what about the stuff that your in-laws told you when you talked to them? I thought they said Edith had been acting strange these last few weeks. Hell, even your neighbor, what's her name?"

"Lisa?"

"Yeah, Lisa even told you that something wasn't right."

"Lisa was acting strange on the phone, but she never said anything specific about Edith."

"Okay, so ask yourself, why was Edith acting strange to your family, and why was Lisa avoiding your questions? A lot of weird things happened that night and you can't blame yourself for all of it."

Jones shook his head, "You're wrong because Edith trusted me to remain faithful, and I betrayed that trust, plain and simple."

The word 'trust' brought back a memory of a conversation with Bailey I had while at the bar in Turkey, Trust, it had to be mutual.

Jones never doubted that Edith would remain faithful while he remained deployed. His trust in Edith never wavered except for that one drunken night. He believed that Edith trusted him fully in return but she still made him promise repeatedly to behave before he left on this cruise. Why did she make him promise if she really trusts him? "Maybe you're not the only one who betrayed that trust."

Jones spun to face me and gave me a look that would make an infant cry, "What the fuck are you talking about Meadows?"

"Just something Bailey told me back in Turkey."

"Bailey," Jones scoffed, "What the fuck does he know?"

"I'm serious. Bailey told me that Edith flirted with him."

"What?"

"That's what I said. I guess during the going away party at your house back in May, Edith grabbed his ass in the garage."

"That son of a bitch, I'm going to float test him!" Jones threw his cigarette overboard and jumped to his feet.

I grabbed his arm, "No!" Jones hesitated but the look on his face warned me to let go or risk losing my hand. "You can't say a word to Bailey. He walked away from her and nothing happened. I promised him that I wouldn't tell you."

"Then why the fuck, are you telling me?"

I let go of his arm, "Because you're my friend and I hate to see you brooding like this."

"So you think that telling me that my wife flirted with one of my friends is going to make me feel better?"

"No, not exactly in that context, I guess I'm just saying that you set the standard pretty high. I don't know what Edith was thinking when she groped Bailey, but maybe you need to give yourself a break, that's all. Six months apart is a long time. Everybody slips up, but they get over it and move on."

Jones started cracking his knuckles while he slowly sat back down and returned to staring at nothing.

After a long pause he spoke, "Why do you think Bailey told you about my wife flirting with him?"

"Shit if I know. He was probably bragging."

"Maybe," He said while he rolled his head back. I followed his attention to the clear sky above us. The stars were just starting to become visible in the twilight, "Or maybe he was trying to convince you that my wife was a slut. That way you wouldn't try to stop him from hooking me up with that prostitute?"

"I ... I don't think Bailey would ... Do you really think he would do that?"

Jones didn't answer.

I stood up, stepped towards the handrail, and leaned on it. Below me, the bubbling wake behind the ship threw a fine mist against my face. I could taste the salt in the air as I breathed in deeply, "Are you mad at me for not stopping you at the compound?"

"No. It's not your fault. At the time I wanted that prostitute more than anything in the world," He sighed, "Besides, you're a wimp. I doubt you would have been able to stop me anyway."

I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Jones. At least he still had some semblance of humor.

A few moments later, the ship started to list a few degrees to starboard. The screw below us started to cavitate slightly as the USS Yellowstone began a slow, wide turn to port. A course adjustment as we headed for home.

In the past eleven days we'd traveled over three thousand miles during our trek west across the Atlantic. Tomorrow morning, the Yellowstone would enter the Chesapeake Bay for the first time in six months, scheduled to arrive at the Norfolk Naval Base Pier 11 around eight thirty.

Watching Jones light up another cigarette gave me the feeling that he probably wouldn't mind if the ship turned around and sailed back to the Mediterranean for another tour. I sighed; realizing there was nothing I could say to put his tension at ease.

I stepped back from the handrail and stood before my friend, "I'm going to head up to the shop and see what movies are playing. Are you going to be okay?"

"What do you think?"

I paused to study his face for a moment, "I think you need to see Edith's smile on the pier tomorrow. I think that when you hold her in your arms and give her the biggest hug of your life, everything will be okay."

Jones took a long drag from his cigarette, "Meadows?"

"Yeah?"

He exhaled a cloud of smoke in my direction, "Shut the hell up."

I coughed as the exhaled smoke quickly dissipated around me. I sighed to myself and thought as I turned to leave the fantail, Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of footsteps coming from the mess deck above. A quick glance at my watch showed that it was 0530. Reveille this morning was early so the deck apes would have enough time to prepare for our impending arrival pier-side.

I pulled back the curtains on my rack to find almost everyone in my berthing already stirring. My shipmates seemed to be in an unusually cheerful mood, most likely because we had finally arrived at the end of this six-month deployment nightmare.

I also was in a good mood until I tried to iron my dress blues. Some idiot had broken the last working iron. My dress uniform pants were a wrinkled mess since I forgot that I had hastily stored them in my sea locker after my last Quarterdeck watch. I cursed myself for not having the foresight to iron my pants last night. Without a way to fix the large creases that adorned my legs, I put on the wrinkled garment and hoped that nobody would take notice.

During morning muster, Chief Mills' keen eye instantly spotted my wrinkled pants within seconds of me falling in line. He stepped in front of me and gave my uniform a once over.

"Petty Officer Meadows, are you trying to test my patience?"

"No Chief."

"Then would you care to explain to me why your dress uniform looks like it was just pulled out of the scullery trash compactor?"

"All the irons in berthing were busted."

"Well there are other berthing compartments on this ship. I suggest you find one with a working iron. Keep in mind that I have first watch on the Quarter Deck this morning. If you have any intensions of seeing liberty anytime during my watch, then I strongly suggest you take me seriously."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, "Yes Chief."

Bailey and Jones were standing in line behind me, chuckling under their breath. Chief looked over my shoulder and gave them 'the look', silencing them both instantly.

After muster, I left the shop and started my search of the berthing compartments looking for a working iron. The call to man the rails went out just as I found one in the electrician's berthing. Hastily, I ironed my pants and put them back on. I flew out of the berthing compartment and sprinted up three ladder wells to get to the weather deck.

The cool November morning air hit my face the moment I opened the hatch. It felt good against the warm thick scratchy wool of my dress blue uniform. Without a cloud in the sky, the morning sun was blinding and I instantly regretted forgetting to bring a pair of sunglasses.

Walking aft, I found the ship-fitters shop's assigned manning position and joined my shop-mates standing at parade rest. Glancing back and forth, I noticed that Jones and Bailey were nowhere in sight.