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kayjay
Member Elite
since 2002-06-24
Posts 2015
Oregon

0 posted 2005-07-26 04:18 PM


"Charlie"

I stood at in the second row of mourners at Charlie’s service.  There wasn’t enough of him left for a funeral.  I looked out the windows of the military chapel.  How could the clouds be so white and the sun so hot and Charlie so dead?  I couldn’t see too well and a new kid on our submarine, our “boat”, grabbed me at the end of the service and hauled me off to a gin mill.  Torgerson, the kid’s name was: he was tagged “Torgy.”  I hadn’t met him yet, but he grabbed me like we’d sailed together for years.
He held up the newspaper with two inch headlines: “Sub sailor saves 10, loses life.”  I glanced at the story I’d read a thousand times.  It was a routine torpedo drill, simulating firing and reloading, intended to train new hands to submarine ways. Somehow a battery had cooked off.  The explosion had blown a sea valve and spread fire to the bunks, paint and anything else flammable.  As the sea poured in, Charlie had gotten every one out and gotten the watertight door shut and dogged.  When we returned to the shipyard, investigators found his charred remains.  
“He saved me, Slim.  The Torpedo Room was so smoky you couldn’t find one hand with the other.   I couldn’t get out.”  He jabbed at his eyes;  he’d gone from never seeing death to slipping through the Reaper’s grip because of Charlie.   ”I was the last guy out, Charlie tossed me like I was a bean bag.  Who was this guy?”
I looked at him.  He had the blue eyes and corn colored hair you only see in Northern Minnesota.  He was six feet and then some. “Tossing” him would be no mean feat.
“So, Torgy, you want to know about Charlie?  Well, I’ll tell ya, kid, I’ll tell you about Charlie.”
“Charlie and me were runnin’ mates, they called us.  From Kao Shung to Subic Bay, Sasebo to Honolulu, it was Slim and Charlie, Charlie and Slim.“
I paused, remembering foggy thoughts of far off bars and dark-eyed women.
“Charlie wasn’t feisty exactly; he just met life with his chin.  He’d try to punch you out with one hand and shake your hand with the other.  He was the first to party, then he’d save your life.  He won the Navy Cross during the war, but he didn't think he was a hero.  He just took what life gave him."
I leaned back, tilted my head back and drained my beer.  Torgy turned to the barkeep, but he’d sidled up to hear the story with a new pitcher.  I could swear I heard Charlie laughing.
Half a dozen crewmembers had filtered in and gathered around, either hearing anew or again a “Charlie” story.  
        One old-timer growled “Liberty with Charlie was like juggling dynamite.  One screw-up and he’d leave wreckage behind him.”
Now Charlie was about five foot four and maybe 140 pounds with a wet towel around him, but very strong.  He had a lazy eye that looked over your shoulder and a nose that looked like something dug up in Idaho.  Some called him “Spud” but not to his face.  
“Charlie could have lived in any age, son, he could have been a crusader, a pirate, or a mountain man.  Anywhere life was sweet, there was Charlie.  You ever hear about Bremerton?”
Torgy refilled his glass from the pitcher and shook his head.
     “Now you guys know Charlie loved to fight.  His favorite stunt was to jaw at the biggest guy in the joint.  With any luck, his goading could turn any bar into firewood in about 20 minutes.  He loved action and loved to be in the middle of it.  
“Well, the boat pulled in for liberty at the shipyard and we had weekend liberty.  Now the Captain had gone berserk the last time we’d got in a scrap.  He had blue eyes that registered 20 below: he said ‘Don’t cross my bow again, sailors or I’ll have your stripes and you’ll be on surface craft.  I resolved to keep Charlie on a leash.”
      “Before I knew it we were three sheets to the wind in a sleazy dance hall called the FOCSL.  They even spelled it like it sounds, and not forecastle.  The place was full of cleavage and seaman’s dreams and a whole lot of carrier sailors from the flattop we’d seen in drydock.  I was wondering how I’d gotten so broke so fast when I heard a bunch of shoutin’ neat the door.  A gob about six six and maybe 250 was holdin’ Charlie up off the ground the way you’d hold a puppy that had just piddled and you wanted to rub his nose in it.  The guy was laughin’ like hell.”
      A grey-haired chief petty officer chimed in “Charlie sure could pick ‘em.”
      “Charlie was screaming at him ‘Put me down and I’ll wipe up the floor with you’.”
“Well, I know what’s coming and I want Charlie to shut up.  Charlie played his trump card.  ‘OK, you big dummy.’  I’d wanted to stuff something in his chops but it was too late.”
“He grinned at the guy and said “If I ain’t big enough for you, maybe Slim is.”
      Now the only place I’m not slim is my shoulders and chest.  I’ve a skinny butt and I hate to fight.  But I look like a brawler.  The only reason I do is that I’ve kept Charlie alive all these years.
      “About this time, Charlie focused on me and bellowed “Hey, Slim, this blubberbelly wants a piece of us.”
      I'd been here before.  The guy shifted his gaze, took one look at my 6’3: and dropped Charlie like smelly garbage.  A great gleam, like a searchlight at 4 am, came into his eye.  He didn’t crouch, he didn’t pull back his fists, he just lunged.  All I could see was his hands.  The fingers were the size of dinner sausages and they jammed into what looked like blocks of broken concrete."
      When he hit me, I sort of felt the puffy fingers, but then came the concrete and I wondered why they painted the ceiling that color.  Then came the part I hated the most.   My vision went red around the outside and the guy’s face came into a razor-edged clearness and my legs were under me.  My speed always surprised them and me too, I guess.  
     "My left hand moved three times.  The first opened his nose, the second his upper lip and the third sent him back peddlin’ into a shipmate.  Now I don’t understand sailors, they just like to raise hell.  One guy with crutches swung like Lou Gehrig, decking three guys and clearing the barglasses.
The big guy’s shipmates shoved him back to me.  ‘Go get ‘im, Cannon.;  
“I thought “Oh great, Cannon, I’m gonna be killed.”  But he slipped on some broken glass coming in and I got my weight behind a right cross that insured that his left ear would look funny.”
“Charlie jumped on him pig-a-back, dug his heels into the guy’s sides and yelled ‘Yahoo’”
      By now I was laughing too, joining a couple of the crew who had tears running down their faces.
      “Ol’ Charlie was waving his white hat like he’d just come out of chute number 4.  He had his left arm around the guy’s neck and kept hittin’ him with overheads to the top of his skull with his right. Must’ve hurt his hand something fierce.  Didn’t slow ‘Cannon’ down, tho.”
The gathering crewmembers, must’ve been 20 or so by now, chuckled and a few flexed their hands.
      “So then what?” Torgy almost pleaded, his eyes gleaming with vicarious thrill.
      “Well, we weren’t backin’ down but there was maybe 30 of us and about 200 of them.  Carriers got whole bunches of guys in the crew.  It was nutty, but fists and hats and beer were flyin’ everywhere.  It was a full riot in seconds.  Cannon swung by, ignoring Charlie and looking for someone to hit.  Charlie rodeoed by, larrupin’ away on him.  Uh oh, I heard the whistles and sirens of the Shore Patrol.”
     “Geez, the SPs getcha?” Torgy asked?”
     “All I wanted to do is run away and fight another day, Torgy.  I stuck out an arm, grabbed Charlie as one of our guys tied into Cannon.  ‘C’mon,’ I yelled, ‘The SPs will have us all in the brig'.”
      Now I’d seen the inside a couple of Navy jails. Not a good place.
      "Nightsticks had replaced fists and you could hear the “thunk” as heads were busted.  I pulled him, swinging at the air, down a long hallway with a window at the end.  I stuffed him through like sheets down a laundry chute.  Charlie turned and yelled ‘Shore Patrol.’  Only the turning of my head saved me as some refugee from a sumo wrestling team crunched my shoulder.  I sagged and nearly blacked out.  ‘Sumo’ wasn’t expecting any action, but Charlie reached in and pulled the stick from the guy’s hands.  He leaned through the window and cracked him and maybe broke his arm.  Charlie grabbed my good arm and pulled me through the window.  We stumbled down the alley and ducked into the basement of an apartment building.  They never caught us.”
      “And that, young Torgy, was ‘Charlie.”

[This message has been edited by kayjay (07-27-2005 09:58 AM).]

© Copyright 2005 Ken Julkowski - All Rights Reserved
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
1 posted 2005-07-26 05:35 PM


Ken

A very touching story....and, your timing and the reality of the story caught me up in it.  Well done, my friend!!  

Enchantress
Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113
Canada eh.
2 posted 2005-07-26 06:46 PM


Ah Ken...it was a real treat to read this excellent write!
And this description of Charile..perfection!

"Now Charlie was about five foot four and maybe 140 pounds with a wet towel around him, but very strong.  He had a lazy eye that looked over your shoulder and a nose that looked like something dug up in Idaho.  Some called him “Spud” but not to his face."  

Very very much enjoyed m'friend.
I do hope in time you will share more tales with us.

Hugs~Nancy

Midnitesun
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647
Gaia
3 posted 2005-07-26 06:53 PM


WOW, you are a superb storyteller Ken!
Are there more Charlie chapters?
PLEASE

Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
4 posted 2005-07-26 07:55 PM


First, I laughed OUT LOUD at

"When he hit me, I sort of felt the puffy fingers, but then came the concrete and I wondered why they painted the ceiling that color."

Second, when you want a ghost-editor? I'm your gal.

THIRD?

See Midnitesun's response.

A natural storyteller....right here in PiP!!!


kayjay
Member Elite
since 2002-06-24
Posts 2015
Oregon
5 posted 2005-07-26 08:02 PM


Any and all are welcome to come in  with editorial comment.  Some of the quotation marks are probably off and the bar scene could be spiced up.  I've seen a couple where some women were pulling and scratching at each other.  
Thanks to each of you whose writing I so admire.  Comment away.  Ken

Through rubble and trouble and dark of night
The yawn of a dawn will hasten the light

Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
6 posted 2005-07-26 08:58 PM


But the point is...

are there more Charlie and Slim chapters?

Enchantress
Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113
Canada eh.
7 posted 2005-07-26 10:19 PM



Oh there just has to be more....please?!!

Alicat
Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094
Coastal Texas
8 posted 2005-07-26 11:40 PM


I really liked this one, Kayjay.  The narrative sucked me in, and I could see the characters.  Though not fully developed, there was enough there to gauge their personalities, methods of thinking, and general feelings.  Very well done!
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