"Natalie, what are you doing in here?" I turned on the light when I heard her shuffling in my paper-filled office. My eyes landed on her and the book she carried. It wasn't just any book.
I inhaled and pushed a few boxes aside, approaching my teenage daughter. "So... you found Willed?"
"I'm sorry, Dad," Natalie said, hugging the book. "I was only trying to figure out why you're always so sad." She showed me the photo album and gestured at a picture of Ted. "Is he why?"
This day was going to come eventually. I couldn't hide Ted from Natalie forever.
"You told me you had a friend in the war, but that's it." Natalie sat in my swivel chair, and I opened my office's curtains, revealing the busy streets of New York City.
Grabbing a chair from the corner, I lugged it to Natalie and set it beside her. "His name was Ted," I explained, taking the book from her. "He was my best friend, Natalie, and I-I..." My voice trailed, and I swallowed a lump. "I shot him down."
"You shot him down?" Natalie flinched and leaned away from me like she was frightened.
"It was an accident!" I quickly said, lifting my hands. "Natalie, please, there was a blizzard, and I… I… I didn't recognize him. Look." I plopped into the chair, reached into my shirt, and pulled out a locket. Opening it, I showed Natalie a picture of Ted and me, and she carefully examined it. "This is Ted and I when we started our service. We each gave one another a locket, just in case. And this album"—I took it from her and flipped through it—"is something we had since childhood—from when we first met to the last picture we took before it happened."
"Do you think he may still be alive?" Natalie inquired, glancing into my solemn eyes.
I chuckled hauntingly, closed the book, and answered, "Not unless he experienced the Lazarus effect."
***
I wrap my hand around my new walking cane, which is black with a navy blue handle, and tell Natalie, "It feels great, Nat." We've arrived at Patriots Point for my shift, and I've just opened my door and set my strong, new cane on the hot cement of the parking lot.
Once I climb out, Natalie points at the cane and says, "Look on the side of it."
I do and see that "Navy Veteran" is painted on the cane's side in yellow-white paint. I smile and thank Natalie, wondering if this new cane is my "big" surprise, but it doesn't feel like it. I've never enjoyed surprises—not since The Incident—but something about this one intrigues me.
"You head on down to the ship," Natalie quips. "I need to meet with Tallulah to tie up some loose ends, but we'll be back soon."
"Okay," I respond. I bring my heels together to calm my growing excitement and nervousness. "I'll see you soon, Nat."
Natalie pulls out a few minutes after I say this, and I'm left alone in the parking lot.
I steady myself with my cane, turn, and head toward the pier, my eyes brightening when I see Yorktown. Is it just me, or does she look twice as majestic today as she did yesterday, with the morning sun shimmering over her?
I stop at the top of the pier, and that's when I notice something on my left that I've never seen before—another Quonset hut like the one in the Medal of Honor Museum. How have I missed this? It looks like Patriots Point has another attraction besides Yorktown and Laffey.
I step onto the path leading to the Quonset hut, and my eyes land on a sign hidden behind the gate. It reads "The Vietnam Experience". What is this place? It looks like a Vietnam War memorabilia that I somehow missed. Was I really so drowned in grief that I only paid attention to Yorktown and Laffey? I guess so. Patriots Point is full of surprises. I now wonder if they have a Korean War memorabilia, too.
I check my wristwatch and pop my bag higher on my shoulder. I still have a little time, so I might as well see this Vietnam Experience. Wow, I'm ninety-two years old and still as curious as I was when I was young. It's like I've finally rediscovered who I truly am.
The walk to the Vietnam Experience is short, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not a little tired when I reach the Quonset hut (partly because I didn't sleep very well last night). I brush it off and swing open the door, poking my head inside.
Display cases with Vietnam-era weapons and vehicles line the small hut in its center. I see a theater in the back and a timeline of Vietnam's history on my left. The best part is that it's air-conditioned here! That's great because it's been hot here in Charleston lately.
I don't know how long I stand in the doorway examining the memorabilia and sucking in the AC before someone taps my shoulder from behind. I turn with a slight jump and see Temple standing before me. "Temple!" I close the door and am now back in the hot and humid weather of the Deep South.
He looks amused and says, "So, you finally found the VNE? That's what we call the Vietnam Experience."
"Yes! Um… I guess so," I stutter. "Sorry, I was just about to sign in." How many times have I embarrassed myself before Temple now?
"Stop apologizing for being curious," he snaps in a friendly voice. "I'm just happy you're here, and you look much better than you did last time I saw you. Let me guess, you decided to keep the dog?"
"Ye-Yes," I respond, nodding. "Tha-Thank you, Temple."
He lifts an eyebrow. "Why are you thanking me? Natalie and Tallulah say they're very proud of you, and I am, too. I thought I would lose you for a moment there, Bill. If anyone, I should be thanking you."
"Why?" I cock my head.
Temple giggles and explains, "Well, you were the one who finally learned to express your grief and brought a new light to Patriots Point. And you helped me open up more about my daughter. So for that, thank you."
Is that a playful façade I see from him, not a toying one?
Temple clutches his elbow and waves me over with his other hand. "Come on, it's about time your shift started. I'll drive you. There's more to the VNE behind the Quonset hut if you want to check it out before the Fort Sumter tour later."
Oh, yeah. That's today. Moreover, I think I will check out the VNE after my shift ends today, but I need to get to the ship and replace Ted's flowers for now.
Temple drives me down in a white and black, six-pack golf cart with USS Yorktown on its side. Once we're in the Volunteer Lounge and I'm signed in, he approaches and hands me the key to the Education Cart. "I'd like to have you on the Education Cart today, Bill. Get yourself some more practice with it. I've already got it out for you; it's behind the Information Desk with the other Volunteers."
"Oh, okay," I say, accepting the cart key. "Even after that mishap last week?" What if my curiosity bests me again, and I abandon the Education Cart for a second time?
"That was only a warning," Temple elucidates. "Let's get you out of your comfort zone. Besides, I know you like the Plane Recognition cart."
That's true, and I did promise Natalie that I would continue healing at Patriots Point as a thank-you for letting me keep Teddy.
Considering this, I nod and tell Temple, "Okay, I'll practice more with the cart today. But I first want to switch out my flowers for Ted."
Temple waves his hand. "Then why are you still hanging out down here? Get up there, William Beckington. Oh, and I meant to say this at the VNE." He shoots me a genuine grin and motions at my new cane. "Cool new cane."
Now, it's my turn to show off my cheeky smile. "Thanks, Temple." I pause before adding, "Before I go up, I have a question I meant to ask you at the VNE, too."
"Shoot," Temple says. He sits at the round table, crosses his right leg over his left thigh, and taps the olive-green top.
I'm amazed at how cheerful he is today. Temple's one of those people who one always assumes is naturally serious, especially after losing a daughter on the USS Yorktown.
Regardless, I grip one of the table's chairs and question, "Is there a Korean War memorabilia here, too, like the VNE?"
"Ah." Temple snaps his fingers and slides to the edge of the chair. "Not… yet."
"Yet". He said "yet". Well, I think I know the "big" surprise now—a Korean War memorabilia for not only Ted and me but also all those other Korean War veterans that World War II and Vietnam War history have overrun. I wonder how Tallulah, Natalie, and Temple will present it?
I can't wait to find out.
***
I brought Ted a tulip bouquet with red, pink, and yellow flowers today. They look good beside his name, besides that one lone leaf slightly covering up the "n" in Eldon. Hopefully, Roosevelt doesn't mind that.
After switching out the flowers, I sit on the bench beside the memorial, the unopened Education Cart before me, and write a little in the notebook Temple gave me in the hospital. I noticed a small camera crew when I reached the Hangar Bay from the deck below. It's the first thing I write about because I'm curious if they're here to present the Korean War memorabilia. I need to act surprised when they approach me. I can do that, sure. Hopefully, that won't be for a while, though.
After ten minutes, I shut my notebook and put it and my pen on the Education Cart. Before standing with my snazzy new cane, I reach into my shirt and draw the locket. I polished it last night, and now I can see my reflection in the brass.
Opening the locket, I quietly study Ted and I's picture and nod, shutting it again. Then, standing, I roll the Education Cart to the Corsair and park it before it. I shudder a bit at seeing it but inhale to calm myself.
I can do this. It's just a Corsair.
Taking the Education Cart key Temple gave me, I unlock the cart and open the doors, pulling out the box with the plane models. There's one Avenger, Corsair, Dauntless, Hellcat, Helldiver, Val, Kate, Judy, and Zero. I line the planes out how I like them and draw the plastic Recognition Book next, placing it in the corner. I'm all set; I merely need to wait for people interested in World War II history, even though I smell a Korean War memorabilia around the corner.
I sit while I wait and observe the Corsair, saying, "Ted, I'm trying." I hope I won't get anxious around the Corsair one day, but I'm no longer losing my temper and swinging my cane at it, so that's progress.
My eyes roam, and I see the camera crew hovering around the Information Booth, waiting for a signal. That's what it looks like to me. Temple's also there, chatting with them.
When I get my first customers, I focus back on the cart and stand, smiling at the little boy in the crowd. "Would you like to play a guessing game?" I ask him, pointing at each of the airplanes. "Guess what these airplanes are."
I swear, this kid knows more than I did when I was his age. He guesses all the planes except the Judy and Helldiver. "Well done!" I say, giving him a high five.
He chuckles and waves, looking over his shoulder as he leaves with his parents. If only more kids were interested in history nowadays like him.
Another hour passes, and then I see a figure walking toward me from the Information Booth—Natalie. And is that… Teddy? It is! What's he doing here? Ah, it doesn't matter. I'm happy to see our dog. I'll call him the cherry on top of the memorabilia.
"Teddy!" I say, sitting back down on the bench.
Natalie stops before me and sets Teddy beside me.
He crawls onto my lap, stretches his neck, and licks my cheek, whining. His tail will fall off with how fast he's wagging it.
"I thought I'd bring him today," Natalie explains. "Temple says that once he's out of the cast, you can start bringing him here as an Emotional Support Animal."
"Really? Temple said that?" I question, and Natalie nods. "Oh, Natalie, thank you."
She lifts her finger. "That's not all. I'll be right back, Daddy. You spend time with Teddy."
My heart flips. It's time; it's time for the "big" surprise—the memorabilia. Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?
I can see that Natalie is, too. I hug Teddy when she turns and shuffles toward the Information Booth.
Another group of people approaches me soon after Natalie leaves. The children say, "Aw" to Teddy, but their parents hold them back and bring them to the cart.
Teddy remains on the bench, but I stand behind the cart and begin my lecture, gesturing at the Corsair. "I flew Corsairs in the Korean War. Would you guys like to learn how to tell a friend from a foe?"
"Yes, please," the children say, and their parents squeeze their shoulders.
This lecture is the smoothest one of all. I don't get nervous around the Corsair—because I'm already nervous about something else—and end up talking about Ted for an extra few minutes with the parents. "We joined the Navy when we were eighteen. World War II excited us so much that we couldn't wait to serve. I was the only one who returned, though."
"Oh, my gosh, we're sorry." The mother reaches for her lips.
"They deemed Ted Missing in Action, but I haven't seen him since," I explain. "However"—I bring out my locket and share the picture with the family—"I keep him close with this locket."
"You must've really loved him," the mother guesses, giving me a gentle smile.
"I did," I admit. "Ted was my best friend." Sniffing, I rub my eyes. "Sorry, I've just learned how to express my grief."
"It's okay," says the mother.
That's when one of her children tugs her arm and asks, "Mommy, what's grief?"
Her mother titters feebly and wraps her arm around her child. "It means this man lost someone he loved."
Right after she explains this, I hear Natalie. "Daddy?"
The family backs away and slips behind the camera crew, who have moved down the Hangar Bay and stand a few feet from me.
Great, now I'm just scared, but I keep myself together and turn toward Natalie's voice.
She and Temple are beside me, and Officer Nero's behind them. They move aside to reveal Tallulah holding onto a wheelchair.
An elderly man wearing a Valley Forge cap sits in the chair, his wrinkled hands on his thighs. He sports dark jeans, a black buckle, and a light blue collared shirt. Something about him—his demeanor, perhaps—feels familiar, and then Tallulah clutches his shoulders.
"William Beckington," she timidly says, glancing down at the man, "this is my father… Ted."
Ted? I freeze, and my eyes widen. What's Tallulah talking about? She said that her father… Wait, no, she didn't. She didn't say he died—only that he was severely injured. I just assumed he had died. But… this man can't be—!
When the man slowly stands and pulls out a brass locket from his shirt, my eyes widen further.
Tallulah looks at him lovingly and says, "It's okay, Dad."
I redraw my own locket, and the man and I carefully approach one another. I already feel tears prickling behind my eyes. This man can't be—!
We open our lockets together, and sure enough, each carries the same photo of when Ted and I started our service: two young men eager to head off to war, unaware of the scars it leaves on people.
Is this for real? But I thought—! I mean, I shot Ted down. Is what is happening now really a Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo moment?
The man and I lower our lockets and meet eyes. The man's are blueberry blue, the same color as my Ted. It's him; it's really him. Only Theodore Eldon has eyes like these.
Everything makes sense now—why Tallulah was so interested in learning about Ted, and why Natalie was eager to help.
Tears flow down my cheeks, and I shakily ask the man, "Roosevelt?"
He gently takes my shoulders, his blueberry blue eyes sparkling, but I see tears in them, too. "Cheeky," he confesses.
I sob, drop my cane, and embrace him. Flashbacks from our childhood, young adulthood, and service dance through my mind. I don't see the dogfight anymore—only Ted.
I release him briefly and grasp his hands, whimpering, "I-I thought I lost you." My grip tightens, and Ted returns it.
"As I said in the brig that day, Cheeky," he whispers in my ear, "you can't get rid of me that easily."
I sob again and hug him for a second time, closing my eyes.
A round of applause and cheers erupt around us in Yorktown's Hangar Bay, and I hear the shutter click from the camera crew. This is the best "big" surprise I've ever had. I can't believe how far off I was.
I open my eyes and see that Temple has come between Natalie and Tallulah. He rests a hand on their shoulders, and the two girls glance at him individually.
Teddy hops down from the bench and hobbles to Natalie, resting against her. She pats his head, and Teddy kisses her hand.
I don't know what's next for me at Patriots Point, but what I do know is that I can finally tell Ted that I accept his confession. I may never know how this happened, but that's not important now. What's important is that I have my friend back, and while it took me seventy emotionless years to realize it, I finally know who I am.
I am Cheeky, the best friend of Theodore Eldon, and this is my story.
End of Act III: The Lazarus Effect
Final Word Count: 51,570