Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea: A Novel by André Lewis Carter

Author:André Lewis Carter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Akashic Books
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“WELL, LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE going to make it through, shit-bird.” The pasty-faced senior chief petty officer, or SCPO for short, flicked ash from his cigarette into a wastebasket as he eyed the former Mr. Mike, who sat squeezed into an elementary school chair. He went by “maggot” nowadays, but at graduation would be christened “Seaman Recruit Dominar.” He had held on long enough to graduate from this place he dubbed a hellhole.

The SCPO was from the detailing shop in DC and had made a special trip to the Great Lakes to process orders for “special” residents like the former Mr. Mike. He wore pressed khakis and had a pudgy face that just ached to be smushed. But today was not the day.

As the detailer sipped from a cold cup of coffee, the recruit stared at the chief impassively, his eyes almost glazed over. It was a look the former Mr. Mike started wearing after he was written up for fighting for the third time. Not that it was much of a fight. Boots could be a devastating weapon.

The other recruits thought it was hilarious that his middle name was Maria, not caring that it was a sign of respect for the Virgin Mary. Of course, that didn’t really matter to him. The former Mr. Mike simply wasn’t going to take any unnecessary shit from anybody. He had to bite his tongue when the drill instructor barked at him, but he was damned if he was taking it from anyone else.

The three guys he’d put in the hospital were just punks, but he had to set an example. As punishment he was set back two weeks and stripped of all chances for a night off base. He was watched every second. One slip more and he would be shipped to the brig to await transport back home for trial and sentencing. He had no illusions that he might be found innocent.

But the beatings had instilled the appropriate amount of fear. The recruits in his new company gave him a wide berth. Even the new drill instructor seemed to take it easier on him. The maggot Mike figured the navy must be hard up for fresh meat.

The detailer opened a folder with his stubby fingers, tracing down the right page. He smiled after finding the listing he was searching for. He grinned at the recruit; it was not a pleasant look. “So, what were you thinking about doing, kid?”

“You mean I actually get a choice?”

“Hey, anybody can dream.”

The soon-to-be seaman recruit had paid attention in every class, including orientation to job opportunities. “Well, I’d like to get a school. So I can have a trade when I get out.”

The SCPO took a drag from what was left of his filter-less cigarette, and flicked the stub into the can. “Not going to be a career man, eh? That’s okay. It takes all types, even punks like you.” He dumped a new cancer stick onto the desk and dug in his pocket, pulling out a disposable Bic.

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