Chapter 12 Starting Over, (I wish I didn't know now what I didn't known yesterday!)

I wish to thank Art M. for his editorial assistance.

After about four hours sleep, Porter went into work for his half day.  'Soon I'll be off and I'll be able to think this stuff through.'  Thought Porter.

There was no veil.  No fancy acting would convince anyone in S-2 Division that the events of the last few days never happened.  Somehow everyone knew what had happened.  Up to this point no one besides Sheridan, no one else, had stepped into the open.  Porter worked really hard trying to make up for his lack of having a mind the day
before.

Porter went into S-2 division berthing area, sat down and lit up a cigarette after he got off work.  Porter wasn't under the influence of any drugs at the time.  There were three others in the lounge, Tony Juarez, John Drew, and Joe Cardosia.  "I have two tickets to Paradise," Drew said.

Porter looked at him with skeptical eyes.  Porter knew Drew as he'd been in his class in A school, but he really didn't know anything about him.  As far as Porter knew, he didn't drink, smoke, or do drugs.  He kept to himself and spent most of his free time reading.  He was a very neat and clean person.  He was everything Porter wasn't and this was the first time he'd ever said anything to him.  "What do you know about it?  What do you know about paradise?"  Porter asked Drew.

"I represent number two."  This made Porter nervous for many reasons.  First and most importantly he wasn't high on drugs and yet the trip hadn't stopped.  He still hadn't tried to think of the results of his whole division knowing (somehow) the events of the last two days.  Also, if he understood Drew correctly, he was claming to represent the Holy Spirit, a very powerful supernatural being.  "I wouldn't have chosen you.  You're a slob, un-teachable, and an incorrigible drug addict."

"I represent number one," announced Tony Juarez.  Porter looked at him skeptically too.  Then he turned his attention to Cardosia and he saw the devil.

"You must work for the other side," Porter said.

"That's right," said Cardosia.

"You need to look at yourself in the mirror and decide whether or not you like what you see."  Said Juarez.

"Don't worry, it will be high on my list as soon as I get a few minutes to myself."  Porter Replied.  "What's your role in all of this?"  Porter asked Cardosia.

"I'm under authority, just like you."  At that moment several people walked into the compartment breaking the mood.  Porter was glad, as dealing with God in the abstract was one thing, but dealing with the God Head in the 'here and now' was another thing all together!

Porter went up to the flight deck and saw yet another beautiful day.  'This thing isn't going away.  Perhaps I died or I'm in a coma.  This can't be happening.  I need advice. I need spiritual advice.  Perhaps the ship's Chaplain will understand.'  Porter was on a mission.  He found Art and told him his plan to talk to the ship's Chaplain.  Art didn't think it could hurt to talk to someone, so Porter went up to the Chaplain's office.

He learned that the ship had both a Protestant and a Catholic Chaplain.  Porter asked to talk with the Protestant Chaplain but he wouldn't be available until the next day.  Porter decided to try talking to the Catholic Chaplain.  Porter tried to explain what he was going through but he was vague and abstract and had a hard time expressing himself. (Kind of like chapter 10!) Everything Porter was trying to say went right over his head.  He recommended that Porter talk with the Protestant Chaplain the next day, which Porter did.  The Protestant Chaplain also didn't understand anything Porter was talking about and recommended that he try the Catholic Chaplain.  The fact that his friend, Art Heinz, made better counsel then professional clergy bothered Porter for years. It would be many years before he talked with clergy who did understand him.  There is no question the result of the two meetings was for the federal government to make a red mark next to Porter's name.

Porter and Heinz ended up having the next day off together.  While getting ready, another guy from their A School class asked if he could come along.  His name was Rick Thomas and he was another quiet guy.  He'd never gone anywhere with Porter and Heinz before.  He made it clear that he also knew everything that had happened the past few days.

Porter was in a bubbly mood.  The sky was bluer; the air smelt better, colors were brighter.  He was enjoying nirvana.  It would be some time before he felt the height of the world on his shoulders.  After some very high level mind blowing discussion about the veil of life being thin and other concept of death, Heinz decided to mess with Thomas’s head and do something outrageous.  He put his arm around Thomas and acted like he was coming on to him.  Thomas blushed!  This was unexpected.  The guy was outed.  He became extremely embarrassed and withdrawn after that.

The next day Thomas went UA and was never seen again.  Porter heard a rumor three months later from Drew that Thomas had gone to a Navy psychiatric ward in San Francisco and ended up killing himself.  Porter reasoned that Thomas had told the government everything he knew about the events that took place in those days and figured that the government would blame him for his death.  He was right!  The government did blame him, and in a way he was responsible!

Tuesday, September 5, 1978

Wilson had his duffel bag packed and was ready to leave the Navy forever.  Before he left, he wanted to hear one more song.  He put in a tape and played 'Jamie's 'Crying' by Van Halen.  After that, he picked up his duffel and left the compartment for the last time.

"Porter, Chief Hicks wants to see you in his office right away."  Said FCPO Mirallas.

Porter walked across the hall to SCPO Hicks' office and knocked on the door.  "Come in," said Hicks.

"What can I do for you, Chief?" replied Porter.

"A couple of things, First, I need to send you to fire fighting school.  It's a two-day training session and it's here on the Base.  It's a ways from here so you will be assigned a base BEQ for a day.  The training will take place September 13th and 14th."

'That's my parents' birthday,' Porter thought.  "After fire fighting school, you'll be assigned a repair locker as we'll be going out to sea for a few days this month and general quarters drills will be part of the routine out at sea."

"The second thing is, I have an opening in the bakery with Wilson leaving.  Your hard work has been noticed the last two months and I think you could do a good job in the bakery.  You'll have three mess cooks working for you and mostly you'll supervise them for serving baked goods and cleanup."

"Next, there is the issue of your rate.  Apparently, you reached your six months in the Navy two months ago and you still haven't put in a request chit for E-2.  I want you to put in a request chit by tomorrow and I'll sign it and pass it on.  The only requirement for E-2 is to have six months, so it will be approved.  This will only mean more money for you."

Wednesday, September 6, 1978

Porter put in a request for E-2.

Porter and Heinz went walking on Coronado Island. They walked past a church and noticed that there was a service about to start.  "I'll go check it out, Heinz.  Perhaps it will be interesting.  They went in and found that there was a youth group.  After a short service they went a few blocks to the house of one of the members of the youth group and hung out. Porter and Heinz were the center of attention and it was apparent to both of them that several members of this group knew them.  It was a good time for Porter to relate with other teenagers that weren't in the Navy.

Later that night Porter and Heinz talked while sitting on the flight deck.  "Heinz, I shouldn't be in the Navy!  I'm only here because I ran away from my problems.  I should have finished High School and gone on to college.  I ran away from my problems and joined the Navy.  There is no way I'm going to be able to quit drinking, smoking, getting high, and doing drugs while I'm in the Navy!"

"You can always tell them you're a fag.  That will get you out."  Heinz said as if implying that Porter had left something off his list.

"It's not that simple, Heinz, one has to actually get caught in the act.  Besides, I wouldn't want that following me around the rest of my life."

"Getting caught shouldn't be a problem, not getting caught could be difficult."

"Quit messing with me, Heinz, just because you know every aspect of my life.  I'm trying to have a serious conversation here!"

"If you get out of the Navy you'll still be quitting, Porter, you'll still be running away! You need to quit quitting!"

"That's true, but at least I won't be wasting the next three and a half years!  I now see this experience as a race, and I've missed the starting gun!  I have to learn as much as I can as quick as I can.  My High School class is starting college right now and I haven't even finished High School.  I'm not even sure that I have good enough basic skills to pass college level classes, but I have to try.  I have to prepare myself.  With the right goals, we can create our own heaven on earth.  I see no future for me in the Navy.  The Senior Chief is being too nice to me right now and it makes me nervous.  Everyone in the compartment is avoiding me except Mullens and that Tony Juarez.  Both seem to want to take me under their wing.  I'm going to go with the flow for a while but should the opportunity arise, I'm out of here."

Thursday, September 7, 1978

Porter was to start in the bakery at noon and his head was about three sizes too big for his hat.  'I'm only an E-1 and I'm going to be doing the same job as E-4 was doing.  I'm going to have E-3's working for me!'  Porter got his lunch and sat down with Rick Escondila and Erik Gonzalas, a friend of his.

"Who said you can sit down with us," snapped Gonzalas.

"He's a friend of mine," said Escondila.  "He can sit with me any time he likes. Hey Porter, are you doing all right?"

"I'm doing better.  Things are starting to fall into place."

"Fall into place," snapped Gonzalas.  "I don't know who you think you are, but I can tell you this, you're nothing to me.  You see I don't believe in God and all this BS I've seen and heard the last few days.  What happened to Thomas?  What kind of poison did you feed him?"

"I don't know where Thomas is, and you never seemed to care much about him when he was here anyway!  As far as this other stuff," Porter said while making peace signs with both hands and bending his fingers.  "At this point none of it has really been confirmed except for the fact that everyone is talking.  I'll give you this Gonzalas; at least you have the balls to confront me about it.  What I believe or don't believe is really my own business."

"This is what I believe," replied Gonzalas.  "Some day doctors are going to open up your skull and find a deep fat fryer with your brain frying away.  They could take a blood sample from you and shoot up a junkie and keep him happy for a week.  I don't believe in God and I don't believe in you, whoever you think you are!  If there is a God, he must be a sadist or have a really sick sense of humor.  How can he sit back and watch all the suffering going on in the world.  He must get off on it."  Escondila was looking kind of embarrassed listening to his friend but didn't say anything.  "You just better hope I never run into you off this ship because I'm going to kick your ass!"

"I look at it this way," replied Porter calmly.  "If I'm right, you're in trouble, and if I'm wrong, you're still in trouble because you are about the most negative person I've met so far.  As far as kicking my ass goes, you're not much bigger then me and your mouth is writing checks your body isn't capable of cashing."  Porter stood up to Gonzalas and at the same time the first brick was laid for a wall that would keep anyone from hurting Porter in this way again.

After lunch Porter started in the Bakery.  The most interesting of his mess cranks (cooks) was a man whose name was John Connelly.  He looked like a college quarterback.  He was an E-3 and even though he outranked Porter, Porter was now his boss.  His afternoon went quickly and soon Porter got off for the day.  Porter went up to Cardosia, who had just gotten off for the day too. "Joe, want to go up to the flight deck and smoke a joint with me?"

"Sure Porter, I'll smoke with you."  Porter and Cardosia went up to the back end of the flight deck and Porter smoked the joint with Cardosia.

"So," said Porter, "In the compartment the other day, when I looked at you I saw the Devil.  What's up with that?"

"Lets just say that I'm kind of using this body right now.  And yes, you did see right."

"What's your game?"

"The same as yours, this world is my dream come true.  It's what makes me happy.  As you have figured out, God is capable of making everyone's dreams come true.  You want to make your dream world, well this one is mine!"

"That sounds reasonable, you said something about being under authority, like me?"

"That's true, I can't make a move without permission.  Speaking of which, I don't know why you are picking on my people, I'm not sending my people after you."

"You mean Gonzalas? He started it. I know he's simple minded, but he needs to take care as to who he threatens," replied Porter. "So," changing the subject, "what you're telling me is that you are just as much a part of the big picture as I am."

"Actually, we have the same authority.  Both of us are going to have our shot at running this world and then we'll fight over it.  It's about us and them.  Eternity would be boring without me.  I'm the life of the party."

"If you say so"

"You still don't get it, Porter, do you?  You're not serving God right now, you're serving me.  We might have the same power, but if you're under my control, who really has the power?  The only reason that you were shown all these things was to keep you from falling completely under my control.  Things are going to happen that you have no control over. Even though you will think it's you making the decisions, it won't be your decisions. You're just a lump of clay."

"It seems to me that no matter what I do I'm being controlled.  Think about it, we could have had this same conversation hundreds, thousands, even millions of times. I must say that it has been interesting hearing your point of view on things."

"Anytime Porter."

'That was weird,' Porter thought as he made his way back into the berthing compartment.  He ran into Mullens and said, "kick-out a cigarette Porter."  Porter handed him a cigarette and said, "How about one for the ear?"  Porter handed him another and Mullens stuck it
behind his ear.  "How about one for the other ear?"  So Porter handed him one more cigarette, which he placed behind his other ear.

Porter laid down in his rack and fell asleep.

Friday, September 8, 1978

Porter was shaken awake at 0500 hrs in the morning buy Second Class Petty Officer Marquez who was the night baker.  He prepared most of the baked goods for the serving line the next day.  Porter got up and dressed.  He went into the bakery and Marquez showed him a bunch of sheet pans of cake.  "Make frosting, lunch," said Marquez pointing.  His words were barely understandable.  Then he walked over to a bunch of 2" insert pans filled with Jell-O.  "Cube, whipped topping, bowl," said Marquez who went over to a reach-in freezer and pulled out a plastic bag filled with whipped topping, shaped like a funnel with a star tip sticking out the end of the bag.  Even though Marquez could hardly speak any English, he was able to express himself.

There was no daytime boss for the bakery except Senior Chief Hicks.  It was Porter's choice as to what needed to be done.  He looked up a recipe for frosting.  Connelly wandered in, "Connelly, good morning.  Open up some cans of fruit cocktail and put a 4oz ration in every bowl and put it out along with some breads for toast."

"Ok, but I can't even get into the bread room.  It's stuffed right to the door."

"Do your best!" The day before, Porter had looked at the bread room and scratched his head. Wilson had let it go to hell. The bread room was eight feet wide by 12 feet long and had racks on either side to hold loaves of bread. Bread came in boxes of 12 loafs per box.   They stocked a variety of breads. The bread hadn't been rotated.  The Isle between the bread racks was stuffed to the overhead with boxes. You could hardly even see the bread racks on either side or close the door.

Porter put the ingredients in a 120-quart mixer and prepared the frosting. Then he quickly iced the sheet cakes and cut them. He had a tool that had 8 knives attached to one bar and another with 4 that he could use to cut sheet pans into rations in one swift motion.  His other two mess cranks had shown up and, while two of them served the bakery end of the breakfast serving line, Porter had the other one help him finish off the deserts for the rest of the day.

"This is want I want to do Connelly, now that we are caught up, I want to clean out the bread room!"

"You're the boss.  How do you want to do it?"

"I want to pull every loaf of bread out of there and then clean it up.  As we pull the bread out, I want to decide whether or not it's any good.  The boxes right next to the door should be the freshest.  Everything else we are going to trash."

The men started on the bread room.  After breakfast, the other two mess cooks helped Porter and Connelly.  They got busy again at lunchtime but resumed the cleanup later that afternoon.  Tony Juarez walked by.  "I've been waiting to see how long it would take before someone decided to clean up that bread room Porter, and I'm impressed.  Your first day here and you're taking initiative.  You can still come work for me in the forward galley if you want."

"I told you Juarez, I want to work in the bakery.  I don't plan on leaving here anytime soon."  Porter and his team finished the bread room that day.  At 1930 hrs the bakery was inspected and after cleaning a few more things, they were allowed to leave for the day.  Porter was able to hook up with Heinz.  They went to the small park that overlooked the bay.  It was about a 45-minute walk from the ship, which they could also see from where they were sitting.  Porter was counting the cuts on his hands.  I count 17 cuts, Heinz.  How many do you have from you duty as a steward?  Not a single one I bet.  When you come to work for me in the bakery, one day we'll be sitting here, and you'll be counting the cuts on your hands!"

"How am I going to end up working for you, Porter?"

"As a steward you told me that you have to spend time as a mess crank on the mess decks just like everyone else.  Well, you're going to be assigned to me in the bakery and you're going to work!"

"And how do you know all this, Porter?"

"I don't.  I'm not some kind of prophet.  I don't know the future.  I'm speaking words of faith.  If you speak of things that aren't as if they are, and if what God is telling me is true there can be no question that you will indeed come work for me."

"Why don't you just ask for a million dollars, Porter?"

"Money is temporary, Heinz, I'm into eternal things right now.  I used to think I was stuck in a year.  Now I know anything can and will happen.  But you have to have faith.  You have to speak the words. It will happen."

"You see, Heinz, I feel like I'm three months old.  It's like three months ago when all these concepts started popping into my head that life began again for me.  Everything looks so different now.  It's like starting over.  Everyone is treating me differently.  Even Tony Juarez said something nice to me today.  Most of the time he's telling me to look in the mirror, and asks me, if I like what I see."

"I'm still not totally following you Porter, you're only three months old?"

"It's hard to describe just how I feel, Heinz.  I feel like the child that was Bill died and Porter has taken his place.  I'm at least twice as knowledgeable as I was only a week ago.  I know that if I speak the words, 'you'll come work for me’ it will happen.  Six months ago I didn't have confidence that I would even finish boot camp.  Everyday is a new adventure with different challenges.  You have to understand something, Heinz. I just assume that what we have gone through is a natural thing that everyone must go through someday.  We're not really adults yet, we're babies at being adults.  You're older then me so you must be like three years old, as an adult.  You follow me now, Heinz?"

"Yes, with adulthood comes new responsibilities and decisions.  I understand that but I never looked at it that way before.  Perhaps you're right Porter.  Perhaps another type of experience does begin at 18.  With the events of the last week certainly your life has."