The Merchant Marines

Section Three- No ID? No problem.

*If you’re new to this short story, you might wanna read Sections One & Two before continuing below.

Section Three

Joe searched the room for his friend as he entered class; but when roll was called, Jack’s name wasn’t. Then, the teacher announced that Jack would be serving his country in the US Navy, and the room full of Joe’s peers erupted with excitement! Joe tried to pretend he was happy as well, but he wasn’t. He wanted to ask Jack again; he needed to know if you really could enlist without proof of age? But unfortunately he would have to wait. He probably wouldn’t see Jack on his ice route today either, the station usually only took ice every other day. As the morning wore on, Joe found it increasingly difficult to attend to his studies. So when class was finally dismissed for lunch, he left school to find his friend.

Jack was at the filling station when walked up. He was polishing the windshield of a clean new Lincoln Continental as Joe approached him.

“Ain’t you supposed to be in school kid?” Jack joked.

“I ain’t no kid,” Joe snapped back.

“Easy there, I’m just kidding ya,” Jack said with a laugh. “Ain’t this a real beauty?”

“Yeah sure, it’s real fine.”

“I might just get me one of these, Joey ole pal, when I get back from whip’n up on the enemy.”

“Is it true what you said?” Joe asked. “You know, about not having to show any papers?”

“Yeah sure,” Jack said. “You just go up there, and give them your name and birth date. You just write it down in a book, then they give you one of these.” Jack handed him a folded up piece of paper. It was an official Navy letter that said Jack was to report for duty on July the first.

“I’m going with you,” Joe decided right then.

“I knew you were going to say that. Look Joey…”

“No Jack! I’m going down to the Navy office right now to sign up. Unless you think you can stop me?”

“I don’t want to stop you Joe, I’d be glad to have you along. I was just going to say that, that I’ve been kind of putting on ya know. Truth is, I’m afraid Joey.” A well dressed businessman exited the station and paid Jack before pulling off in his luxurious new car.

“Well I’m going with you Jack. I’m heading down there right now so that I can get back to the ice warehouse by two-o'clock. Pop will be expecting me, and it’s more than three miles each way.”

---

What Jack said had turned out to be right. Joe hadn’t needed any kind of identification to join the Navy. He’d entered the building and walked right up to the table with the two men in uniform sitting neatly behind it. He’d then announced, “I’m here to join the US Navy,” and the Midshipmen slid the book over to him and handed him a pen. Joe wrote his full name down, Charles Joseph Adams Jr., along with his birth date, minus two years into the book. The uniformed officers had then stood and welcomed him aboard by shaking his hand. When he left, he held the same piece of paper as Jack. He had to report in Savannah on July the first, just two weeks away.

It was five after two-o’clock when Joe ran through the ice warehouse’s gate. Joseph Sr. was waiting on him at the truck when he arrived.

“Where you been, boy?” His father scolded.

“I… I was just running a little bit behind,” He stammered, trying to catch his breath.

Pop didn't acknowledge the excuse. He just told Joe to “get on in” and they pulled out of the lot. Pop had already loaded all six cubes. Joe felt bad but didn’t apologize again, he knew that Pop wouldn’t want his sorrys. He rode along quietly in the front seat, there were no cold Coca-Colas to sell this time. He wanted to tell Pop what he’d done. But he figured there’d be hell to pay, and wasn’t looking forward to that. They’d made three of the six ice deliveries, and each time Joe’d gotten back into the front of the truck with his father.

“What is it, Son?” Pop asked after the third delivery. “You’ve got something on your mind.” Joe reluctantly took the piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to his father. Pop unfolded it, took a quick look and handed it back to him. “Hmm. Hell boy, you know I can't read. What’s it say?”

“It…it says I’m in the US Navy Pop.”

“Hell I ain’t stupid son, I seen the top of it.” Joe looked at the top of the paper in his hand, it said U.S. NAVY in large print, and had an anchor in the middle. “When does it say you’re leaving?”

Joe was dumbfounded by his fathers reaction. “It, it says I have to be at the port in Savannah on July the first.”

“Hmm. Alright then,” Pop said after a pause. “Let’s jess keep this to ourself for now. There ain’t no reason in get’n ya Ma all fired up jess yet. Nope, she ain’t gone like this one bit,” Pop shook his head. “Nope, not one bit.”

They delivered the next three cubes without any further discussion of the matter. Joe had been surprised, completely caught off guard by his father’s response. It was almost like he’d know all along. Once the deliveries were done, Joe decided not to go back to the station to give Jack the news. Instead, he went to The Falls and sat on the ledge about halfway up. The cool mist of the waterfall was a welcome relief from the blistering Georgia heat. As he sat there untangling the day's events, Joe decided that Pop’s reaction was a sign from God that he’d done the right thing by signing up. When the sun finally reached the top of the trees, he figured he’d better head on home for supper. Bubba met him in the yard as usual, and he dragged him inside hanging on his leg like a little monkey. Joe went into the washroom and washed his face and hands, then instructed his brothers to do the same; he helped his mama set the table, all while he joked and cut up with his little brothers. Joe said the blessing, and helped his mama clean up afterwards too. He didn’t hear his father come in that night. He must’ve fallen asleep to the chorus of crickets and sleeping boys. He dreamed of ships, planes, and big waves that night; of uniformed men and of papers, there were lots and lots of papers.

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned, the Final Section of Joe’s story will be published this Sunday. I’d love to hear what you think in the comments.

The Southern Copywriter chat is also available to paid subscribers. For just 5$ per month you gain access to further discussion with me through the chat, plus full access to all archived articles and essays.