Transitions by Mike Hormek - HTML preview

Chapter 3

The last two years on the reservation cemented the course I would take for the rest of my life.

My character's transition was slow and sometimes painful. I call it a "graceful degradation."

I had to work outside our ranch, as I quit high school and wished to be self-supporting. Re -

member the alcoholic, Iver? Well, I went to work for his brother, Bobby Jo. They had separate farms given to them by their father, Joe Sr., a neighbor and longtime friend of my Dad's. Bobby Jo was seven years my senior. He was a rowdy guy who stood six feet tall, had blonde wavy hair, and was a blue-eyed Norwegian. Bobby Jo was a real ladies' man, always having women in his arms. We became good friends even though he was seven years my senior. Our relationship was a good news story, but it was a bad news story. On the one hand, he was a good mentor, but on the other, his behavior had a bad influence on me.

His father had a homestead near my Dad's. When my Dad was around fifty years old, Joe Sr.

told me he had not heard from him for a while. When he found him, he was in bed. Joe Sr. took him to a hospital. Turns out he had pneumonia and a double hernia. He was a tough guy.

I will not divulge everything we did, but much is worth mentioning. Bobby Jo did not have the alcohol problem his brother had, but he liked to drink and fight, which would eventually lead to his demise. He had been recently discharged from the Army, serving in Germany during the Korean War.

He told me about the effort it took to enlist. He was working on a house in his Dad's place when he fell off the roof and broke his shoulder. The doctors had to add some pins to fix it. It was one of the first of its kind in the nation. I saw kind of a hole there. When in Germany, he took 35 mm films of the countryside. He also took separate films of strippers and other exotic episodes. At some point, he had a show for his parents and friends. Now, you have to understand the religious nature of his parents. Joe Sr. was stoic, while his mother was nervous, always moving, with a heavy Norwegian accent. On the day of the viewing, he arrived. The scenery film went well, and everyone was interested. When the first tape finished, he put the second tape in. The tapes mislabeled. To the astonishment and surprise of ev -

eryone involved, the wrong film started showing. He immediately shut it down and made his apologies.

I am sure that was his most embarrassing moment.

Teenage drinking was wide open at the time. If the bartenders knew you and you were responsible, they would serve you, so partying was not a big deal, and it was frequent. I participated out of sheer boredom, although Bobby Jo watched for me like a hawk.

One Saturday afternoon, I was wrapping up my day on his farm. He generally paid me on Saturday, so I would have money to go to town. He did not show up, so I went to town to find him, about a seven-mile drive. The highway entrance to town had a sharp, 90-degree turn with a large tree. The car lodged against the tree with the front end wrapped around it. He hit the windshield and broke it. The headliner was bloody from blood gushing out. He was nowhere around in the local hospital. I started checking the bars and found him seated, drinking a straight whiskey with a bloody head. I asked the bartender.

"Did you call the hospital?"

"He did not want me to," he said. "So I convinced him to go. I took him to get sewed up."

I did not get paid that day.

During the Rodeos, there were sideshows. One was called "Hacha Hilton, the Last of the Red Hot Mamas." On a night out, we ran into her and her entourage. Bobby Jo ran into her in a bar. This bar was close to our place, around seven miles from town. Located in a cellar, it was an underground building around three feet above ground with windows, which was great for cooling in summer and heating in winter. I waited in the car while Bobby Jo went in for some beer. After some time, he came out.

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Their vehicle happened to be next to ours. A disagreement occurred between Bobby Jo and her bodyguards. They followed him out and proceeded to hit him with a sap. As he went down, I got out of the car to help.

"Get the hell back in the car," Bobby Jo yelled. Simultaneously, I went around the other side of the vehicle. The bodyguard grabbed me and said as he opened the car trunk.

"I would not do anything stupid," he said.

The trunk was full of guns. I did not say a word.

Bobby Jo liked Indian girls, but I have never dated one. We worked on the homestead at times.

There was a small bunkhouse on site that was small but comfortable. Bobby Jo brought Indian girls, of course, of age, for companionship, sometimes three or more at a time. They would party heartily. I was driving a tractor one day, and Bobby Jo was in the house partying with three Indian girls. So I relieved him for lunch, and his parents brought replacement supplies. I was eating at the table. The girls were sitting on the couch, drinking a beer. When they walked in, their eyes got big.

"Where is Bobby Jo?" they asked.

"In the field," I said.

They scowled and left. When I returned to relieve Bobby Jo, I said, "Your parents came by."

"What did they say?" he asked.

"They just scowled and left."

I hope they did not think I was with the girls. That was my second most embarrassing moment; on second thought, maybe the first.

He told me a sad but true story, and I have no comments or opinions. He picked up a girl for a date. He noticed her dress was dirty but did not comment. She volunteered that her dress was dirty at some point and asked if he could take her home to change. When she came out, the dress was messier than the one she had on. Bobby Jo thought it was funny; I thought it was sad. I learned a lot from Bobby Jo, mostly what not to do in life. Another time, he had a date and went to her house to pick her up.

"I am not feeling well, but my mother will go out with you."

She came to the door.

She weighed around 400 pounds.

"Did you take her out?" I asked.

"Sure did," he said. I asked no more questions.

There was a pink house with a red light in town. The girls would rotate in and out. Bobby Jo dated one of those girls. She was a tall, skinny girl with a dark complexion and black hair. She had a temper. On one occasion, Bobby Jo was in a bar with another Indian girl. She walked in and saw them, and all hell broke loose. She grabbed the girl by the hair, pulled her to the floor, dragged her out into the street, and kicked her. Bobby Jo did not move off the bar stool. She returned and told him, "If I ever see you again with a tribe member, I'll cut it off."

I think he got the message. Some of my friends and I were on a dare in my teenage years. Un -

fortunately, I won the dare in a lottery. We drove up to the pink house. The dare was to knock on the door and ask to come in. So I walked up to the door and knocked. I was only around four feet eleven at the time. The door opened. What do you want? I did not see anyone through the peephole.

“Can I can come in?”

"Go home to Momma, Sonny."

That hurt my feelings, but I completed the dare.

The last time I saw Bobby Jo was after I graduated from college. I was visiting my Dad and mother. I knocked on his door, and he came out. He was holding an electrolarynx device to his throat.

"What happened, I asked?"

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"An undercover cop karate chopped me in the throat; I was in jail, left for dead. I was in a wheelchair for a year."

"Are you going to get him?"

"I don't know."

That was the last time I saw Bobby Jo. I have to admit that had it not been for Bobby Jo's be -

havior and subsequent demise, my life might still be working on a ranch somewhere in Montana, rav-aged by alcoholism. I entirely credit my transition from a life of degradation to one of success to Bobby Jo, if even by default.

Although I became dependent on alcohol, I went to work on a seismograph crew surveying for oil. My alcohol consumption was taking a toll on me both physically and mentally. I knew I had to leave the reservation or face the same fate as Ivy and some of the others who drank themselves into a state of degradation. If I were to make a transition, I would have to do it soon. Our crew started in Montana, but we eventually were sent to Colorado. We worked on a mountaintop in a place called Nu-cla. It was in the coldest part of the winter, around the middle of January. I remember a stretch of 40 below-zero weather for seven days straight. The surveyor came down from Alaska and was used to the cold. I never got used to the cold. I shook while holding the surveying rod. Most times, I worked hung over.

“Hold the rod still.” he said.

I knew I had to get out of there. A Navy recruiter had been bugging me about joining up, so I called him and asked.

"If I get to Butte on Monday, how soon can you get me to San Diego?"

"If you get here Monday, I can get you to California by the end of the week,"

I called my Dad and asked if he could have someone come and get my car because I was joining up and would not be home for three months. He said he would. I was in San Diego for seven days. Boy, the heat was incredible. I spent six years in Navy electronics, scored in the top ten percentile in college aptitude tests, and received engineering degrees. I credit the nuns in Catholic school for teaching me something. I learned little in high school due to a lack of interest.

My Dad did everything he could to get me back on the reservation. He even built me my own house. I never went back. “Laissez les bon temps roulez!

The end

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THE OLD MAN AND THE BAY

(Based on actual events.)

On Wednesday, September 16, 2020, at 4:45 am, Hurricane Sally landed near Gulf Shores, Alabama. Two deaths resulted from the storm. One person, Fred, was a personal friend of mine. The other was a girlfriend of a friend of mine.

Fred grew up on a farm near Elberta, Alabama, with his father. They grew crops such as beans, cotton, and peanuts sprayed with Paraquat, a herbicide.

"Mike, I would come in at night, and my clothes would be chemically saturated," he said.

In later years, it became known that Paraquat might be responsible for Parkinson's disease.

Fred's parents subsequently were both killed in a car accident near the farm while Fred was still there. A doctor who I met who lived across the road told me once he was the first one on the scene, and they did not survive the crash. Fred left the farm and made his way as a manufacturer of pallets in Louisiana. He eventually married, sired two boys and a girl, and moved back to his home place after a divorce and retirement.

I met Fred at a community club in Lillian, Alabama, in 2018, shortly after my wife died. He was shaking badly as a result of Parkison's disease.

“I have tried all the common medicines for Parkison's, and they knock me on my ass."

I concur with that. I would often visit, but Fred could not get off the couch. I carried him to stores to purchase CBD, which did no good, nor did smoking joints.

Fred and I became good friends, having frequent shrimp and crawfish boils. His cousin, a licensed marine captain, conducted most of the boils.

The cousin told a strange story. "I had stomach surgery and was pronounced dead on the table.

After a short time, I sat up and said, "What's going on?"

From then on, he wore a colostomy bag and attended church regularly.

Fred purchased a wooden Chris-Craft boat that was a fixer-upper. I helped him with many electrical and generator issues. The ship was a hole in the water that money poured in and disappeared.

His shaking prevented him from normal maintenance activities. His goal was to fix up the boat, and he hired his cousin to do the maintenance, although progress could have been faster.

Fred loved the boat. It was his baby.

He did not have serious relationships. He suffered from a case of erectile dysfunction. He called me.

“Look, I have a girlfriend in Pensacola. I shoot myself before she arrives to be able to perform. I did that, but she did not show up, and I have a problem. What should I do?”

I did not have an answer. “Are you joking?”

On his farm, Fred hunted deer regularly, and I helped him put out feed corn. My favorite spot was in an oak grove—a beautiful, peaceful, serene place. I spent much time there after my wife passed to get my head together. In the afternoons, the setting sun-generated dappled sunlight through the trees.

I saw many squirrels playing. It would have been a perfect spot to build a cabin, and the setting sun would have met the golden years.

The Alabama Gulf Coast has had its share of hurricanes. I have lived most of my life on the coasts of Florida, Alabama, and Louisiana. I sat through Hurricane Frederick on September 12, 1979, in Foley, Alabama. Ironically, fate would involve me in two disastrous events that affected my life within days of each other, 41 years apart. Before Hurricane Frederick, I had a successful electronics business in two locations and rental mobile homes. I was married with two step-children and was on my own at

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the time. One of my business locations was on an island in Gulf Shores, Alabama. The other was off-beach in Foley, Alabama. The building in Gulf Shores had two geodesic fiberglass domes connected on a deck. The wind rating was 135 miles per hour. A tornado preceded the hurricane and tore the roof off one of the domes as the sliding glass doors had issues, thus blowing out and allowing the wind to peel off one of the sections like an orange peel. The tornado lifted the electronic equipment, placed it all in the bay, and destroyed several mobile homes. Insurance companies canceled policies in June of the year. Replacement policies are not affordable and cannot prevent financial losses.

The building in Foley, Alabama, was old on the main street. There was an old garage door at the rear of the store, which was in jeopardy of collapse if the wind was strong enough. I decided to sit the storm out in the building, so I sent my family to a shelter and called the law to let them know I was inside. They periodically drove by checking. I sat in a chair with a shotgun in case someone decided they would like to help themselves with some electronics. The back door blew in at midnight, so I replaced it with a telescopic television antenna. I saved the day, and then I heard a tremendous noise outside. All the trash cans and metal debris from roofs and awnings were moving from left to right down the street. Fifteen minutes later, the moon and stars came out. The eye of the hurricane was upon me. Later, the debris came back down the street from right to left. The wind had shifted.

The island, including my home, was almost destroyed. It took me at least three weeks to get back on the island.

Fema provided temporary mobile home housing for those who lost their homes. I hoped I would not have to live through that again. I was wrong, as fate would have it.

On Monday, September 14, 2020, Hurricane Sally headed for New Orleans, Louisiana. My friend Fred had just taken his boat off dry dock and tied it up at his nephew's dock in Pensacola, Florida. He called me.

“Mike, can you help me tie up the boat?"

“I can't right now," I answered.

“OK.” I will get my cousin to help.”

The storm had shifted course and headed our way. The outer bands were already in our location.

I communicated with Fred on Tuesday at 10 am the next day.

“How is the boat doing?” I asked.

“The boat was getting beat up, so we moved to the middle of Wolf Bay. We will ride it out."

“You know the storm is approaching our area, and it will exceed 125 miles per hour?

“My cousin is a licensed captain who knows how to deal with this. We can anchor the boat."

“OK." Can I move my motor home to your house? I don't feel safe where it is.?"

“Yes, that's OK."

That was the last time I spoke to Fred. I dialed his number at 2:30 pm on Tuesday, September 15, and it went to voice mail. I knew something was wrong, as he always answered his phone.

The next series of events will haunt me until I take my last breath.

I moved my motor home to his farmhouse to ride out the storm. As the day progressed, the rain bands and winds became progressively stronger. I tried Fred's phone several times that evening, but there was no answer. There were several pine trees in the yard, so I positioned the motor home in a location that would minimize damage if the trees started to fall. The radar showed the eye of the storm rapidly approaching our area. I tried to sleep but finally dozed off around midnight. Now, the circumstances that followed still creep me out.

At approximately 3 am, I awoke suddenly by loud thunderous crashing sounds like a freight train passing over, which turned out to be a tornado in my immediate vicinity. When I sat up in the bed, I remember calling out."What is it? What is it?" I thought I was dreaming. At that very instance, I looked at the foot of my bed, and I sensed a bodily hallucination, and suddenly, an image appeared. If I

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had asked a sketch artist today to draw the picture, it would still be as fresh as it was then. It was a woman with disheveled salt and pepper hair, sunken eyes, and a worried expression to say, "Get out of there." She reminded me of the characters in the series The Walking Dead. I was overwhelmed and could not believe I was awake. She gradually faded slowly backward. I was frozen. According to Fred's cousin, that was the time Fred drowned as a result of the boat breaking apart.

I wonder to this day if the apparition was the return of my deceased wife. It sure looked like her.

Then, they pose the question. Why?Was she warning me as the trees fell, or was she the Angel of Death beckoning me to follow, but I was not ready? Or was she a signal that Fred had passed? I will never know.

When the sun rose, I looked outside and could not believe my eyes. The tornado had cut a wide swath of destruction in the pine trees like a child breaking toothpicks in half and throwing them on a table, several narrowly missing my motor home. The neighbor had a large tree lying right over the top of his, crushing the center. A large tree had split, and the vicious wind sent it through Fred's roof like a missile. Power lines were all down, and the poles split. I tried calling out, but there was no service. The cell towers were down. I had a fifth-wheel camper at Fred's that I was working on. It escaped with only minor damage. There was nothing more to do except contact friends and loved ones.

Fred's son lived nearby and came by around noon to check on things. The previous day, he had also lost contact with Fred on Tuesday.

“Mike, have you heard from Dad?" he asked.

“No, the last time we spoke yesterday was around noon, and I tried him at 2:30, but he didn't answer. I know the cell towers were having problems."

He surveyed the damage to Fred’s house and left and returned late that afternoon.

“Dad's cousin called from the hospital. Dad did not make it. I don't know the details; only the boat sank. They are searching for the body now.”

It was several days before rescuers recovered Fred's body, and Gobe, the cousin, came forward with the story.

"Because the boat was getting beat up at the dock, we anchored in Wolf Bay. We only had one anchor. I thought there were two on board. It was an oversight, but we used one anchor. It was going well until the anchor chain broke. We cranked up the engine and positioned the boat into the wind. That was not unusual because shrimpers often ride out a storm. Everything was OK until the prop got caught up in a shrimp net. When the engine quit, the storm made its way with the boat. We had our life jackets on. We ended up in the water when the boat broke up and started sinking. We drifted, hanging on together, but after a while, he became dead weight, and I had to let him go. I somehow managed to keep from swallowing water and drifted ashore. The wind was brutal. It washed me up against a pier, and I broke several ribs. I managed to ashore and knocked on a door. The residents let me in and took me to the ER when the storm subsided."

“What time did Fred die, if you can guess, "I asked.

“Around 3 am, I think."

Gobe relayed the story at Fred's funeral and took full responsibility for his death. He died three months later, and he is now resting next to Fred.

My heart skipped a couple of beats because that's when stuff happened to me, but this story does not end there.

Another friend, Pat, a transplant from Chicago, patronized the same club as Fred and I. It turns out that he was in the hospital during the storm. His girlfriend frequently kayaked across the inter-coastal waterway and in the local bays. On Tuesday, before the eye came in on Wednesday, she was paddling around the bays when the winds started to raise their ugly heads. She parked her car on the

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north side of the canal, and she was ultimately caught on the south side when she attempted to paddle over to the north side.

The rescuers discovered her body three days later.

The end

67

A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

"Love gone cold"

It was several hours of waiting in the ER for word about her father, Stephen's condition due to a stabbing wound. It turned out to be a stomach wound, and he lost significant blood before the ER could treat him. The redhead and her son were still on the loose.

He was a quiet man who presented himself well around others. Stephen was a retired scientist who lost his wife five years prior. Two years prior, Stephen had retired and was looking for some investment property. He read an ad regarding acreage for sale in a rural community in South Alabama.

When Stephen responded to the sales agent and the agent showed him the property, it was a surprise when Stephen found the agent, William, was a Ukrainian immigrant, as was his father. He was a well-built young man with a beard, around thirty years old, and a slight foreign accent.

His wife Maria was a petite redhead with a pronounced accent.

"Where were you born in the Ukraine?" Stephen asked.

"I was born outside Kyiv. My wife came to the United States and landed in New York City, where I attended a real estate school. My wife went to nursing school in the Ukraine and is trying to get licensed here. We moved to Florida, where getting licensed is not so hard. I had to go to real estate school here as well."

"Wow, my dad was born in Kyiv."

"My mother was born in Belarus," he said. "She is here now."

The mother entered the room.

"Hello, my name is Natalia." she said in broken English.

"Hello, my name is Stephen."

She was a blond with long, slim legs. She was well-endowed and had a pronounced limp.

"How long have you been in the United States.?"

"Only two months, as I am on a work visa."

"So, where do you work?"

"I was a literature professor in Belarus, so I am applying to colleges."

"I see."

Another woman entered the room.

William introduced her as his wife.

"This is Maria."

"Hello."

Stephen spent the remainder of this encounter discussing the available real estate. Pricing and location were the topics. Before leaving, Stephen obtained Natalia's phone number.

"I will call you and learn more about your life in Belarus."

"OK, that's good."

A week went by before Stephen called Maria. She did not answer her phone. After several days and many attempts, she finally called Stephen.

"Hello, how are you?" she said in broken English.

"I am fine. And you?"

"Good."

The conversation was mute, and Stephen asked, "Are you available for lunch this week?"

"Yes, what day?"

"How is Wednesday?"

"OK"

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"See you then," Stephen said.

On Wednesday, he stopped to pick up some flowers and a card. The card read, "Welcome to the United States." Upon arrival at her house, he noticed a man dressed in cowboy boots, blue jeans, and a cowboy hat getting into a white truck. He drove away as Stephen approached. No other cars were there, and neither were the son and daughter-in-law. It was several minutes before she answered the door.

"Hello, how are you?" Stephen asked.

"I am well, thanks. I would have made it later had I known you had company."

"No problem, that was just a friend visiting."

Stephen had a suspicious feeling that there was more to the story as he noticed a definite change in her demeanor when he mentioned her company, but he blew it off for the time being. After all, her business was hers, and they hardly knew each other.

At lunch, they exchanged information about each other. She did not like the political climate in Belarus. The president was too close to the Russian president and was supportive of the Russian aggression in Ukraine. She was also born in Ukraine but moved to Belarus for work. She encouraged William to move to the United States. Stephen preempted her move to the United States as her sponsor.

She was a divorcee for several years. Stephen told her about his life. She has a keen interest in his work.

"Are you employed?" she asked.

"I am retired."

"Do you own a house?"

"Yes, but it is a modest one."

"Do you live alone?"

"I do. I have two grown girls, but they live elsewhere?"

"Do you have an income?" she asked.

He thought, what an odd question from someone you just met, but he answered.

"I receive social security, and I have investments.

"So, how is your job search coming?" Stephen asked.

"I have several applications out."

It was a short response, almost as if she did not want to discuss it.

They continued dating, and she invited Stephen to her son's house for Thanksgiving dinner. By this time, they had moved into a house they had built in the country. Horses in the barn had individual stalls.

"Do you ride?" Stephen asked Natalia.

"I do, but a horse stepped on my foot recently, and I have not ridden since."

"I am so sorry," Stephen added. I hope it heals soon so you can continue riding. You enjoy the outdoors. I was raised on a Montana ranch but have ridden only once since. I miss the outdoors, so I am looking for rural property like this."

"I am sure William will find you something."

"So far, nothing has turned up."

"Well, I am sure he will find you something."

William and Maria were busy feeding the horses when Stephen and Maria conversed. They entered the room.

"Are you planning on building?" Maria asked.

Natalia suddenly looked at Stephen with eyes wide open as though it was a significant event she should know about.

"Yes, I eventually want to; however, I wish to buy horses first."

"Well, I am still actively looking for you." William added.

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“Thanks.”

Stephen and Natalia continued dating. There were occasions when the white truck he saw at the other house was also at the new residence when she was aloone and left briefly when the time came for him to arrive. Stephen wondered if something was going on he should know about.

"Was that your friend I saw leaving?"

"Yes, he is helping me with my English."

Her English was very poor, so Stephen blew it off for now.

"How is your job search coming along?'' he asked.

She hesitated before answering, and Stephen detected a look of consternation and a discernible annoyance in her voice as if she had resented the question.

“I have resumes’ out to several places now.”

“Any bites?”

She did not answer, and he thought she was hiding something. He should talk with William to see what was going on.

They enjoyed going to movies together and dinners in a quaint restaurant, and they enjoyed each other's company. Stephen often wondered what was up with her when he tried to ask her about her background in Belarus. He decided to have lunch with William. Stephen may find out more from him.

After all, he and Natalia were getting serious, and he knew very little about her. They met at a Waffle House for breakfast.

They exchanged pleasantries.

"I have some properties for you to view."

"Great, can we see them tomorrow?"

"Sure, nine o'clock, OK?"

That night, William and Maria had a conversation. William was apprehensive about his mother's activities.

"I feel like Stephen is sweet on my mother, but he is asking questions about the white truck,"

William said.

"Yes, I don't think he will be too happy if he finds out she moved in with that guy for two weeks," Maria added with a smirk.

Since William agreed to have his mother come to the States from Belarus, Maria had reservations about the move. They met in Belarus, and she never liked Natalia because she thought she was too possessive. William encouraged the move against Maria's wishes. Maria and Natalia lost no love between them, and they often had conflicts, resulting in harsh words. Stephen picked up Natalia, and they met William to review the property for sale.

Natalia said something in Ukrainian to William, who seemed surprised by the statement.

"What is it?" Stephen asked.

Stephen and Natalia struggled with her broken English, so they used iPhone translators.

"I said I don't like the location."

Stephen and William gave each other looks, suggesting what business it was of hers.

"Why don't you like it?" Stephen asked. "I want livestock."

"It's too remote."

Stephen and Natalia had several iPhone discussions regarding future dating. Stephen lived around 50 miles away; it could have been more convenient. His retirement allowed flexibility of movement, so dating was not an issue. They agreed to dinner close to his location in a retirement community. After dinner, he invited her to his house for after-dinner drinks and television. The house was a park model with an add-on, as were most in that neighborhood. It was small, less than 1000

square feet. Natalia toured the house with an obvious disappointment.

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"If you are retired from a job, why don't you have a better house?"

Stephen felt annoyed, "This is all my wife and I ever needed."

"She must not have wanted much?"

Stephen answered with a definite increase in volume. "We had a lovely waterfront house. We did not need another one."

After drinks and some time watching TV, they kissed. Stephen asked,

"Can you spend the night?"

"I do not have any overnight things."

"I have extra T-shirts and toothbrushes."

After several minutes of pondering, she reluctantly said, "OK."

They dated frequently for the next several months, and she often spent the night at Stephen's house. The language barrier continued to be an issue, and they usually used the iPhone translator.

Marriage has now become a frequent discussion. Stephen even discussed it with his daughter. He told her he was in love with Natalia. After a lengthy conversation, Stephen, Natalia, and Stephen's daughter agreed to go to Las Vegas for marriage. Before that happened, Stephen got a call from Maria.

"I need to tell you something. Natalia is only looking for a husband. She moved in with a man with a white truck for two weeks, and it did not work out."

Stephen had already suspected something was wrong with the man in the white truck, but he was surprised by the move-in.

"Thanks for the information."

"Be careful. Natalia is looking for a meal ticket and not a job."

"I will take it under consideration."

It was evident there was bad blood between Maria and Natalia, but Steven was willing to overlook it at this time and was even about to invite her and William to the wedding. He called William the next day with a formal invitation to the wedding. William responded that he would pass it on to Maria. It could have sounded more optimistic.

Tatania moved in with Stephen without much encouragement. Stephen's daughter Maxine helped with the Vegas arrangements. Everything was in place. During this time, Stephen noticed a slight limp in Natalia's right leg. She had a severe scar around her ankle area.

"What happened to your ankle?" he asked.

"A horse stepped on it."

"Wow, how long ago?"

"Two months."

Stephen noticed an annoyance in her voice as if she did not want to discuss it.

He did not pursue the topic any further. I would be at The MGM Grand in Las Vegas, and the wedding would occur at The Little Church of the West. Stephen had her prepped at the casino, where she did the work, including hair, nails, and makeover. He paid for Maxine's as well. An Elvis impersonator showed up to perform the ceremony. Flower shops delivered a few flowers. There was no formal honeymoon, an appropriate week-long stay. The stay had little consequence, although he thought it was odd that the family did not call and wished him good luck. The language barrier was still an issue. An incident occurred before they went home. She had a fever, so Stephen took her to a CVS

emergency clinic on the strip.

Upon arrival at Stephen's home, it became apparent that she was unhappy with the house. She immediately removed the pictures, gathered lamps, boxed them, and began replacing the furnishings with her flavors. Stephen did not object as it was now as much hers as his. He loved her and considered looking for another house to please her. Not long after they returned, she woke Stephen in the middle of the night.

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"Do you have any pain pills?" she asked.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"It is my ankle. I think it may be infected."

"How long has this been bothering you?"

"A while now, but I did not want to worry you."

Stephen gave her some pain pills, and the ankle swelled overnight, so he took her to the ER, where they gave her a script for antibiotics.

"Have you seen a specialist about this?" Stephen asked?

"No, because I do not have medical insurance, and I did not have the money for a doctor."

"What about William? Couldn't he pay it?"

"I did not ask him because he spent a lot of money bringing me into the United States." This worried Stephen. He began checking insurance rates. He found out that immigrants who are "qualified non-citizens" are generally eligible for coverage through Medicaid if they meet their states' income and residency rules and a five-year waiting period. New immigrant insurance plans for green card holders were also available but were costly. Not having a plan for her could be catastrophic if a severe medical issue arose.

"I should investigate the responsibilities of a sponsor for someone with a green card," he thought.

What he found out was shocking. William, the sponsor, had some liability.

A sponsor is liable for an immigrant family member until they earn forty work quarters credited toward social security. Also, they remain liable until the sponsored immigrant becomes a U.S. citizen.

Additionally, the sponsor is liable until the sponsored immigrant is no longer a green card holder and has departed the U.S. Finally, the liability continues until death or deportation. Marriage is of no consequence unless the sponsor obtains a joint sponsorship with the spouse.

It was odd that William did not ask for co-sponsorship with Stephen.

Her ankle was improving, so Stephen decided to go house hunting because he felt Natalia was unhappy in the house even though she replaced several furnishings. After viewing several homes, Stephen felt discouraged because she found fault with all the houses. It was not going well. In addition, he overheard a conversation between Natalia and her son William concerning medical bills. An argument occurred between them about delinquent medical bills at a local hospital. Stephen asked her about them,

"I overheard you talking to William about medical bills. What's that all about?"

"When the horse stepped on my foot, I had to go to the emergency room, and I could not pay, so there is a bill. I had to stay in the hospital for two days, and I had surgery."

"How much do you owe?"

"Eight thousand dollars, and they are after us for two thousand now."

"OK. We will go to the hospital tomorrow and pay for it."

"Are you going to pay the rest of the bill? Then there is the medical insurance you said you would secure."

"I said I would check on rates. I never said I would buy it."

"We are married. It is your responsibility," Natalia said sarcastically.

"I will do what I can, but I have no legal responsibility for your financial well-being."

"What do you mean?"

"William is your sponsor. He is responsible for you under the law until you become a citizen and accumulate 40 credits for social security."

She belted out loud, "Then you do not love me."

"I do, but I also follow the law. I should not have to pay your past bills, but I will try to get you

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some medical insurance."

She called William and told him that Stephen would pay the bill. Stephen could not hear the entire conversation, but it was heated. Silence was the topic for the rest of the day.

Natalia's daughter-in-law, Maria, had called and left a message for Stephen to call back.

"Hello, this is Stephen returning your call."

"Yes, I thought you should know that I overheard a conversation between Natalia and William, and you know they are looking for you to pay all her medical bills."

"Yes, I'm aware of that.

"Well, don't say that I did not warn you about her. She will go after you for anything she can get."

"What's your interest in all of this?"

"I have never liked her. She is a scam artist out to get whatever she can out of a man, and my husband is going along with it."

"I agreed to try to find medical insurance, but she did not tell me about the bills before we married."

"Have you found insurance?"

"No, not yet. It is costly."

"I know that is why we could not get it."

"Do you think it was a conspiracy between those two to find her a husband?"

"I don't know, but be careful. I do not trust

Natalia."

"OK, thanks a lot."

"Bye."

He continued to search for medical insurance, and the atmosphere around the house was colder than a grave-diggers ass. Stephen discontinued the home search until the air cleared about the medical bills. Stephen was upset. His head cleared somewhat, and he realized she was not the person he had thought she was. He called Maxine and left a message.

"Call me as soon as you can."

She was a nurse working long hours, so it was the next day before she returned the call, "Hello, Dad. What's up?"

"I think I made a mistake with Natalia."

"What's wrong?"

"Well, it turns out she had medical bills that she was hiding and did not tell me about before we were married, and according to Maria, the marriage is a scam to get me to pay the bills."

"How much is it?"

"It was at least eight thousand, maybe more. I paid two thousand of it."

"Wow. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but that's not all. Natalia has been pressuring me to get her a better house."

"But she saw the house before you were married, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"According to the law, William, her sponsor, is responsible for her until she becomes a citizen and accumulates points for social security."

"Does William know this?"

"If he doesn't, he is foolish. I intend to ask him about it?"

"Be careful, Dad. We don't know those people."

"OK."

Natalia was having conversations with her son William that she did not want him to hear, and

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this was beginning to irritate Stephen, so he decided to confront them both. Stephen met with the three of them at a local restaurant they had patronized before and invited Maxine to join them.

"Hello, how are you?" Stephen asked William.

Natalia was nervous and would not participate in the conversation.

"I called this meeting to discuss the medical bills issue. You know I paid two thousand dollars of the bill, but I don't know the total amount owed, and your mother is reluctant to discuss it."

"Our last bill was eight thousand, but there may be more."

"Why didn't you tell me about this before your mother and I married? I am upset."

Natalia said, "I didn't think it was any of your concern, but we would take care of it."

"It certainly is my concern. We are married," Stephen said" I also feel like you guys wanted me to pay this all along. I feel betrayed."

"You should pay it. You married her." William added.

"Look, you signed documents under sponsorship law I-864 that require you to take care of all financial obligations until she becomes a citizen and gains social security credits. I do not have to pay those bills."

Natalia remained silent. In a loud and boisterous voice, William stood up and shouted, "You know the law. You know the law."

He grabbed his mother by the arm, and they stormed out of the restaurant.

"Wow." Maxine said worriedly, "What do you think they will do?

"I wished I knew?"

Stephen had been waiting to hear from Tatania or William for two days, so he decided to call her on her cell phone.

"Are you coming home?"

"I need a few days to take care of business and find some papers."

"OK, I will come and pick you up."

It was three days before she called and asked Stephen to pick her up. They stopped for dinner and had a decent conversation, which they had not had for some time. The next day, he had business at the Social Security office and left around eleven a.m. He returned around two-thirty p.m. As he approached the house, a red truck backed into the driveway, and he texted Maxine that something was up at the house. She immediately called back.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. There is a red truck backed into the driveway. It looks like William's. Call me back in a few."

"OK."

As he approached the house, he noticed Natalia handing suitcases over the porch rail.

William was in the back of the truck. Stephen walked up the porch steps and shouted, "What's going on?"

"She is leaving," William said.

Stephen turned to Natalia, "Is that what you want?"

She looked at William and did not answer.

"Well, she is not going anywhere until I hear from her."

The remaining bag was on the porch. William grabbed Natalia by the arm, picked up the suitcase, whisked her inside, and locked the door. William began ranting and pounding on the door in a threatening manner.

"Stay inside," William told her.

Stephen opened the door, his voice raised, "Step aside; I'm coming out. You are trespassing, and I want you off my porch and my property."

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William swung at him as Stephen came out on the porch but missed. A struggle ensued, and they tumbled over the rail into the back of the truck. As the battle continued, William picked up a tire iron, the kind with a sharp point. He tried swinging at Stephen but could not connect. William managed to stab Stephen with the sharp end. He jumped out of the truck bed, entered the cab, and pulled the truck forward. Natalia came out screaming, and then William opened the end gate and pulled Stephen out. There was an apparent injury as his shirt was bloody. Natalia jumped in the cab and told William.

"Let's get out of here."

Stephen stumbled up the porch, entered the house, and called 911. Then he called Maxine.

"I just called 911. The son-of-a bitch stabbed me with a tire iron."

"How bad is it?"

"I don't know, but I am bleeding."

"Bye. I am ten minutes away."

Maxine got there before the ambulance arrived. Some neighbors heard the disturbance and were arriving. As an RN, she administered first aid to the wound. She told Stephen it was a deep wound and we would have to stop the bleeding. She was putting pressure on the wound when the ambulance showed up. She rode with the ambulance on the way to the hospital. The bleeding did not seem to let up. The ambulance rushed him to the ER. Maxine then called the Sheriff's Department.

A deputy arrived at the hospital shortly after the ambulance arrived. A neighbor also followed the ambulance and told the officer he witnessed part of the scuffle. He apparently saw Stephen stagger into the house but went home and called the law when he did not answer. He identified the red truck and recorded the license number.

Maxine was at his side when he recovered from surgery.

"Are you a family member?" the doctor asked Maxine.

"Yes, I am his daughter."

"He has lost a lot of blood, but the wound is not life-threatening. We will monitor closely for infections as the incident exposed stomach contents. Do you know what happened?"

"It was a domestic disturbance."

"OK. I am the surgeon. Here is my card if you have any questions."

The doctor left, and a deputy was waiting.

"Hello, my name is Deputy Adam. Your neighbor, who witnessed part of the scuffle, filled me in. Can you tell me how this happened?"

"My wife Natalia Lesishenko is here on a green card. I discovered a scam by her and her son, who is her sponsor. They wanted me to pay medical bills incurred before marriage. I told them I was not responsible and I would not pay it. The son came to my place and packed her up while I was gone, and when I returned, a struggle broke out. That's when he stabbed me."

"Were you inside or out when this happened?"

"Outside in the bed of his truck."

"What was the weapon?"

"A tire iron with a sharp point."

"OK, your neighbor gave us a truck description and tag number."

"What is the full name of the son?"

"William Lesishenko. He is in real estate. That's all I know."

"OK, thanks. I will be back in touch. Here is my card."

Meanwhile, William and Tatania rushed to his house in the country.

"You know I left a suitcase at Stephen's house. It had all my important papers."

"We can't do anything about that right now. We have to focus on what to do next."

"I saw him holding his stomach. How bad did you hurt him?"

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"I may have stabbed him with a tire iron."

"My god, son, you need to turn yourself in. You know I can be deported for this. You should call a lawyer."

William called his lawyer and then made an appointment to turn himself in at the Sheriff's office. The contention is that it was self-defense. He posted bail and was released.

Stephen recovered quickly and was on his feet again in a short time.

William appeared for a court date on an aggravated assault charge. He appeared and pleaded not guilty.

"I checked the law. You can get as much as five years." Natalia said.

"I can't think about that right now. I have to worry about my real-estate license."

"I don't think it will be a problem unless you are convicted."

Natalia repeatedly attempted to call Stephen regarding the suitcase left behind. He blocked her calls. He called his lawyer and filed for an annulment based on deceit. She, in turn, filed a motion to have her suitcase returned. He reluctantly complied.

While awaiting a court date, Stephen researched what it would take to have her deported.

Crimes of moral turpitude seemed the most realistic approach to having her deported. Although not precisely defined in immigration law, these crimes are generally referred to as shocking and often involve dishonesty. Theft, perjury, embezzlement, and fraud are examples of crimes of moral turpitude.

Also, they can include criminal threats, burglary, arson, and others. Stephen contacted ICE and provided all the information on Natalia, including her green card information, place of birth, country of citizenship, etc. His charge was benefit marriage fraud. She was conspiring with her sponsor to solicit payment for bills illegally. He would not receive any feedback, but the investigator assured him he would investigate.

Regarding the court date for William, his appearance in court was somewhat questionable. His lawyer negotiated a plea deal with the judge off the bench. He would plead guilty to simple assault, receive a fine, and serve time performing a given term of public service. The judge's discretion based on the prior history of his record was squeaky clean.

Natalia voluntarily left the country, and the divorce judge granted a divorce for abandonment of the marriage. The judge was not comfortable with an annulment.

Stephen considered the entire affair a learning experience. It was difficult communicating with her as she had just disappeared, and it took almost two years to finalize the divorce. Stephen could finally move on.

The end

76

GOD SLAPPED HIM TWICE

It was in 1963 when I met who I would call Greg and Jim, not their names, obviously to protect the innocent. Who would have known they would significantly impact how I would have viewed life from an observer? The Vietnam War was in full force. My job as an Electronics Technician on Navy planes was in high demand. I only went to High School for three years and did not learn much, so I struggled with high tech, looking over my peers' shoulders and trying to learn on the job. A seventeen-year-old farm boy from Montana should be on the bottom of the curve of intellectual prowess, although I scored in the top ten percentile nationwide in aptitude testing in my age group. Greenhorns in my squadron got the duty jobs nobody else wanted, so it became clear that a fast promotion was the key to getting off the bottom. I was confident that I could accomplish almost anything I set out to do. I inherited good genes from my Dad and my mother, well, not so much.

My first duty station was in Florida, where I worked on helicopters. My aptitude testing results during the days before enlistment were high enough to request my career path and duty stations, so I took electronics and duty stations in the South.

I passed my first exam for promotion to Petty Officer Third Class in record time. It was now my turn to give the undesirable jobs to the Greenhorns. When it came time to review the exam results for the next promotion, my supervisor called me in.

"So why did you enter the Navy?" he asked.

After a long pause, I answered, "The short version is that I worked on a seismograph crew in Montana. Exploration seismology records geological data, which may be useful to oil companies for exploration. Artificially generated electric waves are sent into underground formations and recorded on charts or electronic devices. My job was to set sensors in place and tie them together with cables. The sensors then pick up vibrations as a result of dynamite explosions. I understand current sensors transmit via WiFi to the server."

"It was January the year I enlisted. a small town on the top of a plateau in Colorado. I remember it being around 30 degrees below zero for a long stretch. I could not put on enough layers of clothing. I shook constantly and could not hold the rod still. The surveyor hollered frequently at me. I had had enough of him, the cold, and the job. A Navy recruiter had been on my case to join the Navy, so this was on a Thursday when I called him."

"How soon can you get me to San Diego?" I asked.

"If you can be in Butte Monday, I will have you in California by the end of the week."

"I called my Dad and asked if he could come and fetch my car. I was enlisting and coming home when I got out of boot camp. he agreed."

"Bill, my Dad immigrated from Ukraine via Moscow at about the same age as I was when I enlisted, and he was also looking forward to the challenges facing a young man's future."

"My recruiter did the best he could to get me to California that week, but it was the following Monday before I arrived in San Diego. My path to the final Naval Base went through boot camp at San Diego and electronics school in Memphis, Tennessee. My final assignment was here at this base."

"Well, I want to inform you that your Petty Officer Second Class stripes are coming."

"WOW! I can't believe it."

"You were the only one promoted in our division during this period. You are also the youngest promoted to second class in the history of this division."

"Thank you very much."

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When I was promoted and had some time in grade, it became apparent that I needed to figure out what I was doing from a management standpoint. From a hands-on perspective, the second-class petty officers were the front-line supervisors. My division had only two first-class petty Officers and one chief petty officer.

My boss called me in, "You now have responsibilities for sailors in the Navy who have over ten years or more of service. You are in your first four-year term. You need some experience in management, so if you can take some courses at the local community college, the Navy will help with the costs."

I did not finish high school, so I had to obtain a GED certificate to enter college.

After completing some management courses, I felt better about my leadership abilities and did not feel self-conscious about a teenage sailor supervising some sailors in their thirties.

Jim and Greg were two of the sailors that I was supervising.

Greg is in his early 20s, a striking figure with his tall, well-built physique towering over six feet. His presence commands attention, exuding an air of confidence and strength. With a chiseled jawline and piercing eyes, he possesses a rugged attractiveness that is hard to ignore. His speech is marked with eloquence and precision, reflecting a keen intellect and a penchant for articulate expression. He chooses his words carefully, often delivering his thoughts with a measured tone that demands respect. Born under the sign of Taurus, Greg embodies the typical traits associated with the Zodiac sign. He is known for his unwavering determination and practical approach to life. Despite his assertive personality, his strong will and steadfast nature make him a reckoning force. Greg holds firm to his beliefs as a devout atheist. He is unapologetic in his skepticism towards religion and often engages in thought-provoking discussions, challenging others with his rational arguments and sharp wit. Greg's dedication to his principles extends to his Navy career. He approaches his duties with discipline and commitment, earning his peers' respect. His military service adds another dimension to his character, highlighting his sense of duty and honor.

Greg is a formidable individual who combines physical strength, intellectual prowess, and unwavering conviction. His presence leaves a lasting impression, whether engaged in philosophical debates or carrying out his responsibilities in the Navy. He will be up for promotion shortly. He is currently a third-class petty Officer. Greg always wants a scientific reason about anything and does not believe in God or religion. Greg expects others to think like him and be atheists. With his logic and analysis, he will tell you why spirituality has no meaning, constantly challenging others with his views.

On the other hand, Jim, in his late 30s, standing 5 ft 8 inches tall and overweight, Jim has yet to be very successful in his Naval career. He has only achieved Third Class Petty Officer in fifteen years of service. Jim is disciplined and dedicated; however, as a Pisces, Jim often carries a bible and tends to impose his religious beliefs on others to the point of being annoying, persistent, and intrusive. He carries himself with confidence, authority, and unwavering faith. His devotion to his religious beliefs is palpable, and Jim makes no effort to hide it. He frequently engages others in conversations about religion, often imposing his views on those around him, whether they welcome it or not. Jim is sensitive to the emotions and struggles of others. Still, his sincere religious convictions sometimes overshadow his innate empathy, leading him to prioritize his mission of spreading his faith over genuinely understanding and connecting with those he encounters.

Despite his tendency to impose his beliefs on others, Jim is well-respected among his peers for his dedication to his duties and unwavering moral compass. Still, at times, he is the center of practical jokes. He approaches every task with purpose and integrity; however, some may find his insistence on sharing his religious views could be more manageable, leading to occasional friction within his unit.

Nevertheless, Jim remains steadfast in his convictions, believing wholeheartedly in the power of his

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faith to guide him through both the challenges of military life and the complexities of personal relationships.

The debates begin when the two are engrossed in deep discussions during lunch breaks. Their conversations ranged from politics to pop culture, but one topic always seemed to surface: the existence of God.

One sunny afternoon, as they sat in the base cafeteria, munching on their sandwiches, Jim laid his Bible on the table and re-broached the subject. Jim carried his Bible in most places except when he was working. Jim laid his Bible on the table beside him.

"Hey Greg, I've been thinking a lot lately about the concept of God and how it shapes our lives.

What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Greg, taking a sip of his coffee, replied thoughtfully, "Well, Jim, as you know, I'm an atheist. I don't believe in the existence of a higher power. The universe operates on natural laws and principles, and there is no need for a divine being to explain it all."

Jim nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

"I understand where you are coming from, Greg, but for me, faith is an integral part of my life.

I've experienced divine presence and guidance that have solidified my belief in God."

Their conversation quickly delved into a passionate exchange of ideas, sometimes heated to the point that it raised others' eyebrows. Greg presented arguments rooted in science and logic, while Jim countered with anecdotes and philosophical reflections.

"But Jim, isn't it possible that what you perceive as divine intervention could simply be coincidences or the workings of the human mind seeking patterns and meaning in randomness?"

"I see your point, Greg, but faith goes beyond empirical evidence. It's about finding purpose and meaning in life, and God provides that for me."

Their debate continued for weeks, with neither Greg nor Jim willing to concede their beliefs.

Yet, despite their differences, their discussions remained respectful and enlightening.

Helicopters were in the hangar for scheduled maintenance. This day, the sun hung low in the sky, and the hum of machinery filled the hanger. Greg and Jim were completing the testing of electronic equipment on the workbench.

"You know, Jim," Greg said, breaking the silence, "I've always wondered how you reconcile your faith with all this technology?"

Jim looked up from his work, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"It's not about reconciliation, Greg; it's about understanding that everything in this world, even the most complex machines, is a testament to the grand design of a higher power."

Greg chuckled. "Well, I guess I have to agree or disagree with that." Jim took the black box housing the electronics to the helicopter for installation.

He positioned himself where his body was inside and his legs protruded outside. During the installation, because of his weight, Jim became stuck and could not get himself out of the aircraft. He began to holler for help and moved his legs up and down vigorously, attracting the attention of his peers. Greg heard the commotion and immediately left the shop and entered the hangar. After calming Jim, they removed him, but not after some continuous chuckling.

Later that day, as the workers gathered for a break, they couldn't resist the temptation to prank Jim. Greg reluctantly followed the plan, but his conscience tugged at him.

"Hey guys, this doesn't seem right," Greg protested as they huddled together, stifling their laughter.

"Oh, come on, Greg, lighten up," one of the sailors said."It's just a harmless joke."

Reluctantly, Greg nodded, but his unease lingered.

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Jim was working on an antenna when the sailors positioned themselves around another helicopter out of Jim's sight. Another crawled into a cowling next to the one where he was working and began flailing his legs and calling out for help, feigning distress. Jim started yelling for help and ran over to assist the distressed man. Greg arrived simultaneously and couldn't bear to see the look of concern on Jim's face.

"Stop!" he yelled, stepping forward to stop the prank.

The hanger fell silent once again except for the hum of machinery as Greg explained to Jim what had transpired. Jim's expression softened, his eyes tearfully reflecting a mixture of hurt and understanding.

Greg turned to a small crowd that had gathered. "The next time you guys want to pick on someone, pick on me."

He then turned to Jim, offering a sheepish apology, "I'm sorry. I should have nipped this in the bud before it started."

Jim nodded, his forgiveness genuine.

"It's okay, Greg, but we make mistakes."

From that day forward, Greg made a conscious effort to treat Jim with the respect and kindness he deserved, even to the point where he watched over Jim and became somewhat protective of anything or anyone who might cause him harm, especially a sailor named Todd who usually instigated pranks toward Jim. As they continued to work in the hangar, their bond grew more pungent, forged not by shared beliefs but by mutual respect and understanding. And amidst the whir of helicopter blades, they found common ground in accepting each other's differences.

In the spring of that year, after the incident in the hangar, Greg received a call that his brother was ill and would take leave to visit him.

During his absence, the sailor called Todd, along with a small group, and decided it was prank time again with Jim as the recipient. Jim was now on the night shift and working on the bench, testing the so-called black boxes brought in from the hangar. His trusty Bible lay on the bench. During the dinner break, Todd stayed behind in the shop. He placed a small plastic tube under the workbench so no one could see it. He also put the end in a small opening behind the equipment Jim was checking. From Jim's view, the other end was on the other side of the bench. When Jim returned, the group was ready.

When Jim started to work, Todd moved to the opposite side of the hose, lit a cigarette, and blew smoke through the hose. When the smoke came out on Jim's end, he hollered, "Fire," and ran, grabbed an extinguisher, and sprayed the bench. Everyone laughed but Jim.

"Okay, you guys, that's enough fun for one night," he said with exasperation.

Greg's brother recovered, and Greg soon returned to work.

Jim did not mention the incident, but Greg discovered it through the grapevine. No one reported it to the chief petty officer. The group had a code to protect each other from harmless activity.

Greg does not find it funny, as Todd soon finds out.

It was a weekend at a bar outside the base where Greg and Todd hung out, as neither was married.

"Do you remember what I said a while back?" Greg told Todd.

"What might that be?"

"I said if you want someone to pick on, try me."

"I don't know what you are talking about?"

"I don't know what you are talking about?"

"The smoke on Jim's bench."

"Oh, that. Get real. That happens all the time with technicians."

"Not on my watch; it doesn't."

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"What are you, his babysitter? You smell like baby powder. Do you carry a change of diapers with you? I'll bet you have baby wipes in your pocket."

Several sailors in the bar laughed.

"Okay, smart ass. Let's go outside, and I will change your shitty diaper." Both were around the same build and height. Todd had a more rugged complexion and grew up on the streets of the Bronx.

On the other hand, Greg was more of an intellectual type, not one who would be in command of a fight.

Todd swung first, but Greg emerged victorious in the confrontation despite the odds. He stood up for his friend and asserted dominance in the situation, highlighting the importance of loyalty and standing up against injustice, even in challenging and contentious circumstances.

As time passed, Greg began to appreciate the depth of Jim's faith and the comfort it brought him in times of uncertainty. Similarly, Jim was intrigued by Greg's skepticism and the intellectual rigor with which he approached the topic. Eventually, their conversations evolved from arguments to explorations as they sought not to understand the intricacies of belief and disbelief.

Lunchtime in the cafeteria was usually the setting for their debates, and ultimately, others joined who listened and appreciated their strong views. They sat across from each other, their expressions reflecting their opposing beliefs.

"Let me ask you something," Greg said. "Isn't it dangerous to base your beliefs on something no one can prove.? What if you're wrong? What if all this faith leads to nothing?"

Jim's expressions softened, his eyes reflecting a sense of inner peace.

"For me, faith isn't about being right or wrong. It's about finding meaning and hope in a world that can often feel chaotic and uncertain. It's about finding solace in something greater than ourselves."

Greg sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I just don't see how you can put so much trust in something based on faith alone. It seems like wishful thinking to me."

Jim leaned forward, his gaze steady, "Greg, I respect your skepticism, but faith isn't about wishful thinking. It's about embracing the unknown and finding comfort in believing that something greater than ourselves is guiding us through life."

"Okay, let's leave it at that for another time, Greg added. Let's do our homework and continue next time."

A small crowd was listening, and they applauded when it was over.

"Just one more thing," Jim added."

"What might that be?"

"Have you ever read the bible or any passages from it?"

"Of course not. It's a manufactured book."

"That will be a good topic for our next debate," Jim said.

Word spread around the base about Greg and Jim's heated debates in the cafeteria. Interest was piqued when others on the base approached Jim and Greg to hold debates where an audience could be present.

"Several of our peers have contacted me to hold our debates in a location where an audience can be present," Jim told Greg one day at work.

"We can't do this on the base. It would have to be somewhere else," Greg said.

"Why don't we do it at the fish camp where you guys have sunrise services, the place where you toast drinks while watching the sun come up."

They agreed to conduct a debate outside at the fish camp on a Saturday and passed the word around. Since they did not have a moderator, they alternated the arguments.

Greg spoke first, "Hello, and thanks for coming. As most of you know, Jim and I have been debating philosophical issues lately regarding the existence or absence of God. First of all, as an

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atheist, in my mind, I cannot visualize a supreme being that I cannot see, feel, or hear. It's like Beethoven or Bach telling someone to visualize a symphony, listen to it in the abstract, and then talk about it. However, these debates are healthy because they challenge the brain. That is what the study of philosophy is all about. Today, we will tackle some topics, but remember, we are novices, not theologians nor scientists, and our opinions are solely ours. They are strictly opinions and not necessarily fact but may reflect on how others think."

"Thanks, Greg. As most of you know, I eat, sleep, and walk by faith, and I am not ashamed to profess it publicly. I believe in the Bible, which teaches, as in 1 Timothy 6:12." Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses."

"Okay, because we don't have a moderator, Jim and I agreed on topics we will discuss today. We will let Jim start with religion, defined as the belief in and worship of a superhuman power or powers, especially a God or gods. You first, Jim."

"Greg, did you know there are around four thousand different religions worldwide, with Christianity and Islam comprising over fifty percent?"

"I did not, so what's the point?"

"The point is that my philosophy instructor said he visited several cultures, reviewed over one hundred religions, and said if a culture did not have a religion, they would have to invent one. How do you feel about that?"

"Did he also say that around seven percent of the population are Atheists?"

"I did not hear him say that."

"Greg responded, "while I respect the historical perspective Jim represents, I argue that the existence of a god in any culture is unnecessary. Yes, humans tend to seek explanations for the unknown, but not all cultures have resorted to inventing gods. Certain indigenous cultures have lived in harmony with nature, giving credit to natural phenomena and processes rather than supernatural beings.

For example, Buddhism does not involve a creator god but on moral philosophies. Inventing a god is not necessary for all cultures."

"Thanks, Greg, but I believe you are overlooking the big picture in human history. Exceptions are always possible, but religious beliefs across a broad spectrum suggest a common need for a higher power. Even without God, belief systems revolve around spirits, ancestors, and cosmic forces, which provide meaning and structure. The basic desire to understand how the universe works leads cultures to invent gods or supernatural beings which may vary in different forms."

"I understand where you are coming from, but the presence of gods is not inevitable in all cultures. Atheistic cultures have demonstrated remarkable diversity. Alternate frameworks have shown that the existence of God is not necessary, and I feel like if the notion of God never existed, our society would still be intact, thriving, and evolving."

"That concludes that topic," Jim said

The audience applauded.

Jim then addressed the audience.

"Now, If you believe in the existence of God, then you have to believe that God sent Jesus down to save the world from original sin derived from Adam and Eve. That is our next topic. And I will speak first. I firmly believe that Jesus Christ did exist as a historical figure, and God sent him to free humanity from sin. The evidence from historical accounts, both biblical and extra-biblical, supports the existence of Jesus. Moreover, as recorded in the Bible, his teachings and actions demonstrate his divine nature and purpose to reconcile humanity with God through his sacrificial death and resurrection."

"Jim, while I respect your beliefs, I am skeptical. Some evidence of His being exists based on biased religious texts. There is no extraordinary evidence, only claims that Jesus was the son of God.

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Furthermore, the concept of original sin and the need for salvation needs further discussion."

"Greg, while it's true that religious texts form evidence of his birth and resurrection, they are substantiated by secular sources such as the writings of Josephus and Tacitus that mention Jesus. His teachings offer messages of love, forgiveness, and redemption. Humanity longed for that spirituality and moral conscience."

"Okay, Greg, I hear you, but the message of Jesus goes beyond religious boundaries and speaks to universal human conditions requiring further exploration and discussion."

Greg said, "Our next topic deals with Moses's controversial activity on the Mount and the delivery of The Ten Commandments. Jim believes in divine intervention, and I believe such things are due to natural or human agency. Go ahead and convince me, Jim."

"The Bible clearly states that God spoke directly to Moses and gave him the tablets (Exodus 19-20). A man could not manufacture them."

"That's fine, Jim. If you believe the Bible, which I do not, logic dictates that man made the story up within the cultural and historical context of the time. Stories of divine encounters were not uncommon in ancient societies and were often used to legitimize religious and political authority."

"Greg, the story of Moses and The Ten Commandments holds immense historical and religious significance for millions worldwide who believe the event was a pivotal moment guided by divine will."

"Jim, I believe humans crafted the Ten Commandments for moral and ethical reasons. Similar codes existed in other cultures with human origins at the time."

"Greg, if you study the Ten Commandments, you can't believe human hands could craft them as profoundly as they are. Look at the aspects of human morality and conduct that were much too intricate for the human mind at the time and must have originated from divine intervention."

"You know, Jim, some might argue that Moses's observation on the Mount may result from psychological phenomena such as hallucinations or altered states of consciousness, not supernatural activity. But look aside from all that, where's the proof? Has anyone found it?"

"Greg, The earliest known stone inscription of the Ten Commandments thought to remain intact today is a white marble slab engraved with 20 lines of faded Paleo-Hebrew Samaritan script. It weighs 115 pounds, measures about two feet in height and length, and lists nine of the ten divine rules enumerated in the Book of Exodus."

"Okay, Jim, we shall leave it to the believers. What's the next topic?"

"Do you want to discuss the Bible?"

"Yep, go for it."

"Greg, I have been thinking. Our debates have been going on for a while now, and I believe that if you read the Bible with an open mind, you may find answers to some of the questions you have about the existence of God."

"I appreciate your suggestion, but I don't think reading the Bible will change my perspective because I remain unconvinced of the existence of a deity."

"Okay, but hear me out. The Bible is not just a religious book; it's a collection of stories, teachings, and historical accounts that have shaped entire civilizations. It's worth exploring, even for understanding the perspective of billions of people worldwide."

" I will consider it, but I am not promising anything."

"Fair enough."

"That concludes our debate for today. We will consider taking questions in the future. Thanks for coming," Jim said.

The audience applauded, and everyone adjourned.

83

The two did not debate or argue for two months. Jim transferred to the day shift, and Greg remained on the night shift.

It was on a dreary, rainy spring night; the fog was thick when Greg got the call upon completing his shift. His brother's cancer, which had gone into remission, had returned, and he was in critical shape in intensive care. The road to Birmingham was treacherous this night of dense, swirling fog. Greg was stricken with worry and urgency at the news of his brother's critical condition. With every mile traveled, the mist seemed to thicken, wrapping around his car like an oppressive shroud, obscuring his vision and heightening the treacherous nature of the road.

Despite his best efforts to navigate cautiously, the thick mist played tricks on his senses, distorting the familiar landmarks and bends of the road. Suddenly, the car veered off course, lurching as it skidded off the slick pavement. In the moment's chaos, Greg fought desperately to regain control his heart pounding as he battled against the forces of nature and fate.

But the relentless grip of the fog proved too formidable, and with a sickening lurch, the car careened off the road, hurtling into a chaotic frenzy of tumbling metal and shattering glass. The impact was fierce, the sound of twisting metal and shattering glass echoing through the night as Greg's world spun into a disorienting whirlwind of pain and confusion.

When the din of the crash finally subsided, Greg found himself trapped amidst the wreckage, his body battered and broken; shards of glass and twisted metal surrounded him like jagged remnants of a shattered reality. Despite the shearing pain radiating from his injuries, Greg's thoughts were consumed by a singular desperate concern for his brother, his heart heavy with fear and anguish as he struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

Cars began to arrive, and rescue, which seemed an eternity, started the treatment and evacuation. Amidst the foggy haze, the rescuers' voices are muffled and distant as they work tirelessly to extricate Greg from the wreckage. With painstaking care, they carefully maneuvered him onto a stretcher, their movements slow and deliberate as they sought to minimize further harm to his fragile form.

The division chief informed the crew of the accident several days before. Jim was one of the first to visit Greg. Of course, he had an extra Bible to leave with Greg.

"Hey Greg, how are you feeling?"

"Ugh, not great, Jim. My bones feel like they've been through a blender."

"I'm sorry, Greg; by the way, how is your brother?"

Greg hesitated and sadly said, "He didn't make it. I did not see him at the hospital nor made the funeral."

"Wow, I will pray for his soul."

Greg did not comment.

"I heard about the accident and wanted to come by and see how you are doing?".

"I see you are still carrying your Bible around."

"Yep, you never know when I need to quote passages for inspiration."

"I guess it's good for reference," Greg said with a smirk."

"You are still convinced there is no God even when He slaps you aside your head. Aren't you afraid? I sure would be."

"Afraid of what? I have lived a life that I have no regrets about. I believe Man manufactures the Ten Commandments, but I have followed the rules.

"That's a start, and I am sure Saint Joseph will pass that on to Jesus when he reviews your book of life at the entrance of The Pearly Gates."

"You are hilarious," Greg added.

"Anyway, I brought you something."

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"I can guess. A Bible."

"Well, I know that our differences in beliefs have spurred debates that have generated an audience. The Bible may be a good reference for where I'm coming from. I have flagged the passages for you to read. They refer to the existence of God. Psalm 19:1-3, Romans 1:20, Hebrews 3:4, Genesis 1:1 and John 1:1-3. As a friend, I would appreciate you reading them."

Jim handed Greg the Bible.

"Even if you don't share my faith, there is still wisdom and inspiration on the pages."

"I'll take a look in my spare time."

"Yeah, you will be busy flirting with the nurses here."

"There are a couple of nice ones here."

"Anyway, when you have dark moments, and we all have them, we find ourselves open to things we wouldn't normally consider. Plus, you might find some interesting stories to pass the time while you recover."

"Okay, I'll give it a shot. Can't hurt, right?"

"That's the spirit. And hey, if nothing else, it might give us something new to debate once you return. Get well soon, and let's take care of yourself."

"Thanks. See you later."

It was eight weeks before Greg could return to light duty on the repair bench. His peers welcomed him back on the day shift with Jim.

"I miss our debates, he asked Jim. When can we do it again?"

"It will be hard to do it at the fish camp with your crutches."

"What do you suggest?"

"Maybe a place close to the base, a church or something. I will talk to my pastor about a room where we can invite those following us."

Jim spoke with his pastor, who reluctantly agreed. The pastor's concern was that Greg might be a better orator and influence his beliefs on others.

Then word spread about the debate. The followers were anxious about the topics, but Greg and Jim would not disclose them.

Jim introduced the debate, "Hello all, we are glad to have Greg back with us. Thank all of you for your prayers for Greg. I think God is watching him."

Greg pursed his lips, bowed, and sheepishly said, "thanks."

The audience clapped.

"Okay, what we agreed is to debate passages in the Bible, Jim said. Greg, you start."

"Jim, I researched the web for some more famous passages. The first one is John 3:16: "So God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."

This is a classic choice, Greg. This choice speaks to the core of Christianity. belief, emphasizing God's love and the promise of eternal life through faith in Jesus Christ."

"Does that mean If I am a believer, will I live forever being reincarnated?"

"Don't be silly; it refers to life after death."

"What if I am not a believer? Will I be condemned to perish? How fair is that?"

"Well, Greg, the Bible also teaches in 2 Peter 3:9 that God desires all to be saved and that God has patience so that everyone will come to repentance."

"But I don't believe in God, Jesus, or any of that stuff. I guess, based on beliefs, I will go to hell."

"I thought you said you did not believe in any of this stuff, but you do believe in hell. Isn't that hypocritical?"

85

The audience clapped and whistled.

"I guess you got me on that one," Greg said. " But the next passage I have problems with is about violence in the Old Testament reference Exodus 21:20-21. Does it not condone slavery, saying,

"Anyone who beats their male or female slave with a rod must be punished if the slave dies as a result, but they are not to be punished if the slave recovers after a day or two, since the slave is their property."

"The culture of the time condoned slavery, but the Bible also teaches principles of justice and compassion as in Ephesians 6:9 says, "And masters treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him," Jim said.

"So if you believe the Bible, you have to believe in slavery."

"Not at all. Over time, conditions in the world changed. Ethical and moral evolutions took place. Enlightenment ideals, economic changes, religious teachings, and abolitionist movements prevailed, changing the thinking about slavery."

"Explain how religion played a part in changing thinking about slavery," Greg said.

"Many of the world's major religions, including Christianity, Islam, and Buddhism, have teachings that emphasize the dignity and worth of every individual. While cultures justified slavery, it took time, individual and community recognition, and religious organizations that slavery was immoral. Cultures would condemn slavery as time went on."

"So, was the Bible wrong in condoning slavery?"

"The Bible does have passages that address slavery, but the interpretation of those passages can vary depending on cultural, historical, and theological perspectives. I argue that the Bible's treatment of slavery reflects the historical context in which it was written, rather than an endorsement of slavery itself," Jim said.

"I give your points credit. Let's move on to the Biblical topic of suffering. Why does God allow immense suffering when Christians believe they are children of God?"

"Greg, that is a great question and probably the most profound in our debates. The answer is not simple, but I can quote several answers that are of their merit. One is the 'free will, argument, where God gave us free will to make choices independent of divine intervention, leading to humans choosing actions leading to suffering and pain. God does not compromise free will. Two, some Christians believe that suffering serves a purpose in His grand scheme. They may see suffering as a means of character development, spiritual growth, or a test of faith leading to a greater good. Three is that for some Christians, Jesus suffered and died on the cross. Christians view through the lens of Christ's sacrifice and the hope it provides for ultimate redemption. Another view is that some Christians acknowledge suffering while recognizing that God's ways are beyond human comprehension. Some Christians also believe suffering is a sign of God's indifference; they see it as a call to action for believers to alleviate suffering and promote human flourishing."

"Wow, that's all over the place. This debate is about what you believe. Which is it?"

"They all have merit, but I believe in free will. Okay, folks, let's wrap it up. Greg, give me a few words on how you perceive the Bible."

"Okay, as an atheist, I don't believe divine intervention was responsible for the Bible. Humans manufactured it. However, it serves as a governing reference for moral servitude."

"Thanks, Greg, but we have had these debates over time. I think you are more of an agnostic than an atheist. Time will tell."

The audience applauded.

Jim completed his tour of duty shortly after that last debate, and he transferred to another duty station. Greg remained on the night shift.

86

It was another dreary day, almost reminiscent of the days surrounding the time when Greg received the call that his brother was ill and he had a wreck trying to get to the hospital. A call came in the early hours before sunlight that his father had a heart attack and was in a Birmingham hospital. A rainstorm was on the move on top of Greg. He sat by the window, staring at the raindrops racing down the glass. Worry and regret consumed his mind. His father was dying, and he promised to be there, but now, as the storm lashed against the windowpanes, it seemed like nature was conspiring against him,

"How odd," he thought. "History surely cannot be repeating itself here. I did not see my brother before his death, and now am I being denied seeing my Dad? What the hell?"

He looked at the clock; it was already late afternoon. If he left soon, he might have made it in time. Ignoring the torrents outside, he grabbed his keys and dashed out the door.

The rain was relentless, pounding against the windshield as Greg navigated the winding roads leading out of town. His heart raced with each passing minute, knowing his father's time may be slipping away.

Greg's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he approached a hill. The visibility was poor, and the asphalt glistened with rainwater. But he pressed on, his determination overshadowing any caution.

Suddenly, as he reached the crest of the hill, Greg's worst nightmare unfolded before his eyes. A large truck hauling timber lumbered into view. Its brake lights are barely visible through the downpour. Greg slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The wet road offered no grip, and his car slid forward uncontrollably. In a split second, the car slid under the truck, and the sound of metal crunching against metal echoed in Greg's ears. The impact was brutal, sending shockwaves of pain through his body.

Dazed and disoriented, Greg struggled to understand what had just happened. The air was thick with the scent of rain and gasoline. He could hear someone calling out as he faded in and out of consciousness. After an eternity, he could make out sirens in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. Rescue workers arrived, their vision obscured by the pelting rain. They pried Greg from the wreckage, their urgent voices lost in the storm's chaos.

As he lay on the stretcher, Greg's thoughts drifted to his Dad. Will he see him again, say goodbye, and make things right? "If there is a God, why is He doing this to me? Am I being punished?"

The weight of his regret hung heavy on his heart as he lay on the stretcher. The ambulance sped to the hospital.

The Base Commander notified the Base Chaplain that Greg had contacted the Chaplain and gave him the hospital details. Greg was in ICU, and his prognosis was not good.

Chaplain O'Reilly, a Catholic Priest, made it to the hospital in time to speak with Greg and administer last rights. Greg's funeral was in Birmingham. His family buried him beside his father.

Father O'Reilly held a memorial service at the Naval Base.

Chaplain O'Reilly spoke, "As you know, Greg was not a believer and often debated with Jim at work over religious issues. He requested me to his bedside after his wreck, and I administered last rights. You must know that Greg accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior after seeing an aberration summoning him toward a bright light. He was terrified. In addition, Greg wrote a sealed message to Jim, which Greg asked me not to disclose. He also asked that the Bible Jim gave him be recovered and buried with him. We recovered the Bible and complied with his request."

The End

87

THE TAILS OF A PSYCHOPATH