A taste of freedom

Good people  

The USS Olympia was a pretty mixed bag: awesome history associated with it but the ship itself was in poor condition, rotting away in lots of places and so there were many areas we couldn’t visit for safety reasons. Worse still, the curator said there was a risk of it being scrapped if money couldn’t be raised to fund urgent repairs.

“Boots, have you hoovered up every word on that board yet?” grinned Nat, impatiently looking at his watch and then back to me. “Not missed a single apostrophe or period?”

“Hold on, Nat, this is interesting.”

“As interesting as the maker’s plate on the boiler, or the label on the cushion on the seat in the radio telegraph office?” teased Nat. “I reckon you know both those by heart too…”

“I can’t believe they are thinking of scrapping this ship, Nat. So much history, and it’s not as if you Yanks have a lot of that to go around yet. Commodore Dewey’s flagship at the Battle of Manilla Bay, where America first climbed on to the world stage as a power to be reckoned with? The ship that brought the Unknown Warrior to Arlington after the Great War? To be scrapped?”

Nat looked a little crestfallen. “Sad thing is, Boots, you know more about her than most Americans. People go over the river to see the USS New Jersey because she is a big imposing battleship. By comparison, USS Olympia is small, just an old Armoured Cruiser. Easily overlooked.”

“She’s not just an Armoured Cruiser, Nat. She’s the Armoured Cruiser. The ship that actually made your navy worth something. Best of its type. And her history…”

“I’ve got you, Boots, and I agree, but the reality is that it’s difficult to get people to part with money for things like this. If it’s big and exciting, like the USS New Jersey, they’ll put their hands in their pockets. But USS Olympia just sits in the shadow of the New Jersey.”

“The USS New Jersey’s the opposite side of the State Line, Nat. Can’t your dad do something? People need ejjumakatin’. Let Pennsylvanians know they have something every bit as good as New Jersey, and it’s on your side of the water. Dewey’s flagship here, Nat. Perry’s brig up at Erie. That’s got to be saleable. Do you have a tourist department for the state? Can’t they publicise it? ‘Pennsylvania’s Naval Heritage’. Got to be something. Maybe your dad could mention it in a speech. Play on the patriotism bit. Get people interested.”

Nat’s grinning. “You’re catching on to this politics thing, aren’t you Boots?”

Noah’s looking up now. He’s been sat quietly in the corner of the cabin we’re looking round, scribbling away on his pad.

“How about we raise some money, Nat? I’ve got some sketches. I can work them up into a set of drawings. Maybe put the originals on display at the Carnegie gallery if you can persuade your mom to use her influence. Do some limited edition prints of each drawing, donate the profits to the Trust looking after the Olympia. It might not raise the kind of money needed to stop the ship being scrapped on its own but it would raise interest. Start the ball rolling.”

That’s triggered Nat. I can see the cogs ticking. Little wheels spinning round behind his eyes. Noah can see it too.

Nat’s smiling. “Come on guys, let’s talk about it over lunch. You might have something I can work on. Pop too. He could be up for this.”

* * *

We skipped the submarine – my fault, apparently, for taking too long to look around the Olympia – and headed straight to the big sailing ship, the Moshulu, which is now moored up as a floating restaurant. It was reasonably busy but the moment we stepped off the gangplank and onto the deck we were welcomed aboard by somebody who looked important. He waved away the smartly dressed young lady waiting to welcome people aboard and show them to their seats and smiled at Noah.

“Young Mister Mason, so nice to see you again. Your father rang earlier this morning to reserve a table and open an account for you and your guests. Do please follow me. We have a table set aside for you at the rear of the main deck dining room, right alongside a viewing port, you’ll be able to see the whole length of Penn’s Landing.”

The maître d’ led the way down a set of oak stairs to the main deck below. It was impressive: mahogany panels on all the bulkheads with big, ornate viewing ports down the sides letting in lots of natural light and giving amazing views along the waterfront and over the Delaware. The tables were circular, each seating six people, with royal blue damask tablecloths, cream linen, silver cutlery and cut crystal glassware. In stark contrast, but somehow fitting in, the chairs were made of see-through plastic, moulded acrylic I guess, all curvaceous and flowing. I should have known Noah would be used to dining at the best of places.

As we took our seats and the maître d’ fussed over Noah after he’d introduced us, though ensuring Nat was given a menu first, a server appeared with a silver tray bearing a decanter of iced water and a range of fruit juice carafes which she placed at the centre of our table.

Noah smiled. “You’ll like the juices, Nat. All freshly pressed. I always have the raspberry.”

He was right. I helped myself to a glass of raspberry juice too and it was awesome, especially as it had a layer of crushed ice floating on top of it. Nice touch!

“What do you recommend, Noah?” asked Nat. “I’m still not super hungry after that big breakfast, but something light from the brunch menu might be just what I need.”

“I’ll give you all a moment or two to study the menu,” smiled the maître d’, “Then be back to take your orders personally. Alice here will make sure you have everything you could possibly need in the meantime.”

Noah smiled at Alice as the maître d’ glided silently away towards another table and then said quietly but confidently, “We needn’t keep Mr Colletti waiting. Maybe we should order a New York smoked salmon platter right away as a shared starter, we can decide on a main after that. See how hungry we are.”

“Good choice, Noah, I’m up for that,” I grinned, reading its ingredients on the menu. “You too, Nat? Sounds like there will be plenty for three of us just as a starter.”

Nat quickly agreed and as we waited for the salmon platter to arrive, I turned to Noah to ask about the ship. There had been an information board at the top of the gangplank but I’d had no time to read it before we were whisked below to our table. If Noah’s been here before, he’ll know about it.

“It was built in Scotland, Boots, around a hundred years ago. One of the last big trading ships powered by sail. It was used a lot for grain cargoes and then coal, which is a link to my family years ago, but then fell into disrepair as steamers took over. She was rotting away but got rescued by Mrs Hamilton and restored.”

Why’s Noah looking at me like I should know who Mrs Hamilton is? Nat too.

“Mrs Hamilton?”

“Yes, Boots. Mrs Hamilton.”

Noah’s still looking at me like I am an idiot.

“Mrs Hamilton, Boots.”

“Mrs Hamilton, of the soup people.” Now Nat’s adding his three penn’orth.

“The ‘soup people’, Nat? Who’s that? Some kind of ancient tribe?”

Why does Nat refer to people as ‘the plastics people’ or ‘the coal people’?  Maybe the soup people are neighbours of the Clangers?

“The Campbells, Craig,” clarified Nat. “They made their money in soup. Mrs Hamilton is a neighbour of Noah’s.  Heiress to the Campbell Soup fortune. Has her own suite at the country club when she comes to Pittsburgh. Gives away millions to good causes.”

“Oh, that Mrs Hamiliton,” I said, trying to mimic Nat’s accent, “We swap recipes all the time…”

* * *

“What are you and the guys planning to do next year, Noah?” I asked as we waited for our starter to arrive. “Are you all sticking together with Nat, or splintering off into different dorms for your sophomore year?”

Sophomore year. See, I’m learning to speak American.

“They’re abandoning me, Boots,” interrupted Nat quickly. “I’ve talked things over with the Commandant and he’s asked me if I’ll be a dorm senior again next year, ideally for a freshman dorm with some of the new scholarship cadets in it. I was hoping Travis would join me as my Corporal, but he and the guys have other ideas.”

A pained look flashed across Noah’s face. Nat spotted it as quickly as I did. “We aren’t abandoning Nat, Boots,” said Noah.

Before Noah could continue, Nat was speaking again, seeking to assuage Noah’s clearly upset feelings. “I’m only joking, Boots. Noah and the guys are going to be great again next year. There is lots of competition amongst the Sergeants to be dorm seniors, and amongst Corporals too to be second-in-commands. It looks good on their résumés if they are looking to go to Westpoint.”

Noah’s smile returned. “We don’t want to be taking places as dorm Corporals from people that want them. So, we have asked to keep together in our own dorm. The staff agreed to it.”

“The Commandant even went so far as to decide they don’t need a Cadet Sergeant in charge of their dorm,” said Nat. “Travis will be the most senior Cadet Corporal for the whole sophomore year and so it’s been settled on that he can be trusted to be the dorm Senior.”

“We’ve been allocated a Corporals’ dorm on the floor directly above where we were last year, Boots,” added Noah. “It’s a good room, and only the four of us in it.”

“I’m staying put, directly beneath them, and I’ll have six freshmen in our old dorm, plus a Corporal. Two of the freshmen will be cadets on scholarships. Riley, you remember Riley my swim bud, Boots, well he’s going to have the dorm across the corridor and he’ll have two scholarship students in his dorm. The next two dorms along will also have a pair of scholarship students in them. The idea is to spread the eight of them out instead of putting them in a single dorm, but making sure they each potentially have a similar buddy on hand, and are close to the , but he’s others. It's probably going to be a strange environment for them all at first so a bit of mutual support will be useful.”

“Sounds like a well thought through plan, Nat.”

“He’s going to have a good Corporal to help out, too,” added Noah. “Both Kier and Hawke – they got early promotions alongside us for helping out in the snow emergency – want to go to Westpoint and were eager to be dorm Corporals.”

“So,” interjected Nat with a smile as our starter arrived, “I grabbed Hawke and Riley asked for, and got, Kier. I think there’s going to be a lot of competition between me and Riley next year to have the best freshman dorm.”

“We’ve said we’ll help out,” said Noah, helping himself to a bagel chip with smoked salmon and a spoonful of salad from the platter. “All the extra stuff you taught us for military skills, well, we’ve agreed to do lectures and demonstrations on it to all the freshman dorms next year. Bolster the military skills syllabus. Make sure the stuff you added doesn’t fall by the wayside.”

Nat was smiling as he took some food from the platter. “Noah’s kept the best bit until last, Boots. Go on, Noah, tell Craig. It’s not bragging, you’ve earned the appointment on merit.”

Noah’s face was beaming with pride. “I’ve been appointed Gun Captain, Boots. For the Artillery Detachment. It’s usually a Sergeant’s role, but Sergeant Dawson, who’ll be a Lieutenant next year of course and the new senior in charge of the Artillery Detachment, appointed me. Will’s got a good duty too, he’s appointed Battery Fire Controller.”

“Congratulations, Noah, Nat is right, it’s an appointment you deserve. Will too. Sounds like you’ll all have a great time. Your own room, no Sergeant ordering you around, freedom for the four of you to stay up late gaming and watching movies…”

Nat smirked. “I’ll be popping along from time to time to keep an eye on them. After all, as the college’s first ever Sergeant Major, I’m going to be responsible for discipline.”

“There you go, Noah,” I laughed, “Not quite as much freedom as you thought…”

“Sergeant Dawson, well, Lieutenant Dawson as he’ll be next semester, is one of the cadets shortlisted as possible Captain of Cadets, Boots,” continued Nat. “He’s on both the shortlist the staff presented to the Commandant, and the shortlist the cadets drew up. Some stiff competition though. Last year it was a very tight race with two outstanding cadets, Jackson and Kyle, leading the rest by a mile. This year though it seems a lot more open. There are six names on each shortlist – most of them the same names – and I think all of them are in with a fair chance. It’s going to be an interesting selection process.”

“How about you, Boots?” asked Noah, “What are you doing at school next year?”

“I’m hoping they’ll let me stay a year up, Noah. I sat a few A/S levels this year and I should get me exam results through any day now. They’ll probably be waiting for me on the doormat when I get home next week. If I have done well in them, and I should, I did my favourite subjects – maths, physics and chemistry – then the teachers have said I can do my A levels in those subjects a year early. That way, I might get to leave school a year early and join the marines early. Assuming my dad’ll let me.”

“How about taking a year out after your exams, Boots, and doing some travelling? Get a bit of life under your belt before going in to the army?”

“Navy, Natters, the Navy. The Royal Marines belong to the navy, not the army.”

“Whatever, Boots, they all look the same to me…”

I’m not going to rise to the bait. Nat knows perfectly well that the Royal Marines are navy. I’ve told him often enough. He’s just trying to wind me up. It’s not going to work.

“Oi, Nat! I had my eye on that last slice of salmon.”

“Too slow, Boots. Beat you to it…”

Noah’s laughing. He’d seen what trick Nat was pulling. Distracting me with stuff about the marines then grabbing the last bit of the sharing platter for himself. “Maybe we should look at the menu, Boots, order some mains. You and Nat look as though you are still plenty hungry.”

We’d barely had time to begin looking at the menus Alice brought us when the maître d’ appeared, smiled at Noah then bent forward and whispered in Nathan’s ear. Nathan smiled and nodded. “Yes, we’re expecting them. Please, bring them down.”

Nat turned to me and Noah and said, “It’s the Yawkers. Seems they have come over after all, but didn’t get beyond the gangplank before they got stopped. The maître d’ is bringing them down now.”

A minute or so later the maître d’ returned, leading Jed and Lukas over to our table. We stood to welcome them and as we shook hands Nathan enquired, “Where are Sean and Cole?”

Jed looked around hesitantly. “They didn’t think they’d fit in here. Well, to be honest, they were reluctant to come over this side of the river. If your pop really is Governor. They thought they were safer staying over in New Jersey. They did work all morning though. They didn’t enjoy it, but they did it.”

Nat’s smiling, controlling the situation again. Ushering Lukas and Jed into seats at our table, handing them a menu. “Please, stay and have lunch with us as our guests. We’re just about to order.”

Jed and Lukas sat down a little uneasily and eyed the menu.

“We’re just having something light from the brunch menu,” said Nat, “But order whatever you like. Noah here can vouch for just about everything on the menu.”

Noah smiled. “The burgers and fries are good. Simple, but good. Or the steak and eggs, with the sauté potatoes, peppers and onions. You’d like that too, Boots. Keep your boxing energy up.”

I grinned. “Yes, that sounds great, Noah. That’s me decided. Steak and eggs.”

* * *

The food was every bit as good as it ought to have been given the prices listed on the menu. My steak was done to perfection - medium rare - and both Jed and Lukas were clearly enjoying their burgers and fries as Nat interrogated them over lunch. He does that to everybody, mostly without them realising it. Finding out who they are, who their families are, what they do. I guess it’s something he’s picked up from his dad, maybe without even realising it. Sorting people into categories: those who might be useful in future and those who can be safely forgotten.

“So, Jed,” enquired Nat, “What do you plan to do now you’ve graduated from High School?”

“I’ll be joining my pop’s roofing business,” said Jed between bites of his burger, “It’s doing well and he thinks he can afford to take me on full time. I guess one day it’ll be my business.”

“Maybe you could do a college course too, say in Business Studies,” said Nat. “That would help out the business, help secure it for the future.”

Jed laughed. “I’m done with school. I’m more cut out to do stuff than think about stuff. I’ve spent as much of my life as I can remember sat behind a school desk, now I can really do something useful. Besides, college courses cost money. Maybe my little brother will do a college course after he graduates high school, he’s smart, starts high school next year, but not me.”

“You should at least think about it,” said Nat. “Maybe at night school. It doesn’t have to cost a lot.”

“I’ve spent plenty of time thinking about it,” grinned Jed, “And the answer is always the same. I’m good with my hands, I can relate to people too, so I think I’ll do just fine in the family business. Pop is already teaching me to do quotes and estimates with him. Size up jobs, work out a bill of materials. I’ll pick it up, keep the business going. No need for a fancy qualification, good workmanship and fair prices is what will win through.”

“I guess so,” agreed Nat.”

“Besides, if I’m around more at home, not away at a college, I can keep an eye on my brother, Davey, make sure he mixes with the right kind of people, gets his schoolwork done, doesn’t fall in with the likes of Sean and Cole. Davey’s the smart one in the family, deserves to get a chance in life.”

Noah’s looking at Nat. Nat’s looking at Noah. Just like they’re telepathic or something. Nat’s nodding at Noah. Prompting him. Noah’s hardly said a word all lunch, just left the small talking to me and Nat, but he’s been tuned in.

“If Davey’s smart,” said Noah quietly, “And you want a good start for him, why not apply for a place at our school? Allegheny River Military College.”

Jed and Lukas looked at each other incredulously.

“You serious, bud?” laughed Lukas after a moment or two. “We’ve seen the documentary about it on TV. People like us don’t belong there. Wouldn’t get a chance of going there. Besides, the fees for that place are probably more per semester than Jed’s pop makes in year. That right, Jed? It might be fine for rich guys like you, but no way can a guy from Ravenswood go there.”

Nat’s just letting the idea float for a moment, not pursuing it right away. Allowing Jed and Lukas to get their objections out of the way.

“I know you mean well,” said Jed, looking at Noah, “But Lukas is right. There have been times when it’s been hard to pay the bills each week for electricity and phones, and we need those to run the business. Things are a little better now, the economy is looking up, business is getting better as folk start to spend more, but a fancy college is out of the question. Davey’ll do fine at Long Island City High, it’s not a bad school. Good for a public school. I made it through…”

“It’s probably a pretty good school, as you say,” said Nat, “But sometimes it’s worth getting the best. Ordinarily you’d be right, Allegheny’s fees put it out of the reach of most people, but Davey could always apply for a scholarship. They’re generous too, everything paid. Food and accommodation, not just the academic fees.”

“He’d be treated well, too,” said Noah. “People at Allegheny don’t actually care about money. If Davey’s bright, and a good person, he’ll get along.”

Nat’s nodding. “Noah’s right, Jed. I know what people assume about Allegheny River, but most times they are wrong. Its aim is to provide the best foundation for career success possible, not to create a new generation of spoiled rich kids.”

“That kind of goes with the territory though,” I laughed. “If they are successful, I guess they’ll make money.”

Nat glanced down at his watch, then up at Jed. “Come on, time to pay the check and go ashore. We need to go do some sightseeing and I guess you and Lukas need to get back to New Jersey and put Sean and Cole out of their misery.

Jed smiled as Lukas wiped his lips and scrunched up his napkin into a ball, flicked it across the table. “Yes, we need to start making tracks. Thanks for the food, it was pretty good, and thanks again for giving Sean and Cole a chance. Even if maybe, they didn’t deserve it.”

“Everybody deserves a break, Jed,” said Nat. “Some more than most, perhaps. At least think about a scholarship at Allegheny for your little brother. The application procedure is easy enough. There’s no guarantee it’ll be successful, that’s down purely to the Commandant, nobody can influence him, and there’s bound to be real fierce competition for the few scholarship places, but surely it’s worth a try and…”

Noah interrupted, held out a menu card. There was a drawing on the back of it. It was just a sketch but with a few deft strokes of a pencil Noah had captured the essence of Jed and Lukas, the two of them dining in style on the Moshulu.  At the bottom were two words, “Mrs Woodleigh” and a telephone number. “You can read about the college on its website,” said Noah, matter-of-factly, “But then just call Mrs Woodleigh. She’ll send you an application for Davey to complete. That right, Nat? If you want it.”

There was a moment’s silence, then Lukas grasped the card. “Jeez, bud, that’s us! Plain as day. Sat right here. Look at it, Jed, it’s us.”

As Noah stepped back, then slipped away, Nat stepped forward and patted Jed on the shoulder. “Noah’s pretty good at art. I’d say he’s got you two perfect.”

Jed nodded. “Yes, it’s good, my mom’ll love it. Pop too. We can get a frame for it. Mom’ll want it up on the wall. We can get you a copy too, Lukas, down at the corner store, use the copier there.”

Nat’s smiling, steering us all towards the stairs up to the deck, out into the sun. Noah’s already there, smiling and shaking hands with Mr Colletti at the top of the gangplank. I guess he went to settle the bill when he slipped away. He’s definitely strutting around this place like he belongs here. That’s something Davey, Jed’s brother could learn at Allegheny Alcatraz, if he gets in there. Confidence. They don’t teach it, but you just kind of absorb it through osmosis. That was smart of Noah, to give them a picture with Mrs Woodleigh’s number on it. If him or Nat’d just scribbled down the number I’m pretty sure Jed would soon have discarded it, or if he’d taken it home it would soon have got thrown. But that picture, there’s no way they’re not going to put that up on the wall. And that number’s going to be there, gnawing away at them until they check the college website, start to think that maybe, just maybe…

We shook hands with Jed and Lukas at the bottom of the gangplank and were just about to go in our separate directions when I remembered something.

“Hey, hold on a sec, guys,” I shouted as Jed turned to head back along the riverside to the ferryboat stop with Lukas. “Nat, you forgot to give him back his car keys.”

Noah’s giving me his look again. Nat’s smirking. Jed and Lukas are grinning too.

“No, I have them right here,” smiled Jed, taking them from his pocket and waving them in the air. “Nat never actually took them. Sure, he made a big show of it back on the battleship for Sean’s to see, but he slipped them back to me right afterwards.”

“Trust, Boots,” said Nat quietly. “They’re good people.”