Fifty-Four
“Travis... Lieutenant Jones, we’re done here. Meeting over.”
“Sir.” Travis snapped to attention. He was about Cary’s age, a good junior officer. He could be too jocular sometimes—too
quick to joke when they were on task, it’s why people liked him—but he was smart and creative, and he never blew Cary off.
“Are you with us today?” Cary asked.
“Yes, OPS,” Travis said.
Cary was still getting used to that title—“OPS,” said like “hops” or “crops.” This was his first deployment as operations
officer.
“Yes, sir,” Travis added, glancing around the empty office. His eyes were red. He looked tired. They were all tired, but Travis
looked especially done in.
The other officers had already moved on, back to their posts. “Are you okay?” Cary asked.
“Yes, sir.” Travis nodded.
“No, I’m serious—are you okay?”
Travis rolled his eyes, like that was a complicated question. He looked tearful. “Sir, I just... some days it’s harder
to be away from home.”
“Six more weeks, Jones.”
Travis nodded briskly, blinking back tears.
“Is there a crisis?” Cary asked.
The man’s eyes closed briefly. “No, sir. It’s just... my son, sir. He’s had a rough week. He’s been given a rough lot in
life.”
Cary wasn’t sure what to say. Travis had been in the Navy at least ten years. With a break for college. He knew about as much
as Cary did about the realities of deployment. “How old is your son?”
“Fifteen, sir.”
Cary tried not to widen his eyes. Travis was thirty-one, thirty-two tops.
“What’s his name?”
“Corey, sir. He’s...” Travis opened the work folder he carried. His family’s photo was taped inside, across from a yellow
notebook.
There was Travis, in his dress blues. He was a small guy with a smile that looked like a laugh. Pretty wife with red hair—a
little older than Travis, it looked like. Three kids under seven or so, and a big adolescent boy who was already as tall as
Travis and twice as wide.
Travis pointed at him. “That’s Corey, sir. And that’s my wife, Alicia, and Nevaeh, Travis Jr., and Jasmine.”
In the photo, Travis had his hand on the older boy’s shoulder. All the kids were smiling and wearing nice clothes. This was
probably taken at a ceremony.
The ship pitched and caught Cary off guard. His shoulder hit the wall.
Travis gave him a surprised look.
“You have a beautiful family,” Cary said.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I mean it, Travis. You’re lucky.”
Travis knew Cary well enough to know that he wasn’t married. He probably felt sorry for Cary. He probably should.
“Would a phone call help?” Cary asked. “I can get you on the sat phone later.”
“No, sir, thank you.” Travis smiled, rueful. “It was a phone call that fucked me up. Sir. I’ll shake it off. I just...
I’m here for them. I hate feeling like I’d be better off there for them.”
There wasn’t anything for Cary to say. “Six more weeks, Travis.”
“Yes, sir.”