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The
Rally By
sherlockette Thanks
again to my special beta ;-) “Two days off with no
responsibilities, no worries. Even the admiral is going to get away. He’s visiting a friend in As
he listened to Lee Crane, captain of the splendid submarine Seaview, Chip Morton couldn’t
help but grin. Lee’s long time friend and Seaview’s executive officer was keenly aware that neither
Crane nor the sub’s designer, Admiral
Harriman Nelson, ever left the responsibilities of the Nelson Institute
or Seaview for very long. At least not of their own volition. In
fact, self-imposed R and R was such a rare event for his CO, when Lee
had made plans to participate in a British car show and road rally near
the town of Out
of the corner of his eye, Lee caught Chip’s amused expression and cocked an
inquisitive brow. The blond shrugged innocently then turned away as if
to look at the scenery before letting out a loud chuckle. Lee responded
with a broad smile of his own then steered his car onto the ramp of the
I-5 and merged into traffic. With a good two-hour drive ahead before the
turn-off he leaned back and soon became lost in his own thoughts. Though
he seldom had problems while in port, in recent days Lee had found it increasingly difficult
to sleep. Vivid images of insects and the smell of resin had permeated
his dreams and on several occasion he had awakened to find his pillow
saturated with sweat. Throwing himself into the details of the next
cruise and exercising several times
each day had done nothing to
alleviate the problem so when he found a brochure for the show and rally
on his car seat, he jumped at the opportunity to spend time in the
wide-open spaces. Unfortunately, so far he had been unable to banish
thoughts of their recent mission and for nearly an hour he rehashed the
details in his head. When he
caught himself grimacing, he glanced over at his friend of many years.
It was obvious the blond had noticed his pained expression but before
Chip could ask what was bothering him, Lee rattled off a short history
of the Cobra automobile. “Carroll Shelby visited
AC Motors looking for a car to compete with the Ferrari on the racing
circuit. After trying
out various Ford engines in
the AC he only managed to beat out the Corvette but he did begin to
develop the Cobra as a brand. He was still driven to beat the Ferraris
so he continued to work with Ford trying various existing engines.
Secretly he convinced Ford to work with him to design a small block high
performance V-8 that fit into a slightly modified AC body. That model
ended up winning some notable races but Chip
nodded his appreciation for the lesson. “Can’t say I’ve ever really thought about buying a sports car.
Rather have something with more head and leg room.” Lee
pointed up. “ “Yeah, if you don’t mind being cold… or soaked on occasion.” “You work in a sub. You
should be used to it!” “Exactly. I spend enough
time trying to keep the water out of her. Why would I want to do it when
I’m on leave?” “Hah. Good point.” “It’ll be interesting to see some of the oldest models.
They give you some perspective on how advanced construction materials
have become.” “Hmmm. Maybe someday cars
will have domes of herculite. It would be great for visibility.” “And wreak havoc on teen
dating life!” Chip cackled. “Something
you want to tell me?” “Nope.” Chip
quickly changed the subject. “When
was the last time you went to a car show?” “Most of the cars became
antiques since my last trip,” Lee replied with a
toothy smile. “Now, about those dates…” The
two old friends continued their light-hearted banter until they spied
the sign for their exit. As they made the turn onto state highway 198
headed east they were nearly blinded by the brilliant
morning
sun. Both men immediately slipped on sunglasses and Chip also donned a
large brimmed ball cap to protect his fair features. “198
should take us all the way through. Looks like it’s
going to be a hot one,” he announced before
settling back in his seat. Suddenly,
the roar of several high performance aircraft practically engulfed the
pair. As Chip cringed and
covered his recently injured ears, Lee scrutinized the aircraft’s
markings. “NAS Lemoore’s just ahead,” he shouted. “I forgot this was airedale
territory.” The thunder from the jets had
barely subsided when Lee glanced at his rear-view mirror and caught
sight of a dark green sports car, closing fast. Within seconds a fifties
model Aston-Martin driven by a forties model man pulled up behind them.
When the motorist signaled his intent to pass, Lee slowed and waved him
around then with little apparent effort both car and driver disappeared
out of sight. “You know the saying
about boys and their toys,” quipped the blond
officer. Lee
laughed out loud at the irony of Chip’s comment and the XO
quickly joined
him. Both could recall more
than a few instances where they had shown off their own mechanical
marvels, the Seaview and
the Flying Sub. Over
the next several miles the Cobra was joined by two black MGB roadsters,
a bright blue Sunbeam Alpine, an orange Triumph and a truck with a
trailer that carried a slate gray Morris Oxford. The latter, a boxy
saloon car, was a rare sight in the U.S and drew curious glances from local farmhands and drivers alike. The
informal caravan soon made its way to the eastern outskirts of As
he pulled his car into the parking lot, Lee was impressed by the wide
variety of makes and models and the kaleidoscope of paint colors
represented. It was
also hard to miss the equally colorful group of drivers of all ages milling around them. Already lined
up to receive their rally packets were two Austin-Healeys, nearly a
dozen MGs and Triumphs and one Chip
quickly glanced over the paperwork. “Like
they advertised, it’s a poker rally through
Sequoia and Lee
looked on with amusement as his exec reached behind the seat and pulled
out a more detailed road map of the park and eagerly unfolded it. Chip
caught Lee’s expression. “Hey, this is the best part!” he scolded as he shoved the
map in front of his captain. Sounding much like a tour guide, he then
pointed out each of the rally checkpoints and described each in detail. “The magnificent Tunnel Log is our first stop. The
massive tree fell without any human witnesses in 1937. Maintenance crews
cut out a big chunk so they could get to work but the tourists fell in
love with it so they kept it. The rally sponsors will be taking pictures
as each car drives through and photos of same may be purchased tomorrow
at the show for a nominal fee. The next stop is just up the road from
there. The General Sherman Tree is one of the largest and oldest living
things on the planet. Of course, that’s by their standards, not
ours. Next stop is way up at the Redwood Mountain Overlook where we will
see the largest remaining grove of sequoias in the world. Not far beyond
that is what’s left from early logging
operations of the Smith Comstock Lumber Mill. The huge trees were milled
into stakes and fence posts for local vineyards. Of course, some might
say that is a lot like chopping down the Charter Oak to make a box of
toothpicks. It’s now called the “I’ll let you test that one.” “Gladly. Oh, and last but
not least, the total distance is ninety-two miles and a lot of steep
curves mean we’ll use a lot of gas. Since
there are no fuel stops in the parks they advise that we fill up in
Three Rivers.” Lee
nodded. “Let’s get started so we can be through well before
dark.” Chip
reached into the envelope and pulled out a souvenir key fob and snapped
the chain around the rearview mirror. “The
Sherman Tree or bust!” he chuckled.
**** Situated
just a few miles from the southern entrance to Lee
pulled into one of the stations along “I thought you
bubbleheads were too busy saving the oceans to fraternize with the likes
of us.” Lee
grinned broadly as he turned to face the man who had taught him to fly
jets, and who had test flown the flying sub before it was put into
service, naval Captain Todd Gurley. He greeted his friend warmly before
returning the barb. “At least we have good manners. Your boys tried to give us a shave and a
haircut without asking,” he said with a grin. “So what brings you here?” “The rally, but Trudy’s piloting this trip. She
bought and restored an old “For now, but I might be
selling. Chip’s here with me. He’ll be glad to see…” “Excuse me, please!
Excuse me!” The
men turned towards the voice and caught sight of a petite
thirty-something woman with a toddler in her arms headed their way.
While struggling to remain calm and control her squirming child, she
asked the men for assistance. “Please tell me you’ve seen… an older man, about five foot eight, gray crew
cut, in overalls?” “I’m afraid not, ma’am,” replied Gurley. “We haven’t been here long, though. Is there something we can
do?” The
woman let out a sob. “It’s my dad. He has a touch of senility and wanders
sometimes. He’s always found his way
back, but this isn’t home and I’m afraid he’s lost or hurt.” In an attempt to gain her
composure the woman looked around at everything except the men in front
of her. “We, my husband and I, decided
to camp for the weekend and brought him along on our trip. We thought
some time outside would do him good and we wouldn’t think of leaving him
home alone.” “I’m Lee Crane and this is Todd Gurley,” Lee said quietly. “And you are…” “It’s “Mrs. Beckley, we’ll try and help out. Could you
tell us where he was when you last saw him?” “Our camper is around the
corner next to the river,” she explained as she
shifted her child to the other arm. “When we woke up this
morning he was gone. It’s been hours and we can’t find him anywhere. We
checked the campground and my husband is looking along the river. He
sent me for help.” Chip
and Trudy Gurley were leaving the store together when they caught sight
of the developing scene. After they were brought up to speed Chip
whispered his plan to Lee then left to grab one of the tourist maps that
he had seen in the shop. Trudy immediately stepped in and offered the
woman a few supportive words before taking the child
from her arms and rocking him gently to soothe
his cries. “Let’s go over to that small picnic area and talk.” When
the party arrived Lee took a seat directly across the table from the
distraught woman. “Please,
tell me about you father,”
he requested gently. “No, really, I would like
to know about him…whatever you can tell
me.” After
a brief hesitation the woman provided a description of the man’s infirmities as if they were
him. Lee listened patiently but once she finished he pushed for more
specific information about the man, his life, his family and his
interests. “Please, Mrs. Beckley, it’s important.” When
Chip returned, Todd pulled him aside. “Why’s he so interested in his life
story?” Though
he thought he knew, Chip didn’t feel at liberty to
share details of Lee’s past. “Let’s
hear him out,” he said with a shrug. “A few years ago he
started to become forgetful,” she said with a sigh. “When Mom died suddenly he
moved in with us.” Though
she didn’t know why she trusted
these total strangers, Ronda Beckley went on to describe a man who was
born in poverty, was a veteran of World War II, a loving and doting
father and wonderful husband. Loyal to a fault, he was always doing
things for others, from repairing their cars or fences to digging wells.
“He’s never been a church-going
man but he’s lived a good life. And I
love and…this is hard to say, I really
miss him.” “I understand.” As Lee had suspected, Bill
Harper was very much like John
Gardiner
his own maternal grandfather; a once vital man with whom he had spent
several summers and whose light had faded away long before he died at
the age of sixty-three. “I think he may have seen
something around here that drew his interest. Did he get agitated or
overly excited about or something yesterday?” The
woman shook her head. “Not that I remember. We
drove up yesterday morning. Mostly we hung around the camp, but we made
a couple of visits to the store for some cold drinks. Last night we
stayed up late and watched the stars.” “Hmmm. There’s one other thing. Does your
father have any recognizable features? Maybe a scar, or a tattoo?” “Yes, as a matter of
fact. He calls it a war eagle. It’s on his right forearm.
His entire platoon got them.” “That’s good to know.” Lee
motioned the officers over. “Chip, what did you find
on the map?” “Just a lot of
campgrounds, cabins and lodges… and about ten
restaurants and a couple of schools. There are no historic sites or
markers in town. It’s the river that seems to be
the big attraction.” “Why don’t you try and recruit some
help and check out the river?” “On my way.” “Todd, could I impose on
you to contact the authorities? I’m not sure they’ll do much since he hasn’t been gone long, but it’s worth a try.” “Absolutely,” answered Gurley as he turned
to his wife. “Do you mind staying with
Mrs. Beckley for a little while?” “Not at all.” “I’ll be back,” said Lee as he lowered
himself into the Cobra. “I can cover more ground
in the car.” As
he scanned both sides of the road for the missing man Lee’s thoughts soon turned to his childhood and the
summers spent with his grandfather. He grinned when he recalled the day he was
asked to walk to the neighborhood market and pick up a few groceries.
Accustomed to the sheltered life of
military bases and only eight years old at the time, he had felt proud
to be entrusted with such an important errand. That pride had quickly
turned to embarrassment when he discovered he had too little money to
pay for everything on his list. Unsure which items were the most
important, he had returned to his grandparent’s house empty-handed. There he
had found the older man waiting with a gleam in his eye and several
dollar bills in his hand. He had learned a valuable lesson on
preparedness and on life outside the military. It was but one of many
such gifts from his grandfather. Thoughts
of his market adventure had given Lee an idea and when he spotted a
small mom and pop store at the edge of town he decided to stop in. “Morning, “he said to the young couple manning the counter. “Have either of you seen an
older man, in overalls, eagle tattoo?” The
man peered around Lee. “Fancy car you got there.
Italian?” Lee
shook his head. “It’s British-American, actually. There’s a British car show and rally
this weekend. About the man…” “That’s why we’ve seen a bunch of ‘em
over the last few days.” Lee
nodded. “I’m sorry, the man, he could be in danger.” “Yeah, yeah, he was here,” announced the proprietor as
he stood and straightened a display. “Early this morning. He
picked up a lot of things but didn’t buy any.” “Did he say anything?
Give you an idea where he was going?” “He wasn’t making a whole lot of sense.
When we said we couldn’t understand him he
turned around and left. ” “By chance did you see
were he went?” “Nope. Got busy ‘bout then.” “Thanks for your help.” Lee
turned to go but a rack of postcards near the door triggered an image of
his grandfather, an avid stamp collector, poring over his albums, his
shaky fingers tracing the edges of each pane. He turned back. “The post office, is it near here?” “Two blocks east, one
block south.” **** 93271. The single number over
the door of the small wood frame building that held the post office was
testament to the small size of the community. Hopeful that the
close-knit residents that gathered there each morning had seen Harper,
Lee stepped inside. The news he received from the clerk and a patron was
both good and bad. “Yes, he was here, but it’s been a couple hours.” Lee
grimaced. “Did he say anything
about where he might be heading?”
“He stopped by for his
mailbag. Said he was in charge of mail call today. Then he went on and
on about his “Did you see which
direction he went?” The
two women shook their heads. “Thanks.”
Lee
was standing on the porch mulling over his next step when he heard the
distant roar of jets. At that moment a bright yellow MGB drove past. The
couple inside were smiling and laughing, obviously enjoying the car and
their time together.
Recalling Chip’s earlier comment about
toys he chuckled to himself then stepped down and reached to open his
own car door. It suddenly dawned on him that the answer to where the
missing man had gone had been right in front of him all along. Toys…
That’s
got to be it! **** Once
Lee arrived at the car show field it was only a matter of minutes before
he located Bill Harper. As expected, the older man had his head under
the hood of a shiny black Humber Pullman automobile. The cars were
commonly used by the British as staff vehicles and limousines during WW
II and Lee guessed that Harper had spent time during the war maintaining
them. He was sure Harper had demonstrated his knowledge for the owner to
have allowed a total stranger to tinker with such a prized possession. Lee
pulled the car’s owner aside and after
a short conversation he stepped over to the car, reached into the engine
compartment and removed the distributor cap to check the points. After
making a minor adjustment he wiped a small amount of grease from the
outside and the replaced the cap. As he tightened the bolts he glanced
over at Harper. “You look like you know a
lot about these.” The
older man looked up and eyed the tall, dark newcomer then continued with
his task. “Uh huh. Been stationed here
for six months.” “What’s your assignment?” “Who’s askin’?” “Name’s Crane. I’m new here.” “General’s motor pool. Well, Crane,
since you’re the new man you can hand me
tools and run errands.” Lee
hid his grin and stood at his station ready to assist the mechanic. **** “Dad!” Ronda
Beckley wrapped her arms around Bill Harper and he backed away in
confusion. “Whoa, lady. No civilians
allowed in here.” Harper
furrowed his brow and muttered something unintelligible before he turned
and walked towards the As
Lee watched the uncomfortable reunion, he couldn’t
help but feel empathy for Lee
walked over to where Chip, the Gurleys and a small group of car owners
stood and handed the keys to the Cobra to his blond friend. “No
need for you to miss out on the ride. You can pick me up here when you
get back.” “What are you planning to
do?” “I think I might get him
to come around. It just might take awhile.” “You sure?” Lee
nodded. “Go on and get started.” “Okay, Lee, see you
later.” The
group dispersed, leaving only Lee and the “Harper, why don’t you and I take a ride and
test her out?” **** When
Lee, Bill Harper and the Beckleys arrived at the south entrance of the Past
spectacular scenery and gawking tourists, through multiple switchbacks
and up steep inclines the rallyers made their way along the “Mr. Crane, do you mind
being in one with us?” asked Ronda Beckley
with a smile. With
a nod Lee consented and took his place of honor behind Bill Harper. **** Though
it had not turned out quite like he had planned, Lee had thoroughly
enjoyed his weekend so when he set out for home he was upbeat. However,
once he made the turn on the highway that would lead him into “Lee?” Caught
off guard, Lee tried to hide his discomfit by tossing out a joke. Chip
was not about to fall for the ploy. “Maybe you need to talk
about it.” “Just need to get
readjusted to the change in altitude.”
Had
he received that explanation from anyone else Chip would have laughed
out loud, but he knew any response would push the wrong buttons so he
opted to remain silent. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep a close eye on his
friend for the weeks to come. Finis
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