Bin Laden's Bald Spot: & Other Stories

Blue

58 BLue Blue was the regiment drunk. He looked just like W.C. Fields with the big red nose and everything. He was useless but he was the sweetest guy, not a mean bone in his body. He was just a drunk, is all. Drunk morning noon and night. Drunk from the minute he opened his eyes until the minute he shut them. The Army took everyone then. One time we went out on a mission on our gunboats and when we got pretty deep into the bay we discovered our compasses didn’t work. They were skewing all over the place. We thought it was some kind of magnetism thing but then we figured out they’d been drained. Compasses then were built so the needle floated on a little sea of alcohol. Blue had been sentry for the second shift and he carefully opened each one and drank the juice and then put them back together. We sat there in the dark for a minute, no one talking. Get Blue over here, says the lieutenant. Blue gets hustled over from another boat. He’s drunk. Bristol, says the lieutenant. You drank the alcohol from the compasses. Yes, sir, says Blue. Putting the regiment in danger. Yes, sir. Brian Doyle | 59 That’s a crime, Bristol. Blue doesn’t say anything. That’s jail time, Bristol. Blue doesn’t say anything. Treachery, Bristol. We all sit there silent for a minute and there’s no sound except the lap lap lap of the little waves against the boats. We should move, sir, says Mahon. In a minute, Mahon, says the lieutenant, and something in the way he says it makes us realize what’s happening. He’s had enough. Blue has stolen food and gas for booze, he traded his rifle for booze, he stole a truck and traded it for booze. He went AWOL and caused a wreck and he was the reason Gabe got shot at Ormoc. I should shoot you in the head, Bristol, says the lieutenant. Blue smiles, a little confused and a lot drunk. Or leave you in the bay, says the lieutenant. He’d make noise, sir, says Mahon. Not if I shoot him in the head first, says the lieutenant. We all sit there for another minute listening to the lap lap lap of the little waves. I don’t think the gunshot is a good idea, sir, says Mahon. I’m sorry, sir, says Blue, sensing something bad. Tie him to the gunwale, head down, says the lieutenant. Sir? says Mahon. He can drink all he wants with his head in the water, says the lieutenant. Mahon and I are the nearest to Blue and we have no choice but to hang him over the side of my boat and tie him to the gunwale. Blue’s sobering a little now but he’s not sober enough to fight back and he hangs over the side like a dead dog. The top of his head is in the water and as soon as the boat starts up he’ll drown if the bucking of the boat doesn’t smash his brains out. Mahon and I straighten up and wait for what’s next. Hey, you guys, says Blue faintly. Back to base, says the lieutenant. He’ll drown, says Mahon quietly. 60 | Bin Laden’s Bald Spot That’s the idea, Mahon. That’s murder, sir, says Mahon. No, Mahon, says the lieutenant. It’s the punishment he deserves. When we get back to base he goes to jail. He’ll die on the way, says Mahon. People die, Mahon, says the lieutenant. This is murder, sir, says Mahon. Mahon, you are relieved of duty. Get in Gabe’s boat. Mahon has no choice but to get in Gabe’s boat. The lieutenant goes back to his boat. Each boat has two men, a gunner and a pilot, both of whom are also mechanics too. Mahon is my gunner . Blue is supposedly a gunner but he’s never fired a gun and no one would let him near the pilot’s seat. Mostly when we were going somewhere he just sat in the bow and held on. He had sea legs, I give him that—maybe because they were so rubbery. But he never got sick or anything. He was getting sick now, though, all over himself, either from...