Scarecrow and Mrs. King
“Unexpected Beginnings”
Written by Anne Riener
“Unexpected Beginnings”
Written by Anne Riener
Dragging his feet, little eight-year-old Lee Stetson was brusquely pushed into the mess hall kitchen by his uncle. Holding Lee firmly by the forearm, Major Robert Clayton cleared his throat announcing their presence to the cook on duty.
Sergeant Dorsey, a squat middle-aged man with close-cropped hair and a continual smile, turned around and greeted them both, “Major.” He saluted and then gave a slight nod to Lee. “Hello again, Lee.”
Lee did not say anything, but looked around the immense kitchen with gray interior walls. He saw copper-colored pots and pans lying on wire mesh shelves and some even hung from the ceiling above a large commercial cook stove. Several ovens stacked on top of each other were built into a wall beside the stove. He also observed a long metal counter with a deep stainless-steel sink in the middle. Above the sink, there was a huge rubber hose attached to the faucet that was suspended from the ceiling. Beside the sink was an industrial dishwasher with slide-up doors on both sides. Lee knew how it worked. The rack, once loaded full of dishes was slid into the opening. The door was then closed down and latched, and when the machine was turned on, hot stream could be seen pouring from the doors. About ten minutes later, the other door was slid up and the person washing the dishes pulled the clean dishes out. The strong odor of coffee hung in the air, mingled with the smell of greasy meat and cigarette smoke. The Major nudged him. “What do you say, boy?”
“Hello, Mr. Dorsey,” Lee shyly replied.
“This is the Armed Forces, Lee. We say, “Hello, Sir or Sergeant Dorsey,” the Major corrected him.
“Yes, Sir,” Lee answered back, looking down at his unlaced Converse sneakers. “Hello, Sergeant Dorsey,” he mumbled.
“Got to teach them young.” Robert Clayton slapped Lee on the back. “Learn some respect.”
“It’s okay, Sir. No need to stand on formalities with me.” Barney wiped his hands on his grubby white bib apron. “Call me either Barney or Sarge, okay, Lee.”
“You haven’t been with us very long Sergeant Dorsey, have you?” The Major questioned, stretching to his full six-foot frame.
“Aye, Sir.”
“I believe in leading with a firm hand when it comes to either my recruits or my nephew.” He held a firm grip on Lee’s shoulder.
“Yes, Sir, but I don’t tell you how to train your men and you won’t tell me how to run my kitchen.”
“Fair enough,” Lee heard his uncle say and he stood there slacked-jaw. He could not believe his uncle had backed down from a fight. His uncle then said, “Do you have any children, Sergeant?”
“Yes, two of them.” Barney walked toward the selves and grabbed a large pot from the bottom shelf.
“Didn’t you ever wish they came with training manuals?”
“No, Sir, I can’t say that I did. It’s a lot of trial and error.” He walked over to a butcher block, placed the pot down and then pulled out a couple of paring knives from a drawer.
Major Clayton shrugged his broad shoulders. “Lots of errors if you ask me. This one needs some good old-fashioned discipline. I loved my half-brother and all, but I think he and Jennie were too lax with the boy.”
Lee’s face burned red and he clenched his fists.
“He seems like a good kid to me.”
The Major rubbed his chin. “He’s my charge now. And if he’s going to talk like an adult, he’s going to be treated like one and has to deal with the consequences of his actions and can do grownup tasks, like KP duty.” He placed his cover on his head. “Well, I have to go report to Brass now. I’ll be back at 1600 hours.” The Major turned to head out the door and then placing his hand on the door frame, he said, “Good luck with this one.”
The door swung close behind him.
Barney shook his head. “I swear.”
“Don’t do that, Mr. . . I mean Barney. That’s what got me in trouble.” Lee looked up to him with troubled hazel eyes.
Barney ran his hand over Lee’s short-cropped hair and sized the boy up. Lee was dressed in beige cargo shorts, a cream-colored polo shirt, ankle-length white socks and tennis shoes. “It’s okay, Son. Why don’t you pull up a chair? You can help me by peeling these potatoes.”
Lee nodded his head and then finding a chair in the corner of the kitchen; he dragged it over to the butcher’s block and climbed up.
Barney grabbed a garbage can and rolled it toward them. He looked at the boy sympathetically, and sighed, but moved forward with his duties. “Okay, let’s get started. Here, let me show you what to do. Let’s see, you’re left handed, right?”
Lee nodded his head.
“I want you to grasp the potato firmly with your right hand. Then with your other hand, hold the peeler with the blade facing the potato. Applying pressure, shave the potato down and away from yourself. Turn the potato slightly, adjust your grip, and repeat until all the skin has been removed. The skins just drop into the can.”
“Like this?” Lee asked, cutting into the potato.
“That’s right. Then when all the skin has been peeled off, place the potato on the counter.”
Lee eagerly shaved a potato, but then accidentally dropped it into the garbage can. Barney tried to hide a smirk as he picked the potato out of the trash, walked over to the sink to wash it off and handed it back to Lee. After he dropped one for the second time, he chewed on his lip, concentrating hard on the task. The cook examined Lee’s handiwork, nodded his head, grabbed a potato himself, and began to peel it.
Several moments had passed and Lee wiped his hand over his brow, leaving grime on his forehead. Using the edge of his apron, Barney cleaned the dirt off Lee’s face. He then returned to his task.
“So, what do you think of the Philippines?” Barney asked him, while cutting off the rotten end of a potato.
“It sucks.” Lee dug the potato peeler into the pale beech wood. “Whoops, I’m not supposed to say that!”
“Why? There’s nothing wrong with expressing your opinion.” From the corner of his eyes, he observed Lee shrug his shoulders while he continued to slice deeper into the block of wood. “My children hated it every time we moved, too.”
Lee stopped playing with the paring knife. “Do you have a boy? Is he my age?”
“I have a son. . . and a daughter, but they are both grown now. My son actually just joined the Army.”
Lee perked up for a moment. “My dad was in the Army. He worked in military intelligence.” Lee then grew silent again, his eyes downcast. “He didn’t come back home. . . Mum either.” His voice cracked and tears began to fill his eyes.
Barney lifted his cover off his head, wiped his brow, put his hat back on, and then put his arm around Lee. “I know.”
Lee wiped under his nose with the back of his hand. “My uncle says we won’t be staying here long. I hope not. I miss Ginger.”
“Ginger?” Barney reached over, grabbing a dishrag from the sink, and then wiped Lee’s hands.
Lee went back to peeling potatoes. “Yeah, my orange tabby cat. Actually, she was Mum’s cat; she brought her all the way from London. That was where my mom was from. She stayed in America after she met my dad. They met at Nano, but I don’t know where that is.”
“Nano?” Barney pondered Lee’s comment for a moment and then smiled. “I think you mean NATO?”
“Yeah, NATO.” Viciously he sliced into the defenseless vegetable and his jaw twitched unconsciously. “My uncle didn’t want to take what he called a “smelly-old cat” to California, but I’m all she has left.”
“Who has her now?” Barney asked him.
“Had to leave her behind at Andrews.” His tone softened. “Mrs. Cooper is taking care of her for me, while we’re gone.”
“That’s nice of Mrs. Cooper. Is she your friend?”
“She’s our neighbor. Sometimes she watches me when my uncle is out on maneuvers.” Lee ran his hand over his nearly bald head. His uncle had called it a crew cut. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You’re a lot nicer than my uncle.”
Barney turned his head to hide his smile. “Your uncle loves you.”
“Yeah, right.” Lee frowned and then scoffed bitterly. “Then why does he call me “diaper duty?” I mean, I haven’t worn diapers since I was a baby.”
Barney grimaced.
“Want to know a secret?” Lee leaned in and whispered.
Barney whispered back, “Sure.”
Lee glanced around the room making sure they were alone. “I know why we are here at Clark Air Base.”
Barney blinked, seemingly taken a little off guard. “You do?”
“Yep. Overheard my uncle on the phone the other night, something about Commies and Vietnam. And that’s why we’re here.” Lee accidentally dropped another potato into the garbage can, then squatting in the chair, he fished it out.
Barney took the potato from him and washed it off. “Don’t let your uncle catch you spying.”
“Oh, I know it. The punishment would be a lot worse than having my mouth washed out with soap or doing KP duty. He’d tan my hide, for sure.”
“Lee, are you familiar with the expression “Need to know”?”
Timidly, Lee shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, how about “Loose lips, sink ships”?”
“Yes, that one I know.”
“And what does it mean?”
“It means that sometimes we have to keep secrets to protect others.”
“That’s right. Furthermore, you need to be careful who you repeat things to. So, let's leave Vietnam between you and I, okay?”
Lee nodded his head several times.
“What did you do to earn KP duty? Must have been something pretty serious for a boy your age.”
“My uncle wouldn’t even give me a chance to explain. He was just mad that the principal called and needed to speak to him about me.”
“And why did the school call?”
Giving a tiny shrug, Lee looked down at the floor, color rose to his cheeks. “I got in trouble for swearing, but I didn’t say nothin' I haven’t heard coming from the barracks.”
Barney cringed. “Lee, let’s have a little chat.” He patted the butcher-block countertop and Lee hopped up and sat down. His long, thin legs hung out from his shorts as he swung them back and forth. “I know you have had to do a lot of growing up the last couple of years, but that does not mean you need to use grown-up language.”
“Do you swear, Barney?” Lee asked him.
“Well, I guess just about everyone does from time to time. But that’s not the point.” He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “Okay, let me try this another way. Would you swear in front of your mother?”
“No, she would have been mad. I probably would have received punishment a lot worse than a smack on the wrist with a ruler and my mouth washed out with Lifeboy. She didn’t even like it when Dad said damn.”
“So your mother would be disappointed in you, wouldn’t she?”
“Yes.” His feet swung faster. Barney placed his hand on Lee’s knee, stilling the movement. He then looked over at the garbage can. “Do you know why I cut off the bad pieces of the potato and throw them away?”
“Sure, because no one wants to eat the rotten part.”
“That’s right. Well, you see cuss words are "trash can words" and that is where they belong. Plus, swearing in anger never solved a problem.”
Regret crossed Lee’s face and he averted his eyes.
Barney put his hand under Lee’s chin and gently forced him to look up. “Alexander Pope once said, “To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise.” Do you understand?”
The softhearted United States Air Force cook watched a parade of emotions play across Lee’s face and then he nodded in reluctant understanding.
"I think so,” Lee answered. His stomach then growled in protest and he smiled sheepishly.
Barney grinned back at him. “Why don’t I rustle you up something to eat and then we can finish these potatoes, okay?”
“Thanks, Barney.” Lee hopped off the counter and Barney put his arm around his shoulder as he led him toward the icebox. “You know what?”
“What?” Barney asked, tweaking Lee’s nose.
“This doesn’t even feel like punishment. Would it be okay if I help you again?”
“Anytime, Lee. I enjoyed your company.”
Lee beamed from ear to ear. Maybe the Philippines weren’t so bad after all.
Sergeant Dorsey, a squat middle-aged man with close-cropped hair and a continual smile, turned around and greeted them both, “Major.” He saluted and then gave a slight nod to Lee. “Hello again, Lee.”
Lee did not say anything, but looked around the immense kitchen with gray interior walls. He saw copper-colored pots and pans lying on wire mesh shelves and some even hung from the ceiling above a large commercial cook stove. Several ovens stacked on top of each other were built into a wall beside the stove. He also observed a long metal counter with a deep stainless-steel sink in the middle. Above the sink, there was a huge rubber hose attached to the faucet that was suspended from the ceiling. Beside the sink was an industrial dishwasher with slide-up doors on both sides. Lee knew how it worked. The rack, once loaded full of dishes was slid into the opening. The door was then closed down and latched, and when the machine was turned on, hot stream could be seen pouring from the doors. About ten minutes later, the other door was slid up and the person washing the dishes pulled the clean dishes out. The strong odor of coffee hung in the air, mingled with the smell of greasy meat and cigarette smoke. The Major nudged him. “What do you say, boy?”
“Hello, Mr. Dorsey,” Lee shyly replied.
“This is the Armed Forces, Lee. We say, “Hello, Sir or Sergeant Dorsey,” the Major corrected him.
“Yes, Sir,” Lee answered back, looking down at his unlaced Converse sneakers. “Hello, Sergeant Dorsey,” he mumbled.
“Got to teach them young.” Robert Clayton slapped Lee on the back. “Learn some respect.”
“It’s okay, Sir. No need to stand on formalities with me.” Barney wiped his hands on his grubby white bib apron. “Call me either Barney or Sarge, okay, Lee.”
“You haven’t been with us very long Sergeant Dorsey, have you?” The Major questioned, stretching to his full six-foot frame.
“Aye, Sir.”
“I believe in leading with a firm hand when it comes to either my recruits or my nephew.” He held a firm grip on Lee’s shoulder.
“Yes, Sir, but I don’t tell you how to train your men and you won’t tell me how to run my kitchen.”
“Fair enough,” Lee heard his uncle say and he stood there slacked-jaw. He could not believe his uncle had backed down from a fight. His uncle then said, “Do you have any children, Sergeant?”
“Yes, two of them.” Barney walked toward the selves and grabbed a large pot from the bottom shelf.
“Didn’t you ever wish they came with training manuals?”
“No, Sir, I can’t say that I did. It’s a lot of trial and error.” He walked over to a butcher block, placed the pot down and then pulled out a couple of paring knives from a drawer.
Major Clayton shrugged his broad shoulders. “Lots of errors if you ask me. This one needs some good old-fashioned discipline. I loved my half-brother and all, but I think he and Jennie were too lax with the boy.”
Lee’s face burned red and he clenched his fists.
“He seems like a good kid to me.”
The Major rubbed his chin. “He’s my charge now. And if he’s going to talk like an adult, he’s going to be treated like one and has to deal with the consequences of his actions and can do grownup tasks, like KP duty.” He placed his cover on his head. “Well, I have to go report to Brass now. I’ll be back at 1600 hours.” The Major turned to head out the door and then placing his hand on the door frame, he said, “Good luck with this one.”
The door swung close behind him.
Barney shook his head. “I swear.”
“Don’t do that, Mr. . . I mean Barney. That’s what got me in trouble.” Lee looked up to him with troubled hazel eyes.
Barney ran his hand over Lee’s short-cropped hair and sized the boy up. Lee was dressed in beige cargo shorts, a cream-colored polo shirt, ankle-length white socks and tennis shoes. “It’s okay, Son. Why don’t you pull up a chair? You can help me by peeling these potatoes.”
Lee nodded his head and then finding a chair in the corner of the kitchen; he dragged it over to the butcher’s block and climbed up.
Barney grabbed a garbage can and rolled it toward them. He looked at the boy sympathetically, and sighed, but moved forward with his duties. “Okay, let’s get started. Here, let me show you what to do. Let’s see, you’re left handed, right?”
Lee nodded his head.
“I want you to grasp the potato firmly with your right hand. Then with your other hand, hold the peeler with the blade facing the potato. Applying pressure, shave the potato down and away from yourself. Turn the potato slightly, adjust your grip, and repeat until all the skin has been removed. The skins just drop into the can.”
“Like this?” Lee asked, cutting into the potato.
“That’s right. Then when all the skin has been peeled off, place the potato on the counter.”
Lee eagerly shaved a potato, but then accidentally dropped it into the garbage can. Barney tried to hide a smirk as he picked the potato out of the trash, walked over to the sink to wash it off and handed it back to Lee. After he dropped one for the second time, he chewed on his lip, concentrating hard on the task. The cook examined Lee’s handiwork, nodded his head, grabbed a potato himself, and began to peel it.
Several moments had passed and Lee wiped his hand over his brow, leaving grime on his forehead. Using the edge of his apron, Barney cleaned the dirt off Lee’s face. He then returned to his task.
“So, what do you think of the Philippines?” Barney asked him, while cutting off the rotten end of a potato.
“It sucks.” Lee dug the potato peeler into the pale beech wood. “Whoops, I’m not supposed to say that!”
“Why? There’s nothing wrong with expressing your opinion.” From the corner of his eyes, he observed Lee shrug his shoulders while he continued to slice deeper into the block of wood. “My children hated it every time we moved, too.”
Lee stopped playing with the paring knife. “Do you have a boy? Is he my age?”
“I have a son. . . and a daughter, but they are both grown now. My son actually just joined the Army.”
Lee perked up for a moment. “My dad was in the Army. He worked in military intelligence.” Lee then grew silent again, his eyes downcast. “He didn’t come back home. . . Mum either.” His voice cracked and tears began to fill his eyes.
Barney lifted his cover off his head, wiped his brow, put his hat back on, and then put his arm around Lee. “I know.”
Lee wiped under his nose with the back of his hand. “My uncle says we won’t be staying here long. I hope not. I miss Ginger.”
“Ginger?” Barney reached over, grabbing a dishrag from the sink, and then wiped Lee’s hands.
Lee went back to peeling potatoes. “Yeah, my orange tabby cat. Actually, she was Mum’s cat; she brought her all the way from London. That was where my mom was from. She stayed in America after she met my dad. They met at Nano, but I don’t know where that is.”
“Nano?” Barney pondered Lee’s comment for a moment and then smiled. “I think you mean NATO?”
“Yeah, NATO.” Viciously he sliced into the defenseless vegetable and his jaw twitched unconsciously. “My uncle didn’t want to take what he called a “smelly-old cat” to California, but I’m all she has left.”
“Who has her now?” Barney asked him.
“Had to leave her behind at Andrews.” His tone softened. “Mrs. Cooper is taking care of her for me, while we’re gone.”
“That’s nice of Mrs. Cooper. Is she your friend?”
“She’s our neighbor. Sometimes she watches me when my uncle is out on maneuvers.” Lee ran his hand over his nearly bald head. His uncle had called it a crew cut. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You’re a lot nicer than my uncle.”
Barney turned his head to hide his smile. “Your uncle loves you.”
“Yeah, right.” Lee frowned and then scoffed bitterly. “Then why does he call me “diaper duty?” I mean, I haven’t worn diapers since I was a baby.”
Barney grimaced.
“Want to know a secret?” Lee leaned in and whispered.
Barney whispered back, “Sure.”
Lee glanced around the room making sure they were alone. “I know why we are here at Clark Air Base.”
Barney blinked, seemingly taken a little off guard. “You do?”
“Yep. Overheard my uncle on the phone the other night, something about Commies and Vietnam. And that’s why we’re here.” Lee accidentally dropped another potato into the garbage can, then squatting in the chair, he fished it out.
Barney took the potato from him and washed it off. “Don’t let your uncle catch you spying.”
“Oh, I know it. The punishment would be a lot worse than having my mouth washed out with soap or doing KP duty. He’d tan my hide, for sure.”
“Lee, are you familiar with the expression “Need to know”?”
Timidly, Lee shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, how about “Loose lips, sink ships”?”
“Yes, that one I know.”
“And what does it mean?”
“It means that sometimes we have to keep secrets to protect others.”
“That’s right. Furthermore, you need to be careful who you repeat things to. So, let's leave Vietnam between you and I, okay?”
Lee nodded his head several times.
“What did you do to earn KP duty? Must have been something pretty serious for a boy your age.”
“My uncle wouldn’t even give me a chance to explain. He was just mad that the principal called and needed to speak to him about me.”
“And why did the school call?”
Giving a tiny shrug, Lee looked down at the floor, color rose to his cheeks. “I got in trouble for swearing, but I didn’t say nothin' I haven’t heard coming from the barracks.”
Barney cringed. “Lee, let’s have a little chat.” He patted the butcher-block countertop and Lee hopped up and sat down. His long, thin legs hung out from his shorts as he swung them back and forth. “I know you have had to do a lot of growing up the last couple of years, but that does not mean you need to use grown-up language.”
“Do you swear, Barney?” Lee asked him.
“Well, I guess just about everyone does from time to time. But that’s not the point.” He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “Okay, let me try this another way. Would you swear in front of your mother?”
“No, she would have been mad. I probably would have received punishment a lot worse than a smack on the wrist with a ruler and my mouth washed out with Lifeboy. She didn’t even like it when Dad said damn.”
“So your mother would be disappointed in you, wouldn’t she?”
“Yes.” His feet swung faster. Barney placed his hand on Lee’s knee, stilling the movement. He then looked over at the garbage can. “Do you know why I cut off the bad pieces of the potato and throw them away?”
“Sure, because no one wants to eat the rotten part.”
“That’s right. Well, you see cuss words are "trash can words" and that is where they belong. Plus, swearing in anger never solved a problem.”
Regret crossed Lee’s face and he averted his eyes.
Barney put his hand under Lee’s chin and gently forced him to look up. “Alexander Pope once said, “To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise.” Do you understand?”
The softhearted United States Air Force cook watched a parade of emotions play across Lee’s face and then he nodded in reluctant understanding.
"I think so,” Lee answered. His stomach then growled in protest and he smiled sheepishly.
Barney grinned back at him. “Why don’t I rustle you up something to eat and then we can finish these potatoes, okay?”
“Thanks, Barney.” Lee hopped off the counter and Barney put his arm around his shoulder as he led him toward the icebox. “You know what?”
“What?” Barney asked, tweaking Lee’s nose.
“This doesn’t even feel like punishment. Would it be okay if I help you again?”
“Anytime, Lee. I enjoyed your company.”
Lee beamed from ear to ear. Maybe the Philippines weren’t so bad after all.