A Commodore of Errors (26 page)

Johnson called the meeting to order. He suggested they handle Mayor Mogelefsky's business first. The widows were quick to agree. Johnson assured the board that the allegations brought by Mayor Mogelefsky were unfounded and that in the best interests of the institution they so proudly served, the matter could best be handled with a simple vote.

Miss Beebee raised her hand. “I hate to be a bother, sir, but it has come to my attention that there might be a photo of the allegedly alleged allegation? You all know how I am. I like to go along so that we can all get along. But what better way to clear your good name than with photographic evidence? How's that saying go? A picture—”

“A picture is worth a—” the widow Coffee continued.

“A thousand words,” the widow Willowsby said, looking proud to have finally spoken up in a board meeting.

Johnson glanced at his buddy Cooper. They'd talked about this before the meeting, and it was at least possible he could bull his way through this.

“I make a motion,” Captain Cooper said, “that the board extend a vote of confidence in the job—”

“It is my understanding that there are pictures?” Miss Beebee said again. She looked in the direction of the widows. Mrs. Coffee lowered her eyes.

“I heard it as well,” Mrs. Coffee said into her hand.

Johnson conferred with Cooper. Cooper just gave him a shrug, as if to say, “What else can we do but call their bluff?”

“Well, Miss Beebee?” Johnson said. “Can someone produce these photographs?”

Miss Beebee looked at Mrs. Coffee who looked at the Commodore. When the Commodore did not speak up, Mrs. Coffee cleared her throat. After another awkward moment of silence, Miss Beebee turned around in her seat. “Would the Commodore like to address the board this morning?”

The Commodore stood up.

“I am a stickler for parliamentary procedure, as you all know.” The Commodore pulled out a plain brown envelope and smiled at Mrs. Coffee when he said it. “Do I have permission to address the chair, sir?”

Johnson looked at Cooper and threw up his hands. The Commodore had done it. He'd gotten Mogie's picture. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Mr. Chair, ladies and gentlemen of the board, I have been asked by Mayor Mogelefsky to bring his business before the board.”

“Did you bring the pictures?” Miss Beebee said. Johnson sighed audibly.

“The mayor brings serious charges of improper conduct—”

“Of a sexual nature,” Miss Beebee pointed out.

The Commodore glared at Miss Beebee. “Correct, Miss Beebee. Now if I may proceed uninterrupted?”

Miss Beebee folded her hands primly and nodded her assent.

“As I was saying, the mayor has decided, in effect, to hold us hostage. If the board does not take consequential action against Admiral Johnson, the mayor has threatened to take the lurid photograph public. It would be a stain on this great academy's reputation. This board cannot allow that to happen.”

The widow Willowsby winked at the widow Coffee. “He said ‘lurid.'”

“The photograph must stay in-house,” Miss Beebee pronounced. She held out her hand to the Commodore and indicated that he hand over the photograph to her.

The Commodore held on to the photo.

“The mayor has one more demand. As you know, the academy and the town of Great Neck have been at odds for quite some time. Our boys have been known to get a tad rambunctious when they are in town on liberty. To us they are good boys blowing off a little steam, but to the mayor's constituents they are ruffians. Because the mayor's constituents are predominantly Jewish, the mayor believes we can greatly improve our relations with the town by installing a Jewish superintendent.”

The widows gasped.

“But we like the academy just the way it is,” Mrs. Willowsby protested.

“We don't like to make changes for changes' sake,” Mrs. Coffee agreed.

Miss Beebee leaned forward and spread her hands on the table. “We may be accused of being restrictive, you know.”

“But we are not restrictive,” Mrs. Coffee said. “We get a Jewish boy almost every year.”

“The spotlight will be on each one of us,” Miss Beebee cautioned. “The highly-paid executives of West Virginia Mining came under scrutiny when they tried to cut the wages of the miners. Their country club memberships, their fancy cars. It was all brought out in the papers. The same can happen to us.”

“Ash didn't leave me a fancy car,” Mrs. Willowsby said.

“But how about your country club?” Miss Beebee said. “How many members are Jews?”

“Well,” the widow Willowsby said, “I'm not sure. Surely we have at least one Jewish family at the club.”

“Not one,” Miss Beebee said. “Silver Oaks was restrictive when Ash joined. Still is. It's been in the papers.”

“Oh my. I had no idea.”

“The mayor has a hold over us,” the Commodore said, looking at the others. “Our best course of action is to capitulate. For the good of the academy.”
The Commodore braced himself and turned to Johnson. “Sir, you have served this academy with distinction. However, the time has come to step down.”

Johnson put his hands up in surrender. At least he could go gracefully. “Members of the board, I figured the mayor would do something like this. I am prepared to resign. To fall on my sword. For the sake of my alma mater, I have prepared a letter of resignation. I would have brought it with me but I seem to have misplaced it.”

“We believe it is important to be on record with the photograph,” Miss Beebee said. “We should make it part of the minutes of the meeting. For safekeeping.”

“I don't think that's necessary, Miss Beebee,” Johnson said. “I've already tendered my—”

Miss Beebee slammed her fist on the conference table. “I want that photo!”

She stood up and faced the Commodore. West Virginia Mining did not hire Miss Beebee for her deliberate language only. Miss Beebee stood six feet tall and was not embarrassed to use her stature when necessary. She had famously stared down a gang of angry miners in the wildcat strike of ‘77. The Commodore was no match for her withering stare. She again held out her hand for the photo. The Commodore complied.

The widows jumped out of their seats and snatched the photo from Miss Beebee. They all looked at the photo together, each of them holding a corner of it with their fingers. They stared at the photo for a long time. Then they raised their heads and looked at Johnson.

“That's it?” the ladies said.

Blood rushed to Johnson's face.

“I did not know Ms. Paultz had a camera in her desk drawer,” Johnson said. “I was caught off guard. That's not my normal self you see there.” Johnson was stammering. “I'm . . . I'm . . . I'm bigger than that.”

The ladies studied the picture intently.

“We were expecting more,” Mrs. Coffee said.

“Perhaps there's a magnifying glass?” Mrs. Willowsby asked.

Johnson jumped up from the table. “A magnifying glass!” Johnson looked to his good friend Cooper.

Cooper put up his hands. “Hey, buddy, you've been telling everybody you're the biggest all these years. The ladies do not appear to agree with you, big guy.”

Johnson threw his agenda down on the table. “But I am the biggest. Besides, I've already resigned. This isn't fair.”

The Commodore reached in to take the photo back from the ladies. The ladies did not try to keep it. The Commodore placed the photo in his breast pocket.

“What a disappointment,” Mrs. Coffee said.

Johnson turned again to Cooper. Cooper turned his back on him. Just then the door to the wardroom opened.

It was the nurse.

“May I ask what business you have with the board?” Mrs. Coffee asked.

“Why, I'm here as character witness for the admiral.” The nurse looked at Johnson. “Surprise.”

Johnson smiled weakly.
Could this get any worse?

“And how do you know the admiral?” Mrs. Coffee asked.

“I'm his girlfriend.”

The widows clucked their tongues.

Johnson didn't have to take any more of this. He walked over to the bulkhead behind him and yanked his hat off the hook. He pulled the hat low over his eyes and walked past the ladies with his head down.

“What's going on?” the nurse said. Johnson said nothing and they left the wardroom.

“The poor thing,” the widows said.

Miss Beebee agreed. “All this time he thought he was the biggest.”

“If I heard it once, I heard it a thousand times,” Cooper said.

Mrs. Coffee brought them back to business. “Well, we need a formal letter of resignation to make it official.”

“I have it right here.” The Commodore reached into his pocket, past the “lurid” photo he'd taken of Johnson and Miss Lambright, fully clothed on the
Murphy bed, and withdrew the resignation letter Miss Lambright had typed. He laid it on the table. The ladies gathered around the letter and read it aloud:

Dear Bored Governors:

I get to reform you I'm here to buy a sign. Being tired with my family is the art of indecision. Just nine remain suspectfully remitted.

Admiral Johnson

The ladies looked at one another.

“The poor thing,” they said again.

The Commodore spoke up. “In my opinion, the stress of being ‘the biggest' took a toll on our dear admiral.”

“Judging from the photograph, I really can't see what all the fuss was about,” Mrs. Coffee said again.

The widow Willowsby and Miss Beebee shook their heads, agreeing with their colleague.

“Be that as it may,” the Commodore said, “judging by the resignation letter, the man has suffered some sort of breakdown. He deserves our pity. Well, enough about him. Back to the business at hand.” The Commodore walked around the conference table to Johnson's chair. “May I take a seat?”

The Commodore did not wait for a response. He sat in the chairman's seat and smoothed his hands over the mahogany table. A shiver went up his spine. How long had he waited for this, and now it was within his grasp.

“Ladies and gentleman,” the Commodore said, “the mayor wants a Jewish superintendent. I have found just the man. His name is Captain Tannenbaume. He is a respected member of the maritime community. He and his lovely wife, Sylvia, will be available to join our team in time for the unveiling of the Mariners Monument. So you see? The all-important business of the United States Merchant Marine Academy will continue uninterrupted.”

Miss Beebee was the first to respond. “This Captain Tannenbaume, is he a good talker? I mean, can he verbalize?”

“Captain Tannenbaume is a superb speaker,” the Commodore said. “Any other questions about the captain's qualifications?”

“Is he a good dancer?” Mrs. Willowsby asked.

“He is a superb dancer,” the Commodore said.

“Is he tall?” Mrs. Coffee asked.

“My understanding is that he is above average in height.”

The ladies nodded their heads.

“He sounds perfect,” Mrs. Willowsby stated.

“Yes, indeed,” the Commodore said. “Now, do we have a motion to make Captain Tannenbaume the next superintendent of the United States Merchant Marine Academy?”

Miss Beebee made the motion. Mrs. Coffee seconded. The motion passed unanimously. The Commodore stood up.

“I am not a member of the board,” the Commodore said. “Far be for me to interject. However, it has been a trying meeting. Perhaps now would be a good time to adjourn?”

Miss Beebee made a motion to adjourn. She asked Mrs. Willowsby if she would second the motion. Mrs. Willowsby blushed.

“Why, I suppose I could,” Mrs. Willowsby said.

When Mrs. Coffee read the motion to adjourn by Miss Beebee as seconded by Mrs. Willowsby, the ladies could not keep from smiling.

The Commodore read their minds. “My, my, ladies, you are acting like bona fide board members.”

“We
are
bona fide board members!” the ladies chanted in unison.