Another Springtime Ch. 13

Chapter 13: On The Beach and Beyond

Staying alert to circumstances around you when one could so easily focus exclusively on a companion like Christine is more challenging than one might imagine. Danger, nevertheless, is frequently close at hand, closer than is comfortable.

We had an experience like this in Southern California shortly after we arrived that summer. Our new apartment was about a half mile from the beach, a really exotic stretch of beach with groves of trees scattered about and in places embankments shielding the beach from the Pacific Coast Highway going past.

Jenny had arrived the day before on the train for a short visit and we had driven down to the beach to play in the sand and surf and have a picnic at noon time. We picked a place on the sand under some trees below a little parking area on a low bluff and the three of us got very relaxed. Jenny had a battery powered two-way radio set with her that belonged to Allan, who was working now for a communications firm as an engineer, and was testing and playing with this set. She wanted to hear me talk on the radio with her like we did between ships and stuff in the Navy. I thought it kind of silly, but she was quite serious. Allan was to join us the following day and she wanted to impress him. OK, anything to keep the girls happy, and so we played with the radios a bit, and I taught them a little of voice radio procedures and such, and to top it off I did my rendition of the three Soviet ships yelling at each other that we had overheard years before. The girls didn't understand the Russian, but they laughed at my antics, and I relived an event that had been a riotous experience for us at sea.

Then Jenny realized she had left her camera behind, and asked if she could drive back and get it. No problem.

Christine teased me that I was such a push-over for my daughter, but was pleased, she said, to see me so kind and generous. I was pleased that she was pleased.

Under her light, flowered beach wrap she had worn her white cotton bikini this day for the first time out of the apartment, telling Jenny jokingly that she felt safe with me as long as the three of us were together. Now, as Jennifer departed, my wife slipped off her wrap and stretched out on the blanket. I noticed right away that she had worn her gossamer top over the suit top, and she was looking up at me like a kitten ready for a romp with her ball of yarn, or whatever...an alternate interpretation of the image might be the virginal young maiden laid out upon the sacrificial altar to appease the fertility gods... or, more likely, to incite them to riotous living! She was nothing short of spectacular, and it was one of the few times she relaxed enough to play with me like that. She was delectable beyond words.

We talked for a few minutes, and I told her what she did to me being so beautiful to look at and be with. She blushed at my compliment, and I kissed her, and she melted in my arms trustingly. Very soon, an amorous and responsive and nearly naked woman in my arms, I knew that, if a spectacle on the beach were to be avoided, I needed to break the spell and get us moving, so I suggested a walk to get our feet wet in the water, and we were off. I considered only briefly what we left behind... her Bikini top, since I had pulled the ties loose and let it fall away, our picnic basket and cooler, and my little canvas case... but figured all would be safe as long as we kept them in sight and didn't go too far. Too, with her pretty breasts unfettered and with a mere breath of gossamer-like raw silk between them and the world, I could not hope to go far without causing a riot, even if we were all alone on the beach. No, for sure, our stroll would not take us far.

How far is too far, nonetheless, when one has a beautiful girl in one's care? It depends on who's watching you.

We walked, hand in hand in the light surf, playing, frolicking together like a couple of kids, chasing the water and the sandpipers. She was delightfully at ease and playful, and more beautiful with me that I can tell you; and I loved the day. We turned back to walk the other way and I noticed an old blue pickup just visible in the parking area just up on the bluff, though I could see no one. There was a surfboard in the back. Commonplace, I thought. We walked back the way we had come, skipping in the water and getting each other thoroughly soaked in the cool, refreshing water. It was great.

At the water's edge just below our blanket we found a little crab beneath a piece of kelp. Very quickly I was reminded of our honeymoon experience before. Dainty and hesitant, in her very feminine way, she was both frightened and grabbed my arm, while curious beyond measure. We ended up on our knees together in the sand watching the tiny little crab's antics until he scampered across the sand and, like his predecessor, disappeared in the surf.

She was ecstatic with excitement at the experience, and full of questions about creatures in the ocean, as were I some world authority on marine biology. Apart from the visual impact of her being such a pretty girl, with her gloriously beautiful breasts free in the breeze and all but bare, her vivacious and curious personality made her an enchanting companion.

We got to our blanket and she knelt down, princess-like, asking for a drink of water. Then, too, she wanted more sunscreen on her shoulders. Holding her top up to her breasts in front of her daintily, she waited for my ministrations. I knew her antics were meant just for me, but she was a real piece of work when she was confident and playful in my presence. I was more than happy to assist, loosed the tie behind her neck – and holding her top up to her breasts with one hand and her hair up away from her neck with the other, she was the personification of feminine beauty and allure... just for me!. Beautiful shoulder and neck, posing just for me, she was... well, how could I possibly describe it? I started to spread the creamy stuff, and it was then that we heard Jenny's radio squawking in the picnic basket.

"Hello, Dad, can you hear me? Please answer me!" We both could hear a note of anxiety in her voice.

My hands were greasy, so Christine retrieved it and pushed the talk button and spoke with the cutest effort at mimicking my earlier official-like drawl:

"ROGER, BABE, THIS IS THE CAPTAIN'S DEPUTY. WE READ YOU FIVERS, OVER"

She was so cute I could hardly contain myself and grinned at her as she looked up at me, proud of herself.

"IS THAT YOU, CHRISTINE?

"ROGER, THIS IS ONE. ARE YOU TWO? IDENTIFY YOURSELF, TWO. ARE YOU JENNIFER? OVER" My girl was getting warmed up to this game and enjoying it, and mimicking the Russian scenario from before.

"OF COURSE, SILLY, WHO ELSE." She was agitated and alarmed, I thought. "DAD, THERE ARE FOUR BOYS UP HERE AT THE EDGE OF THE BLUFF AND ALL JAZZED UP WATCHING YOU TWO DOWN THERE. I'M AFRAID TO GET OUT OF THE CAR. WHAT SHOULD WE DO?"

Before Christine could react and look up to the little bluff above us I took her chin in my hand and bent low as if to kiss her..."Don't look up there, Babe, and just act normal and try to remain relaxed. It's to our advantage if they don't know we know."

She was quick as a wink to grasp my intent, but she could not down play her anxiety.

"I want my wrap on now, Dace." She had one arm across her breasts with the light silk, and the radio and the sunscreen were now forgotten. Modest and proper, she wanted to cover up.

"Tell Jenny to stand by and we'll call her right back."

"TWO THIS IS ONE BREAK STAND BY WE'LL CALL YOU BACK OUT."

I thought that was pretty cool that she had picked up on the procedure and was handling the radio just as if she were at sea. As I tied her top behind her neck and helped her on with her wrap and she bound it quickly around her waist, and I considered our best course of action. Here much of my earlier precautionary planning came to our aid. The car's visor had a little typed placard I had prepared the previous week.

"All right, XO, pass this to Jenny," and I spieled off a set of instructions in segments as I formulated them in my head, and she passed them on as were she the bridge phone talker on my ship at sea. Her modesty restored and covered up now, she was amazing and very steady.

"TWO THIS IS ONE BREAK REMAIN IN THE CAR FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY...

"CALL THE BEACH PATROL ON YOUR CELL PHONE... NUMBER IS ON THE VISOR... REQUEST ASSISTANCE AT LOCATION PARKING LOT THREE SIX... I SAY AGAIN LOT THREE SIX...

"ADVISE IF BOYS ARE STILL IN A GROUP BREAK OVER."

"Roger, I understand, Christine." Jennifer was much more upset than my wife was, judging from her voice. "No, three of them are leaving, going down the bluff, I think, they don't seem to be sure what they are doing."

"Tell her to continue talking to us and tell us what the boys are doing." We couldn't see them from where we were, and knowing their intentions was important.

"JENNY, CONTINUE TO TELL US WHAT THE BOYS ARE DOING...OH, JENNY... DACE HAS HIS GUN HERE. KEEP TALKING TO ME... OVER."

She had seen me unwrapping the canvas pack, and I slipped the Colt into the front of my suit, under the shirt I had put on, and was getting up to move.

"Let's head for the car, Babe, all casual like."

"I'll carry the picnic basket, Dace, OK?" She was quick to stand by me, and knew I would keep my right hand free.

"Thanks, Babe." I hefted the little cooler with the soda, she the basket she and Jenny had packed, and we headed out. "Tell her we're coming."

"WE'RE ON OUR WAY TO YOU, JENNY"

But our way was blocked.

There were three of them, one on the trail to the right, two on another to our left; younger guys, early to mid twenties, scroungey, rough-and-tumble types, unkempt, and I thought any respectable surfer would not be seen dead around them.

"The party is over, fellows!" I spoke confidently and trying not to reflect my own anxiety. I hesitated to move forward because to do so would bring us between them... not to our advantage.

"Well, now, we think the f#$%ing party is just about to begin."

"Yea, with a classy little bitch like her, it's goin' be a grand party."

"Watch you mouth, son. That kinda talk can get you in deep trouble."

"Ooooh, the big man can talk real tough-like." and with that the lead fellow on the left started forward.

"Whoa," I held up my hand for him to keep his distance, "right where you are, kid." Twenty feet was all that separated us now and that was close enough for me.

"You don't give no orders here, old man." Yet, he had stopped, I noticed.

Well, it's best to negotiate from a position of strength, and with that the 1911 Colt appeared in my hand from under my shirt.

"As a matter of fact, sonny," I said, as casually as I could, "Ido give the orders here."

The fellow to my right started to move as if to get behind me. That would have been disaster, so I pointed the Colt right at his chest, and then, having his complete attention, motioned him to my left to join the others.

"Move it, junior!" I barked.

The fellow was a little quicker to move now, but still sullen.

"Call your pals down here."

"There ain't but just us three," said the lead fellow on the left, a smirk on his face. With his brash return he told me that he had missed our exchange on the hand-held radios altogether. He may have been watching closely, but he missed that little detail.

I leveled the Colt at his chest.

"Don't mess with me, kid. Call 'em!"

No response.

He was a tough cookie, or trying' to be; but not very smart.

"There are three of us, to your one." He was trying to bulldoze me and save face with his fellows.

"Well, you're a math whiz, too, eh, son." The fellow on my right stood close to the other two now.

"Call 'em!"

Indecision. No action one way or another. This was actually to our advantage, since by their indecision they had conceded their aggression for the moment. The trick now was to resolve the matter and get out of there with no injuries.

"You know," I started out very slowly, "one of these slugs'll take that leg of yours right off, just cleaner 'n a whistle, and if it hits a bone...."

His fists were clenching. Pride was at stake and he was obstinate, and trying to decide how to gauge me; clearly they had not anticipated me having a pistol. Well, isn't that just too bad.

Though stopped, his reactions were still unpredictable, looking for an opening.

I had not really thought they would be so stubborn, but whether they knew it or not the negotiations were over. Up against the bushes and grass above the sand was a piece of driftwood, nothing special, a dried out piece of dunnage from some ship that had spent several years at sea on its own. It was about ten yards away, between the three of them, and a single .45 caliber slug shattered the middle of the board and created a cloud of sand and dust and splinters that suddenly engulfed them and captured their full attention.

"Jerry! Get down here quick! Jerry, please, right now." The second kid on the left collapsed to his knees bawling in fear. The other two were much less willing to play now that I had upped the ante by several magnitudes.

Shortly the forth fellow was standing behind them wondering what was going down.

"You two, pick him up," I motioned to their crumpled comrade, "and carry him up to the parking lot."

Such menial labor was, in their opinion, well beneath them.

"Are you gettin' my signal, kid? I ain't gonna say it twice!" There was a thin wisp of smoke oozing out of the muzzle and being whisked away in the breeze, but it caught their attention and they began to move.

The fourth fellow, the one called Jerry, looked like he suddenly had the idea to run.

"Hey, Jerry, are you a runner?" The question caught him off guard. "Can you break eleven seconds in the hundred?"

He looked rather proud and strong there for a moment... figuring he could break eleven seconds with ease, and glared back at me.

"I've got a couple of pals here who will be racing with you... " and pointed the Colt his way, "can you beatthem?"

My intent was clear enough to him, and his pride and resolution seemed to drain away.

I motioned him down. "On your hands and knees, kid," I commanded.

"Up to the parking lot, all of you...Now! Get a move on! We gotta schedule to keep!"

They were slow and clumsy and two of them were crying now, fearful, their macho image thoroughly crushed.

Behind me I could hear my XO, talking to Jenny.

"NO, NOT AT ALL. EVERY THING'S FINE, JENNY. DID YOU CALL THE BEACH PATROL? GOOD. HOW SOON? OK. STAY WHERE YOU ARE UNTIL HE SAYS DIFFERENT."

When Jennifer saw us come over the crest of the bluff she was surprised, and then, seeing that I had things under control, she jumped out and came to give Christine a hug, relieved to see her all right.

Once out on the parking area, I had the four young studs spread-eagled face down, bare skin on the rough, weathered asphalt, uncomfortable, hot, thoroughly embarrassed in front of two classy looking babes, waiting for the Beach Patrol officer to arrive.

When the two girls approached me I smiled proudly, like the cat who had eaten the canary in one gulp, but in fact my heart was beating wildly and the adrenaline rush was on.

"Thanks for your support, XO, you're magnificent!"

Jenny looked at me oddly, then at Christine, and my wife was just beaming with satisfaction, even as she was trembling a little in the excitement. When she is confident of her place beside me she is cute beyond all imagining.

"XO, from my canvas kit... I'll need the permit and my ID card to show the Beach Patrol officer."

She picked up on that in a flash. "Aye, aye, Captain."

"Jennifer, thank you very much for being so alert to your surroundings. Your quick eye, and Allan's radios, saved the day for all of us. Do you realize at all what a thrill it is to a dad to have a daughter like you? Do you have any idea?"

She was dumbfounded... first by the fact that I carried a gun, then by Christine's crisp and confident response, and then by my comment and complement to her. She had no idea what to do or say.

Christine retrieved the documents and we stood waiting, and then the Beach Patrol officer arrived and took control of the situation. He was a little surprised to see me wielding a gun, but reacted professionally and properly, and I readily passed the ball to him. Within a few seconds he had taken in the situation, heard my explanation, Christine handed him the permit and my Navy ID card, and he went to his radio on his belt to communicate and get back up support and a paddy wagon for the hooligans.

I turned to Jennifer and pulled her forward to stand near and hear the officer talking on his radio in a real life situation. Still goggle-eyed and very impressed, she was trying to listen carefully to everything he said.

Christine was standing close, and I pulled her closer with my arm around her, and, away from the others so they wouldn't see, patted her bottom possessively. "I certainly am pleased to have you as my XO, do you know that? You are the most stalwart companion to me, and my heart's delight." And kissed her on the forehead. She just wanted my arms around her and wiggled as close to me as she could.

Within seconds it seemed there were two California Highway Patrol cruisers there and the law enforcement fellows went about their business. They were very professional and seemed to handle everything expeditiously. The excitement was past, and I was thinking of getting back to the apartment where Christine could relax a little in private. Still in her bikini and wrap I knew she would not be able to unwind here on the beach with all the men around. The Beach Patrol officer approached me with the Colt and my paperwork to return them, making almost a little ceremony out of the transfer. Then, abruptly, with the girls looking on, he snapped to attention and saluted smartly. "Taylor, William, Gunnery Sergeant, Company E, Second Battalion, THIRD Marines. I'm pleased to be of service sir." He was older than I, as it turned out, had three active tours with the Corps before getting out, and had noticed my navy affiliation from my documents.

I was surprised, and more than a little pleased by his rendering honors, and told him so, making a comment about the Navy-Marine Corps Team, and thanked him again for his assistance and professionalism. That my sweetheart, in spite of the event, could function so very effectively as my companion again came to the fore. She handed me one of my newly printed calling cards, and with her suggestion easily read in her expressive eyes. I agreed and turned back to him.

"Gunny Taylor... Bill? Dace Shepard," and extended my hand, "and my wife Christine. And this is my daughter, Jennifer, who talked to you on the phone." I handed him my card. "We would be pleased to have you and your lady visit us for dinner some evening. Please be in touch."

He was openly pleased, and that lifted my own heart. He had done a fine job, and probably in more ways than I could know. He deserved, I thought, our appreciation.

And he had, more than I then realized, I soon came to find out. Firstly, his salute impressed the girls like all get out. As soon as we were back in the Suburban, all three in the front seat, Jennifer had to relate all the times that she had seen gate guards salute her dad, even at the embassy in Bonn, and how she was so proud. Christine ventured playfully that now she had seen a proper salute and could be a better XO. They were happy and giggling with each other, and it made the stress of the day pass away quickly. Jenny had picked up on the "XO" business, and asked Christine what that was all about, and my girl explained the situation very simply in her sweet way. "Just like on his submarine earlier, you know, when he was on his reconnaissance patrols..." she said in her dainty manner, "he is my captain, and he made me his executive officer. We depend on each other," she declared, "we are a team!"