Screaming Batfish Blues by Scott L. Anderson - HTML preview

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JUICE

PEARL HARBOR

Two days before the wedding, the soon to be married couple had left the base after work to sign their lease on their future home. It was a small, one bedroom apartment just outside of navy family housing, in a suburb called Salt Lake.

Sophie had duty that evening so she had to return to the base as soon as the lease was signed. Jake had worn his running clothes and was planning on getting his run in before he went back to their room.

The sun was going down and the air was losing some of its tropical stickiness but was  still warm enough so that within minutes Jake was sweating heavily. He had quit smoking pot and was starting to get his old wind back again. He began to pick up the pace as he wound through the streets of naval housing.

Then he heard a scream. Probably kids fucking around, he thought. “Stop it you son of a bitch!”

Jake looked down a short dead end street and saw a couple struggling beside a car in one of the driveways.

The woman screamed again. “I said stop it! You’re hurting me!”

The man, who was dressed in all white, slapped her. Hard. The woman slumped down and he shoved her into the vehicle. Jake saw him reach in and pull her legs towards him.

“Prick teasing little bitch!”

Jake jogged over to the end of the driveway. “Is there some trouble here?”

The man straightened up and Jake saw that he had been attempting to pull the woman’s panties down or off. He also saw that the white uniform the man was wearing was that of a commissioned naval officer.

“Mind your own business, asshole.” The man spat out at Jake.

Confusion reigned in Jake’s mind. He had been in the navy for just over two years and had never been in a bit of trouble, plus he had no idea on how to deal with an officer in this sort of situation. Officers in the navy were treated like gods.

He turned to go.

The woman shot up out of the car. “Don’t leave! Please!”

Jake turned back and saw that it wasn’t a woman at all, but a girl who was probably just barely in high school. She had the imprints of the man’s hand on her face where he had slapped her. Her nose and mouth were both bleeding.

Jake started up the driveway.

The officer let go of the girl’s arm and she darted past Jake and up the street.

“I thought I told you to mind your own business.” The officer assumed a boxer’s stance but wobbled a little as he did so. He had been drinking. Jake could smell the booze on his breath from five feet away.

“I don’t want any trouble, sir. I just heard the girl scream and thought she might need help.”

The officer charged at him and throw a roundhouse right that Jake easily ducked. He pivoted behind the officer and shoved him away.

“You motherfucker. Keep your stinking hands off me.”

The officer threw another right, only this time Jake parried it off with his left and drilled a straight right into the officer’s mouth which staggered him back.

The officer was bent over holding his mouth while Jake stood back, stunned at what had just occurred. When the officer straightened up, blood was pouring out of his mouth and down the front of his dress white uniform.

“Do you know what is going to happen to you, asshole? You just struck a commissioned officer. I’m an ensign in the goddamn United States Navy!”

“Sir, I was just trying to defend myself! You tried to strike me!” Jake was getting so scared that he thought he might shit his running shorts.

“You’re going to the brig, dickweed! But first I’m gonna teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.” The officer charged.

It wouldn’t have been a fair fight if the officer was sober. He was maybe five or six years older than Jake but he was outweighed by a good thirty pounds. The officer kept coming at Jake swinging wildly, while Jake kept moving backwards, just like when he fought the retard, and he kept snapping a hard left jab into the officer’s face.

A cut opened over the officer’s right eye and a hard right put him down onto the grass of his front yard. He staggered up, the entire front of his uniform was now covered in blood and grass stains.

“Please sir, stop this.” Jake was practically begging.

The ensign spit a wad of blood and snot at Jake. “Your life is over, punk. By morning you’ll have sucked every dick in the brig.”

The battered ensign came forward once more with his hands raised. Jake feinted a left  and fired a vicious right uppercut that caught the ensign under the chain and dropped him down again on the lawn, his head snapping back with a whiplash action and striking the ground with a sickening plop. The officer rolled over on all fours and vomited onto the grass. He attempted to get to his feet but collapsed face down on his lawn. Right next to the birdbath.

The neighborhood was suddenly awash in the blue lights of the base police and the  shore patrol.

Two shore patrol  advanced on Jake with their nightsticks drawn, the base police with his gun aimed squarely at Jake’s chest. He was spread-eagled on the patrol car, frisked, handcuffed, and taken to the Pearl Harbor base police headquarters.

The battered ensign regained consciousness on the ambulance ride to Tripler Army Hospital. He was treated for a deep cut over his right eye, a broken nose, a severe laceration on his lower lip, and two broken off front teeth. He was able to give a statement to the Naval Investigative Service’s officer who was on call. While being wheeled down to x-ray the ensign, now known as Raymond Dunn, lost consciousness again, and lapsed into a coma.

Jake was interrogated by the base police officer, the senior shore patrol petty officer, and another NIS agent called to the scene. He gave his version of the story, beginning with the signing of the lease with Sophie, his run to the base, the girl being assaulted by Ensign Dunn,  and the officer then attacking him despite Jake’s pleas to stop.

An hour later the NIS agent received a call from his partner at Tripler hospital. Jake was handcuffed again without a word and driven to the base brig also know as the Pearl Harbor Detention and Confinement facility.

He was stripped, searched, given a shower and covered in a delousing liquid, issued a set of prison issue dungarees, and placed in solitary confinement. He was informed by the officer in charge, a cueball bald marine, that a lawyer from the JAG office would be there to see him in the morning and to inform him of the charges pending against him.

No phone call. No way to get hold of Sophie. No nothing.

Ensign Dunn remained in emergency surgery for over five hours in an attempt to relieve the pressure of the blood clot that had lodged in his brain. Approximately two hours after being placed in the intensive care unit, Ensign Dunn died.

The next morning Jake was charged with the murder of a commissioned officer and attempted burglary.

Dunn in his statement had said that he had arrived home from the officer’s club to find Jake trying to break into his house. The ensign’s wife was back home in Utah visiting her parents. When the ensign had attempted to apprehend Jake, he had been severely assaulted by him.

A neighbor woman had called the police after looking out her kitchen window and seeing Dunn getting the asskicking of a lifetime. Which is the exact wording she used. She also told the NIS agent that Dunn had been drinking and carousing for the last week, the time period his wife had been gone to the mainland. He had also came out of his house to get the morning paper yesterday, in only his cotton briefs and was in a state of arousal. When he saw her out on her front lawn he had only smiled at her and walked back into his house.

The NIS agent forgot to write this information down.

Jake was assigned a young lieutenant from the JAG office on his first big case.  Previously he defended nine drug possession cases and another case of a seaman apprentice caught masturbating under the table while at the enlisted men’s club. He hadn’t won any of these cases although he was able to get the naughty seaman off with a captains mast appearance  instead of a court martial.

It only took three weeks for the prosecution to build their case. Jake appeared at his court martial in front of a board of naval officers. It was the first time he had seen Sophie since the incident had happened, she hadn’t been allowed to visit him while he was in the brig. She would be the only witness for the defense.

Jake’s time in the brig had been tough. Ensign Dunn had been the navy's ranking officer in the Pearl Harbor Detention facility, the brigs at that time were staffed by marines but required that a navy representative be on their administrative staff. Since Dunn was considered one of  their own, all staff followed a strict code of no verbal contact with Jake. He had remained in total isolation for “protective custody” reasons.

At the court martial, Ensign Dunn was portrayed as a fine naval officer who was quickly climbing the military ladder. He was the son of a retired naval captain and had graduated near the top of his list while at Annapolis. A fine family man, who’s pregnant widow was placed in the front row for the two day court martial.

The fact that Dunn had been suspected of raping a classmate while in high school (charges dropped after monetary compensation was paid to the girl’s family), had been accused of cheating while in the Academy, had a known drinking problem, had been in several fist fights since reporting to Pearl Harbor, and had been rumored to have flashed his dick at more than one wife in the neighborhood, beside the one who reported it, was never brought up at the court martial.

The autopsy report pointed out the broken nose, cuts, broken teeth, and the blood clot in the brain that had killed the ensign. It did not report that Ensign Dunn had a alcohol blood count that was high enough that if he was cremated the furnace would have exploded. He also had traces of cocaine in his system that were “below” standard testing limits.

Defense attorney Lt. James Jacqui never voiced an objection or produced the girl that had been assaulted by Ensign Dunn. It was like she had been a ghost.

Sophie testified in Jake’s defense that they had just gone to sign their lease, were getting married, and he would never do anything like burglary much less assaulting an officer. Seeing  her on the stand about broke Jake’s heart.

The evening of the second day of the court martial, Jake was found guilty of the murder  of Ensign Raymond Leonard Dunn III. The charges of attempted burglary were dropped, a triumph in the record book of his defense attorney. Jake was given a dishonorable discharge, busted down to E-1, forfeited all pay and benefits, and was sentenced to life in prison at the federal military prison in Leavenworth .

During the reading of the verdict Jake had sat stunned and was unable to address the court. All he could to do was turn and look at a crying Sophie who was dressed all in black with her silver cross. Clutching her Bible to her chest.

No one had seemed to notice the slender man with the great Hawaiian tan, who was dressed plainly in khaki trousers and a golf shirt, and who had sat in the back of the court room during the entire proceedings. He had sat quietly taking notes and referencing a file that he  would occasionally draw from his briefcase. When the verdict was read he stood up and quietly walked out the door.