In one fell swoop tonight, a boggart was vanquished, and in
much the same way.
To be honest, ever since I knew I would encounter him, I’ve been terrified about speaking to
Mac. I didn’t want to have to deal with him, and I believed that he might
actually be capable of fucking things up for me. I felt that I might have to
speak with him at some point, but I wasn’t sure what I would say. He had become a symbol for me: a terrible and
oppressive enemy.
Now, consider the scene: it is the officer’s mess on the
Dutch ship in the night before the Ship gets underway. The bar is open and music
is playing. People are relaxed. A bad Nicholas Cage movie is streaming silently
in the background. Richard has already secured a red wine for me and has a coke
for himself (he does not drink alcohol). He has been an exceptionally fine
host, walking me around the ship, getting linens, and giving me his own T-shirt
as a pillowcase when the pillowcases have not been cleaned yet.
We are both data-obsessed, and both hopeless optimists.
Already I’ve learned that he is driven by the same things that drive me: a
desire to see the big picture, to fill in the missing pieces. A desire to make
things work. Richard is a man who makes things go. He also has a good sense of
humor and I smile a lot around him. I have learned tonight about difficult
missions he has conducted (and one really remarkable mission). I have respect
for him.
He is also gaining respect for me. I have given him vast
swaths of data; he is a man who reads my assessments and writes his own. We have discussed my future plans and
his future plans. He is impressed that I
identified the real issues surrounding the recent VBSS training and then
worked with the Defense attaché in to solve the problem.
Mac walks into the bar. We have already seen him several
times. He sidles next to a woman in a turquoise shirt. I look at him, but I
don’t look at him. All at once I want to stare him down and ignore him.
I say to Richard, “Which people do you like working with
most?”
“I always respect the people who are able to get the mission
done,” said Richard. He looks at two bespectacled chubby men behind him. “When
the sickbay was full of casualties, these guys really went into action. They
were extremely professional.”
He glances around the room some more.
“The woman in the blue shirt,” he said. “She is our lawyer.
She’s worthless. She is always waiting to be told what to do. She wants to take
over whatever you’re doing but she doesn’t come up with anything.”
“That guy next to her,” he goes on. My heart skips a beat. He means Mac. “He’s
our intel officer. He works for me and I’m trying to coach him a little.”
As if on cue, Mac gets up and walks out of the room. Likely,
my presence is difficult for him to bear. The last words sink in: Richard, my
host, my new friend, the man whose company I have genuinely enjoyed, is Mac’s
BOSS. And Mac keeps seeing me with him. This is cool.
I feel I should at least come clean a little with Richard.
“I know him,” I say. “He was in Naples in 2010. That was
when I met Sjors.”The news doesn’t seem to strike Richard and he goes on.
“He works from 0600 to 2300,” he tells me. “And he doesn’t even know why. He doesn’t do any Physio. He doesn’t sit in his bunk and read a book. His reports are rubbish. He can’t tell the difference between good information and the useless stuff. “
“He can’t prioritize,” I observe.
“Exactly,” says Richard. “He puts these slides into the
brief. He puts everything into the brief, and he can't tell when what he's saying doesn't make sense. The briefs to the
Admiral when I came on were 137 slides. I’ve worked them down to 99. He gets up
at 0615 and showers and starts work. I asked him why he did it. He said it was
because his roommate got up at 0615 to do Physio and he wants to use a shower
when his roommate isn’t using the shower. I told him to sleep another three
hours and shower at 0900 when his roommate isn’t in the shower.”
“I asked him, “when do you schedule your physio? When do you
read a book? When was the last time you fell in love with yourself in the
shower?” He got very uncomfortable and said, “that’s a very personal question.”
I told him, “You can’t get anything done if you’re so tired from working all
the time. Here, for the next twenty minutes, make me up your schedule here on
the computer. Write down when you’re going to do physio; when you’re going to
read a book; when you’re going to sit in your bunk; when you’re going to fall in love with yourself in the
shower.” He told me, “I’m too busy. I don’t have time” So I stood next to him
while he made up his schedule. When he gave it to me it was a mess. It was so
chaotic and worthless.”
At this point, I’m laughing so hard that my eyes are glazing
over with tears. They are tears of hilarity; tears of relief; tears of sheer pleasure. What had been this
demon-horror is now a truly pathetic little man. I actually feel sorry for the
guy. I feel a bit guilty that I terrorized him so thoroughly that he took down
his facebook page. Here is a man who is so uptight and incompetent that he
can’t even masturbate properly. While he holds the compassion of his
compassionate boss, he does not hold a place of respect. And Richard holds a
great deal of respect for me. It is all
smoke and mirrors. Maybe nothing is as it seems.
I know that Mac did covert work. Patrick told me this. So
that part is real. But he was certainly not the mastermind behind all the
bullshit. He was definitely the snitch, though.
He noted what Sjors was doing and knew it was out of regs, and ratted
him out. Is that enough to punish him? Maybe. But I’m feeling less and less the
need to exact punishment on the man. I thought I would never say it, but I
consider it now: Perhaps he has suffered enough.
Maybe I give him the opportunity to come clean with me. And
let that decide. Maybe I give him the choice: tell me what happened. All of it.
And if I’m satisfied that you haven’t left anything out, I promise to drop the
charges. What sort of a bargain would that be for him? For me? You and I have
both wanted to know the rest of the story, so maybe we get to fill in the gaps.
So the Boggart is gone. I am glad that I did not betray my
fear. He wasn’t worthy of it, afterall. 
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