college and obtained her teacher's certificate, Vernon married her in the Columbus Presbyterian Church where they had played Joseph and Mary a dozen years earlier. They moved to Norfolk, Virginia, and Vernon believed that the pattern of his life was set. His life would be going out to sea for long stretches and then coming home for short stays with Betty and any children they might have.
Vernon regularly thanked God for keeping up His part of the bargain and he dedicated himself to being the finest officer in the U.S. Navy. All of his fitness reports praised his dependability and thoroughness. His commanding officers openly told him that he was admiral material. Until Libya. Or more specifically, until he returned home after the Libyan action. For the entire world changed for Vernon Allen Winters during the few weeks after the American attack against Gaddafi.
THURSDAY Chapter 7
CAROL and Troy were sitting in deck chairs at the front of the Florida Queen. They were facing forward in the boat, toward the ocean and the warm afternoon sun. Carol had removed her purple blouse to reveal the top of a one-piece blue bathing suit, but she was still wearing her white cotton slacks. Troy was shirtless in a white surfing outfit that came quite a way down his beautiful black legs. His body was lean and sinewy, clearly fit but not overly muscled. They were talking casually and animatedly, laughing often in an easy way. Behind them underneath the canopy, Nick Williams was reading A Fan's Notes by Fred Exley. Every now and then he would look up at the other two for a few moments and then return to his book.
'So why didn't you ever go to college?' Carol was asking Troy. 'You clearly had the ability. You would have made a fantastic engineer.'
Troy stood up, took off his sunglasses, and walked to the railing. 'My brother, Jamie, said the same thing,' he said slowly, staring out at the quiet ocean. 'But I was just too wild. When I finally did graduate from high school, I was hungry to know what the world was like. So I took off. I wandered all over the U.S. and Canada for a couple of years.'
'Was that when you learned about electronics?' Carol asked. She checked her watch to see what time it was.
'That was later, much later,' said Troy, remembering. 'Those two years of wandering I didn't learn anything except how to survive on my wits. Plus what it was like to be a black boy in a white man's world.' He looked at Carol. There was no noticeable reaction.
'I must have had a hundred different jobs,' he continued, looking back at the ocean, 'I was a cook, a copyboy, a bartender, a construction worker. I even taught swimming lessons in a private club. I was a bellman in a resort hotel, a greenskeeper for a country club ...' Troy laughed and turned again to see if Carol was paying attention. 'But I guess you're not interested in all this ...'
'Sure I am,' Carol said, 'it's fascinating to me. I'm trying to imagine what you looked like in a hotel uniform. And if Chief Nick is right, we still have another ten minutes to pass until we reach where we're going.' She dropped her voice. 'At least you talk. The professor is not exactly social.'
'Being a black bellhop at a southern Mississippi resort hotel was an amazing learning experience,' Troy began, a smile spreading across his face. Troy loved to tell stories about his life. It always placed him center stage. 'Imagine, angel, I'm eighteen years old and I luck into a job at the grand old Gulfport Inn, right on the beach. Room and board plus tips. I'm on top of the world. At least until the chief bellman, an impossible little man named Fish, takes me out to the barracks where all the bellhops and kitchen staff live and introduces me to everybody as the ‘new nigger bellhop.' From bits of discussion I can tell that the hotel is in some kind of trouble because of possible racial discrimination and hiring me is part of their response.
'My room in the barracks was right behind the twelfth green on the golf course. A small bunk bed, a dresser built into the wall, a desk or table with a portable lamp, a sink to brush my teeth and wash my face — that's where I lived for six weeks. Down at the other end of