Chapter Fourteen: You Learn by Doing

 "Hey, Bill, you're back!" Temple will say that whenever I come in for a shift, won't he? He stands from his desk, and his eyes land on Tallulah. "And you brought Tallulah—great!"

 "Hi again, Temple." Tallulah waves and sits at the round table before Temple's desk. Her eyes land on a container of Oreos, and she points at them. "Are these free?"

 "Help yourself," Temple says. "You, too, Bill."

 Tallulah opens the container and offers me a cookie.

 I hesitantly accept and bite into the Oreo, letting its creamy center melt onto my tongue. I then approach the Volunteer Sign-In book and open it. My elbow accidentally bumps Temple, and I say, "Oops! I'm sorry."

 "I've got something for you, Bill. I'm sorry it took so long." Temple reaches into the pocket of his khaki pants and removes a lanyard from it. My ID is attached, labeled Patriots Point Naval and Maritime Museum: Bill Beckington, Visitor Services.

 As expected, my picture looks like a mugshot, but I accept my ID. "Thank you, Temple."

 He squeezes my shoulder. "You're welcome. I'd hate to ask this, Bill, but could you make yourself scarce while I talk to Tallulah? I'll meet you at the Information Booth in twenty minutes, and we can go over today's Plan of the Day. Think about what you would like to do, okay? And—oh!" Temple points at my notebook. "Are those your notes from The Fighting Lady and Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo?"

 Here we go. It looks like I was right. "They are." I hand Temple the notebook, and he beams.

 "Thank you so much, Bill! You were courageous to watch those movies. I'll review them today, and we can develop a Coping Method while you're here. Is that okay?"

 A Coping Method. He is trying to help me. He wants me to stay here; I can smell it.

 "Okay, sir," I whisper. I finish signing in and grab a water bottle from the miniature fridge in the lounge's kitchen area. I then open the hatch and begin leaving, but I take a moment to glance over my shoulder at Tallulah and Temple.

 They nod, and I return their nods. Why am I here again? I ask myself.

***

 It's evident that Tallulah and Temple are talking about me. If they weren't, I wouldn't have been asked to leave the lounge and wait here behind the Info Booth.

 This mystery keeps getting more interesting. I believe Tallulah, Temple, and Natalie are working together on this "investigation" Natalie mentioned.

 While I'd hate to pry, I want to begin a deep dive for clues; of course, the first one is how Ted's name is familiar to Tallulah. Something crosses my mind, but that's impossible. I was there when Ted died.

 My heart pounds when the memory replays, indicating another panic attack is coming.

 Oh, no, no, no!

 My instincts lead me away from the Information Booth and to the Corsair. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" I snap at it, but after a few minutes, my heartbeat slows, and I inhale. I never knew an airplane could toy, too. The next thing I know, I sit beside her, my cane propped against the bench.

 I turn my body and rest my arms on the bench's head, setting my chin on them. For a long while, I study the Corsair like she's my first love (which she was). I see the first time Ted and I snapped a picture before her. One would've mistaken us for a couple. That picture. Wait... the picture! Where's the picture I brought with me today?

 I push off the bench and pat myself, calling out, "Ted!" unexpectedly. Shit, I left the picture in my notebook, didn't I?

 I shakily stand and hurry for the Information Booth and Volunteer Lounge. Once I pass the Information Booth, I run into Temple and Tallulah, who have just reached the Hangar Bay from the ladder beside the Cougar. I've never focused on the Flight Simulator beside it until now.

 "Oh, Bill, perfect!" Temple stops before me and offers me the picture. "This was in your notebook. I'm assuming you didn't put it there intentionally."

 "Temple, thank you. Thank you so much." I can finally breathe. Taking the picture, I hug it to my cheek and close my eyes, smiling gently. I would do anything to hug Ted again, but this and the locket are the best I've got.

 A hand grips my shoulder, and I open my eyes, seeing Tallulah. Without warning, I set my hand on top of hers.

 Temple gestures down Hangar Bay 2 to Hangar Bay 1. "I'm going to take Tallulah down to Hangar Bay 1 for a few minutes, Bill," he explains. "Could you please watch the Info Booth a little longer for me?"

 "Yes, sir." I slip out of Tallulah's grip and plop into a black rolling chair. It feels nice to get off my feet for a bit. I keep Ted's picture close during Temple and Tallulah's absence.

 I may be ninety-one, but so many thoughts flow through my brain like the Nile. I need to get back into puzzles to piece everything together. I haven't yet taken the time to study Hangar Bay 1 thoroughly because of that damn airplane. Should I maybe ask Temple what he's showing Tallulah? I feel like it has something to do with me again.

 It isn't long until Tallulah and Temple return. Tallulah's grinning so much that I'm tempted to ask Temple now.

 She and he shake hands, and Temple says, "So, I'll see you here at the same time next week?"

 Well, that confirms it. I'm going to have a partner-in-crime.

 "Yes, sir," Tallulah says, shaking Temple's hand harder. "I can't wait to begin!"

 "Same here," Temple agrees, releasing her.

 I don't know how I feel about this, but I'm sure it's okay. At least this will give me more time to pry clues out of Tallulah.

 I study the photo, and a thousand more thoughts pound me. I'm aiming to become a better dad for Natalie, so would not giving Tallulah the picture be a sin? She would return it when she and Natalie finish their investigation—I'm sure of it.

 My grip tightens on the photo, but I ensure I don't wrinkle it.

 Tallulah faces me. "Well, I guess I'm out, Bill. I'm looking forward to working with you." There's silence, and then she nods and turns.

 "Wait," I say before she leaves, standing. I pause before her and gulp, studying the picture.

 Tallulah's smile fades, and she pushes the picture into my gut. "You don't have to, Bill. I know how much he means to you."

 "And Natalie's told me how much you like naval history," I argue. I can't believe I'm about to do this. "Here. Just return it when you and Natalie finish your investigation." My hand shakes while I let my beloved Ted go, but it steadies when Tallulah grasps the photo.

 She takes it and voices, "Thank you, Bill. I'll take good care of it. And don't worry—I'll return it when Natalie and I confirm everything."

 "Good luck," I say, backing away and gripping my locket. "I'll see you next week."

 Tallulah attempts a Navy salute but needs more practice. A for effort, Tallulah. I'll try teaching her it next week.

 Oh, what am I saying?

 Once Tallulah exits Yorktown, Temple claps beside me, and I jump slightly. I inhale and look at him.

 "That was the bravest thing I have seen you do since starting here," Temple confesses. "Well done, Bill. Tiny steps."

 "It was hard," I acknowledge, "but I'm trying to be a better dad to Natalie, Temple." What I just did equals the intensity of landing a Corsair on an aircraft carrier.

 "I think you're ready to give a Bulldog Tour another chance," Temple declares. "But that's totally up to you, Bill. Would you rather be behind the Information Booth for your Plan of the Day or learn the ship's history?"

 "May I start by asking what you showed Tallulah in Hangar Bay 1?" I say aloud when I meant to think it.

 Temple giggles and teases, "Oh, but why? You learn by doing."

 I sigh. "Then I guess I'm going on another Bulldog Tour."

 I swear that Temple nearly jumps out of his skin; however, he quickly calms himself. "All right, then! I'll let Cosgrove know. Until then, why don't you check out Hangar Bay 1?"

 I think I will.

 Temple and I exchange salutes, and Temple leaves me. As soon as he disappears down the ladder, I head for Hangar Bay 1. That Corsair will haunt me for weeks, but I've got to be brave.

 And I am.

 I make it past the Corsair and now stand in Hangar Bay 1 before the Midway Exhibit, an Apollo 8 capsule (what does Apollo 8 have to do with Yorktown?), and a Carrier Aviation Memorial Exhibit. May these brave sailors Rest in Peace.

 The memorial is a group of black walls mashed together. Gold plaques with the names of the aircraft carriers and deceased decorate them. The monument also includes black-and-white photos of the war eras, including the Korean and Vietnam Wars.

 I study each one, taking five minutes at one point to rest on another bench before continuing my investigation.

 It feels like forever when I finally see it. On the outside of the wall, beside the USS Forrestal Memorial, is the USS Valley Forge, CV-45. Is this for real? This is mine and Ted's ship. I confirm it by reading the Korean War sign over it.

 I blink back tears and stumble to the plaque, my chest tightening again. There aren't too many names on it, but I force myself to read them, starting in the plaque's upper left corner. It's grouped via Air Group Squadrons.

 Please say he's not listed, I beg. But alas, I reach Ted and I's squadron, and there he is:

 Theodore Eldon: Missing in Action.

 My heart shatters into a million pieces. That's my Ted, my Roosevelt.

 I attempt to pick up my heart pieces, but it's no use. Warm tears stream down my cheeks, and I punch Ted's name. "Damn you, war! Damn you, Ted! Damn you!" I should've never started volunteering here.

 The snowstorm replays in my head. There went Ted plummeting into the Korean mountains and me yelling, "Ted!" Regardless, good memories of Ted and I camping, fishing, and building snowmen, dreaming about our chance to fly for our country, push the snowstorm aside. Then comes the day I crashed my plane.

 "Stay with me, Bill," Ted said while the corpsmen loaded me onto the stretcher in the pouring rain. "I won't leave you." He gripped my hand and comforted me as we headed to Sick Bay. I woke twelve hours later to him beside me.

 "Damn you," I repeat, sitting on the bench again and burying my face. I take my time to calm down. When I'm ready, I study the plaque for a second time.

 Theodore Eldon: Missing in Action.

 "I'm sorry, Bill." Temple appears around the corner of the wall.

 "I got it out," I say, rubbing my eyes. But I do not want to stay here after reading that.

 "However…" Temple holds up one finger and points at Ted's name. "This says 'Missing in Action' under him. So, it was never confirmed."

 "I can confirm it," I proclaim. "I was there, Temple, and it's been seventy years. He's dead. Even if he miraculously did survive, he was most likely seriously injured and died later." Temple opens his mouth, but I hold up my hand. "I'll go on that Bulldog Tour, Temple. Seeing this gave me a little closure. For that, thank you."

 I don't let Temple speak and leave the memorial, a new message passing through my exhausted brain when I reach the Corsair and grip its propeller:

 You were a good man, Theodore Eldon. If only I had returned your heroism… I wouldn't be the broken man I am today.