September 11, 2011…
"What's the matter Kowalski?" Skipper piped up as he moved his rook, taking Kowalski's bishop.
Kowalski didn't answer. He fiddled with a pawn, lost in his own thoughts.
"Kowalski!" Skipper barked. This time Kowalski's head snapped up
"Hmm, what's did you say Skipper?" he asked distractedly.
Skipper shook his head in exasperation. His second in command had been quiet and taciturn all day. And in all honesty wasn't concentrating nearly as hard as Skipper thought he should be, troubling thoughts or no.
"Kowalski where's your head today? That's the fifth piece straight I've taken from you."
"Sorry Skipper," Kowalski apologized as he picked up another piece. "I've just got a lot on my mind today."
Skipper nodded in understanding.
"Ah the anniversary right?"
Kowalski rubbed his neck nervously as he contemplated a move.
"Yea, I guess you could say that," he mumbled as he set the piece down. He had just barely set it down when Skipper promptly took it.
"Check mate," his leader said. Kowalski sighed then stood up.
"I'm not in the mood for chess anymore," he declared and then without another word, disappeared into his lab.
By this point Private and Rico were no longer watching the 9-11 tribute on TV. Instead they were more interested in the behavior of their team member.
Skipper for his part watched Kowalski disappear into his lab then looked back at the board with a puzzled expression.
"That's odd," Private said as he and Rico waddled over to Skipper. "I know Kowalski's upset, I mean we all are. But-"
"But that's not how Kowalski acts when he's upset about something like this." Skipper finished for him as he spun Kowalski's king in his hand thoughtfully. Finally he took a firm hold of it and stood up.
"I'm gonna go talk to him boys," he announced.
"Do you think we should come too?" Private asked, accompanied by a garbled agreement from Rico.
"Negatory," Skipper commanded. "If Kowalski's got a problem having the whole team gang up on him isn't going to get him to open up any.
"Right Skippa," Private answered, though he exchanged a worried glance with Rico. As soon as Skipper shut the door, both Private and Rico were right on it, ears pressed hard against it, hoping to hear something.
"I can't hear anything," Private whispered to Rico. "Can you?"
"Uh-uh," Rico answered in frustration. He pulled away from the door and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. He then suddenly held up a flipper and let out a triumphant "Ah-ha!" as an idea came to him. He wasted no time in regurgitating a stethoscope which he held up to the door.
"Brilliant idea Rico!" Private praised.
"Shh," Rico admonished as he listened intently to the conversation in the other room.
Skipper entered the room to see Kowalski fiddling away with some gadget or another. The scientist was so involved in his task that he didn't look up or even stir at Skipper's entrance.
Instead of announcing himself right away as he was often one to do, Skipper merely contented himself to watch his lieutenant silently. It was clear right off the bat that something was troubling Kowalski. His usually steady hands would slip every now and then, eliciting a growl from the penguin. His eye feathers were furrowed in deep concentration but his eyes themselves spoke of a wavering attention. What drew Skipper's attention the most was the way Kowalski struggled to compose himself.
Finally after a few moments though, Kowalski's emotions go the better of him and he let out a frustrated grunt before throwing the gadget and tool on the work table angrily. Skipper took that has his cue.
"What's the matter Kowalski?" he asked, ignoring the taller penguin's startled and abrupt about face. He ambled over to the other side of the table and sat down casually. "Your new gizmo giving you problems?"
"Uh, uh no not-not really," Kowalski stuttered, surprised to see his commanding officer in the lab with him. "Uh, how long have you been standing there?" he asked sheepishly.
"Long enough to know that this isn't like you soldier," Skipper answered sternly, though his eyes had softened to that slightly concerned look he took on every now and then. "What's going on?" he continued as he set the chess piece on the table. "I've seen better games than that from you after the times Dorris has sent you packing. And I didn't get to be commanding officer without knowing how my men react emotionally to stuff. You my friend are either completely reserved or your emotions are as explosive as Rico on the Fourth of July. I've never seen a halfway point with you until today. And I most certainly have never seen you as distracted as you have been today."
"It's nothing Skipper," Kowalski answered quickly, desperate to end the conversation.
"It is so not nothing," retorted Skipper. "If it's just the fact that it's today I'm fine with that. Heck, we're all feeling something or other today," he continued. "I saw Marlene get a bit teary eyed today as Alice raised the flag. And Rico and Private certainly aren't the most buoyant today. But hey, that's okay. We all remember how we felt ten years ago-"
"But that's just it Skipper I don't!" Kowalski suddenly snapped angrily. However, if he was hoping to end the conversation he was sorely mistaken. He now had Skipper's full and undivided attention.
"What do you mean you don't?" his C. O. asked. "You get some kind of amnesia or something from that day?"
"No Skipper it's…" Kowalski sighed as he readied himself for a rather long and probably emotional conversation. "…It's just that I don't remember feeling much of anything that day when I look back on it," he admitted.
"Oh, I get it," Skipper answered back. "You must have been in some sort of state of shock when you heard the news. That happened to a lot of people. You shouldn't let it get you down."
"No, it wasn't shock," Kowalski said as he pulled up a chair. "It was more…apathy"
"Apathy?" Skipper echoed. "You mean you didn't care?"
"Yes…well, no…not…it's just…"Kowalski fumbled for the right wording.
"Maybe you should start from the beginning Kowalski," Skipper ordered.
"Ugh, fine," Kowalski acquiesced. "It was a year or so before I came to the Central Park Zoo. At that time I was in another zoo, somewhere in the Midwest. Quite honestly I don't even remember which one it was. The penguins there, we weren't so much of a team there. We pretty much tolerated each other and that was it. I was inventing even at that point and so when I didn't have to go out and make appearances for the public I usually liked to hole up and work. September eleventh to me wasn't much different than any other day. In fact the most pressing thing on my mind was that I was behind on my work and really wanted to get some stuff done.
I remember that I liked to sneak in to the office early in the morning before opening to watch the news, just to keep up on current events. Near the end of the daily broadcast a special bulletin came on, announcing the crash of the first plane. I must honestly say that I dismissed it. Sure it was a plane crash and I'm not saying that that isn't a terrible thing. But I didn't think it was much different than any other plane crash so I went about my work. Though, I did find it odd for a moment that everyone at the zoo was so interested in it. A bunch of animals were gathered around a radio someone had left behind and as I was leaving the office some others were coming in to watch the coverage. I just shrugged and returned to the habitat.
Skipper nodded thoughtfully.
"I think I can understand that," he acknowledged. "You do tend to get distracted when you've got your mind on something." Kowalski didn't say anything; he just rubbed his head in a confused manner.
"There's more to it isn't there," Skipper said thoughtfully. Kowalski nodded.
"My memories of the rest of that day are so frustrating," he continued. "I remember that one of the penguins seemed keen on keeping everyone in the loop about what was going on. So every now and then he would pop into my lab and give me an update.
When he told me about the second plane crash I just said thanks and kept working. I thought maybe someone should do something about the quality of air traffic control in the area, as we seemed to be having quite a few crashed lately, but that was it." Kowalski's expression then got more puzzled and almost a little worried.
"He came in I don't remember how many minutes later and told me that the first tower had collapsed. I was more or less done with my work so I wasn't distracted when this next piece of news came. I didn't brush it off. But Skipper," he said plaintively, "I don't recall feeling concerned about it. I know I was. I know I remember that by that point this was more than just a mere plane crash. But I don't remember feeling anything. I didn't feel any sadness or anger or-or anything. It was like someone had just told me that I don't know, the feeding was going to be an hour late or something."
Skipper began to say something but Kowalski abruptly got up and began pacing around the room agitatedly.
"I think I felt something the day after. Maybe it needed time to sink in or something. And I definitely felt something weeks later. Then a year later when we watched the footage again in honor of the one year memorial it finally hit me just how completely awful this situation was and still is. But by that time I began to question it. I mean, I wasn't there; I barely paid attention to the whole thing when it began. So who am I to be upset about it a year later. Who am I to be upset about it ten years later?"
Skipper slowly began to rise from his seat while Kowalski kept going.
"And tomorrow or next week, when we're all done remembering, we're all just going to go back to our sweet little lives as if nothing has changed. At least that's what it feels like at times. Oh sure, we'll remember what happened. But not with the same poignancy that we do today. I'll be honest I have to ask myself what right I have to grieve as well when I'm just going to return to my life tomorrow. I mean, I didn't know anybody who was killed, I didn't even know anybody who was injured. I don't know anyone who knows someone who was killed or injured. I wasn't even in New York at the time so who am I to feel-"
SMACK!
Kowalski was driven from his self loathing thoughts by a firm flipper taking him right across the face. He barely had time to react to it before he felt said flipper and its companion holding tight to his shoulders and forcing him to look into his commanding officer's eyes.
No, not his commanding officer's eyes. These were the eyes of a friend. A good and trusting friend who, though he was stern and bossy, cared deeply about anyone he considered family.
"Kowalski listen to me," he commanded clearly. "You are an American. You are the citizen of a country who can't help but feel the same way anyone would if something like that happened to the land they loved, whether it's America, Denmark or some island off the Coast of Antarctica that nobody knows about yet. You have every right to grieve for that."
"But Skipper-"Kowalski began to rebut but Skipper cut him off.
"Do you feel happy about what happened?" Skipper asked. Kowalski pulled away, aghast.
"How can you even ask that?" he retorted angrily. "No I'm not happy that it happened. Whenever I think about what it must have been like for the people in New York or for the people in those buildings while they fell down on top of them it makes me sick. I mean physically, nauseous, up-chuck-everything-I've-eaten-in-a-week SICK!"
"Good," responded Skipper with a firm nod. "Then I'd say you have every right to feel the way you do today. Even if the pain lessens tomorrow and next week and next month, you will always remember how you feel about it, regardless of whether you felt it today or ten years ago."
He sat down again and firmly but gently indicated that Kowalski should too.
"Kowalski," he began, "I've said it before and I'll say it again. You need to turn off that old think melon of yours."
"I don't understand Skipper," Kowalski responded. "What does my brain have anything to do with this?"
"It's your brain that's causing it," Skipper asserted. "You may think this is all emotional but from what I can tell you're letting your brain dictate how you should feel. Well, I gotta tell you know that there is no guide to tell us how we should feel about today. Anyone who says you should feel one way or another at any given moment about this whole messed up thing deserves to be slapped because feelings don't work this way. You're worried about how you should be feeling?" Kowalski nodded.
"As for me," Skipper continued, "I'm just happy that you're feeling something. I mean, if your emotions became overly worrisome then yea, I might say something, or Rico might, or Private might. But you shouldn't be ashamed that you feel worse about today than yesterday. I think anyone would what with all the newscasts and memorials, even if they had been in a constant state of emotion for the past ten years. Do you understand what I'm saying soldier?"
Kowalski breathed out gustily. It wasn't a sigh to please Skipper. It was a breath of relief and of a lifted spirit.
"I think so Skipper, thanks," he said gratefully.
"Ah, don't mention it," Skipper replied jovially. He then picked up the chess king that he had left on the table.
"Now come on," he said. "We'd better fill in any blanks for Rico and Private," he commented casually.
"Blanks?" Kowalski asked in confusion.
Skipper just answered that question by curling his flipper into a fist and banging hard on the wrought-iron door. Two muffled yelps were heard, one low and babbled, the other high and startled. Skipper opened the door to Rico and Private in a heap on the floor holding their ears.
"You two were listening in?" Kowalski asked, astounded.
"What, you were expecting something less from these two?" Skipper asked him.
"We just wanted to know what was bothering you," Private answered as he shakily stood up.
Rico grunted as he rubbed his ear holes and added.
"Whi wah wahheed aout ooo."
"Well, I don't think you need to be worried anymore," Kowalski answered, "At least not today at any rate."
"Great," praised Skipper, "Now let's get back to that chess game and this time you'd better make me work for it."
"If you get it at all," Kowalski retorted with his usual spunk. Skipper went up to set up the chessboard but Kowalski hesitated.
"Uh, skipper, could…could we do something first?" he requested.
A few moments later saw the penguins gathered around the flagpole at the front of the zoo. They stood solemn for a few moments as they looked up at it. Skipper lifted his hand in a sharp salute and the others followed. Then in his low bass voice, Kowalski began to sing:
Oh say can you see
By the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed
At the Twilight's last gleaming
Then Private joined in with his lilting tenor
Whose broad strips and bright stars
Through the perilous fight
O're the ramparts we watched
Were so gallantry streaming
Next Rico
And the rockets' red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there
Finally Skipper joined in and the four voices rang out through the zoo
Oh say does that Star Spangle Banner yet wave
O're the land of the free
And the home of the brave
A few moments later the four slowly lowered their hands. Private's immediately went to his eye and brushed a tear away. Skipper found himself repeating "monster trucks" in his head as he fought the urge to cry. Rico was all out bawling and Kowalski's face showed a sad smile of remembrance and reverence.
A/N This was a story that was written much more quickly than most stories I write. It was pretty much me putting my thoughts on the page as my reactions to 9-11 are more or less those that I wrote down. I actually wasn't planning on putting the song in but I got near the end I found myself wanting to hear the penguins sing. All that being said, I didn't proof read it as extensivley as I usually do so I might revise it later on, based on what kind of reviews I get and what I think of it after I've read it a week later. I just wanted to put it up in time for 9-11. I hope you all like it and I wish everyone affected by this day in anyway the best when it comes to remembering. Please let me know what you think of this. I would really like to hear your thoughts. Thank you and God Bless.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Penguins. But I'd love to work for whoever does.