Better Bonding Through Demolition
AZWriter
(inspired by a line from Season 1, Ep #20)
Steve cut through the water with ease, his goggles protecting him from the bits of organic matter beneath the ocean waves. At nine years old he was tall for his age. He was tempted to swim further out, but mom had asked him to keep an eye on his sister, Mary, so he didn't dare be gone too long. Mary was just a dumb girl and would get into trouble if he wasn't around to watch her. Especially since Dad was gone so much between his Naval Reserve service and his job as a cop.
He angled upward through the water and broke the surface, automatically turning toward the beach to search out his sister. "You okay, Mare?" he called.
Mary turned to him and rolled her eyes, brushing her blonde bangs out of her face, her arms covered in bits of sand. "Of course I'm all right. I'm building Barbie a castle. And I DON'T need a babysitter."
Of course you do. You're only seven.
But he didn't waste his words. It wasn't worth an argument. He just nodded his head. "Okay, I'm going back under." But Mary wasn't paying attention. She'd already resumed her castle building. The walls were already an impressive two feet high, and her Barbie and something in green lay beside it.
This time as Steve dove under the water and swam along, his mind was churning over the…what did his father call it? The tactical situation with his GI Joe. There was a hostage situation in his room. Over at the race track. He and his dad had carefully laid down the track on one side of his bedroom. The track he got for Christmas along with several matchbox racers. The only problem was the race wasn't able to go on. Seems the top race car driver on the field was being held hostage in the VIP room by several men. The men had wired his car plus an undisclosed location with explosives and threatened to blow up the people in the stands if they didn't get what they wanted.
Local law enforcement, along with SWAT, was at the track. But Steve felt the situation called for something more, so he had GI Joe guarding the track until he could figure out what to do to free the hostages.
Problem was, he still hadn't figured out what Joe needed to do to save the day. But at least with GI Joe at the track, he knew the people were safe—for now.
Nearing the end of his air, Steve again kicked through the waves and headed for the surface. He was hungry. Maybe mom would fix lunch soon. He climbed out of the waves, dripping water, his navy blue swim trunks even darker when wet.
"Hey, Mare," he approached his sister from behind. "You getting hungry?" He wouldn't admit it but he was pretty impressed with the castle she'd made. Good thick walls at the base, growing thinner the taller it went.
"Yeah. I'm almost finished here. Wonder if mom will fix mac and cheese for lunch? Maybe she'll even put some Spam in it."
Steve's nose wrinkled. "I was thinking more along the lines of tuna fish."
"Yuck. We had that yesterday."
"Better than Spam."
"Is not."
"Is too."
Steve was about to continue the argument when something caught his eye. When Mary stood, the green thing he'd glimpsed by the castle earlier came into full view. Camouflage? Wait a minute. Mary had taken his GI Joe from his room and had him standing in front of the cardboard castle doors with his plastic rifle in his hands.
"What the…" Lunging forward, Steve snatched Joe out of the sand.
"Hey! Put him back." Mary demanded. "He's guarding Barbie in the castle."
"Get your own GI Joe. This one already has a mission and I'm taking him back to his assignment right now."
Mary attempted to make a grab for GI Joe but Steve easily held it out of her reach.
"Oh no you don't," Mary screamed. "He's guarding Barbie until she leaves her vacation at the castle. You can have him back when she's done."
Steve snorted. "She's done." He started marching back to the house.
Steve's longer legs carried him quickly toward their house just off the beach. The whole while, Mary ran alongside, periodically jumping up and trying to reach the GI Joe figure Steve held up high and out of her reach. At last she gave up and with a quick punch to Steve's side that carried little force, she ran ahead.
"Mom! Mom!" Mary's whiny voice carried on the air.
Sisters. They were so irritating.
Steve pulled off his water goggles and headed toward the house. Surely mom would understand the importance of not detaining an Army man from his mission.
But when he walked into the kitchen using a towel to rub his hair, his mother stood there, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. "Steven J. McGarrett, what do you think you're doing?"
Steve didn't like the way this was going and decided to play dumb. "I'm drying my hair. I've been swimming."
"That's not what I meant young man and you know it. Give Mary back the doll. She wasn't finished with it yet."
"GI Joe is not a doll," Steve shot back. "He's an action figure."
"Steven, do as I tell you."
The warning in her tone was clear but Steve didn't give in. "It's not hers." Steve held Joe behind his back with one arm while he continued to dry his hair.
Mom nodded. "I know, Steve. But surely you can allow her to finish playing with him this afternoon. What will one afternoon hurt?"
This time a whine crept into his own voice. His dad wouldn't like that. Only girls got away with whining. "But mom, Joe's got a mission at the race track. He's saving hostages."
His mother drew in a long breath, as if she was silently counting to ten. "Steve, I'm only going to say it once more. Give Mary the GI Joe d…action figure. You'll get it back this afternoon before supper."
"Yeah," Mary nodded, standing arms crossed over her chest beside her mother. "Barbie leaves for the mainland this afternoon. You and your hostage situation can have him then because Barbie will be safe."
Steve clenched his fists. He didn't appreciate being ganged up on by two girls. Where was his Dad when stuff like this happened? He needed a guy for backup. What did mothers and sisters know about military operations anyway?
"Steve." His mother said his name in that 'hand it over or else' tone and he knew there was no changing her mind.
Grudgingly, he slowly extended GI Joe toward Mary, who plucked it out of his hand.
"Thank you." It wasn't a grateful thank you. It was a 'ha ha ha I win' thank you that grated on Steve's nerves. He hated to lose.
"You're welcome, baby sister."
But Mary wasn't fazed by the jibe and turned to her mother. "I'm just going to put Joe back at his post outside the castle doors and I'll be right back." She raced out the door without another word.
Mom squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, honey. Why don't you help me finish getting lunch ready?" She ruffled his hair and he ducked his head back. She acted like he was a little kid. Not that he minded helping with lunch.
"Sure, mom."
"For starters, grab the dressing out of the fridge. I made a nice salad to go with the 'Spac and cheese'."
Steve wrinkled his nose at the nickname he'd given the hated Spam and mac and cheese mixture his sister loved so much.
Mom laughed out loud. "Don't worry, I only mixed Spam into Mary's."
His stomach growling, Steve pulled out the Ranch and the Thousand Island dressing that mom and Mary liked and set them on the table. He liked Ranch just fine, but today he was in the mood for something different so he reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a bottle of vinegar and set it near his plate. Mary hated the smell of vinegar. It would be a good way to irritate her and she deserved it.
He put napkins at all their place settings as his mind churned over the GI Joe matter and how to get even. His thoughts were disrupted when Mary came racing back into the house.
"Mary Anne—what did I tell you about running in the house?"
"Sorry mom," Mary shrugged. "I forgot. I'm hungry. Can we eat?"
They settled down at the table and Steve dished up a heaping helping of salad and doused it with vinegar. He put the cap back on the vinegar and stared at the Heinz label and the amber liquid within. Then a small smile lit his face. He just figured out how to get his revenge. He'd get started right after lunch.
HAWAII FIVE-0
The kitchen assembly line was coming to a close. Mary rinsed the last plate from lunch and handed it to Steve, who dried it and handed it off to his mom. She placed it in the cabinet overhead and shut the door. Satisfied the kitchen was back in order after lunch, she smiled. "Well now that we have the chores over with, what say we head to the grocery store?"
"We just went day before yesterday," Steve said.
"I know, but I have good news. Your Dad is getting home from his Reserve stint earlier than we thought. He'll be home tonight."
"Yay!" Mary shouted, punching Steve in the arm in her excitement.
His own eyes lit up at the prospect, eager for his Dad to come home. Then doubt crept in. "Is anything wrong? Dad usually never gets home from Reserves early."
She ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, Steve. Nothing's wrong. Evidently they had a little equipment snafu and the supplies they were expecting for their training mission didn't come in. Add that to some equipment that's down for repairs, and they decided to call the assignment off two days early."
Steve heaved a sigh of relief. His dad was a great cop and a great Navy man, but he still couldn't help worrying when he was away.
"Anyway, I thought we'd celebrate and fix your dad a special dinner tonight. Hence the grocery store."
Steve nodded his understanding. The special dinner sounded great, but he wasn't much interested in going to the grocery store.
"Hey, mom," Mary piped up. "Can we stop at the arts and crafts store? I need some more foam board."
Steve almost reconsidered. He loved to look through the model section of the crafts store. But still, he'd rather stay home. He'd gotten his mind fixed on his little revenge plot and he wanted to carry it out. "Is it okay if I stay home, mom?" He cast pleading blue eyes at his mother. "I'll be okay here by myself. I'm just going to play in my room."
He could see the doubtful look in his mom's eyes. He kept his face as sincere and earnest as he could. His mother was sharp and he didn't want her to pick up on his plans.
Finally she nodded. "Okay. You are nine now. But I expect you to be responsible. No trouble. Got it?"
"Got it."
HAWAII FIVE-0
Steve emerged from his room about twenty minutes later. After his mom and Mary left, he had gone to play in his room, because technically, he didn't want to lie to his mom. He just didn't want to tell her the whole truth. Satisfied that twenty minutes would ease his conscience, he headed for the kitchen. Standing in front of the cupboards, he tapped his chin. He reached into the pantry, pawing through the items stored there. There were two bottles of vinegar—the half full one he'd used at lunch and a larger family size bottle that hadn't yet been opened.
Perfect.
He set the large bottle of vinegar on the counter then set to searching again, this time grabbing an unopened box of baking soda. He plopped the baking soda down next to the vinegar then headed for the trashcan in the corner, underneath the old yellow phone that had hung on the wall for ages. Digging through the trash, he pulled out the empty 2 liter Dr. Pepper bottle and eyed it critically. Just the right height for this mission.
He leaned against the kitchen counter. His plan was taking shape nicely, but there were still a few things he needed. Like a time-release way to get the baking soda into the vinegar. Then an idea hit him. They'd thrown a birthday party for mom last month!
He went to the opposite side of the kitchen and pulled out the drawer next to the cutlery drawer. He riffled through the variety of junk stored there—batteries of different sizes, a few different rolls of tape, some scissors and other odds and ends. He pulled out some duct tape, some string, and pushing his hand to the back, found the leftover balloons from the party.
Now he was cooking! This was going to be fun. Just like the military stories his dad used to tell him about grandpa.
With a few quick moves, he removed the cap from the vinegar bottle and the soda bottle. As he worked he wondered absently why people always put the lid back on an empty soda bottle when all they were going to do is throw it in the trash anyway. With great care, he poured vinegar into the soda bottle until it was half full of the amber liquid.
That done, he re-capped the bottle and placed it back on the shelf, pushing it far back in hopes it would be a while before his mother noticed the missing vinegar. She'd probably never miss the baking soda. Who ever paid attention to baking soda?
He stuffed the string, tape and balloons into his pockets and grabbed up the soda bottle and baking soda and hurried toward the back door. He froze on the step as another thought came to him and a smile lit his face. Retracing his steps, he went to the cupboard over the stove and pulled down a small bottle of red dye they used for Easter eggs then hustled outside, letting the screen door slam shut against the wooden siding. A quick jog brought him back to Mary's sand castle. He glanced both ways up the beach. Spotting no one, he knelt in the sand and set to work.
With a critical eye, he examined the castle. For a girl, his sister was pretty smart. She'd reinforced the lower walls of the castle. Even used some of mom's old cake pillars to shore up the opening where the castle doors were. Steve carefully poked the top of the castle with one finger. His finger came in contact with a hard surface. Scraping a bit of sand aside, he saw Mary had used a stiff piece of corrugated cardboard to lay as the frame for the roof, and had placed a small layer of sand across that, then built a turret at each corner. He had to smile as he noted the corners of the cardboard castle roof were slightly curved like a Japanese pagoda.
For the briefest moment, he thought it would be a shame to ruin such a nice castle. But he quickly steeled his resolve. Dad said military guys were tough. And after all, he had to get revenge for GI Joe, who was a serious Army man, not a bodyguard for a bimbo celebrity. This would teach Mary to mess with the Army. GI Joe deserved better. Dad said Joe had been a soldier for over twenty years. The only thing better, dad said, would be if GI Joe was a Navy man.
Steve shrugged at the thought. Maybe Joe just ended up at the wrong recruitment office on enlistment day. Anyhow, it didn't matter. Steve knew with this mission, he'd set things right again.
With great care, he removed the roof of the castle. The sight of Barbie seated in a plastic chair in one corner, a plastic book in her hands made him smirk. Her legs were stretched out in front of her as though she were enjoying a day at the beach—inside.
Just like a haole.
By the time he was finished, Barbie would be looking at vacations in Hawaii in a whole new light.
With great care, he uncapped the soda bottle, the strong odor of the vinegar inside assailing his nostrils and drifting away against the breeze from the surf. He hollowed out a circular hole in the sand and carefully settled the bottle into it, working it into the ground until about a third of the bottle was submerged in the grit then firmed up the base with a solid sand wall. He didn't want his experiment to accidentally tip over, plus he needed room for the balloon to work. Once he was sure it was secure, he pulled the bottle of dye from his pocket and uncapped it, pouring the entire contents of the small bottle into the vinegar. The red dye mixed in with the vinegar making bubbles, like someone diving into the water.
Now all he had to do was fill the balloon with the baking soda and set his time release, then he could watch the explosion. This was going to be so cool!
HAWAII FIVE-0
Jack McGarrett rubbed a hand over his face in weariness as he pulled the old Ford into his yard. The Reserve training may have been cut short, but they'd still worked hard. He just wanted to spend some time with his wife and kids, sit down to a good meal, and relax before he had to return to the precinct on Monday.
He heaved a sigh of disappointment as he looked around. Susan's car wasn't in the yard, which meant neither she nor the kids were home. So much for being greeted by your family on the home coming.
Suck it up, McGarrett. It's not like they knew you were getting home even earlier than planned.
Sometimes he couldn't help but feel a little schizophrenic. It was like he was three men living in the same body. The man who craved time with his family and the Navy man who lived for active missions to ensure world peace. And then there was his work at HPD where he and his fellow officers tried their best to uphold the laws of the land. Where they made sure criminals were put away for their crimes so that Hawaii remained a safe place for his family and others to live.
He exited the LTD, the heavy door closing with a satisfying thunk. He admired the long, sleek beauty, a 1973 Brougham Coupe. They sure didn't make cars like this anymore. Tossing the keys up in the air, he caught them again and headed for the front door. He went to turn the key in the lock but was surprised to find the door open.
On instinct, he went on the alert. Honed first by Naval service and then HPD, he'd long ago learned your survival depended on taking precautions when things weren't as they seemed. Trouble was, his service revolver was locked in a cabinet in his study. With care, he pushed open the door and moved in cautiously.
The living room was neat and tidy, as always, save for a few scattered toys in one corner, mostly Mary's. A check of the kitchen showed it spotless as well, but the room reeked of the smell of vinegar. He relaxed then. Probably Susan and the kids were off on an errand and had accidently forgotten to lock the door. It happened.
He went to the fridge and removed a beer—the last one in the door. Twisting the cap off, he took a long swallow. Tossing his Naval cap on the table, he went back through the kitchen and out the side door onto the patio, looking toward the beach.
He stood there, letting the comforting feel of the warm breeze blow over him and the soothing sound of the waves lull his senses. It was good to be home. He stepped off the patio and down into the sand, standing and looking up and down the miles of shoreline, white sand and blue waters lapping gently along its edge.
Then a movement caught his eye off to the right. Probably a hundred yards away, he spotted his son kneeling in the sand, working vigorously over something—a sand castle. His brows drew together in confusion. Was that…a balloon? What on earth was that rapscallion doing?
He'd seen that look on his son before. Sure, he was too far away to see into those dark blue eyes that were so like his mother's, but even from this distance he could see Steve's jaw was set with that single-minded determination when he got his mind on something or he was trying to solve a problem. And Steve was being very precise in his movements as he attached the top heavy balloon to what looked like some sort of plastic bottle.
Jack was too intrigued by whatever his son was doing to announce his presence. Instead, using the shrubbery as cover, he moved down the beach a few feet closer to where his son worked methodically, now taping some string around the circumference of the balloon with an old roll of duct tape. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to let the kid watch MacGyver after all.
Jack was itching to stand and get a better look at the inside of the castle and exactly what Steve had in there but he didn't dare. So instead, he crouched between two Queen palms and watched his son work.
As he watched, it became apparent that his son was conducting some sort of experiment. Some type of dark, red-tinted liquid was in the plastic bottle. Judging from the way Steve held the balloon, he didn't want its contents seeping into the liquid just yet.
That thought caused a niggling of fear to creep down the father's back. Steve had always been keen on science—almost as much as he was grilling him about his life as a cop and as a Naval officer. What exactly was he concocting?
The wind chose that moment to shift direction, heading inland. It carried the scent of salt water and Ohia blossoms…and something else.
Jack inhaled a deep breath. Was that…was that vinegar he smelled?
Moments later a smile lit his face and he knew exactly what his son was up to.
A little undercover demolition.
Jack had to clap a hand to his mouth and rub the smile off his face. Steve knew more ways to get into mischief than any boy he'd ever seen. Even though his own mother swore up and down he'd been ten times worse.
The thing Jack couldn't figure out was—if Steve wanted to destroy the sand castle—and the castle seemed a little too cutesy for Steve's taste, why didn't he just stomp it down?
Cutesy. Aha. The castle must have been Mary Anne's doing. And Steve was about to demo her work. Part of him felt like he should intercede and stop this little exercise before it went any further. But for the life of him, he couldn't do it. He was dying to see whether or not his son pulled off the experiment, and what the boy's reaction would be.
For the briefest of moments, Steve stopped and looked up, as if he'd heard or sensed something. Jack pulled back into the shadows behind the palm. It wouldn't do to be discovered now. After a few seconds, Steve pulled his gaze away from the trees and set back to work. Now all Jack had to do was sit back and wait.
HAWAII FIVE-0
Steve tore his gaze away from the balloon and looked up and around. He had the weirdest feeling he was being watched. Checking both directions along the beach and up into the trees, he watched carefully for a few minutes, afraid his mother and sister had come back already. Of course that was a dumb thought. His sister would make a lousy soldier because she couldn't be quiet if she tried.
Still, he listened for several more seconds, but saw and heard nothing and went back to work.
He was nearly ready to blow up the castle. At least he hoped it worked. With string carefully duct-taped around the circumference of the balloon, he positioned the balloon so the end of the string faced the front of the castle. Checking to be sure the soda bottle was solidly entrenched in the sand and would not move easily, he undid the string that sealed the end of the balloon closed.
He pulled a small plastic flak jacket from his pocket and placed it on GI Joe. "Stand tough, soldier. I've got your back." With that, he positioned GI Joe a little further back in the sand, then scrambled back a few feet himself to wait for the vinegar and baking soda to mix.
With any luck, this mission would end with the castle blown to bits.
HAWAII FIVE-0
Five minutes passed and Steve found himself getting restless. He could tell by the tug on the string he held to keep the balloon upright that it was expanding inside the castle. But it was hard to resist the urge to move closer and check on the balloon's progress. He had to be patient. A soldier always had to be patient to achieve his objective. His father taught him that.
He was rewarded moments later as the balloon became visible above the open top of the castle. He perked up then, calculating the seconds until the combined pressure of the vinegar and baking soda and the carbon dioxide gases erupted the balloon.
He didn't have long to wait. Less than a minute later the balloon made a loud popping sound and a foaming mixture of red spouted a short distance into the air. He was disappointed by its lack of strength but it had been explosive enough to topple the soda bottle, which crashed through the front wall of the castle, the open end of the bottle now poking through the cardboard castle doors, more of the mixture dying the sand red. A good portion of the front wall was crumbled and seconds later, collapsed on top of the bottle.
It looked as if a submarine had torpedoed the castle.
"YES!" Steve's fists raised victoriously in the air and he scrambled forward to get a closer look at the results. He held one fist in the air and moved forward, making noises as though he were a rescue helicopter, then plopped down in the sand in front of the castle, peering in.
The interior of the castle was covered in red. Princess Barbie, formerly with white blonde hair and a blue bathing suit, was now sporting a new red hair-do and an equally red swimsuit.
An improvement, Steve thought.
Satisfied the castle was beyond repair, he crab walked his fingers through the sand, hurriedly slipping them up and over the fallen torpedo bottle, and over to GI Joe, who had landed on his back in the sand.
Steve, with his back to the shore, picked up GI Joe, totally lost in the moment of the mission. He had to check Joe for injuries. He didn't notice his father come up behind him.
"Joe. Hey man, are you all right?" came the voice from out of nowhere.
At first, Steve didn't realize his father had spoken, being so caught up in the moment. Instead, he stood GI Joe up and pretended to nod Joe's head. "I'm good," he answered for the decorated Army soldier.
It was then that he realized it was his father's voice he'd heard and he blanched, whipping his head around to find his father standing over him and GI Joe both. Steve pasted on as innocent a face as he could muster, though he could barely contain his excitement that his dad was home.
"Dad! You're home!" Steve hopped to his feet, holding GI Joe behind his back. "Mom said you weren't getting back 'til tonight."
HAWAII FIVE-0
Jack wanted to be stern with the boy but the abashed shock on the kid's face was priceless. Instead, he reached out to squeeze Steve's shoulder. "We finished up even earlier then I thought." He turned and looked over the remains of the castle. "So…was the mission a success?"
Steve, grateful to delay impending punishment, turned to look over the castle with a critical eye. "Not entirely. The compound was damaged enough to gain access to the inside, but the walls except for the front are still in one piece." He glanced at his father, a glint of mischief in his eye. "But at least it was enough to disrupt the princess' vacation."
Jack looked it over, spotting Mary's red-coated Barbie lying on her side inside the castle walls. "And is that your sister's Barbie?"
Steve gave a wary "Yes sir."
"I see."
Steve hated those two words. Always the words his dad used right before he got a lecture.
"Well son, you know it's not okay for you to destroy your sister's things."
"But she pulled GI Joe from his mission at the race track without asking my permission!"
Jack was perplexed. He wasn't quite sure what Steve's racetrack had to do with anything but now wasn't the time to ask. "That doesn't matter. The point is, you ruined her Barbie."
Steve glanced away, biting his lip.
Jack could tell he was fighting the urge to argue again. Instead the boy's head hung low for a moment and he mumbled. "Yes sir."
"So I expect you to use your allowance money to buy your sister a new Barbie."
This time Steve did argue. "What? I had plans to buy that new model ship of the U.S.S. Missouri and—"
"Steve." Jack's tone brooked no argument.
Steve subsided. "Okay. I will."
About that time they both heard a car door slam and Mary's high pitched voice off in the distance shouting, "Daddy's home!"
Jack knew it would be seconds before Mary found them both. He leaned down and grasped Steve's shoulder. "I'll tell you what. After supper you and I will talk about some ways—some safe ways," he emphasized, "to create an explosive."
"Good. This one didn't pack enough punch." Steve waved at the castle.
Jack tapped his lower lip as he observed his son. Just as he'd taken his son to the shooting range a few months ago to safely introduce him to guns and teach him the importance of safety and the danger of weapons, so he realized it was time for more training.
He dropped down on one knee in front of his son, still keeping a grip on the boy's thin shoulder. "I'll tell you what. They're doing an underwater demolition demonstration next weekend near the base for some of the visiting brass. If I can talk Commander Casey into it, how'd you like to come with me to see it? You can watch it on closed circuit TV."
Steve's eyes grew wide. "Really? You mean it?"
Jack nodded, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. Enthusiasm he wanted to guide carefully. He had a feeling Steve had quite a career ahead of him. "Yes, really. But only if Commander Casey says it's okay."
"Daddy! Daddy!" Mary shrieked.
Before Jack could say more to Steve, he found himself with an armful of his little girl, and he swooped her up into his arms and swung her around. "How you doing punkin?"
As he walked back toward the house, Mary in his arms talking his ear off at a mile a minute, he let the peace and comfort of his family surround him. He glanced back once to see Steve trailing behind them, a happy smile on his face.
What more could a man ask for than to have a job he enjoyed and surrounded by the family he loved?
Especially since he wouldn't have to break the news about the bloodied Barbie until after dinner.
PAU
Author's Note: Thanks to AZGirl for the Beta. Any mistakes are mine.