Updates ... I felt so bad about chapter 13 being so lackadaisical, I just had to make it up to you by giving you 2 chappies at once! Enjoy: )

Trixie21

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story

Part 1: Japan

14. The Setting of Stage One …

Sugoroku was quickly becoming well accustomed to the American idea of life, and perhaps too quickly, to their attitudes as well. As the weeks rolled on, and the language barrier continued to diminish, the boy found himself more and more attempting to emulate the people that he worked for. It wasn't truly because he wanted them to be totally happy with him. It was mostly because he found he liked their style.

They had an easy relaxed manner. They were open to good humor. They made friends relatively easily. They were proud of themselves for being themselves and never afraid to show it. They were independent as a man yet loyal to their company and to their country. They enjoyed leisure when the work was done and didn't worry about tomorrow. In their opinion, it would happen when it got around to it, and it was better dealt with then. They took their orders quickly, but often improved upon them if the option to do so was available. Even better, their commanding officers praised such initiative.

These were ideals that Sugoroku found he liked very much. He did not understand that it was his own individuality, so similar to the American's thinking, that made it such an easy process to assimilate. All he knew for sure was that he was drawn to it.

On the backside of it, too, there was still his need to be different than his father, and in his mind there was nothing more different than the Americans. He was still trying, albeit rather unsuccessfully, to follow his mother's advice and be open to his father's ideas and standards. But it seemed that nothing was going to please the man unless Sugoroku gave in to following him around. For Sugoroku, such conformity to his father's limited life was not an option.

He had tasted too much freedom and choice of will. He was given privilege and responsibility. He knew what admiration and acceptance was. Having been given so little of these things in his school years, he held these ideas in high regard, and began to guard them almost jealously. He was even growing to find that the more these ideas were given to him, the more he refused to give them up. So much so, that by the following spring, when his devotion to those ideas was tested, he made his choice almost without hesitation, and in so doing, said goodbye to what little was left of his Japanese frame of mind.

The events that proceeded it were thus…

That 1946 March day in itself had been the dreariest and dullest of days, as the early days of March often are. It had been a soggy sort of affair in which it did not actually rain, but a heavy mist seemed to just sit over the city, soaking anyone without rain gear down to the skin, as thoroughly as if it had actually poured.

Sugoroku had been given a rain poncho to keep the worst of it from him, but as the day and the work went on, he found it was little to no help at all. The puddles created in the potholed streets of the city - which was actually beginning to look like a city again - had managed at every opportunity, to send a little water his way every time he, someone, or something, splashed through it. By the time they were done their route, Sugoroku was not just soaked, he was literally drenched as if he'd been caught in a monsoon rain! He was quite a miserable sight to see and he was immensely irritated at it, but Mark and his fellow shipmates took some sympathy on Sugoroku, and managed to get him permission to come aboard their ship to change into something dry.

At the mention of this new privilege, Sugoroku's annoyance left him immediately and a mile wide grin crossed his face. He was actually beside himself with delight at this new discovery and more than a little over eager to get aboard. So eager in fact, that he stepped onto the gang plank without hesitation…and nearly fell off! If not for Mark's quick hand, he might well have ended up in the bay. The water, though so far into the bay and away from the ocean, still was subject to the ebb and flow of the ocean's tides. As happens every spring, there was always a stronger chop to it as the waters changed in both temperature and current, and that day was no exception.

Sugoroku had never been on a boat before, and while he understood that they of course moved as per the whims of the water, he had forgotten to be cautious. He looked up sheepishly, expecting someone to laugh, but no one did. They merely smiled at him and Mark helped him the rest of the way after warning him to 'Hold on'. He did hold on, but it was hard to move and not look everywhere at once, without forgetting to look at what he was reaching to hold onto.

As he was led into the lower decks, he found that the doors and passage ways were surprisingly tiny, and many times, when two Americans came to the same point at the same time, one would almost have to completely turn to their side to allow the other through. Pipes of all sizes seemed to run in every direction, including up and down the walls of the halls and rooms that they passed, and after tripping only once, he quickly got into the habit of lifting his feet over the raised bottoms between the separate corridors.

Once in the crews quarters at the back of the ship, Mark tossed Sugoroku a couple of towels and with the donations of a few of the smallest crew members, he soon was dry and changed into a still rather large set of navy issue pants and shirt. The smallest belt they'd managed to find even needed another 6 holes punched into it before it held the pants up on the boy reasonably. The final touch was after Sugoroku had finished rubbing the worst of the wetness from his hair and given it a quick shake. The way it seemed to poof up and out in all directions caused the men to laugh at him.

"Your hair do that all the time?" asked one of the men laughingly.

Sugoroku just gave an embarrassed shrug before he spoke in his only slightly halting English.

"I guess so. I never noticed before."

The man who had asked the question reached over, snatched a cap off of the face of a resting shipmate, and quickly planted it firmly on top of Sugoroku's head. The resting man nearly banged his head on the ceiling as he jumped up quickly.

"Hey, man! Whataya' doin' with my hat?"

"Calm down, Squawk. You're just donating to the kid. You got twenty more in your locker anyway. You can afford to miss one."

The man dubbed 'Squawk' looked over at Sugoroku curiously and then grinned.

"Hey, kid! You don't look half bad. That hat does look pretty good on you."

Sugoroku looked at him nervously, "Do you want it back?" he asked, thinking that perhaps the man would really prefer to make the choice of giving the hat up himself.

Squawk waved it off.

"Nah. It's all yours, pal. Only 'cause it looks so good on you though, otherwise…"

"What are you talkin' about, Squawk? He looks better in that hat than you ever did," joked another man, causing a round of laughter to fill the quarters.

Sugoroku just smiled.

"Okay guys, what say we give the kid the grand tour?" asked Mark aloud.

There was a chorus of 'yes's' from the men present which was then followed by the man who had snatched the cap off of Squawk, saying, "What a tour that'll be!"

He threw out his arms wide and with a dramatic air said, "Welcome, kid, aboard the USS Pemberton DD-549, Fletcher-Class Destroyer, also known affectionately as the 'Battling Bert.'"

"Or the ship that almost wasn't," added a voice from the rear.

The man nodded in agreement, "That too, but more on that later. Right now however, we, the company men know as Bert's Braves, represented by our tomahawk of war on your new head ware, have elected to give you the grand 5 minute tour of this rust bucket we've called home for the last 3 years. My name is Leonard Caloni, but you may call me 'Leo', and I will be your gracious host during this brief, but enlightening waste of time."

The men around laughed, and while Sugoroku missed some of the words said, he understood well enough the inflections given, and found himself laughing as well even though he was really looking forward to it.

With an excessive bow, Leo began, "This, dear Sugoroku, is the aft sleeping quarters where in the best and brightest of us take our rest from our weary and oft times boring work."

A passing crewman who heard Leo's oratory stopped and peered in.

"Best? I think you're a little confused, Leo. The best sleep up front to stay away from the goof plague you guys back here carry."

Leo smiled then countered, "The aft may be daft, but the front gets no c…"

"Leo!" interrupted Mark quickly.

"What?" asked Leo innocently.

"Sugoroku is here for a tour of the ship, not your foul, mind warping phrases," said Mark, more with amusement than any real admonishing.

"Aw, geez, man! I was just kidding."

"Kidding is fine, just a little cleaner, please."

Leo rolled his eyes, but it was in good natured jest.

"All right, all right, Mr. Pure Heart. Sheesh. Just tryin' to make it a little interesting for the kid."

"Don't worry, Leo. He'll find a clean tour just as interesting as a dirty one."

"It's not like he won't find out about most of it anyway eventually."

"Maybe, but later works well enough for now."

Leo laughed as he started leading Sugoroku and the group out of the quarters. He leaned in towards Sugoroku and said to him, "Your friend Mark there is really a great guy, but I gotta' tell ya', he can be a real stick in the mud."

"Stick in the mud?" asked Sugoroku, not understanding the phrase.

"Yeah. It means he takes the fun out of things. That's we like to call him 'Straight Arrow'. He never takes a toe out of line."

"Oh. Does everyone here have another name?"

"Most of us do, yeah. Some like Mark have a nickname that represents who they are in personality, some a particular trait and some like me, just a shorter version of our name."

"Then, what does 'Squawk' mean?"

Leo laughed again.

"Did you hear the way he yelled like a chicken when I took his hat?"

Sugoroku nodded with a smile. Now that he thought about it, it did sort of sound like an angry hen.

"Well, he always does that, so we call him 'Squawk' for it, though he likes to think its because he's on radio at night. We call the radio the 'squawk box' sometimes, so that's where he thinks we get it."

"And he doesn't know?"

"He knows. He just doesn't want to admit it," said Leo with a wink.

Leo was, in all actuality, a decent and funny guide and as per Mark's request, he even managed to keep it fairly clean, though admittedly, even if he had gone a little in the basement, Sugoroku wouldn't have known or understood. At least…not then.

Sugoroku's tour included everything from the main gunner's turrets to the torpedo room, the engine and steering rooms, the machinists area where Mark usually worked and the radio room. The only areas off limits on the tour were the officer's quarters and the bridge. But Sugoroku could hardly complain. What he had seen was marvelous enough.

The tour finished out in the mess hall where the men invited Sugoroku to have an early dinner with them, and though the food was not what he would have called normal, it smelled decent enough and so he opted to try some. It actually wasn't that bad.

It was while he was trying something called chocolate pudding that there was a sudden commotion as the men all around him suddenly stood at strict attention. Sugoroku looked from man to man curiously before deciding to peer around Mark.

What he wasn't expecting was someone to be peering back at him.

Some end notes for you all: It is common practice for the US Navy (and many other navies of the world) to give their ships nicknames. For the Pemberton it was "Battling Bert". These nicknames were sometimes used in codes relayed in ship to ship messages within a flotilla. The company men on board also collectively would nickname their group sometimes based on their ship's second name. Sugoroku's group thus were "Bert's Braves". It was also common practice to paint logos on the ship side or have it on banners, caps and patches and such, to represent their code call name. The first things I imagined were either a Native American Indian tomahawk or even a Native American Indian face. I chose a feathered tomahawk to avoid the over use of the stereotypical Indian face. I do try to be politically correct...at least some of the time. ; )

You know, I thought I made up that lovely little phrase that Leo says above..."The aft may be daft, but the front gets no c…"...ahem, well you get the point I'm sure. Funny thing is, I find out from a WWII Navy man that it isn't exactly original. Go figure. Though he did get a good laugh that someone (a girl of all people!) in this day and age would actually come up with it, especially without living on a destroyer for three or four years!

Next Chapter: Then Came Stage Two…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )