Year 5: This Should Piss You Off, You Know…
…
Squech. Squech. Squech.
Captain Alfonzo turned at the odd sound suddenly filling the room. Just a second before, the auditorium had been drowned in chatter from his crew, half irritated by the annual crew portraits and half buzzing with news from other crews they had been speaking with before they had been called inside. The crew knew that now was the time to be quiet because they needed to hear the pictographer's directions. So Alfonzo was mildly annoyed that his crew was making noise. And so close to him, too. Did they want the captain to knock their head off?
He found the source standing right behind him.
Clad in fresh, clean airman's tunics and black slacks, the year's uniform style.
Soaking wet from head to toe with their hair matted to their skulls.
And caked in fresh mud.
Alfonzo looked down at the two youngest members of his crew, his face a difficult read due to his own conflicting thoughts. He was certain he knew what had happened. Both boys were fond of the small lake up the road from the office, both for lunch and for swimming. Knowing their habit of letting their words provoke one another, an argument between them escalated to a wrestling match. Or maybe a fistfight; both appeared to be sporting the beginnings of a black eye. Either way, they found their way into the lake. The heavy breathing indicated that, at some point, one of them (most likely Link) realized that they were late for the pictographs and immediately ran here from the lake. And both of them knew they were in trouble, focusing their guilty looks on Alfonzo's gut rather than his face.
Alfonzo heaved a disappointed sigh and glanced at Lieutenant Greg, who could only return a concerned look. "All right, boys," he told them. "Get in line with the rest."
"Aye aye, sir…" both boys groaned as they joined the line of amused airmen quietly cackling at them.
Greg gave him a confused look. His arm struggled to indicate the boys as he tried to form his own explanation for this response. The crew was expected to present themselves with a professional air and appearance for the portraits, as they would be displayed in the office throughout the year. Having two airmen sitting in a pictograph wet and muddy seemed like a good way to bring the fleet captains down on top of them.
However, Greg failed to see how this was going to end well. So, he asked, "Sir, shouldn't they go clean up?"
"No," Alfonzo said. "No, I think having their stupidity memorialized again will do them some good. So far, this is the worst they've done to each other."
Greg thought he was joking. However, his superior appeared bored with thinking about it any further. Greg would not realize until later that this would be the tone to set his year as first officer of the Grand Sails.
