Coffee Chronicles ...Remembering Eddie

Me, HB, and the Spaniards

Whaddup Chroniclers? The HB and I had breakfast with the Spaniards this morning. They’re not expats yet, but it’s coming. Anywho, Carrie says to me, “Love your story about us. Ya got anymore?”

“Have I?” So I thought it was a good time to reprise one of my tales about my former roommate, carpool partner, and academy classmate, Eddie Levy.

If you knew Ed, you had to love him. He was always smiling. He could find the silver lining on any bad day. Eddie would literally give the shirt off his back to someone in need. Anyone who spent any time around him would think they were being filmed by Allen Funt or might have wandered onto the set of Mayberry, RFD, and look around for Andy, Barney, or Aunt Bee. 

I have a million stories about Ed, but I think I’ll tell you the one about our first day at the academy. No, not the day that Ryan Anthill yelled at me for no reason whatsoever. That day that will live on in infamy, and a day for which I will never forgive Ryan, because my first encounter with him has left me forever emotionally scarred. Technically, that day was our orientation day. But that’s a story for another Chronicles. 

This was the following week, on Monday. Day One of the academy.

Monday came, and Eddie was excited. We both were. Eddie wanted us to be the 1st ones to get to our brand-new job. It was our first step into a career we had only dreamed about just months earlier. And now, day one had arrived. We were up and out early. The anticipation was electric. We got to Whittier and arrived to find maybe five cars in the parking lot, all with fresh dew on the windows. Success. 

We grabbed our gear. Each of us carried two freshly dry-cleaned uniforms, in their plastic of course, a pair of spit-shined shoes, a duffle bag with 2 sets of fresh PT gear, and a brand new set of sneakers each, plus a sweatshirt and sweat pants, all of these exactly like the other on hundred twenty-four cadets in our class, with our last names in contrasting green 3” letters across the front and back so that our Drill Instructors knew exactly who they were screaming at by surname, because obviously, our first names had mysteriously vanished. My first name was Cadet. And so was his. …and his…and hers, you get the picture.

We also carried a catalog case with lots of papers, pens & pencils, notebooks, note-taking, and studying materials inside. Oh yeah, and our 6-pack Igloo. Which contained our lunch. That too.

Total weight? About a gazillion pounds. Yup, that is an actual measurement of poundage. And did I mention that we had to carry all that stuff in our non-gun hand? Yessir, because if one of those sneaky little Staff Instructors were to find us carrying our gear in both hands, it would mean getting yelled at, while defenselessly standing at the position of attention, getting berated for violating the cardinal rule of officer safety: not being prepared for the gunfight.

But it could be worse. You could find yourself in the “front-leaning-rest” position, enduring the same lambasting. Bee Tee Dubs: The front-leaning-rest position is an oxymoron and not really a resting position.

Me and the real life Gomer Pyle

Anyway, Ed & I get to our new assignment early because, unbeknownst to me, Ed really didn’t like the locker the staff had “given” him. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to find one more suitable to his liking, one more fitting his caste in life. Despite my whispered protests for him to use the one assigned to him, I watch as Eddie disappeared around the corner and down the aisles in search of his new locker.

While I was still loading my gear into the tiny little space I had been issued, I heard, “WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOOOOOOUUUUU DOING IN MY WORLD, CADET?!?!” 

“Uh oh,” I thought. “This cannot be good,” as I peeked around the corner of my locker row, maintaining cover, of course, so as not to draw the attention and ire of my class Ram Rod, our lead Staff Instructor, who was in the midst of taking Eddie to task. 

The rebuke went on for about a minute or so, but to me, it seemed much longer. Even though it wasn’t me who was getting the butt-chewing, I listened to everything said and took every word to heart. I sat on the bench mouthing “sir, yes, sir” and “sir, no, sir” appropriately to every query, even though those questions weren't directed at me. 

After what seemed an eternity, it finally became deathly quiet in the locker room. I looked around the corner to see Eddie standing at parade rest in the aisle, facing me. I stole a few glances up and down the aisle, and saw no one.

I tiptoed over to Eddie and asked him, “What are you doing?”

He just grinned at me and said gleefully, “I’m the new Fountain Cadet.” 

Puzzled, I looked around and asked, “...the what-now?” 

“Yep,” he continued, “Deputy Johnson put me in charge of this area, and told me no one is to pass.” Then he snapped to attention and looked straight ahead.

“What in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks are you talking about?”

Eddie looked both ways to make sure that when he told me this state secret, no one else could hear him. He then leaned over to me and, in a raspy whisper, explained, “Deputy Johnson said that there has been a breach in security. He said that he’s worried that it could happen again.” Then Eddie looked at me, smiled broadly, and continued, “So he assigned me here to keep an eye out, to ensure that it doesn’t.” 

“I got my first assignment!” He beamed.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

My best friend in the academy was the real-life Gomer Pyle.

You had to love the guy. God rest his soul.

I’m gonna need a cup o’ Joe.

Drink ‘em if you got ‘em!

#coffeehousechronicles