IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER

Krack followed me as I trudged up to the Helo deck after we finished loading rounds of ammo into the MK42's magazine. We were tired from passing the seventy pound shells from sailor to sailor into the magazine beneath the cannon. The sun shone brightly up on deck an hour before sunset. The water rippled with the sun's diamond like reflection. We sat on the deck, just outside the hangar door admiring the sun's sparkling art work. A couple of guys were playing basketball inside. One of them asked us to play.

“I'd rather play on a court that doesn't have a constantly moving basket,” Krack said.

“Anticipating the speed of the ship's rocking is what makes shooting baskets such a challenge,” a player said and dribbled the ball in front of him a couple of times.

“How about you?” he asked, as he turned to face me. “If you're any good we could play two on one.”

“Nah. The gunfire from the choppers is too distracting,” I said. “I've got too many things on my mind.”

“I don't want to hear any bullshit whining out of you,” Krack said as he stood up and grabbed my arm. “We're stuck in this fuckin' war. It's going to continue whether we play basketball or not, and right now, you need to play because we will all be back on battle station in a couple of hours.”

Krack and I took off our shirts. He tossed me the ball and I dribbled until I was blocked. I passed the ball to him. He jumped and threw the ball, too far to the left of the basket, or so it seemed. The ship swayed and the ball swished through the basket.

“Tell me that wasn't the most beautiful shot you've ever seen,” Krack said.

We played for twenty minutes until one of the other guys had to leave to stand his watch. Krack and I stepped out of the hangar while putting our shirts back on our sweaty torsos. We resumed our previous positions, sitting just outside the hangar door. Looking west, over the hills beyond the battle, I watched the sun descend behind the hills.

“Look, Krack,” I said, punching him in the shoulder. “The sun is cloud painting again. God, that's a gorgeous sunset.”

“It’s weird that we can be out here on the water,” Krack said, “the war waging not more than two hundred yards off our port side and you stop everything to point out a gorgeous fuckin' sunset.”

“It's no weirder than playing basketball on a rocking ship while our five inch gun kills only God knows who.”