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09-01-2010, 11:24 PM | #1 |
The truth is liberating.
Join Date: May 2010
Location: San Diego, CA
Posts: 2,422
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******************************** Premise: So I've decided to post up some short fan-fiction for this forum just for kicks. The Beginnings Stories are not necessarily an origins story but more of a back story for some characters. These stories take place long before G.I. Joe and focus on the individual characters and how they became part of not the G.I. Joe world, but the characters that flourish in the Joe Universe. Some of the stories may have already been put to print or related in other media. My goal isn't to overlap nor undo any other written stories. But to expand on them. Perhaps give some more insight or the possibility that long before the legend started, they were people with story to tell. These are their stories... **************************************** Beginnings: Hector "Shipwreck" Delgado The sounds of the horns on the pier signify the end of the working shift. Those who are inside the steel behemoth that is dry-docked cannot hear it. But it doesn’t take much to realize that it’s quitting time at the National Steel and Shipbuilding Company. Carlos Delgado already has his tools put into the green canvas bag he uses to transport them to and from the shop. He passes through the passageways of the Navy vessel to cross the Quarterdeck of the ship to the pier. Several sailors in their blue hard hats and uniformed coveralls are also among those departing the ship for the day. Seeing the sailors in their coveralls reminds Carlos that he needs to see if he can make a deal with one of them to get a pair of size 38 Regulars before the retrofit is finished. Most sailors avoid the shipyard workers or yardbirds, as they are called, unless they are specifically asked to work together. For the sailors, being in dry-dock is a time to relax. There’s no underway schedule for at least 90 days and most of the time, they are in duty section only status. The yardbirds are contracted workers to come in and do the retrofit and they are paid well in civilian wages to do so. A majority of the ship’s regular crew is either on leave or training elsewhere while those who remain are often just observers. There’s an apparent mistrust between the yardbirds and the sailors onboard. But it’s generally just stereotypical nonsense. In Carlos’ experience, most of the sailors he met onboard this and other ships were pretty decent people. He appreciated their sacrifice and understood why they would be so apprehensive to the shipyard workers. For several months of the year, this ship is their home. And in most normal occasions, it is those sailors who have to maintain, fix, and repair the ship. Not that Carlos has experienced any of this himself; but he could understand why the sailors would rather do the repairs themselves. It’s like putting their lives in the hands of complete strangers. In Carlos’ case his job is to do sheet metal welding in some of the living spaces. Onboard a ship, there are small compartments that act like dormitories for the crew. The beds or “racks” as they’re called are like three-tier bunk beds. Each 6 foot by 2 foot locker box acts like a bed and storage for the shipboard sailor’s things. And even with Carlos being the one who constructed these things, he always wondered how they could live in such tight living spaces for extended periods of time. As Carlos walks down the pier and past the security guard, he follows his path towards the welding shop where the oncoming shift has already departed and made their way onto the ship to continue the work. When he first started at the shipyard, Carlos worked the swing shift as a general laborer. The work was tough but the hours were even tougher. He would get home after midnight and his wife Rachael and newborn son would be fast asleep. By the time Carlos would wake up, it would be well into the late morning and he would have to get ready his next shift. During this period, there was also a lot of overtime to be worked. On these days, he rarely got to see his family. He wouldn’t even be able to eat breakfast with them and have just enough time to order a greasy burrito from the “roach coach” on the pier. He surely understood how the oncoming shift felt as they departed the shop at half-past five in the afternoon. But he wouldn’t trade places for them, either. Carlos puts his tools into his locker and clocks out. His flannel shirt and Dickies work pants are dirty from the dust and sheet metal shavings. He unbuttons the shirt to expose an equally dirty white t-shirt. Upon arrival to the parking lot that is several blocks away; he climbs into his red Nissan Sentra and turns on the radio. The radio is already tuned into KSON, the country music station. He never used to like country music until he met his wife. And now it’s about all he listens to. It relaxes him. Carlos then drives from the shipyard exhausted but satisfied. It’s another day that he can say that he provided for his family. His son, Hector is no longer a baby, though. At 17 years old, he’s a young man now and has all the needs that a growing teenage boy requires. He’s discovered girls and now needs the attire and the vehicle to attract these ladies. Carlos thinks about his youth and prays silently that Hector doesn’t get wrapped up into the some of the same things he did when he was his son’s age. And as Carlos exits the freeway on H Street he begins to worry about his son. Hector’s attention has been slipping from his studies. His report cards have been riddled with comments that he is a constant prankster and is lacking in the use of his full potential. This is disturbing to Carlos and as he passes Hilltop High School, he wonders if his son actually attended today. As Carlos pulls into the driveway, he sees Hector crouched next to his motorcycle. He’s working on it with two of his friends sitting next to him on the grass. They both have bottle containers wrapped in a paper bag. Carlos doesn’t care for Hector’s friends as they remind him way too much of some of the friends that Carlos had at that age. These friends have either been killed, ended up in jail, or battling drug abuse. He opens the car door and climbs out to give the two friends a hard stare. These are not issues he wants to have his son deal with. He then addresses Hector with a stern voice, “I hope that you’re not sitting out on my lawn drinking that malt liquor.” Hector straightens up from the milk crate that is his seat, “No sir, I’m not.” The friends snicker and make comments in Spanish behind Hector’s back. “Good,” his father states. “And I want you in here for dinner tonight. We have some things to talk about.” “I know, pop. Mom already let me know,” Hector says sulking as if he already knows that he is in trouble. “Give me about 15 minutes.” Carlos walks to the front porch and turns to his son, “Be cleaned up and ready for dinner in 15. No later, entiendes (do you understand).” “Si papa,” Hector replies back in Spanish. His Spanish is weak compared to his friends whom had both parents speaking to them in the language since birth. Hector’s father was from Sinaloa and moved to Chula Vista when his family migrated over to the United States. But Hector’s mother has no Hispanic lineage whatsoever. She’s a “gringa.” A generally negative term that his Grandma Delgado would call Hector’s mother behind her back. Not that his mother, Rachael (formally Davis) Delgado, didn’t do her best to embrace the culture of her Hispanic husband. She learned many recipes from Carlos’ mother and learned many of the cultural ways; even if Carlos himself wasn’t much for keeping tradition alive. They even lived with his grandmother and two aunts for awhile after his grandfather passed away. Hector’s father was the eldest of two sons and when Hector’s uncle Rico was killed shortly after their father died; it put all the responsibility on Carlos. Hector’s friends leave and he pushes the motorcycle into the garage. His mother has set the table and they are having homemade enchiladas for dinner. His younger sister, Stephanie, is already at the table waiting. She sticks out her tongue as he enters the room and heads to the bathroom to clean up. Upon returning from cleaning up, Hector sits next to his father who had just come from the shower and is now clean from a hard day’s work. There was an uncomfortable silence as his mother serves up the dinner. His father already has a cold beer open in front of him but Hector decides to break the ice by offering to get up and get another one. His father declines and the four of them exchange glances to see who’s going to initiate the conversation. His sister blurts out something about purple ponies and when Hector opens his mouth to engage in conversation with her (in an avoidance of the inevitable), his mother purses her lips and tells Stephy to tell them about the ponies later. Carlos gives his son a stare and Hector can’t handle it anymore. He breaks down and admits his fault, “I dropped out of school.” “Pinche barboso,” his father mutters just loud for everyone to hear. Stephy coos from the other side of the table at the curse words of her father. “Listen, pop. I’ve got a plan,” Hector tries to explain. “What!” his father exclaims. “You gonna run the streets with those cholos you hang with?” “No, not that at all,” Hector cries out. His father interrupts again, “Then what? You knock somebody up? It’s that little gringa you’ve been going out with, huh? What’s her name? Nicole? Natalie? Whatever… she’s no good for you.” Hector’s mother gives her husband a look of shock for his blatant words of hypocrisy, but decides to let it go. “You don’t get it at all!” Hector exclaims trying to get a word in edgewise. “What I don’t get is how you just drop out of school like that,” his father continues. “Believe me, I know that route your about to take. Do I need to remind you about your uncle Rico?” “No you don’t. I hear it all the time from abuelita (grandmother), from Auntie Sofia and Rita, and from you!” Hector tries to defend himself. “Then how the hell did you get yourself into this situation?” his father furiously exclaims. “Never mind that now. I’ll just get you a job at the yard. It’ll be tough work. But I suppose you’re ready for that, huh? You’re a big man, now? You can make decisions on your own!” Hector stands up from his seat, pushes his long, black hair from his face and places his hands down on the table, “Stop! Please! Hear me out. I don’t want to be a yardbird. Don’t get me wrong, pop. Its good work, but not what I want to do. That’s it, though. I don’t know what want to do, but I do know what I don’t want to do.” Carlos hangs his head down and places it in his hands. He would have never disrespected his own father like this. Why does his own son treat him so badly? How dare he raise his voice to his father like this. “Listen father,” Hector continues. “I talked to a Navy Recruiter last week. I figured it was the best way to go since I kind of know my way around a ship from your experiences and helping you during the summers. I can get in and do different jobs until I find something that I like. They’ll help me get my G.E.D. and even pay me and feed me. I’ll be out of your hair and I won’t be part of any gang. But there’s only one thing I need from you and mama.” Carlos lifts his head from his hands and with a sarcastic tone, “What? The keys to my car so you can run off and never come back.” “No pop,” Hector replies. “I just need you and mama to sign a waiver. They normally don’t accept anyone under 18 unless it’s okay with their parents.” There is a slight pause as Hector remains standing. He realizes his posture is a bit defensive so he sits back down. His mother gives Carlos a glance as if she is unsure about this decision. Carlos smiles back at her and they both nod. Stephy remains chattering away at nothing while playing with the beans and rice on her plate. Carlos turns to his son, “I guess you’re going to have to get rid of the silly mustache and get a haircut then, huh?” ******************************** A note from the author: This story is very special to me because it contains one of the Joes that I could relate most to. Like Shipwreck, I was combat Navy. Also like him, I grew up in the San Diego area. And again, like him I am Hispanic. So it means alot to me to present this story for your reading pleasure. As always, your input and greatly desired and welcome. I have written many stories, articles, and reviews in my time. Many of which have been published. These I do just for the fans here on Hisstank.com. Like you, I love G.I. Joe and it is my favorite subject to write about. I wish that the brand had alot more than comics for us to read. As a novelist, nothing would please me more than to see G.I. Joe hit the stores in paperback as a novel series, much in the same likes as Star Trek and Star Wars have had for years. If you're interested in my writing and would like for me to contribute to your website, media publication, or you would like to add me to your publishing roster. Feel free to email me: [email protected] Thanks and YO JOE!!!!
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Code Name: One-Stop *IT1(SW/AW/FMF)* My B/S/T list. My Feedback Some of my written musings: Some G.I. Joe lore written by Dallas Martin Last edited by Sailor_Joe; 09-07-2010 at 01:35 PM.. |
09-01-2010, 11:40 PM | #2 |
Loser
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: WA State
Posts: 311
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WOW, that was awesome. It really gives you a feel for where Shipwreck (and you Joe) come from. Most of the time when fiction is written it is based in fact...it has to be to add the reality factor. Very Very cool.
Reaper
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Don't give me an excuse....no one would miss you. |
09-02-2010, 12:23 AM | #3 |
Cobra Viper
Join Date: Aug 2009
Location: Lancaster
Posts: 277
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good read...bravo
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09-02-2010, 12:41 AM | #4 |
The truth is liberating.
Join Date: May 2010
Location: San Diego, CA
Posts: 2,422
|
Thanks guys. I like writing these Beginnings stories. They're fun and an easy read. This one particularly hit home with me. I try to base me writings off the original file cards and other stories and build off of it. Thanks again so much for enjoying it!
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Code Name: One-Stop *IT1(SW/AW/FMF)* My B/S/T list. My Feedback Some of my written musings: Some G.I. Joe lore written by Dallas Martin |
09-02-2010, 01:22 AM | #5 |
IG85 - Mortarman
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: Sun Prairie, WI
Posts: 8,885
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Bravo, sir! You captured my attention completely. I will look forward to reading more of these...
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09-02-2010, 01:58 AM | #6 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Apr 2009
Location: Australia
Posts: 2,294
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Awesome job Joe, can't wait to read more. I like the fleshing out of characters
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09-04-2010, 10:28 PM | #7 |
The truth is liberating.
Join Date: May 2010
Location: San Diego, CA
Posts: 2,422
|
Thanks for reading... I'm actually working on another one right now. Hopefully posted up soon.
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Code Name: One-Stop *IT1(SW/AW/FMF)* My B/S/T list. My Feedback Some of my written musings: Some G.I. Joe lore written by Dallas Martin |
09-07-2010, 08:33 AM | #8 |
Hector Delgado
Join Date: Jun 2009
Location: South FL
Posts: 11,442
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One-Stop... Got two words for you about the above story.
YO JOE! This story gets the Shipwreck Stamp of approval. :) Great write up!
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🗻 |
09-07-2010, 08:53 AM | #9 |
Lurk Ness Monster
Join Date: Oct 2007
Location: Transcarpathia
Posts: 262
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I really enjoyed reading that--thanks! I'll be looking forward to more from you!
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ARAH. O-rings. Hama. 'Nuff said! |
09-14-2010, 02:26 PM | #10 |
The truth is liberating.
Join Date: May 2010
Location: San Diego, CA
Posts: 2,422
|
Thanks guys!!!
I had to do some re-editing on the next story. More to come!
__________________
Code Name: One-Stop *IT1(SW/AW/FMF)* My B/S/T list. My Feedback Some of my written musings: Some G.I. Joe lore written by Dallas Martin |
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