Desperado Dale (Scenic Route to Paradise) (9 page)

BOOK: Desperado Dale (Scenic Route to Paradise)
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Instantly, the picture before them including the
humongous wave opened like a zipper. The sun burst through, shining from the
other side as the sloop continued forward into the still panorama. They rode on
a crest of an independent mound of sunny water passing the silent, still black
shadow of death and then, between the walls of the tsunami!

Mouth gaping, Merry watched as the bisected wave
allowed them through. She shifted her gaze for a mere moment to see Junior’s
expression. Hands gripping tight the handrail before him, Junior had his head
thrown back and was singing like a drunken sailor... a holy sailor filled with
the new wine. She almost wanted to wake up so she could tell Junior of what she
had seen of him in her dream but she resisted.

Looking to Mac, his hand on her arm and a
smiling song coming from his lips, Merry then turned again to the valley they
were traversing. It was like Moses and the children of
Israel
crossing the
Red Sea
with the waters held up
on either side of the escaping group. Not remembering that the words were found
in the Book of Micah chapter six, Merry thought of God’s reminder to His people
of old:

I brought you up from the land of Egypt, I
redeemed you from the house of bondage; and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and
Miriam
.

After
Israel
was delivered, the King of Egypt and his army
were destroyed by the imploding waters. A thought erupted in her mind and she
turned quickly toward the rear of the sloop. Zeff and Tino were hugging one
another like frightened and naughty brothers who had been caught stealing
cookies. Beyond the stern, the ocean churned purple and frothed and boiled.
Everything was in motion again! The sky, a backdrop of pale blue with
red-orange fireballs cascading from the flitting ships made a surreal scene. As
Merry watched mesmerized by the violent picture off the stern, an ominous group
of aircraft broke away from the high and heated battle. As one, a dozen or more
dropped down heading for the breach in the tsunami wall even as a distinctively
different squadron pressed in behind them in chase. The approaching aircraft
were much larger than she had originally supposed. As they swooped lower, Merry
had the impression that the
Serendipity
was their targeted goal. A spasm
of apprehension knotted in her stomach.

It’s only a dream!
She reminded herself
but the fear remained. The foremost flying objects looked a lot like
pterodactyls as Merry remembered from illustrative books and movies. The
aircraft following seemed to herd the mechanical pre-historic look-a-likes into
the watery chasm formed by the unzipped tsunami. There were two more waves
coming behind the first colossal one and these were halved as well. The sloop had
ridden through all three without trouble. However, as the enormous strange
crafts came tearing through the valley opening in the great waves aiming for
the
Serendipity
, the heaped up sea walls collapsed swallowing the entire
airborne troop within a half a mile from where Merry and Mac stood.

The singing trio went silent at this fantastic
deliverance.

All was startlingly quiet except the slosh of
water against the boat and the muffled rumble of the motor.

And then, Junior’s solemn voice, “...The sea
returned to normal beneath the morning light. They tried to flee, but the Lord
drowned them in the sea. The water covered the path and the chariots and
horsemen. And of all the army of Pharaoh that chased after
Israel
through the sea, not
one remained alive. God’s people were delivered and the waters had been walled
up on either side of them.”

The sailboat rocked wildly from side to side but
the scene behind them was changed. All was calm. There were no pursuing
aircraft. The mountaintops that had been protruding from the receding waters
were nowhere to be seen. The water was not purple and frothy but a grey-green
with a mild swell and white caps, here and there. There were no tsunamis racing
for the North African shore. No aircraft in formation...

A myriad of gulls and a lone albatross circled
less than a mile behind them.

Merry had been holding her breath as she gripped
Mac’s upper arm. Her head began to swim. With Mac’s strong hand continuing to
hold her forearm, he helped her as she sat abruptly in the captain’s chair.
Closing her eyes, she was overcome with fatigue. She heard Mac shuffling about
and then as the sun was blocked, she realized he had erected the sunshade
canopy. Dozing off for a minute or more, Merry shot her eyes open. Mac was
gone. Looking over her shoulder, Junior was not standing where he had been. She
faced the stern but even Zeff and Tino were no where in view.

Down below in the galley, the men were seated
about the table. When Merry came through, they quit speaking and in the pause, an
excited Merry said, “Junior! I had the craziest dream and you were in it!” Mac
shook his head but Junior turned to look at her.

“For reals! Come above decks and I’ll tell you
all about it… Grab those chips. I’m hungry,” she told him.

Mac interrupted her plans by saying, “He’ll be
up as soon as you take your life vest off and stow it along with the others...
Step lively, my dear. Step lively.”

 

Chapter 13  Stowaway

Anna took the hairpin right as per Dale’s
grandfather’s instruction. He was reading from Sylvia-the-Innkeeper’s map.
Gwyneth had fallen asleep. Bean was awake but quiet as she took notes for her
memorable family cookbook; at least, as a great-grandmother she intended it to
be unforgettably famous.

The morning was young and Anna thought best and
with clarity early in the day. She began to rethink the events of the last few
days and then also, the last few months when their travel progressed slowly,
almost to a standstill in
France
. Nothing she had prepped for as a youngster or educated
adult, mother or Christian had readied her for the unprecedented situation she
found herself in. The stability Anna longed for had been left back in their row
home in
Philadelphia
, along with the unmade
bed.

Ah! I was come back to the unmade bed...

The morning that they had flown out to
London
, Anna’s alarm didn’t go
off. But that hadn’t unsettled her… No. Her sister had come over the night
before and taken the refrigerator items home with her including the half and
half, but even so Anna could live without cream in her morning java if
necessary. She had argued with Dale and Gwyneth was fussy with a slight fever and
yet, these memories held no regret in Anna’s mind.

Knowing it was unreasonable and borderline
obsessive, Anna continued to fret over leaving the bed in disarray.

The eldest of five siblings, at eight years old
Anna was the first to learn her chores and to understand the importance of
routine. Her parents, both first generation Greeks were frugal people of order
and consistency. Making her bed every morning was the first step in stabilizing
her day. She couldn’t remember a morning in the past two decades when she had
not made the bed before launching into the day.

Why, even the morning I gave birth to Gwennie, I
made our bed before leaving for the birthing center
, she recalled with an
upside-down smile.

Like reading her Bible each morning and then
spending time in prayer, making the bed was a consecrated action ranking at the
level with moral duty in Anna’s mind.

Dale had hustled her out the back door. The car
was packed; Gwennie was in her seat and she was clipping her own seat belt as Dale
threw the car into reverse when she remembered.
The bed!

Dale had said,
‘Don’t worry! It’s not the end
of the world!’ But he was wrong.

After that, everything went to pot: Earthquakes,
missile attacks and absolutely useless credit cards.

Now, months later as she wound her way through
the back roads of Kerkyra on an exceptionally warm morning with no aircon in
the rental car, Anna acknowledged that leaving the bed unmade was not the
trigger that had set all the other destabilizing events in motion. Initially,
each setback, news report and argument seemed to stem from her leaving the bed
in upheaval. She commiserated with Frodo from Tolkien’s trilogy who rushed out
the door forgetting his pipe on the first morning of a long journey. The Hobbit’s
experience was hers...

Anna reflected on her inner struggles concluding
that God used the bed left messy as a personal object lesson. Slow to change,
Anna was not simple minded but she was pragmatic. Yes, making the bed was
keystone to routine and balance in her life but not if her schedule excluded
interruptions from God.

Had my life, my lifestyle eliminated God’s
supremacy as Lord or His leadership as Great Shepherd toward me
?

Comparing her life now to the rigid routine of
her recent past – a lifestyle of comfortable consistency, made Anna grimace.
She had read once that foolish consistency was the hobgoblin of sound minds.
Realizing that she had allowed her strict schedule to press God’s daily voice
from her life, Anna concluded that she had become her own good shepherd.

There wasn’t much opportunity to see sheep or
shepherds in action around
Philadelphia
but she had been to
Greece
a number of times. Not
once did she see sheep alone or running about without restriction whether it be
fence or dog or shepherd. Sheep did not shepherd themselves and if let alone, a
single sheep was an imminently dead sheep.

Giggling from the now wide awake Gwyneth
continued until Anna’s thoughts were thoroughly disrupted.

Grandpa Bernie said excitedly, “There is a
street urchin peeping in the back window!”

Gwennie had wiggled free of her seat
constraints. She was standing, facing the rear window waving and laughing.
Bernie had cinched himself up to take a look at her humorous object when he saw
the dust covered face of Guppo.

Pulling over, Anna and Bernie hopped out
simultaneously from opposite sides of the car. Anna grabbed at the blurry
figure of Guppo as he belatedly tried to make a run for it. Part hair and part
ear remained in her grip and he let out a shriek as he struggled. When Bernie
grasped the child’s arm, Anna shifted her hold.

She said, “Stop! Stop it! We are not going to
hurt you. Hold still…” and other such commanding words in the Greek which
caused Guppo to compose himself.

Bean got out from the front seat and came toward
them with a package of baby wipes. Anna took one and made a clean circle on
Guppo’s face.

Tears sprouted from his eyes when Anna asked,
“Aren’t you the boy from last night? You ran to the inn ahead of us so they
could prepare for our stay.”

He explained that he was the courier and then
Guppo told Anna his desire to catch a ride to Avliotes.

Anna translated to Bean and Bernie their
conversation. But it was growing hot standing in the sun and the older couple
returned to the car.

After wiping him down with half a dozen wet
wipes, Anna directed Guppo into the back seat next to Bernie. After some
chit-chat between the Greeks, the boy grew silent and fell asleep.

Bean asked Anna for her mother’s Mousaka recipe
and Anna patiently recited it as the other took notes. Afterward, Anna
nonchalantly described Guppo’s encounter with the motorcyclist from the evening
before. She hadn’t finished her tale when two motorcycles flashed by going in
the other direction.

Guppo sat up, swiveling his head to watch the
dust clouds behind them. He shouted at Anna and she shouted back. The boy
opened the door and would have jumped from the moving vehicle if she hadn’t
told him hotly that she
would
pull over.

Guppo wretched free from Bernie’s hold and ran
from the slowing rental car. Mr Adams trotted after him the moment the car
stopped.

Bean asked, “Well, what was that all about?”

“He was yelling that the man on the motorcycle
would kill him if he caught him,” Anna said nervously.

“Really! Who was the man? And why would he want
to harm a child?” Bean inquired, hoping to understand more of the unraveling
mystery. She set her reading glasses aside and with resignation, placed her
recipe notebook in the glove box.

Anna opened her door. She said, “I think they
must be part of the New Dawn group and the boy misled them. He lied to them...
about us.”

Sleek café motorbikes with men dressed in black
leathers came screeching to a dusty halt in front of the car. Gwennie started
wailing. She had been asking for water for some minutes but everyone had
ignored her in the confusion of Guppo’s exit.

Anna handed the baby bag off to Bean and then
turned to find a short thickset man standing intimidatingly near her.

In fluent Greek, she said, “Hello there! We’ve
been waiting for you!”

 

Chapter 14  Karlo

Bernie came puffing and limping back, only to
find a couple of shiny black motorcycles parked next to the rental car. Bean’s
window was down and Gwyneth was climbing about the backseat singing a World War
Two cadence that her great-grandfather taught her.

BOOK: Desperado Dale (Scenic Route to Paradise)
6.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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