Catching Kate (Scenic Route to Paradise)

by Andrea Aarons

  Catching Kate

  Book #3 ~ Scenic Route to Paradise

  A Novel by Andrea Aarons

  Book #1 ~ Cynic, Surfer, Saint

  Book #2 ~ Merry’s Marauders

  Book #4 ~ Desperado Dale (Due out August 2012)

  Once when young Abe Lincoln was reading

  Aesop’s Fables aloud, his distant cousin visiting from

  the island nation of D’Almata commented,

  “Abraham - dear cousin, those stories are lies... all lies.”

  Lincoln looked up and after a moment he replied,

  “Darn good lies! Mighty darn good lies!”

  Quoted from the royal annals of D’Almata, 1847.

  Catching Kate

  Chapter 1 Puerto Vallarta

  Chapter 2 Safari

  Chapter 3 A Bee to Nectar

  Chapter 4 Darn it, Durban

  Chapter 5 Cape Town Confusion

  Chapter 6 Scenic Route

  Chapter 7 Coco

  Chapter 8 Creatures

  Chapter 9 Strange Night - Strange Sight

  Chapter 10 The Tungi Pub

  Chapter 11 A Man in Exile

  Chapter 12 Pirates Take a Holiday

  Chapter 13 A Dime a Dozen

  Chapter 14 Captain Yosef’s Woman

  Chapter 15 GPS: God Positions Saints

  Chapter 16 Middleman Mischief

  Chapter 17 Dr. Smith

  Chapter 18 Journal Entry

  Chapter 19 Sunset at Val’s Place

  Chapter 20 A Good Boy

  Chapter 21 Catch and Release

  Epilogue

  Desperado Dale

  Chapter 1 Puerto Vallarta

  It was not a banner day for Zeff. In hindsight, he remembered only the ongoing argument with his father that peaked with yelling and pushing followed by several hours of heavy drinking at his favorite cantina. He had planned to spend the night on the yacht but as Zeff staggered toward the dock he was jumped. That was all he remembered.

  Junior Tapia had climbed to the tiny crow’s nest with binoculars slung about his neck. He had panned the horizon. It was a black night and there was nothing to be seen. When he heard the grunts and thumps and groans of an obvious fight behind him, Junior swung around dropping the binoculars to his chest. Watching for a moment, he realized the guy was getting hammered by several others. Looking down toward the deck, he saw Merry coming up the forward companionway below.

  “Merry,” he called to her. She looked up and waved. Junior pointed to shore and yelled, “They’re killing that guy!”

  Merry ran to the starboard rail and then to the aft companionway yelling for Mac.

  Mac was in the navigation room and when Merry began yelling, he had already started for the deck. He caught her as she came down. Interrupting, he said, “Listen, we’re casting off immediately. Where’s Tino?”

  Merry was wide-eyed. “Mac, there’s a fellow getting murdered on the quay. It’s like ten on one! Can’t we do something?” She pulled him along the companionway. On deck, they leaned on the rail but the assault was over and the landing empty, quiet.

  Junior called down from the mast as he descended, “He’s in the water. They threw him in.” Mac and Merry looked into the shiny bay water and there he was floating head down.

  Mac began pulling off his shirt, “Where’s Tino? Tell him we’re getting underway!” He called up to Junior, “Throw me a line once I get him back to the boat.”

  “Oh no, Mac...” Merry began but he was over the side with a splash before she could formulate her thoughts. His loafers empty on the deck next to her.

  She watched him swim toward the pilings as the body seemed to be drifting in that direction. Junior was next to her with a life ring and she realized she needed to awaken Tino.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told Junior. Merry went down the forward companionway to the quarters in the bow. She banged on the door and Tino opened.

  “Mac wants you to know we are leaving... weighing anchor, as they say. He said, ‘immediately.’ So I don’t know what happened to leaving on Saturday.” Merry told him.

  As far as Tino knew, no anchor was dropped. They were in a boat slip moored to the dock. He scratched his head, “Now?”

  Merry nodded. “Up top, Mac’s in the water. He is trying to fish some poor guy out. Junior’s helping him but he told me to tell you to prepare to get underway...” said Merry with hesitation as she wasn’t clear on the terminology.

  “Crazy but I’ll be right up,” Tino said.

  Mac had the man in a lifesaver’s hold as he swam back to the 72’ sloop. When Junior tossed the ring into the water, Mac wrapped it around the fellow’s upper torso. “Crank him aboard!” Mac yelled and Junior began turning the winch to which the rope was fastened. Mac had gone over these exercises five or six times and so Merry dropped the rope ladder for his return aboard even before he called to her.

  Mac was on deck helping Junior and Tino haul the lifeless form over the rail a moment later. “Good work, guys. Merry take care of this fellow while we cast off. He isn’t breathing,” Mac said and then he had Tino and Junior running about. There was no sail up but the departure preparations needed to be effective. Mac wanted no mishaps, not now.

  This was a Mexican port so Merry was not surprised to see the man was apparently Mexican and very young - under thirty, surely. She began CPR. As their boat moved away from the lighted quay, Merry saw water spill from his lips. She pumped some more and then he took a deep breath before gagging, coughing and sputtering. He is going to make it! He moaned and rolled over but when he tried to sit up, he threw up and collapsed against the deck with a thud.

  Merry decided he was drunk. Beat up, yes and half drowned, yes again but also - drunk. She moved away from him and realized the motor was humming. Looking astern, she saw the sloop was a quarter mile or more from shore, already.

  She remembered the Jacob’s ladder and pulled it in. Besides the navigation room below, there was a helm station on deck too. Merry saw Mac looking at her as she stowed the ladder.

  She went to him and he pulled her close. They had been married all of seven weeks. Under normal circumstances, people would certainly have said that Malak and Merry D’Almata made a handsome couple. Merry was 22 years old and at a trim 5’8” with a lightly olive complexion and golden brown eyes framed in naturally dark lashes and brows but with long ash brown hair - she was a beauty. Mac at 6’1” had no fat. His hair and eyes were dark brown. His smile white and his chin, dimpled. He was thirty-five and he looked it with a mature athletic build and wide shoulders.

  Times weren’t normal. The continental United States had been bombed by not one but three countries on the heels of a major Midwest earthquake. The damage could have been much worse but even so, the world was put on its ear over this blow to the super power.

  Mac was not American. He came from the Adriatic Sea where the island nation of D’Almata was located between Italy and Croatia - just north of Greece. He had arrived in March to help Merry at her mother Toni Merriweather’s request but when normalcy fled, Mac was forced to stay. Now, three months later, he was leaving the Americas with Agnes Merriweather D’Almata as his bride. He was a happy man.

  “Mac, what happened to Saturday? Something’s come up,” Merry said. She stood next to him as he was seated at the helm.

  “Yes... another earthquake and also, a tsunami warning for this coast. There is a few hours before it hits but I did not want to be in this bay or anywhere near the shore. Tino is below decks listening to the radio. We’ll know more in a little bit,” he told her. Merry said nothing but she began to bite her lower lip.

  She asked, “What wil
l we do when the waves arrive? I mean, how big was the earthquake and what do we do?” Merry realized for the first time in the weeks of talking about this trip that she hadn’t considered how vulnerable they might be. The ocean had seemed so safe after fleeing the chaos enveloping New Mexico and Texas.

  “Your hair smells nice,” he said pulling her near again. She relaxed under his hold. He added, “Don’t worry. We’re leaving so we won’t be caught by a tsunami. At sea, a boat rides waves. So when it comes we will just pop over the top of it like a buoy in the bay. You’ll see.”

  “Oh... I suppose, I have a lot to learn but I’ve found you are a good teacher,” she gave his hand at her waist a squeeze.

  “Hey, your friend is trying to sit up again. Get those guys, Junior and Tino and tell them to help this guy get to bed,” Mac said as he gave a thrust of his chin toward the soaked and obviously groggy fellow before them.

  Chapter 2 Safari

  Kate Merriweather had detoured to South Africa on her way to the Adriatic. The detour was meant to be a soul searching, reconnection with her carefree youth kind-of-trip but on day 7 - the day after her best friend left to return to the states, catastrophe struck.

  Amanda had hopped the tour bus back to Johannesburg while Kate opted for the three day extension to their safari. Her plane for Europe wasn’t due to leave for another 10 days and so she had leisure time to do and go where she pleased.

  Kate was isolated and no one mentioned the disasters that had befallen her nation until Friday dawned and she was checking out.

  Kate had thought of blogging her trip online. She nixed the idea when Merry reminded her that not only did D’Almata have poor satellite reception but the week that Kate would spend on safari in South Africa would be reception free too. Instead, Kate opted to keep a diary. After all, she reasoned, this detour to South Africa was a return to her youth. From about the age of ten until she moved back to the States at 18, Kate had kept a journal.

  But it wasn’t Friday… Tomorrow, Kate would be checking out of the safari camp and so tonight with laughing hyenas making a racket some few feet from her tent covered cabin, she opened the maroon leather notebook.

  Thursday - last night “on safari”

  The weather has held out, although it is cool this evening and we had rain showers last night. Strange to think my friends back in Flag are getting their final days of skiing in before the season closes while I’m enjoying the last days of the South African summer before the rainy season begins!

  We saw the small herd of zebras again today... Poor Amanda. She may never get over seeing the zebras chased by those lions on Monday. I had seen a young animal taken down by a couple of lions before but it was more graphic this time... Of course, our guide Allan Van der Klerk said it was a real “boon” to actually witness the event. It was fascinating although I felt bad for Amanda.

  Tomorrow, I check-out and will be catching a ride down to Durban. I want to surf in warm water! Also, I have a couple of pals to catch up with and my parents’ friends that I really want to see.

  My parents! What an odd couple! They gave up real living and comfortable futures to live on missionaries pay in a foreign - if not ungrateful, nation. My entire youth practically was spent in South Africa with a few stints into Namibia and Botswana. In hindsight, it was a wonderland for me and the sibs - Dale & Merry but what a waste for my parents.

  I was looking forward to spending lots of time with them when they got back to the States but Dad died...

  Sigh, sigh, sigh and I wipe the tears. He spent his life fishing for souls and he dies while fishing for mountain trout.

  God, You wonder why I have faith problems? I was hoping to find the faith of my youth on this short trip but You had better hurry up or extend my trip! I need answers.

  Kate closed the notebook with another sigh.

  “Sorry, Mama about all that stuff going down over there in America,” said the young man behind the counter. Kate was busy swiping her credit card and perplexed that it would not take but she said, “Oh, thanks. Is your machine broken?” she asked him.

  “No, Mama Merriweather. It’s your card,” he said with an agreeable smile.

  “There isn’t anything wrong with my card! Used it in here just the other day,” Kate told him, attempting to swipe again.

  He said, “Yes, Mama. Your card is broken because your country is broken. It is no use. Please, you must pay with cash.”

  Kate’s stomach did a flip-flop. “What do you mean? You said, my country is broken? Tell me what has happened... Tell me!”

  The young man smiled and nodded his way through what he had heard on his mother’s television. The BBC reported first the earthquake and then several hours later, updated the disaster to include a multi-city bombing. “Five cities and also, the earthquake did very much damage,” he finished as she sat on the concrete floor with her damp forehead resting on her backpack which sat between her legs. She thought she was going to throw up. My family? My friends? My God!

  “What cities were attacked... Please, do you know?” she asked him. Kate wasn’t a fainter. This news might put her down though, so she clutched the desk

  “It was Los Angeles and New York. The others, I do not know. St. Louis and Memphis were damaged very bad by the earthquake,” he was smiling nervously. Her friend Amanda was living in New York City.

  Kate pulled out her cell phone.

  The young man said, “Huh, there is no reception out here.”

  “Oh, of course,” remembered Kate.

  The truth was, there was little reception anywhere on the planet at the moment. It would be another six hours before South Africa and most of Europe was back on line, as well.

  Kate was extremely glad she had paid for the first week, as the manager insisted when Amanda checked out. Now she only owed the three extra days of food and lodging but she was loath to pay cash knowing that her bank card would not be of any use for a while.

  Hitching up her pack, Kate walked to the manager’s ranch house. The household was in front of the television listening to various disaster news broadcasters. Eliza Van der Klerk, the manager’s wife ushered her in and sat her down with the family to watch.

  When Albuquerque was mentioned, Kate moaned audibly. Her zany younger sister, Merry had recently moved to Santa Fe a mere 45 minutes north of Albuquerque against Kate’s adamant opposition. Of course, Merry was due to leave for D’Almata. Certainly, she had missed the bombing, Kate reassured herself.

  The Van der Klerks, Allan and Eliza were Kate’s age - 29. They were Afrikaners living three hours from everywhere and in South Africa that meant Durban to the south, Johannesburg to the north and to the east, Maputo, Mozambique.

  Although, Eliza was dark headed with French ancestry, Allan’s family hailed from Holland and he was tow-headed as were their three boys.

  Daily, Kate called about her flight status to Budapest via Amsterdam. She had booked her flights from Phoenix on an American carrier. Finally, she understood that there would be no flight and there would be no substitute airlines filling-in for the now defunct American company. There were flights coming and going to Europe but they were now ten times the cost and her American credit card was useless. It didn’t matter. Kate didn’t have $15,000. dollars or the equivalent on hand. The American dollar was erratic. South Africans were not accepting dollars.

  When the Van der Klerks realized there would be no flight to Europe for Kate, they stepped in to assist her in anyway they could. She stayed with them until the South African winter season chased the tourists away. Certainly, their nation was rocked by the US debacle but South Africa had been riding their own roller coaster for decades. The South Africans had learned to be resilient.

  There was always work to be done on the manager’s farm and the safari camp was in full swing through May and so Kate was put to work to pay her bill and her lodgings with the Van der Klerks. Kate found this set-up very South African. True, the nation was known for corruption and violence but Kate
only saw that side from a buffered distance when she was a child. What Kate remembered most was feeling “at home” whether she was in an informal settlement attending a Bible study with her mother or being wined and dined by the Anglo owners of a Cape Town vineyard. Even the thieves, though mostly jaded and violent, could be touchingly tender at times.

  The salvage cart men were the perfect example. They were notorious thieves and swindlers but they knocked off work at 5pm just like any other 9 to fiver. They would join in with the five o’clock rush heading home with all sorts of acquisitions loaded in back of their pony carts.

  Years before in Cape Town when her brother Dale was a ten year old boy riding his bike home from school, an opportunist took advantage of the situation. As young Dale slowed for a stop sign, he was knocked from his bike. The perpetrator took off up the street only to be assailed by two men driving their horse cart. They jumped him throwing the bike atop the heap in their wagon. When they came abreast of Dale, who sat crying and bloodied on the curb, the older bigger man of the two jumped down as they rolled through the intersection. He scooped Dale up and sat him on the front seat next to his own little son.

  The men asked Dale where he lived and a few minutes later, he climbed down at the gate of his house.

  They kept the bike.

  Kate had traveled abroad a lot and she followed the same routine each time. Exchanging an abundance of traveling cash into the local currency but also, into the currencies where she planned to travel to or through. Kate was a spender. She was single and owning three homes, she also had made lots of money. Kate was generous but spent as she went. Preferring quality over quantity, Kate knew what she liked and growing up on the mission field, she knew how to be frugal, as well.

  In Flagstaff, Arizona she had a flourishing medical supply company. Kate concerned, gave much thought to how her workers were faring through the upheaval happening in Phoenix, Los Angeles and elsewhere in the USA. She had a great manager and reliable workers but she wondered what was happening at the warehouse. Even if business was booming... Kate couldn’t get to her money now.