Spirals

by Scott Bergin

  "Don't worry about it." Alex said. "It will turn out fine."

  "Are you sure?" Gabrielle questioned hesitantly.

  "You are the second best photographer that I know." Alex said with a grin. Gabrielle thought for a second, then smiled. If there was one thing Alex didn't need, it was to think more highly of himself. She decided not to even bother stroking his ego by asking him who the first one was. She knew he was just waiting for that.

  "Thanks." She finally said. Then she leaned forward and gave him a hug. Alex wondered if he wasn't wasting his talents. With the ability to predict like this, he should have his own psychic hotline.

  "Now what do you say we go out and get some evening shots?" Alex asked when the hug was completed.

  "Why Alex, are you askin' me to share a sunset with you?" She asked in an attempt to mock a southern belle accent, while placing her hands on her hips.

  Alex quickly stood up off the bed and ran his fingers through his hair.

  "Well, golly miss chambers I just don't know." He replied in his best hillbilly accent. "I guess I am." Then he set one foot backward and put out his hand.

  "I most graciously accept." Gabrielle replied, continuing the charade. She took his hand and stood up off the bed.

  "I feel a spell comin' on." She said, continuing the accent. Then she quickly fanned her hand in front of her face.

  "What, Uh, What should I do, miss Chambers." Alex said in his best frantic hillbilly imitation. Gabrielle raised her arm and placed the back of the hand on her forehead. Then she flopped backward onto the bed. As she hit the mattress, Gabrielle and Alex both began to laugh.

  "Come on." Alex finally said as he pulled her up off the bed by her limp arms.

  An hour and a half later they were sharing that sunset. They had taken a jeep out into the grassy plains, onto a hilltop that overlooked a far off watering hole. This was no secret spot. A local man had told them about it. Many tourists who frequented the park had probably been there before, but today there was no one besides the two of them. They had already set up their cameras, and focused them on the animals at the watering hole that lay far off in the distance. Now they were just waiting for the time to pass. They were sitting in the grass waiting for the rich red sun to light up these grassy plains and reflect its image in the water as the animals leaned forward to drink.

  "What finally made you give in?" Gabrielle asked, breaking the silence.

  "Which time?" Alex asked as he turned toward her.

  "What finally made you decide to let me come on this trip?" She asked.

  "I had to stop your incessant begging," he said playfully. "What else could I do."

  "No I mean what really made you choose me?" She asked without a shred of humor in her voice.

  "I knew you could do it." Alex answered. "It is just that simple. I trust you, and your skills, more than anyone else I know."

  "All this respect," she said, "and after only three years." For three years they had known each other, and worked together. Gabrielle worked under him the entire time, and now she was sure that he was actually proud of her talents.

  "I don't know if I would have wanted to take this trip with anyone else." Alex said.

  "And I know that I wouldn't have enjoyed it so much."

  "Wow." Gabrielle said softly.

  "What?" Alex asked.

  "That just really means a lot to me," She paused. "Especially coming from you."

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sounds of an elephant at the watering hole. It flapped its ears, then began to pick water up in its trunk and spray it into the air. The sun was further down now, and the elephant's trumpeting was their cue that it was time to get back to work. They each picked up a camera and starred at the watering hole and the dozen animals that had gathered around it, then they began to photograph them. They worked until the sun had vanished below the meadows, and the dark red covering it left behind slowly started to turn black.

  Chapter 5

  April 6

  11:20 p.m.

  Outside Bénoué Park, Cameroon

  Thomas LaRue's jeep slowly rounded a corner on the abandoned dirt road. The high beams cast their light on an old wooden sign that read: Bénoué Park 10km. He was safe now, he thought. It was late and he had been driving for more than a day, but he had made it. Thomas stopped the jeep when he came to the sign. He realized something that he had never considered, not it all his planning. The hotel at Bénoué Park would not be open by the time he got there. Even if it was, checking in at that hour would be very suspicious. The last thing he wanted to do was to attract unnecessary attention to himself. Thomas realized that he would not be able to check in until the following morning, which left him the entire night to kill. He couldn't stay awake the whole time. Not unless he was to drive around all night in order to keep himself busy. A quick glance at the fuel gauge ended that idea. The tank was only a quarter full, and all the cans of extra fuel were empty. There was enough to make it to Bénoué Park, but not enough to drive around all night first. He would simply have to take his chances in the wilderness.

  With a hard turn of the wheels, the jeep was off in a totally new direction. Thomas decided to find a comfortable place to spend the evening. As he drove through the dark endless countryside he realized that he had no idea what he was looking for. He had no idea what type of place would be safer than others, and he couldn't afford the gas to go searching for the perfect place. He would simply have to take his best guess. If he were wrong, then he would have to move to a safer one later. Thomas turned the wheel to the right and the jeep maneuvered its way across the grass, up ahead Thomas could see a larger lone tree. He pulled the jeep up under the tree's outer limbs. The tree would not protect him from animals. It would, however, protect him from anyone who would otherwise be curious about an abandoned jeep in the middle of the African wilderness. Thomas shut the engine off, and looked around. This was a safe enough spot to suit him. He curled up in the front seats with the jeep in gear. This provided him with enough room to lay across the seats without ramming his head into the door. Though he was sure that the position would put his legs asleep in no time at all.

  An hour later the only parts of Thomas that were asleep were his legs. Fear of the unknown was keeping him wide awake. He had never imagined that there would be so many sounds. The night before, the sounds had been muffled by the roar of the engine. Tonight there was nothing to take his mind off the noises. The most frightening fact was that he had no idea of what the sounds were, or how far away they were. The near full moon provided excellent visibility, but not once he lay down. Several times he thought that he had heard something rustling in the bushes beside the jeep. When he sat up an investigated, there was no sign of any animals. When he looked out across the fields, he could see animals moving through the long grass and along the horizon. He had no idea if they were lions, hyenas, or even something he'd never heard of. Each time he lay back down he wondered if they would dare approach the jeep. Would they attack the jeep? His worst fear was that they would attack the jeep while he slept. He pictured himself not waking up until he felt teeth fighting to pull one of his legs off at the knee. He was sure that if he were to fall asleep his legs would straighten out and extend past the safety of the jeep. Thomas tried to relax and forget the strange noises. The more he tried, the more he thought about them. The growls sounded distant, but they could just be quiet and close. The wind shook the leaves of the tree right above the jeep, and it sent chills through Thomas' spine. He tried to focus on the tree, to see if there were any animals in it. There must be some kind of animal that would hunt from a tree. Then the idea struck him, snakes. Were snakes nocturnal? Thomas didn't have the answer, though he was sure that some deadly snakes might be nocturnal. Even if they weren't, they may hunt in the early morning light, before it became too hot. Thomas decided that the longer he worried about what he couldn't explain, the more tired he would become. The more tired he was, the more likely he was to believe in his own d
eranged ideas. The only way to solve this was to rely on what he knew about the wilderness.

  Destruction, that was all he really knew anything about. The closest he had ever been to the wilderness was in Florida, not in the Everglades, in the zoo. The entire time he was growing up he lived in Miami, and he had never traveled near the swamps. The only time he had seen wild animals was at the zoo. When he was a kid the animals looked scary enough, but they were not truly wild animals. Looking back now he understood how tame they really were. They didn't have to hunt for food every night. They were thrown their food without any effort at all. Out here was the true meaning of wild animals. Thomas tried to think back to the last time he had even been to a zoo. It had been when they forced kids to go in elementary school, and that was a hell of a long time ago. Since then he had no interest in animals whatsoever, now he wished he had. He thought for sure he must have been to a zoo since then, but he could not recall anything.

  When he was old enough, he had joined a local demolition company. In fact, that was about all he could recall being interested in at all. He used to love to watch the buildings come crashing down. The planning and purpose behind the destruction did not interest him that much, at first. Then, as he became more involved in the business, he became more interested in these aspects as well. He eventually worked his way up through the company, becoming an expert on the entire demolition process. By the time the company went international, he was their head supervisor. All the planning was merely a means to an end. A very important end, the devastation. To Thomas, this was the true payoff for his labor. The work to achieve the destruction was immense. All the knocking out of walls and windows, the weakening of the central structure, the removal of the nonessentials like elevators, the setting and type of charges, and all the calculations associated with each aspect. They were all worth it when the button was finally pushed. The only part of the destruction that Thomas hated was the predictability. They would always plan for the buildings to fall in on themselves, and they most often would. This bored Thomas terribly. In the old days, when he was just starting out in the business, the destruction was closer to random. Buildings would sometimes fall to the side or, in rare cases, not fall at all. That made the business exciting. That is what kept him interested in the profession. Once the company had amassed enough information, they made very few mistakes. The company had an extremely low rate of injured workers, and none had been killed in more than ten years. This was all a reflection of Thomas' leadership abilities. The truth of the matter was that it troubled Thomas dreadfully. Once he was in charge he could no longer hope that something would go wrong, since he would have to accept the blame. The result was that he became trapped in a job that was becoming tiresome. He even wondered if his lack of interest was based in something deeper. He thought that he might have lost interest in the company when he began to understand the process behind the final product. The act of discovery was exciting at first, but his interest had vanished along with the mystery of it all. The more he learned, the less he became interested in. While he was thinking of a way out of his occupation, the offer came to liven it back up. The company was expanding into Italy, into unmarked territory. This was the opportunity he was looking for, or so he thought. Once the projects were under way, he realized that the result was the same. It took a little more work to complete the jobs in Italy. Part of this was due to the different building structures, and part due to the language barrier. When it was all over the result was the same, predicted and uninteresting. Two years of jobs in Italy had led him nowhere, and slowly. That is when he met a man who promised to change his life for the better. A man named Hector Bishop came to him out of the blue with a plan to make them both rich, and in the process grant Thomas the kind of excitement he had wanted. Hector Bishop was the entire reason he was out here in the wilds of Africa. He was also the reason Thomas LaRue was no longer known as Paul Sanchez, and why he could never return to his home in Miami again.

  There was a thump against the side of the jeep, and Thomas was up in a heartbeat. He looked out one side of the jeep and then the other. He could see nothing. The interruption to his thoughts was a blessing. If he were going to get any sleep tonight, it wouldn't be by thinking about someone like Hector Bishop. Thomas reached into the glove box and removed his Bowie knife. He had placed it there during the journey, when the poking in his back had become too uncomfortable. Now seemed like the perfect time to take it back out again. Whatever was going to eat him was not going to get a free meal. Thomas was determined to put up a fight.

  Thomas relaxed when he saw that the figures he had seen in the open grass were no longer around. They had not attacked, and they had not come closer. The only thing he knew about them was that they were big, and if they were around the jeep now he would know it. He slumped back down in the seats, and fashioned his legs as he had before. His knees were bent and leaned against the back of the driver's seat. His back lay flat across the gap between seats, and his head and shoulders on the passenger's seat. He held his knife in one hand and crossed his arms, concealing the blade. The wind blew through the tree again, shaking the branches and moving leaves around. This time it did not bother Thomas so much. The added protection of the knife was part of the reason, exhaustion was the other. Thomas had become so exhausted that no worry could keep him awake any longer. He could not be kept up by thoughts of lions, or hyenas, or cheetahs, or any other wretched beast, including Hector Bishop. He closed his eyes and rolled his head to the side. He proceeded to sleep undisturbed for many hours, still clutching his Bowie knife firmly in his hand.

  Chapter 6

  April 7

  12:10 p.m.

  Outside Bénoué Park, Cameroon

  The movement in the tree high above the jeep did not affect Thomas LaRue's slumber, until a small branch fell from the tree and landed on his head. He awoke in an instant, and felt for the knife that was no longer there. With a quick swipe of his hand the branch was thrown clear of the jeep. Thomas looked up, and saw a huge beast gnawing on the tree. Thomas was certainly not a zoologist, but he knew there were far worse creatures to awaken him than a giraffe. The giraffe stood only a few feet away from the jeep. Its huge neck stretched over the jeep, and its head played in the branches far overhead. The giraffe tensed its entire body and gave a tug at one of the branches. The branch broke free and the whole tree shook as a result. Thomas decided that he didn't need the knife, which he could now see lying on the floor in front of the passenger's seat. What good would a knife do against an animal that size? All he could probably do would be to upset it. After starring at the large creature in total awe for several minutes, Thomas decided that he had to get back to business. He picked up the Bowie knife and returned it to the glove box. Then he climbed into the driver's seat. He reached into the back and pulled out a small bag of clothes and changed into a clean outfit. There was no reason to let anyone in Bénoué Park know that he had spent several days in the jungle. As he slid the key into the ignition he wondered exactly how violent a giraffe could become. The engine started with a grind and a dull hum, but it was enough to get the giraffe's attention. The giraffe pulled his head free from the tree and looked curiously down at the jeep. Thomas put the gas to the floor, and the whine of the engine sent the startled animal running off. Then Thomas turned the jeep back the way he had come the night before and headed for Bénoué Park.

  The familiar wooden sign by the side of the road assured him that he had gone the right way. Thomas had an excellent sense of direction, but in the dark and exhausted anyone can get lost. Minutes later he could see the entrance to the park. He couldn't wait to check in. The rest he had gotten in the jungle had not been all that grand. The gap between the seats had given him a sore back that felt more like a pinched nerve. The circulation being cut off from his lower legs wasn't pleasant either. All he wanted to do was check in and get some rest.

  Thomas started removing some of his bags after parking his jeep in the small lot. He didn't get more tha
n three steps from the jeep before two men were at his side asking if they could help. The locals around here were very eager to help in any way they could. They would provide labor or information, and in return asked for only a small tip. All of his luggage was stamped with indications of how fragile and sensitive the equipment inside was. It didn't seem to matter to the locals. One man was carrying three pieces that weighed about thirty pounds each. They managed to get all of his luggage into the hotel without damaging any of it. Then they simply waited for Thomas to check in. Thomas walked up to the counter and set the only bag he was carrying on the floor.

  "I'd like to check in." Thomas said to the man sitting comfortably behind the counter reading a book.

  "And what is your name sir?" The man asked as he stood up and placed the book on the counter.

  "Thomas LaRue." He replied. He couldn't help but notice how short the man behind the counter was. His head was barely above the counter, and that was no more than three and a half feet. Thomas was more than willing to bet that this was the shortest native around. Then Thomas noticed that all of the keys and mail were hung low on the wall. There could be no doubt that this was the manager. Thomas noticed that the book the man had been reading when he came in was in French. He knew that many people around here could speak English or French, but he didn't realize they could read both as well.

  "Ah yes, here we are Mr. LaRue." The man finally said. "I'll put you in room six." Then the man turned and grabbed a key off the wall.

  "What is all this?" The man asked, motioning to the luggage.

  "Equipment, photographic equipment." Thomas replied.