Spirals

by Scott Bergin

"They got to you to?" Thomas asked.

  Alex just nodded and grumbled.

  "You know that they have no locks here?" Thomas asked.

  "Don't worry, we're used to that." Alex said, looking over at Gabrielle. She was blushing.

  "So what do you know about the Disaster?" Gabrielle asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

  "Not much." Thomas said. "Just what comes on the news."

  "They have television here?" Alex asked.

  "No." Thomas said abruptly. "I was talking about what I pick up on my computer."

  "How close is the cloud going to come from here?" Gabrielle asked.

  "Oh, it shouldn't come within fifty miles." Thomas assured them. "But if it does, we'll be the first to know."

  "Waiter." Thomas shouted. "Bring everyone some lemonade." The waiter slowly got up and turned toward the building, then wandered inside.

  "What do you think the reason is behind it?" Gabrielle asked.

  "Who knows why people do the things they do nowadays, could be a thousand reasons?" Thomas replied.

  "So you think a person is responsible for all that destruction?" Gabrielle asked, still surprised by his last response.

  "What are you talking about?" Thomas asked.

  "I thought we were talking about the lake up north." She replied. "You think a person did whatever caused that destruction."

  "Hell lady," Thomas said. "I thought you were asking me if I knew why that waiter was moving so damn slow."

  "No." Gabrielle said. "I was asking you about the lake."

  "I have no idea what caused that." Thomas said. He was beginning to get upset with all of her questioning. "I surely hope you don't question the locals like this." He continued. "I'd hate to see how your story turns out if you do."

  "Gabrielle," Alex interrupted. "Stop badgering the man."

  "Well, thank you." Thomas said. "Now isn't there something else we can talk about here?"

  The waiter walked casually over to their table and delivered three glasses of lemonade. Gabrielle quickly took a sip. Alex took a sip and started to think about relaxing in a comfortable bed. Then he remembered how lousy the last beds had been, or at least how lousy his had been.

  "You got no questions over there?" Thomas asked, then took a sip of lemonade.

  "Yeah," Alex said. "Is yours saggy or firm? Because I don't like them unless they're firm." Both Thomas and Gabrielle spit out a mouthful of lemonade, then looked over at Alex in astonishment.

  "You aren't a homo are you?" Thomas asked.

  "Oh my god!" Alex said. "I'm sorry. I was thinking about your bed."

  "Christ!" Thomas said. "You are a homo."

  "No!" Alex insisted. "I just wanted to know if the mattresses here were saggy or not. I can't sleep well on saggy mattresses. The last place we stayed at was horrible, they sagged all the way to the floor." Alex looked over and saw how relieved Thomas was. He also saw that Gabrielle was chuckling at him.

  "You've got nothing to worry about." Thomas assured him. "The floors here are softer than the beds."

  "Well," Alex said. "I guess I could use a little nap, so that's where I'm headed."

  "That's where we're headed." Gabrielle quickly said. Then both stood up from the table.

  "Maybe after your little nap we could take some photos together." Thomas offered. "I've gotten to know the area pretty well around here." Thomas lied.

  "Sure." Alex said. Then he started away from the table. "What day did you fly in here?"

  "I didn't fly." Thomas admitted. "I can't fly."

  "You can't fly?" Gabrielle asked.

  "Well," Thomas said. "I am deathly afraid of flying."

  "Then how did you get here from America?" Alex asked.

  "By ship." Thomas replied.

  "That must have taken a hell of a long time." Gabrielle said.

  "No longer than driving around half the continent of Africa." Thomas replied.

  "Well, we know how that feels." Gabrielle said.

  "We'll see you in a couple of hours." Alex said as he turned away.

  "No need to hurry." Thomas said as they disappeared into the back of the building. As the door shut behind them, Thomas turned back toward the wide open plains. He took another sip of his lemonade and began to think about what lay in the days ahead. He continued to stare out at the plains, lost in the same thoughts as before he had been unexpectedly interrupted.

  Chapter 12

  April 10

  2:00 p.m.

  Paris, France

  Robert Mason flopped back into his leather chair. His jaw was hanging open, and he was staring at the television. The news seemed to reflect its image off every surface in his living room, the glass in the windows, the shade of the floor lamp, even the couch right next to him. The news didn't need to be amplified off anything to be drastic, it was bad enough already.

  "At least twenty-five thousand people have already died in the flooding." The woman reporter announced. "And no one knows how many have died from the toxic cloud that is now threatening Yaoundé. Right now efforts are being made to evacuate the city, but this is simply a catastrophe that the government seems unable to handle." Robert leaned in toward the television and began frantically running his fingers through his thick brown hair. He stared closer and closer at the images of the flooding. Then, in an instant, the screen went dead. All he was left staring at was the reflection of his own stern face, and his own rich blue eyes staring back at him.

  "Are you ready to go?" A voice came from his right. Robert looked over and to no surprise saw his wife, Dana Mason. What did surprise him was that she was still holding the remote control, aimed at the television.

  "Are you insane?" Robert demanded.

  "A little tipsy." Dana replied, swirling the glass of red wine around in her other hand. "But I wouldn't call it insane." Dana swayed to one side, then took a step to catch her balance. She had had too much to drink, but she could still catch her balance in high heels. What made it even more of a feat was the dress she was wearing, a remarkably tight white dress that extend below her knees. It was pointless for her to wear it though, Robert didn't even notice. He probably wouldn't have noticed if she were naked, or dressed in an elephant suit either. Their spark had faded over the years, and now it was completely gone. Like two strangers living together, toleration was what held them together, not love. An occasional binge of drinking was one way for Dana to cope, though not her only way.

  "Dana, give me the remote." Robert demanded, standing up from his chair.

  "You've seen enough for one day." She replied, throwing the remote behind the sofa.

  "Fine." Robert said, pulling his cellular phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. He dialed a long series of numbers, then just let it ring continuously.

  "Are you going to be on that long, our reservations are for four?" Dana asked.

  Robert closed the phone and put it back into his jacket. From down the hall a fifteen year old girl emerged in a flower dress. She stopped within five feet of them and twirled around. The dress lifted effortlessly off her legs, revealing her sneakers and rolled down white socks.

  "Well, how do I look?" She asked, as she stopped twirling.

  "You look wonderful Christine." Dana replied. Robert simply ignored her.

  "I can't go with you two, something has come up." Robert said, still staring at Dana.

  "Was that what your little phone call was supposed to be about?" Dana asked.

  "Yes. I have to fly to Africa, as soon as possible." He replied.

  "That's bullshit!" Dana screamed. The tight little wad her hair had been in let loose as she flung her head around. "It's our god damn anniversary!" She yelled, making herself look even more tattered.

  Christine turned and ran back down the hall and into her room. She knew what was going to begin, and she didn't want to hear it. Quickly, Christine put on her headset and turned on some music to drown out the voices from down the hall.

  "Now look what you've done,"
Dana began. "You've scared your own daughter out of the room."

  "What I've done." Robert protested. "Sure, just blame me for everything."

  Dana held up her glass of red wine and dumped it down the neck of her dress. Almost instantly the wine cascaded down her small chest and began to bleed through the dress. In seconds the dress was stained from her bosom to her tiny waist.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Robert demanded.

  "You're not the only one who can ruin things around here!" Dana said with a laugh.

  "Great, another excuse for you to go trotting off to jolly old London on another outrageous shopping spree." Robert said, walking past her and down the hall.

  "So what if it is?" She asked, following him down the hall and into the bedroom. "What do you care anyway?"

  "You're right Dana, I don't give a shit what you do when I'm away." He continued. "But the least you could do would be to take that little brat, that you call your daughter, with you."

  "She's our daughter!" Dana hollered. "And you might try taking some responsibility for her someday."

  Robert reached into the closet and pulled a small suitcase out, and set it on the bed.

  "Pack my things, I don't have time to waste." He ordered, pointing at the open suitcase.

  "I'd rather suck the puss from a dried pimple on a dead rat's ass!" Dana screamed. Then she threw the empty wine glass at his head. Robert ducked, and the glass shattered on the wall above the headboard.

  "Fine!" Robert shouted. Then he grabbed handfuls of clothes from the closet and bureau, and stuffed them into the suitcase. He folded the suitcase closed, but did not even attempt to zip it. Sleeves and pant legs were hanging out all sides of it. He paid no attention to them, but simply tucked the whole thing under his arm.

  "Well, you might consider where all these lovely clothes come from." He said calmly, staring at her stained dress as he walked by.

  "Yeah, I'll consider those dead rhinos next time I'm shopping." She said coldly as he walked down the hall.

  "You do that." Robert said, as he walked across the living room.

  "You know, I don't need all this." Dana said, pointing around at the whole lavishness of the apartment, though at nothing in particular. "I don't need all this fancy stuff." She continued. "And I certainly don't need these fancy clothes. I could do just fine without all of them."

  "No you couldn't." Robert said. "You think you can live without any of this, but you don't even have a clue what that would be like. You're hooked on the good life and you don't even know it."

  "I am not." She protested. "And I suppose you think you know what it's like to live in poverty." She added.

  "No, I don't know what it's like." He admitted. "And I'm willing to do just about anything to avoid finding it out."

  "I know, killing, smuggling, anything that suits you." She mumbled.

  "Watch your tongue!" He warned, pointing an angry finger at her. Robert made another few steps toward the front door, then turned back to face her.

  "Do you know what I can live without?" He asked.

  "No. What?" She replied.

  "You." He said coldly. "Just remember that. I can live without you, but you can't even survive without me."

  "Is that supposed to be a threat?" She asked.

  "No." He said flatly. "I'm not saying I want to live without you, only that I can if I choose to."

  "It still sounds like a threat to me." Dana said, staring into his deep blue eyes.

  "It's not a threat." He assured her. "But this is. One way or the other I will not live with all your drunken escapades."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, trying to hold her composure.

  "I'm perfectly capable of finding someplace where I am appreciated." He said, as he finally walked out the door.

  "Good luck." She said under her breath, unsure if he had heard it or not.

  Robert slammed the door shut, and Dana knew that he had heard her. She fell to her knees on the shag carpeting. With her cupped hands held to her face she started to cry. She knew that she had let the alcohol do most of the talking for her, and she wondered if she had said too much. She really didn't have the means to survive on her own, not yet anyway. She would be even less able to care for herself if she had to take care of Christine as well. Dana knew that if it ever came down to a separation, she would be responsible for Christine's well being.

  Christine slid her headsets off and pressed the power button on her stereo before going toward her bedroom door. The loud smash had signaled the end of the fight. She slowly popped her head out the doorway, and saw her mother on her knees in the living room. As Christine slowly walked closer, she could hear her mother's faint sobbing. When Christine was near enough, she laid her hand gently on Dana's back. Dana flinched at the touch, then lifted her head from her hands. She stopped crying, and turned her head toward Christine. Tears and makeup had run down her face and into her hands. Dana tried to wipe her face, but she only smeared it even worse.

  "It won't be like this forever." Dana said, with traces of crying still in her voice.

  "I know." Christine said. Then she knelt down beside her on the carpet.

  "He didn't hit you did he?" Christine asked cautiously.

  "No." Dana replied, wiping a few fresh tears from her eyes.

  "I just hope it gets better before it gets any worse." Christine said. Her voice started to sound weary.

  "It will honey." Dana said. "I promise it will."

  Christine leaned forward on her knees and embraced her mother, not only to comfort Dana, but to hide the fact that she was starting to cry as well.

  "I hate how he treats you." Christine said softly, as tears streaked down her cheeks and landed on her mother's bare back.

  "Don't worry." Dana said, trying to assure her. "We'll get through this, together."

  Christine squeezed her even tighter than before. Then she let go, and sat back on her feet. She was no longer crying. She had faith in her mother, and believed her when she had said that they would get through it together.

  Chapter 13

  April 10

  6:05 p.m.

  Bénoué Park, Cameroon

  Gabrielle stood at Alex's feet, as he continued to sleep on the floor. She began to tap the sole of his bare foot with the toe of her sneaker.

  "C'mon Alex." Gabrielle said, after realizing that her tapping was not enough. Alex slowly opened his eyes.

  "What is it?" He groaned.

  "Don't move." Gabrielle whispered in a panic stricken voice. Alex's eyes widened in an instant. He began to look around without moving his head.

  "What is it?" He whispered back.

  "There are three poisonous spiders right next to you." She replied.

  "Which side?" Alex asked.

  "On your left." Gabrielle answered, then backed away. That was somewhat of a relief. The bed was on his right. So, if he were lucky, he could probably get onto the bed without getting any closer to them. He knew they must be close, almost right up against him. They must be small too. Otherwise, he could see them without lifting his head.

  "What kind are they?" He softly asked.

  "I don't know." Gabrielle replied.

  "Well, what do they look like?" Alex persisted.

  "They're black with a little red hourglass on their bellies." She told him.

  "Black widows." He whispered in horror. Gabrielle gasped, and backed up even further. Alex slowly put more of his weight onto his hands. Then he quickly threw himself up onto the bed. He stood up at once and began to jump around trying to shake off any spider that might have clung to him. There were none. He looked down at the floor, and still saw no spiders. When he looked over at Gabrielle, he saw her hand covering her mouth. She was desperately fighting off the laughter, but she was losing.

  "No spiders?" Alex asked. Gabrielle made no attempt to answer, aside from shaking her head.

  "You think that's pretty funny?" Alex asked. Again Gabrielle just shook her head, but the laught
er that was sneaking out prevented Alex from believing her.

  "No?" Alex asked, surprised by her response.

  "No." She finally said, trying to maintain her composure. "I think it's god damn hilarious." With that she flopped onto the bed where Alex was still standing and screamed with laughter into the mattress.

  "Apparently you do." Alex said, chuckling. Though he was unsure if he was laughing at her trick, or her uncontrollable snorting. Gabrielle picked her head off the mattress only long enough to mumble something about the look on Alex's face, then she was back to the uncontrolled fits again.

  "O.K., O.K." Alex said. "Take it easy, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep that up." Gabrielle tried several times to gain control of herself and lift her head off the mattress. But as soon as she looked at Alex, she went right back to beating her fists into the bed again. Eventually Alex gave up and took a shower, leaving her there on the bed. When he came back out, she had finally stopped.

  "I will get you back for this." Alex said, staring at Gabrielle still sitting on the bed.

  "I know." She replied, then stood off the bed. "Or at least you'll try."

  "I'll admit that this will be a hard one to top, but I'm certainly going to have fun trying." He said.

  "Well come on." Gabrielle said. "Let's go see what Mr. Thomas is up to."

  "You mean Mr. LaRue?" Alex asked.

  "Yes, that's what I said." Gabrielle replied. She quickly grabbed a bag of equipment, and they headed out the door. Alex walked to the next room down as Gabrielle closed the door.

  "Don't forget to lock it." Alex told her.

  "Very funny." She replied after looking at the door for several seconds. "Is that the best you can do?" She asked, walking toward him.

  "For now." Alex said, knocking on Thomas' door.

  "It's open." Came the response from inside.

  "What, everyone is a comedian today." Alex whispered to Gabrielle before opening the door. Thomas was sitting on the floor in front of a large computer system, typing away.

  "Yes?" He asked, looking up at them for only a second.

  "What is all this?" Gabrielle asked, motioning to the computer and satellite dish.