The next morning they all breakfasted together, grabbed their luggage once more and went down to the lobby. Their instructions were to meet the representative from the Samoan research station in the lobby near the east entrance. As they were walking thither Max glanced over his shoulder a couple of times before finally asking Danielle in a whisper, “Why are there two grinning idiots following us?”
“Those are the Henshaws, sweetie. They’re going to the Samoan station also. Katie and I met them on the plane but didn’t introduce them to you because you were napping at the time.”
“Do they know about our little family arrangement?”
“They haven’t asked,” Danielle said. “The topic of relationships never came up. I assume at this point they believe we three are all just friends.”
“What’s with the smiling?” Max inquired next.
“I know…it’s like a thing with them; but they’re really very nice so be on your best behavior, please.”
“Are they retarded? Because I don’t wanna spend my so-called vacation listening to those two recite the alphabet over and over and then telling me how much they like to wet themselves.”
Danielle sighed.
“They happen to be very successful business owners from West Virginia,” she told him.
“And they’re not retards?”
“No.”
“But you said they were from West Virginia.”
“They are.”
“You understand my confusion?”
Another sigh from Danielle.
“Max, not everyone who grew up outside the five boroughs of New York City is a retard.”
“I never said that. But you gotta admit that the percentage of retards outside the five boroughs of New York City increases in proportion to how much closer you get to West Virginia.”
“Max, they’re not retards,” Danielle hissed. “I don’t think you’re even supposed to use the word retard anymore. Now drop it!”
“I’m not sure I wanna get on a small plane with them,” Max continued. “All that smiling of theirs…it’s creepy. They may be up to something.”
“Oh, now they’re terrorists?” Danielle asked. “God, I can’t help but feel sorry for you sometimes.”
There was no one awaiting the five tourists at the designated rendezvous spot; while they all waited Earl Henshaw approached Max with a pudgy hand extended.
“Hi there! Earl Henshaw, Henshaw’s Christian Books and Supplies,” he said, pumping Max’s hand energetically.
“Max Bland; I’m traveling with Danielle and Katie.”
“Fine ladies,” Earl said.
“Depending on the phase of the moon,” Max replied.
Max was content to let the conversation end there, but then Earl asked:
“And how do you earn a buck, Max?”
“Me? I’m an astronaut.”
Danielle, standing nearby with Katie, shot the novelist an enraged look.
Earl’s eyes widened and he asked, “No kidding?”
“No kidding,” Max assured him. “I just got back from the moon two weeks ago.”
“Well, how about that?” exclaimed Earl. “Wow! So...so what do I call you? I mean, what’s your rank? Captain Bland? Commander Bland?”
“It’s Darth, actually,” Max answered. “That’s the rank given to us astronauts who have set foot on the moon.”
“Will you excuse us, please?” Danielle suddenly interjected, pulling Max away from Earl. When they were out of earshot she said, “An astronaut?”
“What the hell else was I supposed to tell him?”
“Why couldn’t you tell him who you really are?”
“This is more fun, and it proves my point about people from West Virginia.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Danielle said. “Fucking unbelievable. Is there a medical term for how wacko you are?”
“Oh, leave him be,” Katie instructed her wife. “If this will keep him happy then I don’t care what he tells people.” She checked her watch. “God, where is this guy?” she said mostly to herself. “Or are we supposed to find our own way to Antarctica?”
But just at that moment the glass double doors of the hotel’s east entrance opened and what could only be described as a giant walked in. He was an enormous wall of a man practically as wide as he was tall. He had exotic Polynesian features and his skin tone was just a shade darker than Max’s.
“Greetings!” the fellow said upon encountering the trio, and his voice matched his build; it boomed and filled all the empty air around them. “Is this the group waiting to be taken to the Samoan station?”
“Uh, yes we are,” Katie answered as the de facto leader of their little bunch. She had to tilt up head all the way back just to look up at the Samoan.
The newcomer laughed. “Lelei! Good! Well then, I repeat, greetings; or as we say in Samoa malo e leilei.” He gave a hearty chortle. Danielle and Katie were instantly taken with him and the strength of his good-naturedness; he was like a great big teddy bear. Max, however, was wondering how the hell an airplane with this joker on board was ever going to get off the ground.
“My name is Konishiki but you may call me Koni. I will be escorting you to our facility on Ross Island.”
***
Koni drove his charges to a hangar at a small airfield. Inside the hangar was a De Havilland Twin Otter aircraft with the mostly red Samoan flag painted on its fuselage. Another Samoan, a smaller man of about forty was busily doing what appeared to be a pre-flight inspection. Currently he was examining the retractable ski attached to the forward landing gear and, apparently finding everything in order checked the item off the list on his clipboard. He looked up when his ears detected the new arrivals.
“This is Tuli, our pilot,” Koni said, indicating the man with the clipboard, his booming voice echoing in the airy hangar. Tuli turned from the Otter, bowed to his passengers and said with a smile, “Maliu mai. Welcome.” Then to Koni he said, “We’ll be ready to take off as soon as they are changed, Koni.”
“Thank you,” Koni replied to his friend. He then addressed the tourists. “Legally, all persons traveling to the Antarctic continent must be properly attired against the elements. So, before we board the va’alele, the airplane, I ask that you change into the arctic weather gear we have provided for you. Ladies, you will find parcels awaiting you in this locker room here.” He indicated a door to his right. “And gentlemen, your parcels await you in there.” And he pointed to the next door down.
The men were the first to be ready, changing into the requisite attire in no more than ten minutes and then returning to the hangar proper to wait on the women who finally reappeared some twenty minutes later.
Tuli proved a capable pilot though the temperamental skies over the Southern Ocean between New Zealand and Ross Island made the going a bit rough. On the plane Max was seated between Danielle and Katie and once the turbulence began each had taken hold of one of his hands, squeezing it tightly with every lurch, shimmy, shake, bump and heave the Twin Otter made during its eight hour sojourn. Koni, who was apparently used to these rough skies, tried his best to divert his guests’ attention from the worrisome flight by giving a brief overview of mankind’s presence in Antarctica, from Scott to Ernest Shackleton to the continent’s use as a whaling way station many years ago. He also told them stories of his childhood on Samoa as well as some of the Samoan legends he had heard as a kid. Quite frankly, however, he may as well have kept quiet: the Henshaws were too busy praying; Danielle and Katie were doing Lamaze-like breathing and Max, his poor hands suffering the vise-like grips of Danielle and Katie, was wondering if he’d ever be able to type 85 words per minute again.
***
Finally Tuli announced they were descending and would land in fifteen minutes. When the Twin Otter skied to a landing on an airstrip of packed snow Max shook his aching hands free from the grips of his wife and Katie. He had to flex his fingers for several moments to get them working properly again.
&n
bsp; Because they were safely back on terra firma Katie at last felt courageous enough to look out the plane’s window, something she had refused to do during the carnival ride of a flight. Now she took a peek through the glass as the plane taxied and instantly felt her eyes begin to water. Despite the presence of man as evidenced by several cinder block buildings, lampposts, thick power cables and various pieces of equipment covered with tarpaulins the scene was still inspiringly virginal because beyond this tiny settlement were dunes of blue-white snow and ice with outcroppings of dark rock poking out here and there all under the clearest sky she’d ever seen. It was like being on another planet, one so unlike Earth, one that still had promise.
“Oh my God, you guys,” she whispered, “this is so beautiful!”
“It truly is, is it not?” Koni said. “I consider myself very lucky to work here and now I can officially welcome you all to our friendly Samoan research station, one of the newest and most technologically advanced climatology, volcanology and biology research stations in the world. We are at the base of Mt. Erebus and are within walking distance of one of the largest breeding sites of Weddell seals on the continent.”
Max whispered to Katie, whose face was aglow with the wonder of it all: “We’re at the base of the fucking volcano? You left that tidbit of information out, you know.”
“Oh hush!” his metamour whispered back. “What difference does it make?”
“It makes a difference in how quickly we get vaporized, you twit. What if this volcano decides to go Krakatoa on us, huh? I myself prefer to have a running start on death and destruction.”
Katie responded to this in a surprising way, so happy was she at being here: she turned away from the window and gave Max a quick peck on the lips and laughed.
“Max, for once in your life let go of your stresses and just enjoy being, okay? Enjoy the magic of just being.”
Rolling his eyes Max nudged Danielle.
“Katie’s gone Earth Mother on us already,” he told her.
***
The campus of the Samoan Research Station on Ross Island consisted of six cinder block buildings of varying sizes, including the hangar, huddled together on several acres of Antarctic real estate. The buildings were all connected to each other via tubular passageways meant to allow residents to get from one structure to another without needlessly exposing themselves to the elements.
From the hangar Koni led his guests through one of these tubular passageways whose interior was cheerfully and expertly painted with idyllic tropical scenes of Samoan natives enjoying the pristine beaches of their island home.
“Who did the artwork, Koni?” Danielle inquired. “It’s stunning.”
The Samoan beamed as he turned to answer her.
“My wife, Andrea,” he said. “She’s a volcanologist here and painting is her way of livening up the place. I’m excited for you to meet her.”
They didn’t have to wait long. Entering the next building the eco-tourists were greeted by the remaining station staff, half a dozen in all, two men and four women, all Samoan. Koni’s wife gave herself away by embracing the giant and ordering him to stoop so she could kiss him. She was a stark contrast to her husband, petite and seemingly fragile. Instead of stooping as ordered Koni simply lifted her until her lips were level with his own. It was like watching a grown man pick up a toy. After kissing his beloved he said, “Everybody, our guests are here. Let’s make them feel at home.”
And just like that the small band of eco-tourists found themselves enthusiastically greeted by their hosts all of whom it turned out had the word doctor prefixing their names. Even Koni, it was now learned, possessed a PhD in climatology. Soon Champagne was poured and a toast made by the eldest scientist present, a sixty-ish volcanologist named Mafi who not only welcomed the foreigners formally but thanked them as well for helping support Samoa’s scientific endeavors on this continent, endeavors, he insisted, which would be beneficial to all mankind.
“And Mr. Bland, we are most honored to have you joining us,” Mafi said, raising his plastic cup of Champagne in Max’s direction.
“It’s not every day you get to meet an honest to God astronaut!” Earl added. “I mean, can you imagine…he’s been to the moon!”
Mafi frowned.
“I…beg your pardon, Mr. Henshaw?”
“Nothing,” Max said quickly. “Ignore him. Listen, can I finally ask a question?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Bland; you may ask anything.”
“This is in regards to your penguin control policies. Do you have, like, a fence around this joint or some kind of warning system in place?”
Mafi and his fellow scientists laughed indulgently, hearty Samoan laughter.
“Mr. Bland, are you really afraid of penguins?” Mafi inquired.
“Afraid? No.” Max replied. “Just wary, is all. There’s something in their eyes; that and the way they huddle together, like little hoodlums; it doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Ignore him, Mafi,” Danielle said. “Max won’t be happy until every animal on the planet is safely contained in the Bronx Zoo. He and I once spent a weekend in Shropshire and he swore the cows in the nearby farms were looking at him funny and meant him harm.”
Mafi laughed again before saying, “I assure you, Mr. Bland, the penguins on Ross Island are harmless. In fact, many of them often venture through our grounds on their way to feed and some of the more curious of them even come inside to have a look around should we leave a door open.”
This intelligence, though bringing muttered expletives from Max, brought exclamations of delight from the women.
“Are they here now? Can we go out and see them?” Earl’s wife, Flo, asked eagerly.
“Later, I promise,” Mafi said. “For the time being I’d like to get you all settled in and then provide you with a tour of our facil—”
Just then a rumbling was heard; like the sound of thunder coming from a nearby storm, but this thunder was accompanied by an earthquake. For maybe seven seconds the ground beneath their feet shook, only mildly, akin to what one feels while riding in a bus being driven on a cobbled street. Afterwards, everyone in the room stood in shock but then Mafi said something authoritative in Samoan causing Andrea and another scientist to leave the gathering and rush through a door marked Laboratory. While murmured exclamations came from the others a phone rang which Mafi answered.
“Mafi here. Yes, Dr. Lesser, we felt it, too…Yes…I have sent two of my people to check our readings…Yes…Of course we will…Yes, talk to you soon.” He hung up and muttered something under his breath. Addressing his visitors again he said, “The Americans. They have a seismic station not even a quarter of a mile away. This facility and the land it sits on used to be owned by the American government, in fact, but two years ago Samoa purchased it when the American Congress authorized selling Antarctic parcels to help pay for the war in Iraq.”
“What was that shaking?” Max abruptly asked.
“Yes, the shaking,” Mafi replied. “A most curious phenomenon, I admit; unfortunately I have no explanation. It has never happened before.” He shrugged.
Max forced a laugh.
“No problem,” he said with false indifference. “These things happen.” He looked to his left and then pointed. “The hangar is this way, right?” And he began moving toward the door that would take him back to the airplane.
“Mr. Bland, please,” Mafi said. “I assure you there is no danger.”
“And that makes me feel better, really it does; however, where’s your sense of chivalry, man? When the Earth starts shaking I believe it’s customary to make sure the women and children present are evacuated to safety. As there are no children in attendance the women get bumped up to the top of the list. I suggest we evacuate them to a nice cocktail lounge back in Christchurch.”
“The women do not need to be evacuated to safety, Max. Personally I’m fine. I think the volcano was just welcoming us to her home, is all.” Naturally, this came from Katie whos
e face told Max she was still enjoying being. Well, Max wasn’t about to listen to anything she had to say knowing full well that in her current frame of mind it would take a rescue squad of Navy SEALs to pull her from this frozen Eden. Besides, right next to Katie there was Flo whimpering softly and wringing her hands. (So was Earl for that matter but Max ignored him). He was about to hold Flo up to Mafi as his prime example for getting the hell out of there when suddenly Danielle said:
“I’m fine, too, Max. And I’d like to stay.”
Max searched her face, analyzing every nuance…the look in her eyes, the way her mouth was set; reading her, picking up the vibes of this woman he loved and whom he knew better than anyone else. And what he learned was that those few seconds of tremors had unnerved her, sure, but they hadn’t scared her; certainly not enough for her to go along with any scheme that would cut Katie’s trip short.
He sighed with resignation and cursed mildly under his breath.
Chapter 18
The tremors hadn’t bothered Katie; in fact, they excited her. They were evidence of how unpredictable Antarctica could be and of the stimulating danger of being right next to an active volcano, a danger that, interestingly enough, made her feel more in tune with the natural world. She had felt this same sensation during their last vacation, the African safari which Danielle had planned, sleeping in the Kalahari in tents that were pitched in the same neighborhood as lions and rhinos.
She and Danielle were now in the tiny room Katie was given at the station as her sleeping quarters. All of the Samoan’s five guests were lodged in an octagonal-shaped building on the north side of the complex, the side furthest from Erebus, and connected to the main building by another one of those tubes, this one painted with scenes depicting, according to Koni, the Samoan legend of how the Earth was created.
Two for One-Relatively Speaking (The Two for One series) Page 16