Chapter 27
The sun has completely disappeared now, and there is just a little light left in the sky. It is a beautiful night. The temperature is starting to cool off, and the night air is clean and crisp. Under different circumstances, this would be considered the perfect night. The four of us, sitting around a fire enjoying the warmth, staring at the flames. That could be on a postcard. The night is quiet, very quiet, so I suggest we have a little story telling.
“Hey, Henderson, tell us about some of the cool places you went to when you were in the Armed Forces,” I request.
“Okay, sure! Let me think.” He squints his eyes and slowly rolls them from side to side, obviously thinking very hard. “I don’t want to bore you with all of the places I have been, but I do recall a trip I made to Thailand back in 1989. I was a Captain at the time, and a Navigator on a KC-135.”
“What’s a KC-135?” Dane asks suddenly.
“It’s a big four engine jet aircraft that is used to refuel other aircraft while airborne. People call it the gas station in the sky. In the back of the airplane is a boom, which is used to transfer the fuel from one aircraft to another. The boom operator gently lowers the boom and inserts the end into a receptacle located on the receiver’s aircraft. Once the connection is made and locked, the boom operator says, “contact”. This is the signal for the pilot to start pumping gas. The KC-145 can hold about 180,000 pounds of gas.
“During the Gulf War, we used to ferry F-16’s across the Atlantic Ocean. Their fuel tanks didn’t hold enough gas for them to make it without landing several times. They would fly in formation with us until they needed gas, and then they would fly alongside of the cockpit and give the drink signal to the pilot. The boom operator would run to the back, get in position, and clear the receiver in for contact. The fighter would ease back to the rear of the aircraft, and get into position to receive the fuel transfer. There were usually six fighters flying with us when we crossed the ocean and they would take fuel hourly. The KC-135 can refuel just about any kind of airplane you can think of that is still flying today.”
“Oh, that is so cool. I interrupted you, I’m sorry. Please go on with your story,” Dane says.
“Oh, that’s okay. I love talking about airplanes. So, we were doing a tour in the Pacific and had made our rounds from Hawaii to Guam, to Kadena in Japan, and eventually to Thailand. We were hauling a couple of F-16’s across the ocean from Guam to Thailand. The fighters went to Bangkok, and we landed at Pattaya Beach in the southern part of the country. They lodged us at this gorgeous five-star hotel right on the water.
“After we stowed all of our gear in the rooms, we changed and met in the lobby. We wanted to experience some of the culture before it got dark, because we were told by our intelligence officers to stay off the streets at night. It can be a very dangerous place if you are on the wrong street after dark. So, we headed down to the shops located all along the ocean. We decided to stop and have dinner at this restaurant that specialized in American and Thai cuisine. The four of us decided to order two American dishes and two Thai dishes and share. So, I ordered the Chateaubriand, a fancy word for filet mignon, and one of the other guys ordered seafood soup.
“I can’t remember exactly what else we had, but those two dishes I remember. When the steak arrived, it didn’t look like any beef I had ever seen. It was a funny brownish-gray color and had a lot of gristle. I took a bite of it, and it definitely wasn’t beef. I really don’t know what it was, maybe dog or something. It was gross. The seafood soup had octopus tentacles hanging out the side of the bowl, and being a Detroit native, that didn’t appeal to me at all. So, I ate the bread and called it a day. On the way back to the hotel, I was surprised at the number of women soliciting sex on the streets. They were especially interested in me. One woman spotted me and hollered, ‘Hey, chocolate man, I bet you taste sweet’. I guess they had never seen a handsome black man like me before, and thought I would taste like chocolate, I don’t know. My crew and I laughed about that for hours. Needless to say, I got the nickname Chocolate man for the rest of the trip. I didn’t mind it so much, but told them once we got home, it was back to Henderson.”
“Henderson, that’s a funny story. It’s amazing how different the cultures can be from country to country,” I say. “If you said something like that on the streets in America, you’d probably get punched in the face. The way she said it sounded like a compliment to me.”
“Yeah, that’s how I took it. Kobi, do you have any stories?”
“Yeah, I have a few. I remember when I was about 13 years old, my Mom and Dad decided to go to Egypt that year. My Mom was an amateur Egyptologist and really wanted to visit the country she loved to study, so Dad decided to take four weeks off one summer and go. We landed in Cairo and took a taxi to the Nile Hilton, in the downtown area, right next to the Nile River. It was the most beautiful hotel I had ever seen.
“We wanted to do a lot of sightseeing, of course, so the Hilton recommended a guide for us to use. His name was Ahmed, and he was from a traditional Muslim family, who lived right behind the pyramids at Giza. We met him that evening in the Hilton’s restaurant for dinner and told him the places we wanted to visit. He asked us to meet him the next morning in the lobby, and he would take care of everything.
“The next morning we were in the lobby sharply at 7:00 a.m. as requested. He showed up a few minutes later, and had arranged a car to shuttle us to the Pyramids at Giza. His younger brother, Frank, was waiting for us at the base of the pyramids with a couple of Arabian horses. He asked my father if it would be okay to take me horseback riding through the desert around the pyramids and the surrounding areas. My Dad didn’t object at all. I didn’t mind either, because Frank was cute! So there I was riding horses through the desert with a handsome Egyptian, just like in the movies.
“Later on that evening, his family invited us over to their house for dinner. This was a traditional Muslim family, and the mother was not very fond of Americans, but she welcomed us into her home. She soon realized that we were not like most Americans and grew to love us. They prepared a feast for us compete with pigeons and a variety of vegetable dishes. There was bread, of course, and a few other things that I didn’t recognize. There was this bowl of oily liquid with green spinach leaves in the bottom. It was smothered with garlic. I didn’t try that dish.
“The pigeon was good, I have to admit. We learned a valuable secret that night while eating dinner--don’t let your plate get empty. I was trying to hide food under the pigeon carcass because I didn’t like it. The mother kept putting food on my plate because it was empty. You see, when I was growing up, you always ate what was on your plate, but over there, if your plate gets empty, they think you are still hungry. I learned really quick to leave food on my plate so I wouldn’t have to eat anymore.
“After supper, Frank pulled my Dad aside and asked him if I was able to bear children. He then asks my Dad for my hand in marriage. The Muslim men will marry a girl as soon as she is able to have children. My Dad respectfully said no, and explained that in our country, young girls go to school and get an education before they marry. Frank was disappointed but understood and asked if he could marry me when I was finished with school. I think he liked me. His younger brother was upset with him because he wanted to marry me too, but the older brother had first choice. We all laughed about it.”
“Lucky for you, huh Derrick?” Henderson says laughing. “I bet you would look cute in the traditional abaya.”
“I was lucky enough to go to Cairo once during the Gulf War,” Henderson says. “We were only there for a couple of days, but at least I got to see the Pyramids. They are a lot bigger than I imagined.”
“I know! You see them in books or on television and you know they’re big, but when you actually get there and see them in person, it makes your heart stop a beat. Did you get to see anything else while you were there?”
> “We managed to swing by the Cairo museum for a few hours but couldn’t see it all. We had to go back to our tent for some crew rest before going on alert again.
“Well, at least you got to see a few things. My parents enjoyed travelling and tried to plan a vacation every year. We saw most of the United States when I was younger, but as I got older we started travelling abroad. I remember another vacation we took when I was 15. We went to Kenya. We flew into Nairobi and rented a car and drove to this town on the coast called Mombasa. We spent the first couple of days getting acclimated and adjusting our internal time to Kenyan time. The hotel was called The Mombasa Hotel, and it was very luxurious. The main lobby had marble floors and gold accessories. I was told that this Hotel was a hot spot for the British who came down here on holiday.
“Although the rooms didn’t have a television or a radio, there was plenty of entertainment at the hotel every night. Each night a different tribe or troupe performed in the lobby for the tourists, dancing their traditional tribal dances. It was cultural overload for the first couple of evenings. There were numerous five-star restaurants around the hotel and the food was excellent. On the fourth day, we decided to go on safari. It wasn’t the type of safari where you go and shoot wild animals; it was a pleasure safari just for viewing the wildlife. Most safaris like this one are confined to a reserve where the animals are protected against poachers.
“When the safari van picked us up at the hotel, the three of us jumped in, followed by a couple from England and a family of three from South Africa. The drive to the reserve took about 45 minutes. We passed through the city of Mombasa and a few little other villages along the way. The van driver told us that the huts along the side of the road were built out of mud, cow dung, and straw. The kids would run out of their huts and chase the vans, hoping the passengers would throw out a little change for them. The driver asked us not to throw money because he didn’t want any of the children to get injured by the van.
“We pulled through the huge gate of the wildlife reserve and almost immediately saw giraffes, zebras, and antelope. The one animal everyone looks for when they are on safari is the lion. We looked and looked and didn’t see a single lion. I was a little disappointed, but didn’t have time to fret about it too much because the van broke down right there in the middle of the reserve. The driver tried to start the engine over and over, but it would not start. Now what?
“There was no radio in the van, and the driver had no way to contact the reserve rangers to let them know we were broken down. The only option we had was to wait and hope for another van to come along. So, there we were, out there in the middle of nowhere, like we are now. There was not another van in sight--not for miles, so we just waited. Finally, the driver of the van asked the men to get out and push. He thought if we were closer to a major intersection, someone might find us sooner. The men got out of the van and started pushing while Mom and I were standing up in the back of the van with our heads poking out of the top looking for lions. I didn’t want my Dad or the other men to become lunch.
“The roof of the van was constructed so that it could be electrically lifted to create a space large enough to view the scenery. We weren’t interested in the scenery, just lions. After all, the men were out there pushing the van, and we were concerned about a possible lion attack. I guess the men pushed at least for an hour before we came to a major intersection. Exhausted, they climbed back into the van and drank some water. Within a couple of hours, another van came along, got our information, and drove back to the lodge and got us some help. Another van showed up and took us back to the lodge, where we waited until our van was fixed.
“The lodge was perched high up on a hill overlooking one of the major watering holes on the reserve. There was an underground passageway that went from the lodge all the way to the base of the watering hole. At the end of the passageway, there was an elevated structure that served as an observation deck, where you could watch the animals drink. The animals couldn’t see you, but you had a bird’s eye view of them. By the time I got to the end of the passageway, there was an entire herd of elephants there drinking water. I had seen elephants in the zoo before, but not this close. I was impressed with their size. They are without a doubt my most favorite animal. There was a cute little elephant there drinking with his mom. He was probably about two months old.
“A small herd of giraffes came to the hole for a drink too. It’s always funny watching giraffes drink because, their necks are so long they can’t bend over to get the water, so they have to spread their front two legs apart until they can get their head close enough to the water to drink. How awkward for them to have to drink that way all the time. After the animals left the watering hole, we returned to the lodge for a cool glass of lemonade and came face-to-face with a blue-balled monkey. Yes, their balls were blue, hence the name. They were harmless animals, and very curious about us. They were not afraid to come right up to us and touch our legs. The most amazing thing I had ever seen!
“The adventure was extraordinary, and I am glad the van broke because I
really enjoyed sitting at the lodge watching the animals. Just think, I would have missed seeing the blue balled monkey had the van not broken down.”
“I could listen to you tell stories all night, Kobi,” Henderson says. “I can actually visualize every detail, like I’m watching a movie. How about you, Derrick? Did you travel much when you were a kid?”
“No. My Dad was the coach for the Los Angeles Rams, and we didn’t really have time to travel. He was so busy during the off season studying college players and figuring out who his next draft pick was going to be, that we didn’t have time for much at all. Mom was a stay-at-home Mom and didn’t believe in taking a vacation without Dad. But growing up in California wasn’t a bad thing. Los Angeles is an exciting town with lots to do, so I was never bored. We had the beaches in the summer and the mountains for skiing in the winter.
“I remember one weekend, my Mom took us to the Safari Park just north of San Diego and the San Diego Zoo. That’s when I decided I wanted to be a zoologist. I fell in love with animals that weekend, and never changed my mind. When my Dad moved to St. Louis with the team in 1995, I was bummed, because I was leaving the ocean to go live in the middle of the country, but I am glad we did. I met this beautiful lady there,” Derrick says as he strokes my long, brown, hair.
I lean my weight over toward him and kiss his cheek. What a wonderful husband I have. “Okay you two, cut it out,” Dane says.
“But growing up with a Dad who was a coach for a NFL football team had its advantages. I got to go to all of the football games and usually had one of the best seats in the house. My Dad would usually let me bring five or six friends with me to the games, so I was considered one of the coolest kids in school. I got to play football with some of the players when they came to the house for Sunday dinner. Dad liked to have the single players over during the off season. He was not only their coach, but their friend. I can’t complain at all.”
“So, Kobi, I am really curious about your flying experience. How did you get interested in flying, and why don’t you fly for a living?” Henderson inquires.
“I feel like I am doing all of the talking. When I was 16 years old, I got a part-time job as a ticket agent for a small, commuter airline at the airport just outside of town. One afternoon after my shift, a friend of the family asked me if I wanted to go for a ride in his airplane. He was a private pilot and owned his own airplane, so I called my Mom and Dad to make sure it was okay with them, and they told me it was fine. So, off we went. He took me out to the training area and showed me power-on, power-off stalls, and some other insignificant maneuvers before we returned to the airport for landing.
I went home and announced that I wanted to take flying lessons. My Dad looked at me and told me if I was serious, I would have to find the instructor and an airplane to
use. So the next day before my shift started, I went to the airport and found an instructor and an airplane. I called my parents and told them I was going to have my first flying lesson after my shift, if they wanted to come out and watch. So after work, I met with the instructor and had my first lesson. The instructor said I wasn’t serious about flying and that my parents should save their money. Needless to say, we found another instructor--one who believed in me.
I never wanted to fly full time because medical school was always my dream, so I decided to teach flying on the weekends. It’s an awesome job.”
“Does she ever take you flying, Derrick?” Dane asks.
“Sure, we fly quite a bit together. She has even taught me how to land the airplane so that if I ever need to, I can.
“That’s awesome,” Dane says.
“So Dane, I’m sure you have a story or two about some of your favorite clients, or maybe not so favorite clients. Come on, you have to have a good story,” Derrick says.
“Hmmm, let me think,” as he pauses and tries to remember. “There was this couple from the New England part of the United States. I’m not sure exactly where in America that is, but I think it is up around New York. Anyway, their names were Charles and Constance Tolliver. We conversed via e-mail for a few weeks before they got here, but I didn’t really know what to expect. I met them at their hotel in Darwin and couldn’t believe that this was the couple I would be roughing it with for a week. They were the typical upper class, aristocratic, better than everybody couple, especially the woman, Constance.”
“She was probably one of those debutante socialites who belonged to the best sorority in college,” I inserted.
“Yeah, she was educated at one of the ivy league universities. I remember that because she kept reminding me that she was an ivy league graduate and knew everything there was to know about Australia. She had studied geography for one semester, so that made her an expert on all the different cultures of the world, especially mine. She started telling me things about my country as soon as I set eyes on her.”
Derrick interjects, “She was one of those people, the kind you can’t teach a thing to, they know everything there is to know about everything.”
“Yeah, that’s the type. So, first of all, she was in a dress and slip-on shoes. It was a sun dress, but not appropriate attire for the day we had planned. I politely asked her to go change into a pair of blue jeans, and she informed me she did not own a pair of those wretched things. On every piece of luggage I saw the initial CAT. I asked her what it stood for and she informed me that those were her initials as well as her husbands. She said, ‘My name is Constance Addison Tolliver, and my husband’s name is Charles Andrew Tolliver’.”
“Are you serious?” Henderson says with his face twisted up in disbelief.
“Oh, I’m serious. Needless to say, she didn’t change her clothes, so we went about our day. I really don’t want to remember many of the details of the trip because I fear I would bore you all to tears, but the first evening, we had set up camp near Jim Jim Falls, close to where we camped that night. Of course, she didn’t do anything at all to help. Charles put on some gloves and collected a little firewood while she sat in the car and waited for dinner. Once the tents were set up and the stew was warmed up enough to eat, Charles went to the car and told her dinner was ready. She came to the fire and sat on a stump only after placing a rag on the log before sitting. I just shook my head in disbelief. I still don’t understand why someone like that would want to go camping in Australia.”
“She was doing it for bragging rights,” I insert.
“Bragging rights?”
“Yeah. She probably just wanted to be able to go home and tell all her friends that she survived the Outback of Australia and that it was no big deal. You know the type.”
“I suppose. We were all sitting around the fire eating the beef stew--your favorite Kobi--and of course Miss Constance was complaining because she was eating out of a metal plate and it tasted funny. Well, after dinner, she was just about to retire to her tent for the evening when she started jumping up and down, screaming that something was on her leg. She was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. She was pointing to her leg saying that something was crawling on her. Turned out to be a tiny spider. I knew the next six days were going to be a living hell.
“The rest of the night was uneventful. For the next couple of days, nothing earth shattering happened, but then the moment I will always remember. We were all fast asleep and suddenly I hear a blood curdling scream and come bolting out of my tent only to see her fly out of her tent screaming, ‘Snake, snake’. Her hair was down and she had this little nighty-shirt thing on. She was running away from the tent so fast she didn’t see the tree limb hanging down right in front of her. She hit the tree limb at full speed and it knocked her flat on her back. She was out cold. I went over to her, tried to slap her back to consciousness, but she was out. Her husband came over, lifted her and put her back in the tent and zipped it up. I thought that was a bit odd because he didn’t say a word. After zipping her up, he came and sat down next to me with a bottle of Scotch. ‘Finally, some peace and quiet’, he said. We laughed and shared the bottle.”
“Was she okay?” I inquired.
“Yeah, she was fine the next morning. She had a bump on her forehead the size of an egg and the beginning of a black eye. I’m sure she’ll have a different version of how she got a black eye. She came out of the tent and told her husband, ‘Get me out of this dreadful country’, so they left that afternoon. That was one for the books.”
Henderson says, “Dude, you need to think of some more stories like that one for tomorrow; I know you’ve got to have more. That was so funny.”
“I’ll have to think about it. I have this story unfolding right now that I can tell years from now.”
We all just smile at each other and agree that we all have a story to tell once we get out of here. I am starting to get sleepy and suggest that we turn in for the evening. Everyone agrees, so we head back to the area under the space blanket and lie down. It is a very peaceful evening and very quiet. I expected to hear howling and other night sounds, but it is very quiet. I tell everyone good night and fall asleep.