Desperado Dale (Scenic Route to Paradise) (2 page)

Anna let out a sigh, pushing back a wild wave of
tawny hair. She should be anxious and upset about Dale but in spite of the
dozens of seemingly unsolvable problems that had loomed before them these past
months, they had managed to overcome and proceed toward their destination. In
hindsight, the worry and energy exerted to puzzle through the recent
difficulties had been a waste, Anna found. Again and then again, she saw that
prayer was answered and God remained in control. Still, Anna’s sigh caused Bean
to turn from the green and blue collage that was peppered with the brown and
beiges of ancient ruins to look with concern toward her grandson’s wife - Anna.

Bean placed her reading glasses in front of her
eyes with one hand while tapping the booklet on her lap with her other. In her
usual raspy tone she said, “I got another great idea from this senior’s
Great
Tips and Diverting Trivia
book.” The elderly woman was hoping to distract
Anna from the mysterious circumstance that caused them to rush from the island
airport, without Dale. “A cookbook... I am going to put together a cookbook for
the girls. You know, Anna, I’m getting older and so I want to leave a legacy to
my girls and the grandchildren, too.”

Anna glanced at Bean.
She was serious.
The older woman always dressed impeccably but also in comfort. Today she wore a
navy blue velour jogger’s set that complemented her deep blue eyes. She had
this same outfit with a zip up jacket in three other colors. Her long white
hair was pinned up as usual in a fluffy Gibson-girl style. Anna asked politely,
“So, what kind of recipes are you thinking to include?”

“Well...” Bean paused as she hadn’t formulated
her distraction beyond the immediate. “Perhaps, a traveler’s recipe book. I’ve
traveled extensively you know and now here we are in
Greece
! Of course, we enjoyed
some delicious food while in
France
...” Anna winced at her words and as anticipated, grandpa in
the backseat piped in.

“French food! Now that’s a good one! If it takes
the Frogs as long to accomplish competency in running their country as it did
to hone their excellent culinary achievements... little Gwyneth here will have
died of old age.” Bernie Adams gave a bushy-browed wink toward the awakening child.
He was a handsome man with his full head of iron-grey hair and his bright grey
eyes.

Jellybean looked to Anna and then she said
complacently, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Me, Mommy. I have to go-o-o!” said four-year
old Gwyneth ending her munchkin-like words with a yawn. Gwennie had the
sky-blue eyes of her parents but the wavy dark hair came from Anna’s parents
and their ancient Greek heritage.

“Me too,” said great-grandpa with another wink.

Anna wanted to point out that they all had used
the toilet at the airport approximately 30 minutes ago but she knew from
experience that this bit of information would change nothing.

“Look there Anna. It’s a street cafe. I can get
a cup of the excellent Greek coffee while you ladies are using the little
girls’ room.” At Bernie’s words, Anna looked to the right and there were two
tables arranged above the lane on a hillside patio. A splash of greenery
interspersed with red and white flowers cascaded from the stone wall. In her
opinion, the place looked extremely inviting.

Maybe Dale will call before we get too far from
town. We could meet him somewhere... Or possibly turn around and go back.
Anna weighed her
options.

“What a gorgeous little haven!” exclaimed Bean.

Anna made a quick turn, driving up the hill to pull
up at the curb under the flowers. “Okay. We’ll use the potty and have a cup of
java. Maybe Dale will call and we can pick him up before getting too far from
the city,” Anna announced with decision.

“Excellent suggestion!” remarked Mr. Adams who
had reached over and unsnapped Gwennie’s seat belt. He was out the door and
opening the car door for Bean before Anna had set the emergency brake.

By the time, Anna had Gwyneth out of the car
with her purse on her arm along with a change of clothing for the child who was
hot and sweaty, Grandma Bean and her estranged ex-spouse, Bernie Adams had
finished their slow crawl up the half dozen steps. When mother and child
finally arrived at the hilltop patio, Jellybean was returning from inside and
great-grandpa had forgotten about the restroom. He was sitting at one of the
two tables. A young man with the sleeves of his white collared shirt rolled up
to his elbows followed patiently a few steps behind Bean.

Looking past the elderly couple, the man said to
Anna in Greek, “May I help you?”

Anna smiled and said, “Yes, thank you. My
daughter needs the bathroom and her great grandparents are in desperate need of
something to drink... coffee, preferably.”

“Young man, would you please put up this table
umbrella? Your sun is bright and inviting after the dreary days of French
overcast and the recent rain. You see, we’re old and too much sun isn’t what we
should have,” Bean explained, assuming that the fellow spoke English.

He did.

Looking confused, he replied in English, “Sure,
why not? The bathroom...” He didn’t finish because Jellybean finished for him.

“Oh Gwennie! poor little thing! Anna, just go
through that red door there and then it’s on the left. Don’t go too far or
you’ll end up in the kitchen... I did!” Bean directed with a hand wave pointing
beyond the young man in white sleeves.

Anna nodded and passing the others went toward
the red door. Inside, the smells reminded her of childhood when she visited
Greece
or even in
America
when she went to her
elderly relatives’ homes. Gwyneth was in a hurry and so Anna’s reminiscing was
interrupted as she tended to her little girl.

There was a wonderful view from their roadside
table. The capital,
Kerkira
and the airport were behind them hidden by rows of red-roofed
houses on either side but before them an expanse of turquoise water meeting
pale blue sky and toward the north at the other end of the island, the lumpy
landscape, dusty velvet-green. Mr and Mrs Adams were quiet, enjoying the
moment, Anna decided as she rejoined them. There were four glasses with water
on the table and a thick
Athens
phone book on one of the wrought iron chairs which Anna realized
was a makeshift toddler seat for Gwennie.

The man returned with two small cups of thick
black coffee and a short pitcher, filled and steaming milk. He set the tray
down in front of Mr Adams.

“So you were here during World War II?” the
waiter asked the older man continuing their earlier discussion.

“Oh, sorry no I didn’t mean I was actually here
on the island. I worked with several members of the underground in
France
and then in
Germany
after the war, too,”
Dale’s grandfather explained.

In her wiry voice, Jellybean said proudly, “Mr
Adams was known as Berlin Billie back then... or just Bernie. In those days, we
knew a young couple by the name of Manikas and they were from here. I suppose
they are very old now as that was back in 1948.”

Anna having made Gwyneth comfortable, turned her
attention to the younger man standing above them. He was very Greek looking
according to her standards; the dark hair and eyes, straight nose set above
dramatic lips. He was about her age - 30ish and her height at five foot six
although he looked as strong as a bull with broad muscular shoulders and
forearms.

After some minutes of trading information and
talking history, Anna was ready to order a bite to eat.

“Call me Nick,” he was saying and so Anna
interrupted.

“Nick, you don’t have Baklava do you? I have had
a craving for some Baklava for weeks,” she asked in Greek.

He laughed but shook his head, “No! That is not
one of our specialties. Let me go see what we have and I’ll be right back.”

While Nick was inside, “Mr Adams” (as Bean
usually referred to her ex-husband), began recounting the illustrious qualities
of the Greeks and especially the Kerkyrians compared to the French. Anna nodded
several times in agreement because everything Greek to her was above average,
if not excellent. Although she had nothing against the French or any other
particular nationality, Dale’s grandfather’s speech was absolutely correct from
her viewpoint.

Nick came out the red door with dishes and
tableware, a platter of food, a pitcher of water and two bottled soft drinks
for Anna and Gwyneth. He returned inside as they examined the foods before
them. Anna was quite pleased with the edible mosaic he served which included a
little bit of several Greek dishes familiar to her.

Some time later, Nick came out with a cell phone
to his ear as Gwennie was taking the last bite of the Mousaka.

“You beat the French out my boy - You Greeks
always do!” exclaimed Mr Adams. Both Nick and Anna nodded in agreement.
Jellybean was directing Gwyneth’s attention toward a large white butterfly
which had landed on the balcony flowers. The old man said, “If I didn’t know
better I would say that these were leftovers from your Aunt Sophia’s dinner
preparations last night.”

Nick, smiling as he hung up, absentmindedly
nodded again. “Actually, my Aunt Olympia’s fine cooking,” he told them before
adding, “I must be going. Please, drop in anytime.” Nick was pulling down his
sleeves and buttoning the cuffs as he spoke.

“Young man. Um... Nick, please bring our bill as
we would rather leave our gratuity with you than some other waiter,” requested
the elderly, Bernie.

Nick had already started down the stairs but he
grinned lopsidedly at them as he said, “I never charge my guests when they drop
in during my lunch break. I work downtown. You see I live here... and also, my
sister. This is our family house but I cannot ever recall an incident like
this... Tourist mistaking our back balcony for a roadside cafe!” He disappeared
behind the wall of rock and flowering foliage with a resounding chuckle.

Chapter 2  Plying the
Sea
of
Insanity
   
    Several hundred nautical miles west of the Ionian isle of Kerkyra, the
Serendipity
sailed a choppy
Atlantic Ocean
. Malak D’Almata or best known as Mac, and his crew made up
of his recent bride - Merry and the young American cousins, Junior Tapia and
Tino Lucero as well as the 30 year old Mexican national, Zeff Zeferano, sailed
from the Mexican port of Vallarta in early July. Merry’s sister, Kate
Merriweather joined the group briefly only to be left on
St Helena
off the coast of
Namibia
to recuperate after
being kidnapped by pirates from the
Gulf
of
Guinea
,
West Africa
.

Within hours of brother Dale’s airport setback,
Merry received an almost incoherent but urgent call from her mother, Toni
Merriweather. Kate had also called using the ship-to-shore radio announcing her
engagement to Mac’s long time
St Helena
friend, Roger Cowels. So Kate, now fully recovered from her
abduction ordeal was getting married and the couple would be meeting up with
the
Serendipity
and crew on the
Island
of
D’Almata
... Mac’s homeland.

   
    The legendary island nation of D’Almata in the
Adriatic Sea
is often described as
being 200 miles from anywhere. Isolated D’Almata, north of Kerkyra had been the
destination of dozens of Toni Merriweather’s family and intimate friends. Toni,
a widowed missionary had family mostly from the east coast of the
USA
but her friends lived
worldwide and several had planned to attend her wedding to a D’Almatan diplomat
some months before. The devastating earthquake which split the Midwestern
United States like a Jack the Ripper victim was followed within hours by a
three-pronged enemy assault. The national collapse had changed not only Toni’s
wedding guests’ travel plans but the socio-economics of the entire world.

Like the Titanic sinking in slow motion,
America
had received a fatal
blow and life
Americana
was completely and irrevocably gone. Although the world
continued to reel under the ramifications of the American catastrophe, the
initial weeks were the worse. In the months following,
China
and
Asia
,
Russia
,
Europe
and the
Mideast
were scrambling to take
advantage of the military and economic voids left by the
United States
’ enfeeblement.
  

   
    The sea of insanity of which the people of planet Earth found themselves
afloat was awash with tsunami size problems. Those that had lived anchored to
the superficial and short-sighted philosophy which declared that twentieth
century western lifestyle was a permanent landmark and becoming globally more
so, were caught unawares. Life had gone topsy-turvy even for those people who
were not directly affected by the continent splitting earthquake or the vicious
unilateral attack from
America
’s ill-wishers.
   
    Besides the New Madrid Earthquake, several nuclear accidents caused by
continual and massive earthquakes convulsing throughout the world were taking a
toll. Pockets of people worldwide were affected as the radiation concentrated
in specific areas and global climate was destabilized. A chain reaction of
climate and nuclear toxins greatly diminished the beleaguering agricultural
markets which in turn caused food shortages. The result was extreme price hikes
where food
was
available. Some visionaries saw where the famine was
headed just as they foresaw the fragile international security atmosphere
before the
United
States
was assailed. Even so, the majority of the world’s populace had little idea how
quickly a descending and a meager existence the regular joe was headed for.