Merry's Marauders (Book #2 ~ Scenic Route to Paradise, refreshed 2016 edition)

by Andrea Aarons

  When Merry stepped out into the hallway, she smelled whiskey and then saw Mac’s silhouette against a muted light coming from the kitchen at the end of the hallway.

  “Mac?” Merry questioned.

  He said, “Yes, come to the kitchen but watch out on the right. Someone is asleep on the floor.”

  Merry moved to the left and wondered who was on the floor in the hallway. In the kitchen on the counter, a kerosene lamp was lit. Mac was in front of her and she followed him, the feeble lantern glow lighting her way. He was dressed all in black. When he turned to her in the lamplight, Merry saw that he was angry... again. She realized the strong alcohol smell was not coming from the sleeper in the hallway but from him.

  Merry stopped at the edge of the lamplight. She held her sneakers in her hand and her jacket folded over her right arm, in case he wanted her for the roof.

  “What have you done now? Where is it?” Mac asked with his hand angled behind him pointing in the direction of the supply closet.

  What have I done now? Merry replayed his statement in her mind. She decided not to argue with him. He was drunk and an argument would be futile.

  “Do you want me to take the watch from Tina or Junior?” she asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

  Mac reached out and took her firmly by her left arm, moving her in front of him toward the back closet. It happened so fast that Merry did not recoil but found herself going before him, propelled into the hallway. A flashlight came on as they arrived at the supply closet door. The opened box was just inside the doorway and there was water bottles laying about the floor. They stopped and he let go of her arm.

  “We spent a full night getting those cases. Now where are they?” Mac asked again. He stood less than a foot behind her and the liquor stench coming from him filled the small space. Merry thought he should go to bed and forget about drinking himself into oblivion but she didn’t say so.

  Instead, she said, “Mac, I don’t drink. So what makes you think that I got into your... your party stash?”

  Mac’s accent thickened as his voice rose. “You don’t drink! Apparently, everyone else in this house does! Perhaps, you would be the logical person to defy my schemes and either hide the whiskey or destroy it... So help me, if you destroyed it, all your eyelash batting and flirtatious smiling will get you nowhere. I will beat you for your insolence and throw you into the well-house since you people have no dungeons.” He had spun her around. At his words she was thankful the flashlight was waving erratically around and not on her face. Her look went from surprise and then anger and then fear and then anger again.

  Merry pushed past him before he could grab her arm again. She said, “Here it is Captain Durango!” Mac had turned with her as she went by him and his flashlight revealed her free hand pointing to the wall next to the closet door. There was a large metal grill covering an intake vent for the massive cooling and heating system for the building. “It’s in there. All but the three bottles. You’ll need a screwdriver.” She sat down on the floor and began putting on her sneakers. There was a dozen or more tools hanging in the closet, including the Philips screwdriver Patsy had used to show Merry the hiding place. Mac took a screwdriver and opened the vent screen as Merry stood, her shoes now on.

  “If I was you and I am not, I would sleep it off and not tell anybody else this secret,” Merry advised him. The temptation had been too great for the women fresh out of jail. She put on her parka and pulled the hood up over her head. Merry resisted giving him more advice as he proved to be beyond reason...

  “Flirtatious smiling!” Turning, Merry left him there shining the flashlight beam into the return vent.

  Chapter 10 White as Snow

  Climbing the ladder, Merry pushed the skylight open. The cold air awoke her beyond what Mac’s outburst had done. The bedroom had been cold but this was real chill. Lifting herself through, she closed the window and sat on the skylight rim to pull on her wool mittens. The days had been warm but this March night - early morning was frosty. Someone was standing up front where Junior had been sitting earlier. The figure was too tall to be Junior and too slim to be Tina. Lenny was on watch. Merry guessed the time to be about four. In another hour, the east sky would begin to lighten.

  When Lenny saw Merry, he asked, “What are doing up here? Mac told me to take watch alone. I guess everybody is comatose from drinking... but not you?”

  Approaching him, Merry verred by the patio side of the roof and saw just embers where the fire had been. The merry-makers had gone off to bed. She said, “Lenny, I don’t drink. I was asleep. But then I thought Tina might need to get some rest so I came up. Did you relieve her and Junior too?”

  “Yes, about an hour ago,” he told her. He pointed and Merry followed with her eyes. There were patches of orange glowing against the low cloud cover. Lenny said, “Fires. I’m fairly certain that is Cerrillos Road. My motel is probably getting torched about now. I wasn’t planning on sticking around anyway but I’m real glad Nik came and got me.”

  Merry said, “I suppose Mac was right... There is civil unrest breaking out because this whole emergency fiasco. It’s unreal.” They began walking clockwise along the turret wall. Below it was dark and there was nothing to see except the distant eerie orange shifting about the night sky. Overhead was white with puffy snow threatening clouds.

  They quit talking. Merry wondered if Lenny had been with Sarah as neither seemed drunk. Sarah must have just come in when she woke Merry. At that time, Lenny was chosen to finish the watch because he hadn’t been drinking, she surmised. She was curious about Sarah but her questions would be awkward and self-serving, so she stayed silent. Lenny finally said, “You know, if we are having trouble... real trouble, you are not to stand or walk along the wall like this? Right?” Merry hadn’t thought about “real” trouble or how she would respond.

  She said, “I suppose not but should we have a drill or something? I hadn’t really thought about it.” If she hadn’t considered it, Merry decided that the other women had not understood the importance of not being a silhouetted target, either.

  Lenny didn’t respond for some time. The last few days had brought a severe mental shift followed by a physical survival sense as if by genetic blueprint within him. Initially, he saw that others at the motel and then in the streets were aimlessly wandering and wondering what they needed to do but for Lenny, he knew; he must survive. Although worlds apart, Lenny fell in-step with Malak from D’Almata, recognizing the foreigner’s disposition for leadership, survival and practicality. They made a good team. Already, Lenny had enormous confidence in Mac’s ability to see him and all of them through this life-threatening predicament. Lenny held no confidence in God. Lenny came from a long line of survivors and for the most part, it seemed their God left them to work out their salvation with fear and trembling - even leaving them to their own devices to survive.

  Lenny said, “This survival thing is a work in progress. You’ve got a point though. I’m sure Mac has thought of it but he hasn’t mentioned anything to me so I’ll ask him.”

  Snow had begun to fall as they had circled the roof. When the sky to the east begun to lighten, Merry realized it was later than she realized. Only Tom Biggs and Mrs. Ortiz had working wristwatches. Tracking time had not been much of a problem so far. The cell phones were dead. Even after charging them when the generator was on, the inner clocks on the phones were flawed, at this point.

  Lenny asked her, “Did anyone hear the news report yesterday? We’ve been so preoccupied...” He chuckled. “I used to check the internet news three, four - maybe five times daily. Now, it’s an afterthought. First, I have to run up the wall - a parkour maneuver to secure a convalescent home and then I might check the Nikkei average.” He laughed bitterly. He was sleep deprived, Merry decided.

  “No. We didn’t hear anything new but hey, it’s almost sunrise. You don’t have a hat. Why don’t you turn in and I’ll finish the watch,” she suggested trying not to make herself sound motherly.
He agreed and soon Merry was circling the roof by herself.

  The pink in the east turned a dull grey as the sun made a glowing appearance and then moved behind the snow clouds. Merry didn’t know how long the night watch was supposed to stay up on the roof but Mac had said someone would be on duty twenty-four sevens. It was oddly quiet. The snowfall seemed to absorb sound. All the brown and beige landscape, so common for early spring in Santa Fe, looked purified by the snow cover.

  Merry’s body was exhausted but her mind kept replaying the recent events. Mac seemed to be central in her thinking. He was such a necessary evil right now, she thought. His plan to take a war bride seemed to be on hold. She hoped he was having second thoughts about her. Her independent behavior had perhaps surprised him but he was not an American. His people, the women at least were more passive perhaps... Merry wasn’t sure about that.

  Studying American history in a foreign high school had been a challenge as Merry was fiercely patriotic. Even with the anti-American bent, it was quite obvious to her that the United States in the old days had acted as a magnet pulling the most independent and adventurous from the world’s population. Her gene pool came from those independent types and although she didn’t adhere to the Theory of Evolution she understood, only the strongest had survived those early days... with God’s help.

  Merry came from good stock, she knew. Her parents raised her as a PK overseas - a preacher’s kid or specifically, a missionary’s brat. Along with her older sister, Kate and the eldest, her brother Dale, they had learned to love life and God. Merry really enjoyed living. She wasn’t ready to die even if that meant being with God in Heaven for eternity. She heard the stories and she knew that she knew, God’s eternal Kingdom - Heaven was going to be awesome, magnificent, exciting and all that. Still, God put so much emphasis into living and working and loving in the here and now on Earth, that Merry decided it must be truly important to do it right. At twenty-one years old, that is exactly what Merry intended on doing.

  Merry sighed audibly at her conclusion. Wouldn’t it be genuinely difficult “to do it right” now that this situation had overtaken her? Her mother, Toni Merriweather had temporarily moved to D’Almata last year but now she was due to get married there next month. Originally, Merry was to leave for D’Almata weeks ago but she procrastinated. Even Kate and Dale and his family were on their way or had arrived on the island nation of D’Almata already, she guessed. If only she had listened to her mother’s cajoling or her brother’s nagging or even Kate’s pleading to travel with one of them, her life would be different right now. She would be with her family. Instead, she was ensnared in a catastrophe that threatened her life at the most and if not her life, her future and her destiny.

  Merry loved to snowboard and to surf but she wondered if those simple entertainments mattered anymore? She was only twenty-one! Of course, they should matter! She thought about the generation of young people like Anne Frank from World War II who had hopes and dreams and aspirations of love which all came to an unavoidable halt when war erupted. Is that what was happening to her? What about Malak D’Almata? He had grown up in his own personal world war. Although there was deprivation and death, Mac held fond memories of his teen years. That seemed perverse to Merry but then, she sensed her thoughts being buffeted and modified by the present circumstances.

  Surely, God didn’t want them going through this trial of life and death? This thought was not fully materialized in her mind when the scripture from Romans pushed forward... all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. Merry, never terrific at memorizing scripture, did know that verse was in chapter 8.

  For many years, Merry struggled with the idea of becoming a missionary like her parents had done. God loved her and she felt that His love meant she could do what she wanted with her life. Last summer when she had come to Santa Fe to visit her newly widowed mother, a life changing opportunity opened for the two of them. Toni had gone on to D’Almata while Merry took a hiatus from college and stepped into her mother’s jail ministry left vacant. At the time, Merry thought to placate God by working with the women at the county corrections facility. I’ll teach Sunday School, date the church nerd and open the halfway house for recently released inmates... but God wouldn’t be placated. Dragging her feet to leave for D’Almata was a result of her inner struggle. She mistakenly presumed that traveling overseas would be the final straw against her fortitude to withstand God’s persistent niggle. He wanted her to surrender to His plan for her life and if that meant being a missionary, then so be it. Up until now, she hadn’t been ready to repent of stubbornness and pride. Now she was.

  Warm tears pooled at the lower lid of her golden brown eyes. As they slid down her cheeks mingled with snowflakes, the tears felt hot against her skin. Merry wasn’t a crier. She wouldn’t sob but rather sniffle her way into the throne room of Grace knowing that her Heavenly Father had a wonderful plan and that she was a part of it, even still.

  Merry pulled off her mitten to grope around for a tissue in her pocket. It was late, she would go below to get a tissue and send someone else up for the morning watch. Turning, she was shocked to see Mac standing several feet behind her. He had been there for sometime as the quarter inch of snow on his black cap indicated.

  His black-brown eyes revealed alarm and he said, “You are crying! I thought I heard you whispering - talking to your God, perhaps. But you cry?” He stepped forward with hesitation. The snow on the roof at their feet revealed he had come forward already as his footprints came within inches of Merry. At one point, Mac and been standing directly behind her! Retracing his steps, he handed her a red bandana that he plucked from his pocket. Merry dried her face and blew her nose.

  “Thank you. Yes, I was praying,” she said with a sniff and wondered about what he had overheard.

  “You talk to your God and he makes you cry? Humph!” Mac snorted, stuffing his bare hands into his jacket pockets as he walked past her to the parapet. He stood looking at the whitened scenery. The snow falling had gone from tiny fast flecks to large wafting flakes.

  Merry turned and looked at the scene too but she remained reticent by his unexpected arrival. She noticed his liquor smell was diluted by the fresh air and the passing of time. Pushing the bandana into her pocket, she then pulled her mitten back on. She wondered if he was still drunk or tipsy from the party. Weighing up the idea that it might be a good time to bring up the whole “alcohol and ex-inmates do not mix well in this confined environment” discussion, Merry spoke.

  “God does make me cry sometimes but this morning my tears are my own doing,” she began. He looked down at her and then folded his arms across his chest, looking out again. She said, “I am realizing I have a big responsibility to everyone downstairs... and to you and I am saddened that I have been slow to take on that duty. Yesterday for example when I saw those cases of whiskey stacked against the wall, I wanted to warn you that these women of mine are... are easily tempted or so they have been in the past.”

  Mac looked at her and frowned. He was still very handsome when he frowned and so she quickly looked away, eyeing instead, the snow covered ground and trees in front of them. “What I mean is, I should have insisted that we put them in a secure place so that you can have all you wanted at your leisure but instead, I cowed to your yelling and... uh,” Merry had looked to him again and his dark eyes now showed genuine surprise. She said, “I mean it was righteous anger, of course... After all, I was gallivanting about the countryside bringing strangers into our midst and neglecting my duty as a night watchman, etcetera. It’s just that I wanted you to stop yelling and so I didn’t bring up the importance of securing your... your liquor cabinet.” She had to look away again.

  Mac burst out laughing. Merry turned back and had to smile at him... with him. “What?” she asked sincerely perplexed by his response. He nodded and continued to smile as he looked out on the calming snow covered evergreens.

  “I w
ill tell you... Listen, I will share my liquor cabinet with you now that you have secured it. Okay?” he said, but Merry thought he was trying to sound very American in spite of his Adriatic accent.

  Not looking at him but with him at the pristine landscape, she continued to smile too. “Oh no, thank you! I don’t drink. I never have and I never will,” Merry said full of pride in her lack of interest in alcohol. Her parents hadn’t ever drank - not even wine. The only alcohol Merry ever had in her kitchen was Kate’s cooking wine when they roomed together in Flagstaff.

  Grabbing up her mitten hand, Mac lifted it to his nose. “You don’t drink! But you smell like whiskey even now. You must have made an exception last night!” He said smiling even wider than before. She pulled her hand away to smell her glove.

  “It does not smell like liquor!” She said adamantly. She put it back under his nose and he gently took her hand and to smell again. Merry reached over to his black turtleneck sweater rimmed above his jacket and pulled it down toward her nose. “You smell, not me!” He too smelled his turtleneck that was in danger of being stretched beyond repair.

  Junior coughed. They both jumped back like two preschoolers caught sharing a stolen cookie. Mac had both of her hands, one at his collar and clinging yet to the other dropped down between them, as the smelling of that glove was finished. This was how Junior saw them.

  Merry’s healthy pink face went scarlet. A moment before, it was nothing but certainty that Mac had been drinking and not she. Now, she had been “caught” apparently bantering about with a perfect stranger. She pulled her hands away as Mac laughed out loud.

  “It was you! You smelled earlier and you continue to smell like... like...” she said angrily with a step back but then, looked at Junior and decided not to finish.