B.B.U.S.A. (Buying Back the United States of America)

by Lessil Richards

  “I already have a plan. Relax buddy, and trust me.”

  “Yeah, isn’t that what the snake said to Mogli in The Jungle Book? Trust me, trust me, I hope those are not some kind of infamous last words. I think our fore-fathers might have even said that to the Indians.”

  “Hey, buddy, together we’ll do just fine.” The two men finished their food and took the plates to the kitchen sink.

  “Let’s go back in the living room where I can be comfortable while you further enlighten me of your plan,” Doug said dryly.

  The two men agreed to leave the next morning for Challis, Idaho, where they had graduated from high school together. Leo’s grandmother still lived there in a large, two-story Victorian house that had been built in 1910 by Leo’s great-grandfather. The men knew the town and the countryside well. They had both spent an enormous amount of time exploring and hunting throughout the wilderness areas surrounding the small community. No one would know the country or surrounding area better than they would.

  Doug agreed to bring his high-end laptop computer and would work on breaking the password while Leo drove back to Idaho. Leo had reasoned that no one would suspect his dear eighty-eight year old grandmother of harboring the two young men. Besides, if he remembered correctly, his grandmother would be leaving for a two-week cruise to Alaska in a few days. They would most likely have the house entirely to themselves. She would be out of any potential danger.

  Doug volunteered to take his newer Dodge Ram Crew Cab truck, as it had four-wheel drive on-the-fly which could come in handy. There was still plenty of room to keep all their gear locked inside the cab if necessary.

  In exchange for all of Doug’s help, Leo insisted on placing his friend’s name on the title and bill of sale for the sports car. Doug resisted for a while, but finally gave in, knowing how persistent his friend could be. Doug thought it was a delightful little vehicle, but, wondered how he would get his six-foot-four inch body into the small Japanese car. Perhaps he would end up selling it to pay off his truck instead.

  It was after four in the morning before the men gave into sleep and quit trying to figure out the confounded password on the flash drive. They would finish packing in the morning and make the calls so Doug could leave town. Both of them welcomed the much, needed sleep.

  Ervin watched the house for hours until all the lights finally went out and he felt there was no doubt whatsoever that they had settled for the night. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction at the results of his work. After chasing phantoms for the past two days he had finally caught up with Leo. He thought about taking them both on with his pistol while they slept, but he wasn’t sure that Bob would be pleased.

  Instead he reached for his cell phone and placed a late night call to Boise. Carl informed him that the other team members were now back in Boise. Carl further assured him that he would relay the message to Bob. Ervin gave the operative his cell phone number and settled down to wait for further instructions.

  He had slept very little in the last forty-eight hours. This worried him, because he needed to stay alert should Leo try to leave. He rolled a window partly down, for fresh air and to be sure the noise would awaken him if any cars started or a garage door went up. He relaxed his head against the front door frame and allowed himself to drift off into a light, guarded sleep.

  Later, he was awakened by the persistent ring tone of his cell phone. Bob wanted to hear first-hand that Leo was truly in Denver, and assured Ervin that they would catch the next available flight out there. Thirty minutes later he called again, giving Ervin instructions to pick the five of them up at the Denver airport at eleven in the morning. They would finish up their business by the end of the weekend and be able to put the whole damned mess behind them once and for all.

  Ervin marveled at Bob’s stamina, though he supposed they might catch a few hours rest before they left and could also nap on the plane. Still he was sure dedicated to the mission and quite the bloodhound. Finally, Ervin let his guard down and he purposely curled up on the backseat of the van, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as his eyes closed.

  Chapter 24

  Sarah and the boys had a short layover in Pretoria before boarding their final flight to Windhoek, Namibia. She found a bank at the terminal and exchanged some of her money for South African rand, then gave both boys some money to put in their pockets. She hated all the times when she was a kid and had no money in her pockets. It was good to have some money in case they wanted to buy a snack or something. She had few doubts what Traykie’s money would buy him: anything that resembled food in any form. She sighed; it was an ongoing thing with him. She hoped he could curb his eating habits a little by the time he stopped growing so fast. She was truly amazed how he maintained such a strong, lean body with the amount that he ate.

  She was nervous being in South Africa so near to the next general elections. Many people had supported Mandela, but the opposition since his time was often very militant. The airport was swarming with South African soldiers in uniform carrying machine guns. Traykie recognized some of the rifles from previous discussions with Leo. He was proud to announce that they were carrying R4 rifles, their version of the American AR-15 or M16, or even the Russian AK-47 assault rifles. None of this news made her feel any better.

  Sarah felt she was dressed well for the climate. She was wearing a white T-shirt tucked into some tan shorts with light brown Birkenstocks on her feet. Her long thick brown hair was neatly pulled back in a tight French braid. She thought she could manage it more easily on the long flight this way. Her dark tan looked even darker with the white T-shirt. The kids were also dressed in light clothing showing off their Texas tans. The bridge of the noses on both boys was a little red. She expected that Chris’s nose would eventually peel as it was brighter than Traykie’s.

  They had a snack at one of the many airport restaurants and practiced the few Afrikaans words that Leo had taught them. After their snack, the trio decided to stop at a gift shop to purchase some reading materials for their final leg of their trip.

  The boys stopped to get a drink from a nearby drinking fountain while Sarah proceeded to enter the little gift shop. Upon entering the doorway, she noticed a rack of familiar American magazines at the back of the shop and headed for them. A harsh voice boomed as she passed a soldier standing near the front entrance. Since the voice was speaking in Afrikaans she could not understand what was said and continued towards the magazine stand.

  Again the voice boomed. “Wag ‘n bietjie, Kaffir!”

  Sarah stopped, recognizing the derogatory word for a black South African, but was utterly dumbfounded when a firm hand was placed on her shoulder, pulling her backwards. She was caught off guard and lost her balance. She started to topple over backwards but caught herself by grabbing on to a free-standing magazine rack on her left side. She remained standing, though the magazine rack toppled over, spilling its contents on the floor.

  “Kyk wat jy doen Kaffir,” the soldier blurted.

  She was totally perplexed, angry and curious all at the same time. What had she done? She looked around her quickly but didn’t see any Africans standing near her.

  The man grabbed her arm and said; “Kom hier!”

  She registered his previous statement as having something to do with “look” and calling her a “Kaffir”. She knew there had been some misunderstanding when the soldier jerked at her arm half pulling her towards the entrance. She yanked her arm out of his grip. Looking the young soldier straight in the eye, she glared back defiantly. “What is your problem, asshole?”

  He yelled back. “Staan stil!” Which she clearly understood to mean ‘stand still’, but she was not one to be overly obedient and seldom took orders from anyone, let alone some young rude punk with a gun. He again reached for her arm, but she avoided his grip. Sarah was tiring of his game and becoming livid. Her nostrils flared as she was rapidly inhaling and exhaling short bursts of air. She had no idea what his problem was nor what his in
tentions might be, but since she had done nothing wrong, she certainly was not going to let him drag her off somewhere for some interrogation or body search, like she had seen happen in movies concerning foreign countries.

  The man raised his voice again. “Luister na my!” He reached and took hold of the waistband of her tight shorts and pulled her to him. He used his free hand to feel her pockets and started to feel/touch her butt, poked at her crotch and moved up to her breasts with a swift movement. The entire process lasted a second or two, but seemed like an eternity to Sarah. She knew she was being treated like some sort of second class citizen. She felt violated and mad. It never dawned on her that he might have to frisk everyone entering the gift shop. When he reached for her purse, she could stand it no longer. He still had a hold on her waist band. She could smell his breath. She was not going to give up her purse where her money and their passports were stored. Her blood was boiling. If Leo was there he would kick this guy’s ass. But he wasn’t.

  So, she quickly brought her right knee up as hard as she could, connecting solidly with the man’s squashy testicles. His eyes instantly dilated. He fell to the floor in a heap, and he hunched up in a fetal position, holding his crotch with both hands while groaning. He began sobbing as tears flowed freely down his cheeks and drool began dripping from the corner of his open mouth.

  Sarah looked at him in disbelief, amazed at the solid connection her knee had made with the unsuspecting man’s scrotum. She felt both sorry for him and righteously indignant, thinking that he had only gotten what he so well deserved. She did not have time to think about the man sprawled on the floor any longer, as all the commotion in the store created an uproar. Worried shoppers anxiously cleared the store. The manger leapt over the counter like he was at the Olympics in the middle of a hurtle race and sincerely wanted to win the gold medal.

  Both boys arrived at the main entrance just as the store manager slapped Sarah to the ground. Traykie realized this must be the moment his dad had warned him about and reacted instantly without planning his moves. He took three running steps towards the standing manager and then heaved his body in the air in a flying karate kick directed at the man’s chest. The shocked manager had no time to react. The full force of Traykie’s one-hundred-sixty pound body impacted in the small area of the upper abdomen where he connected directly with his leading foot. The man flew several feet through the air before landing on top of the already downed magazine rack, sending more glossy covers sliding across the highly polished tile floor.

  The magazine rack under his hips, the manager’s head thumped on the tiled floor. The impact undoubtedly left the man with a concussion. Unconscious, the store manager was gasping for air.

  Another armed soldier arrived at the entrance behind the still shocked Chris. Both Chris and the second soldier remained frozen for a moment as they watched the writhing commotion on the floor of the small gift shop. Chris did not know exactly what had taken place, but he was ready to help. He just wasn’t sure who to fight. Seeing the still-anguished soldier on the floor with his hand cupping his precious jewels and identifying the man behind him as wearing the same uniform, Chris decided that he too must be an enemy.

  As the second soldier inquired, “What in bloody hell is going on here?” Chris lunged at the soldier, clinging to him like a monkey clinging to a vine above the jungle floor, and sunk his teeth into the man’s forearm. He was drawing blood, and looked like a vampire clinging to his prey. The man, who had been reaching for his handgun, quickly let go, occupied with trying to throw Chris to the floor. Traykie, seeing the predicament his younger brother had created, scrambled to his feet to come to the rescue.

  Chris had been shaken from the soldier’s body but had merely slid down, and firmly latched on to his right leg, and began biting the soldier’s upper thigh. As the man balanced himself on his free leg he prepared to kick Chris off with a knee to his small head. A split second before the full momentum of the soldier’s knee could connect with Chris, Traykie reacted. His foot shot out and connected with the man’s moving leg. The sudden stop to the forward momentum of the soldier’s leg caused it to overextend, almost breaking the man’s knee.

  The wobbly soldier still stood on the leg Chris was clinging to. Chris had slid down a few more inches and was no longer biting, just hanging on for all he was worth. Traykie withdrew his leg as Leo had taught him and re-extended it, swiftly connecting with the man’s upper groin. Still balancing on his left leg, he kicked his right leg forward once again into the toppling man’s stomach. As he prepared for yet another kick, aimed for the man’s face, the target fell to the ground.

  A small army of soldiers arrived at the entrance with guns raised. Traykie, still standing in a defensive fighting posture, realized that he was suddenly dramatically outnumbered. Besides, this time he had guns pointing at him. Another soldier had to physically remove the still fighting and biting Chris, who was the last one to surrender.

  The older soldier viewed the two downed soldiers, the coughing store manager, and the evident fingerprints left on the side of Sarah’s glowing cheek. He cleared his throat and spoke in a strong British accent,. “Looks like a bloody bomb went off. Anyone care to enlighten me as to what happened here?”

  Sarah and the boys were detained in the security office for over two hours. Formal charges were dropped as the last thing wanted by the South African Government was an international incident that sounded racial in nature. The soldier who uttered the derogatory terms would undoubtedly face his own consequences for the use of his unfortunate language choices. Sarah had to swallow her pride as well, as such an incident would certainly make a great news story and the whole point of going to Namibia was to stay out of the limelight. Not only was an election looming, but a world cup soccer championship was soon to be hosted in South Africa, and negative publicity would not be in the government’s best interest either. Sarah realized that she did not want her whereabouts to make international news, so both sides apologized for their lack of communication.

  The older soldier in charge kidded Traykie by handing him enlistment papers for the South African military. The family was finally released and guided directly to the plane they were boarding. The two escorting soldiers did not leave the family’s side until they were safely seated on the plane. From the plane’s window the boys could see the soldiers still standing near the gate entrance until their plane moved and they lost sight of them.

  Sarah was greatly relieved be aboard the plane and leave South Africa. She was so upset and nervous that she had made several escorted trips to the rest room in the twenty minutes they waited to board their flight. She was definitely shaken up and her cheek still stung. She realized how lucky they were that they had simply not been shot or sent to prison.

  The kids, on the other hand, were so excited they couldn’t stop talking about the encounter and could hardly wait to tell Grandma all about it when they would meet her at the airport in Windhoek. Sarah kept looking over her shoulder, afraid it might be overheard by the wrong people, and still blow up. She tried vainly to quiet her sons but that seemed impossible with their adrenaline coursing and their parts in the drama becoming larger and larger as they retold each other every unsavory moment.

  The flight from Pretoria to Windhoek seemed short after the long flight from the States and was mercifully uneventful. They arrived a full hour early. As usual, Traykie was hungry and dying to eat. They retrieved their bags and entered an upscale restaurant overlooking the runway. After ordering and receiving their food, Traykie asked the waiter for some ketchup, but was told they did not have any. He thought it would be hard to be stuck in a country so backwards that they didn’t even have ketchup. How would he survive?

  Sarah explained that some chefs in American restaurants were insulted if diners wanted ketchup. They felt it was an insult to their cuisine if they wanted to cover it with ketchup. While he was digesting the information he saw the same waiter taking what looked like ketchup to some other pat
rons at a nearby table.

  “Mom, that guy lied to me! He said they didn’t have ketchup.” In the next second he unexpectedly jumped up and rudely grabbed the bottle from the surprised neighboring patrons and confronted the waiter with it. “I thought you said that you didn’t have ketchup? What do you call this?”

  The waiter burst out laughing. “That my Yankee friend is tomato sauce. Why would you call it ‘catch up’?”

  Traykie looked at him skeptically, but could not come up with a good answer as to why Americans referred to tomato sauce as ketchup. He finally apologized to the surprised waiter and to the shocked patrons for his error. He shyly thanked the waiter when he later returned with another bottle of tomato sauce for their table. The boys had learned two good lessons that day about communication and cultural differences.

  Americans were usually so lackadaisical, thinking that everything in the world was just the way it was in the United States; not realizing that most other countries did not share all the freedoms and luxuries of which Americans have become so accustomed. Perhaps Americans were not necessarily always right and things were not always as they appeared. Traykie felt like he needed to think about things a bit more in the future before reacting. The trio finished their meal and walked down to the lower lobby to wait for Joyce to arrive.

  Chapter 25

  Joyce entered the terminal and immediately saw her family sitting at a bench near the entrance. She was in her late fifties with sun-bleached streaks of blondish hair mixing with her short brown cut. She looked good for her age. Sarah thought that she must have lost at least fifty pounds since she last saw her. Joyce was wearing her sunglasses on top of her head, partially holding her hair back from her face. She walked in with long strides but moved with grace and confidence. Her face opened to a huge smile when she saw her family and she quickly embraced the three in a giant bear hug.