Rendezvous With the Fat Man

by Gail Sherman Jones

  The wandering, nomadic Indians who traveled through the jungle and surrounding territory were perfect suppliers for the smoked meat goods. They spent most of their time hunting and smoking armadillo and jabali which were so prevalent in the area. The Fat Man gladly bought some of their fresh meat for a few pesos to display for the local inspectors.

  Jan took lots of photos of the Indians and was astonished that they were still primitive in these modern times. None of them had ever seen a gun before, so Papi took pride in showing them his weapons and how they worked. Even without guns, the Indians were excellent hunters and had stockpiled huge mounds of smoked jabali and several hundred armadillo carcasses.

  Once the bargaining had been completed, the Jeep was packed with an assortment of the smoked meats. They continued their jaunt down the dirt road, bouncing along until they reached the main highway and drove the rest of the way more comfortably into Santa Cruz. Upon arriving at the checkpoint on the outskirts of town, a guard approached their vehicle and made a visual inspection of the interior. Jan and Karen made sure their faces were turned away.

  “Where are you coming from?” the guard asked.

  “Hunting,” Papi responded.

  Papi lifted the tops of several plastic containers revealing the smoked meat and animal carcasses. The guard glanced inside, then nodded and waved for the Jeep to continue down the road. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The checkpoints thereafter only waved them on.

  Jan and Karen were dropped off in front of the Holiday Inn, dirty and exhausted from spending five days in the jungle. They were quite a sight when they walked up to the front desk, attracting a few unwanted stares. Jan confirmed to the clerk that they were checking out the next day.

  After returning to their room, Jan immediately scolded Karen for her immature, flirtatious behavior. Of course, Karen tearfully denied it all. But Jan felt much better after giving her a well-deserved tongue lashing, releasing the tension and anger she felt from the beginning of the trip.

  They unpacked their bags and surveyed their dirty faces and bodies in the mirror. “I feel so gross,” Jan said. “Since I did most of the work in the camp and you acted like an asshole, I get to take a shower first and wash off this jungle grunge.”

  “I get it. You’re punishing me,” Karen acquiesced. “This is the longest I’ve ever gone without a shower, so waiting a little longer isn’t gonna kill me. But I can’t wait for this trip to be over so I can sleep in my own bed.”

  “It’ll be over when we clear U.S. Customs and don’t you forget it,” Jan reminded her. Karen sat on the bed pondering Jan’s words.

  They left Santa Cruz the next morning. Jan carried the cosmetic case with the concealed coke in the bottom on the trip to Buenos Aires. She felt it would be better to trust Karen with it only for the final leg of their journey. Their week stay in Buenos Aires was uneventful before flying back to the United States.

  After arriving at Los Angeles International Airport, Jan followed Karen to the U.S. Customs area, purposely staying at the end of the line to watch her carrying the cosmetic case. Karen was a nervous wreck but attempted to look calm by smiling. She reached customs inspectors, handed over her passport with the Argentine customs stamp and other travel documents, then waited for their questions.

  “Do you have anything to declare? Souvenirs, meats, fruits, vegetables, or plants?” the inspector routinely asked.

  “None,” Karen responded.

  “What countries did you visit?” he asked.

  “Buenos Aires for a vacation,” Karen replied.

  Karen placed her suitcase and Jan’s cosmetic case on the examination table. The officer ran his hands through her belongings and compartments in her baggage then moved on to inspect the cosmetic case. He lifted the top plastic compartment full of lipsticks and moisture creams and proceeded to empty everything out of the bottom of the case. Karen felt a shiver run down her spine as the inspector ran his hand around the interior.

  To her amazement, he placed everything back into the cosmetic case, stamped her passport and waved her on to exit the area. Karen peeked from the corner of her eye and saw Jan at the end of the line witnessing her successful inspection. She was elated to clear customs and finally be able to walk out of the terminal to wait for Jan. The heavy stress load of being a mule had now been lifted off her shoulders.

  Jan, however, was not so lucky. She was led to a small room for a random, arbitrary search, asked where she had been and for how long and if she had brought back any contraband. Her passport and luggage tags were inspected, baggage searched, and then was asked the same questions over and over again, in a different order. Her questioning felt like a very long time, but eventually she was dismissed with no explanation.

  Once Jan exited the terminal, Karen spotted her and walked by, discreetly handing off the cosmetic case. She nodded her head towards Jan confirming a successful trip, than turned towards the street to flag down a taxi to drop her off at Hawaiian Air Lines to fly back to Honolulu.

  Needless to say, Jan was glad the trip was over, as well as her friendship with Karen. She would never have to deal with her again, except to wire the money earned from the trip. Another lesson learned; Jan resolved to be much more careful when choosing another mule for any future cocaine purchases.

  Easier said than done.

  Chapter 8 — Sisterhood?? Reconnection??

  After returning from her jungle adventure with the Fat Man, Jan settled back into the LA groove. Luckily, it didn’t take long for word to spread among her friends in the Hollywood entertainment scene that she had brought back some dynamite coke. Within one month she sold her entire stash and made enough money to continue supporting her expensive travel lifestyle jaunting around the world for the next several years.

  At this time, Jan’s older sister Gail had called her in an attempt to reconnect since they hadn’t seen each other in five years. As kids, they had fought constantly, and the sibling rivalry continued in Jan’s mind well into adulthood. She resented her parents always comparing her to Gail as she was growing up and she never let it go. Gail had hoped that an invitation to stay at her home for a couple days would break the ice and restore their sisterhood, and hopefully they could begin to develop a close, loving relationship.

  Jan agreed to fly up to San Francisco on a weekend when Gail was not working as a junior high school Spanish and social studies teacher. Gail was anxious to see her sister and discover if she had mellowed over their years of separation. Most important, she wanted to know if Jan still felt any animosity towards her for being the favored older sister, which was no fault of her own. She hoped her cottage home in Atherton, located on an acre and half pear orchard, would be the perfect environment for their bonding experience.

  On a beautiful spring afternoon, Jan arrived at San Francisco International Airport to begin her long, overdue visit with Gail. She carried her suitcase out of the baggage area looking for Gail’s car in the passenger waiting zone, finally spotting it slowly approaching the curb. Jan’s eyes lit up when she saw her sister drive up in a brand new aqua blue, 1978 Datsun 280Z sports car. Gail got out and greeted her with a big hug. Jan tolerated the display of affection, but was clearly more interested in Gail’s car.

  “Oh my God! Is this your car?” Jan asked.

  “My car is my baby; four speed stick shift and custom chrome Tru-Spoke rims.” She grabbed Jan’s suitcase and put it in the rear hatch area. As Gail drove out of the airport terminal, she turned on the cassette player and popped in a custom recorded Miles Davis cassette tape, prepping the mood for the half hour drive south to Atherton.

  “How can you listen to that stuff? Play some R & B at least,” Jan complained. She reached for the cassette player to switch it to an FM stereo radio channel but Gail blocked her hand with her own.

  “Don’t you dare change it. You know I’ve always been a jazz aficionado. I’ll play some R &
B later. I can’t believe you don’t love this tune ‘Freddie Freeloader.’ It’s hip, intelligent music and grabs my soul,” Gail professed.

  Jan glared at her sister. The old rivalries were flaring up. “Well, it doesn’t grab me at all,” Jan answered.

  “What the hell are you doing? You’re in my space. If I was in your car, I wouldn’t ask you to change your music whether I liked it or not. That’s fuckin’ rude,” Gail countered.

  “If you had any respect for me as your sister, who you haven’t seen in years, you’d let me listen to the music I want to hear,” Jan replied.

  “Why don’t you respect me and listen to my music?” Gail responded.

  Jan gave her the middle finger. “Fuck you!!” she blurted out. Gail laughed but Jan was dead serious.

  This was not the way Gail had envisioned the beginning of their reunion. No matter how much she tried to spark up a conversation with Jan, there was no response. An awkward silence prevailed while Miles Davis tunes continued to play all the way to Gail’s cottage.

  Upon arriving to the front of her property, she exited the car and opened the wrought iron gates to drive down the hundred-yard-long paved driveway leading to her home. Jan wasn’t expecting to see such a large property covered with mature pear trees. After Gail parked in the garage, Jan looked undecided as she climbed out of the car. She finally broke the silence that she maintained since leaving the airport.

  “I hope you weren’t expecting free labor out of this visit. I don’t pick pears,” Jan said.

  “I wondered how long it would take for you to speak to me. Of course I’m not going to make you pick any pears. They’re not ripe to eat until August anyway.”

  Gail pulled Jan’s suitcase out of the car and led her inside to a small living room, then gave her a quick tour of her eleven hundred square foot, two-bedroom, one-bath abode built in 1923. One of the small bedrooms was turned into a den and the kitchen still had the original appliances from the 1950s. Gail had purchased the home from the widow of the original owner.

  “So what do you think of my place?” Gail asked.

  “It’s not quite my style, but it’s okay,” Jan responded.

  “Well, this is our vacation for the next two days. Just us sisters. I wish we could spend more time together, but a weekend is better than nothing. Let’s not argue anymore,” Gail requested.

  “I didn’t start the argument. You did,” Jan countered.

  “Okay, Jan. If you have to have the last word and just to make you happy, I’ll concede that I started the whole fiasco.”

  “Great. Now we can start our vacation with a clean slate,” Jan responded.

  They sat down together on the couch and Gail grabbed her weed stash box off the coffee table. She pulled out a Jamaican ganja joint specially rolled for Jan’s visit. They lit up and kicked back to enjoy the high together, unwind, and chill out.

  “A friend of mine brought this ganja back from Kingston, Jamaica. It’s a nice change from the Mexican stuff,” Gail informed her.

  “It’s outta sight,” Jan responded as she exhaled the marijuana smoke. She unzipped her purse and pulled out a joint and souvenir gift from Peru.

  “Cool. I always love to try different weed,” Gail gushed.

  “I traded this lid of Hawaiian Maui Waui in exchange for some of my coke with a movie producer friend of mine,” Jan said.

  “You know a lot of movie industry people?” Gail asked.

  “Movie industry, music industry, sports world. Remember when I was doing rock concert promoting, TV commercials, and stunt work before I moved to Ibiza? I was in my late teens, early twenties. Well, I stayed in touch with all my contacts in ‘Hollyweird’ who are big time stoners. I can score weed with them any time I want.”

  “You snort coke now?” Gail inquired.

  “Yeah, I do it every now and then.” Jan had never told Gail about smuggling cocaine and preferred not to reveal her secret double life at that moment. Maybe in the near future she could trust Gail enough not to tell their parents.

  “I’ve never tried it before. I don’t know anybody who does it,” Gail responded.

  “Well, if you ever want any, let me know and I can score it for you,” Jan offered.

  “I’m fine with weed. You get an instant high, there’s no hangover, and you don’t gain any weight smoking it.”

  “To each his own,” Jan said.

  “By the way, what’s that thing you pulled out of your purse?”

  “I brought this for you from Peru. It’s for protection,” Jan said as she handed it to Gail.

  “Trippy looking. Can you tell me more about it?”

  “It’s called a sullu, a dried llama fetus,” Jan said with a sarcastic smile.

  Gail gently put the sullu back down on the coffee table and wiped her hands with a napkin.

  “Not so cool. Do you think it works?”

  “It must be working. I haven’t had a boredom attack being out here,” Jan snidely remarked. She laughed at her own comment, but Gail didn’t think it was funny.

  “It’s not all bad. I enjoy my life here. It’s quiet and peaceful. After teaching one hundred fifty kids all day, I can’t wait to get home and de-stress in my pear orchard.”

  Jan feigned snoring. “Traveling around the world is so much more exciting. Better than teaching in a classroom.”

  “Maybe so. It’s not a high paying job, but if you can change somebody’s life and make them a better educated person, that’s what it’s all about. I find it rewarding to expose young minds to other cultures, teaching them about what’s going on in the world. They don’t have a clue about life outside their home town. It’s pretty pathetic and sad. That’s why I like to read your letters to my class and share the souvenirs you sent me. It makes my lessons more interesting for them to learn the travel opportunities available and the adventures that follow.”

  “Aside from your teaching career, are you glad you’re divorced now?” Jan asked.

  “It wasn’t meant to be,” Gail reflected.

  “Like I’ve told you for years, marriage is unnatural and conventional life is boring. I don’t know how you tolerated it,” Jan adamantly stated.

  “My ex-husband was a great guy, but I married too young. He wanted to start a family, but I wasn’t interested in having a kid at that time. It was really important to him and I didn’t want to deny him that opportunity. But I do regret my decision to divorce him.”

  “Why do you regret it?” Jan inquired.

  “Because I’m realizing that I may never find another good man like him in the future. Isn’t that the way life is? You learn you had a good thing after you’ve lost it or gave it away. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. He’s since remarried and has a child.”

  “Well, I just love being a free-spirit and independent. I can do what I want, whenever I want, and I don’t have to take care of or be beholden to a guy,” Jan bragged.

  “But don’t you get lonely? Don’t you want to share your experiences together with a companion or boyfriend?” Gail asked.

  “I don’t know if there’s a man out there who could handle me,” Jan admitted.

  “As I get older, I’m beginning to think that way about myself as well,” Gail shared.

  “Well, at least we have something in common at this age. Hey, I’m really tired. I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Jan responded.

  “As a favor from your big sister, I prepared my bed for you and I’m gonna sleep on the couch in the living room.”

  “That’s the least you could do as a payback for all those years you taunted me when we were little,” Jan reminded Gail.

  “I can’t believe you’re talking about this. I don’t even remember that far back. Shit, we were little kids, dammit. Get over it,” Gail complained.

  Jan got up and headed to the bedroom. She d
idn’t want to hear the truth from the sister she had always resented. Without saying good night, she closed the door, abruptly ending their conversation for the evening.

  The next morning, Gail quietly opened the bedroom door to rouse a sleeping Jan. “Hey, sis. Company’s here.”

  Jan pulled herself upright. “Company? What company?”

  “Just some friends of mine. They’ve been dying to meet you after hearing about all your world travels.”

  Jan made a face and fell back into the bed, covering her head with the blanket. “I wanted to sleep in this morning. I’ll meet them later,” Jan complained.

  “You can’t sleep all day. You’re leaving tomorrow night and I’ve planned so many things for us to do together during your short visit. Get dressed. We’re having a picnic in the orchard,” Gail responded. She left the room to prepare the picnic basket with tuna sandwiches, potato chips, sodas, chocolate brownies, and pears.

  Jan reached into her purse and pulled out her coke spoon and a vial of cocaine. She took a quick snort and dragged herself out of bed, not in the best mood to meet anybody.

  Gail’s friends, Barbara and George and their two year old daughter Ivy, were sitting on a blanket in the pear orchard as Gail passed around the sandwiches. Jan lumbered toward them, still burnt out from smoking too much weed the night before, compounded by a new buzz this morning. It was obvious she was not interested in participating.

  “Barbara, George, this is my globetrotting sister, Jan.”

  Jan attempted to smile, but it appeared more like a sneer.

  “This is their two year old daughter, Ivy. Isn’t she cute?”

  “Uhh, yeah. Sorry, I’m not ready. My sister didn’t tell me we were expecting company today,” Jan remarked.

  “Blame us entirely for that. When we heard you were coming, we just had to meet you since you’re only visiting this weekend,” Barbara said.

  “Your sister talks about you all time. She read us your letters about when you almost died on a safari in the Sahara Desert and when you climbed Mount Kilimanjaro,” George added.