Catching Kate (Scenic Route to Paradise) Read online

  Chapter 3 A Bee to Nectar

  Junior was a thin and wiry 14 year-old. He was streetwise. He had seen more than most adults in his short life. He had climbed aloft as the sloop was becalmed and the next port far enough away, that Mac was conserving fuel. Junior’s hair had gone blond in the Southern Hemisphere summer sun - his mohawk shaved months before; his skin was brown as shoe polish. Taking the rhinestone studs from his ears while still in Santa Fe, he now sported one gold hoop earring, pirate-like.

  The crows nest atop the mast was a small affair that no grown man would want to occupy. In truth, it was ornamental. This was an older boat and Mac fancied the Serendipity from first glance. There was a mainsail and a jib; a simple boat that slept six or seven if someone pulled out the trundle bed in the salon. The original owner had added the tiny crows nest and several other idiosyncrasies.

  Clinging, to the grab rails that trimmed the crows nest, Junior was like a pendulum. The mast went slowly to port and it seemed he would be able to touch the water if he stretched himself out. Then the snail paced swing moved to starboard as the mound of water plied under the boat.

  Mac had secured a dagger and a bottle of water to the mast inside the crows nest on their first days out to sea. Junior was the only one to habitually climb the mast and so Mac gave him instructions to leave the water and dagger untouched. These were for an emergency, Mac had told them all. Now, Junior eyed the dagger but he left it strapped to the mast inside a leather sleeve.

  He hadn’t gotten seasick, not like Merry or Tino, his cousin. Only Mac and Junior hadn’t gotten sick when they came out of the bay into rough sea. Junior remembered Zeff the drunken Mexican hadn’t gotten sick either. He was hung-over but not seasick. Even the so-called tidal waves hadn’t done anything to his stomach. Picturing the tsunami approach at dawn the morning of their departure was a huge let down for everyone but Mac and also, Zeff who slept, oblivious. The waves were big and fast but nothing like the movies and so Junior went to his bunk, disappointed.

  Today it was hot. Junior didn’t mind. He thought of how close he had come to relocating from Santa Fe, New Mexico to go north with a group of mostly women to live on a ranch in a valley along the Colorado border. He couldn’t grasp what that sort of life would be like but he knew it didn’t compare to being sidekick to Mac D’Almata. Mac was the brother he never had; the father he never knew and the mentor that any young man would follow.

  Tino Lucero, his cousin was ten years older. He was thick where Junior was thin. Tino was suppose to go north too with his half brother, Jack but Tino had been with Junior on a fool’s errand and they arrived hours after the others departed. Only the mustard-yellow four-by-four remained and when they saw it, both young men knew that Mac had not abandoned them. Tino’s sour grapes turned to sweet juice when he finally recognized the adventurous benefit in going with Mac.

  Mac for his part had planned to recruit a crew of at least two but hopefully four men when he arrived at Puerto Vallarta. Initially, he had been furious toward Tino and Junior for their lack of discipline and blatant tardiness but then he realized he could use them. Merry and Mac would be very vulnerable without them. Family members or trustworthy friends were an immense survival defense in times of war or social upheaval.

  Counting Zeff or José as they originally had named the rescued fellow from certain death by drowning, Mac had three deckhands and Merry.

  Joseph Zeferano had never been called José. He had been called Joey, Joseph, Joe, Zeffie and finally just Zeff but never José. When he awoke on a strange boat out to sea, he inadvertently assumed kidnapping for a ransom but then he changed his mind. These guys just wanted another crew member and they picked me. He was young and big; an inch and fifty pounds larger than Mac. He was apparently healthy and walking the wharf - so they nabbed him. His father had told Zeff that down south, Puerto Escondido was experiencing crew impressment and also, across the bay at Cabo but Puerto Vallarta, no.

  Deciding to play dumb until they reached a viable port where he could get a call back to his parents, Zeff went along as a Spanish speaking grunt. After all he was Mexican and he spoke Spanish fluently unlike his crew mates. The captain spoke several languages including, Portuguese but not Spanish. The Mrs. spoke the most Spanish and so he conversed with her when he spoke at all. Zeff spoke English fluently and French conversationally but he chose not to disclose this information. After a few days, Zeff realized that they had not impressed him into service but they had rescued him. They were in the galley having dinner when Mac mentioned to Merry that Zeff looked totally recovered. The others looked to him but Merry’s eyes lit up.

  Merry had said in Spanish, “You feel better? Yes?”

  In spite of the butterflied gash at his hairline, Zeff replied he felt fully recovered, Merry and Mac began to discuss the incident between themselves over their meal while he listened. Watching the beat down aloft that night, Junior added his perspective.

  Zeff had had his doubts about his impressment but he couldn’t figure out any other solution.

  This trip was so different than any other cruise he had taken. In the past, his father had made the whole family miserable when they traveled using their yacht and he was never expected to do anything. On this boat, Mac had him working and “learning” English for the various nautical terms used aboard.

  Tino and Junior were unlearned but not ignorant. He played board games – found in the salon and poker with them on a regular basis. When he overheard Merry bemoan the fact that no one aboard played Bridge - Zeff kept silent.

  Zeff’s favorite pass-time was watching the newlyweds interact. At first, he found it strangely uncomfortable; their bantering, their talk, their smooching. He would walk away or look away but it was a small boat.

  Zeff had taken three years of medical school and that included running a gauntlet of psych courses. Analyzing himself, he recognized with a wry smile that he had been ill at ease with Mac and Merry’s leisurely love language because it was absolutely foreign to him. Oh, he was fluent in Spanish and English and he had taken 8 years of French but Zeff did not know this language of love. In his 31 years, Zeff had never seen a newly married couple interact so harmoniously before. Being in love was a supernatural high, he understood. He had been in love at least a dozen times. What Zeff observed in Mac and Merry was different and so like a bee to nectar, he was drawn to the couple watching, listening and grinning inwardly at their frivolity.

  Realizing, Tino and Junior were just as affected by the love doves, Zeff felt little compunction at his artless intrusion.

  Chapter 4 Darn it, Durban

  The end of the season inventory and seasonal clean-up kept the Van der Klerks, their staff and Kate Merriweather busy until almost July. This year the family planned to travel to Durban as they had for the last three years for holiday once the safari camp was shut-down until the rainy season passed. They had family there and Kate had several childhood friends she planned to contact.

  Kate’s cell phone worked in Durban although she couldn’t connect overseas. Her friend, Lara had been expecting her back in early April. When Kate called her in July, surprised Lara gave Allan Van der Klerk directions telling Kate she would be home from work about 5:30. Kate said her farewells to the family, hugging the little boys fiercely.

  July 7th

  Lara was ‘oh-so-surprised’ to see me! She hasn’t changed a bit. She looks great and took my belated arrival in stride. Her long black hair is now cut about her ears... very professional looking and now that she is living away from her parents, she is wearing make-up. It’s about time! She thought I had been caught up in the American fiasco and that is why I didn’t show-up back in April... and I didn’t call.

  Anyway, I said my adieus to the Van der Klerks this afternoon. We all cried, even rough and tough Allan. After paying my lodging bill with them, my 3 months of work got me 650 Rand ahead... Before the US dollar fell, 650 Rand would have been about $100. My funds don’t look great and so what to do? I’ve pra
yed but God is busy helping those poor souls in America right now, I’m sure. They are all praying now... even if they weren’t calling on God before the disasters.

  I’m caught between feeling very grateful that I am not in Flag living in chaos, with the thoughts of “why me, Lord?” I am in a foreign land that is not exactly friendly to freeloaders as there is an abundant supply of them here already. Friends and family are really hospitable but I have no family here anymore and my friends have become just acquaintances as time and distance have made them so. Yes, I have kept in contact but I’ve been away ten long years!

  God, I came here... back to my old stomping grounds to find you afresh. Where are you?

  Lara Vashuva was a third generation Indian. She had met Kate in church when the Merriweather family had come to Durban to help another American missionary family get started. Ten years ago the missionary work became fully indigenized and now there were South Africans running it. Lara had been converted at the mission as a teen and she still attended the church services. She was busy courting one of the men at the church. From afar, Kate had heard all about him.

  Their missionary friends had pioneered three Durban churches and Kate planned to visit each one.

  After the Sunday morning service, Lara and Kate walked across the street to a local restaurant. They ordered and Kate hoped it would be as good as she remembered it. Her father had loved eating here but Kate didn’t recall the place being so unsanitary.

  “Lara, Vasham seems like a great guy,” Kate said. “I am really happy for you.” They had recently set the wedding ceremony at Christmas time, the holiday season. Lara would 32 years old when she got married. Getting married in the late 20’s or early 30’s was not unusual in South Africa. They planned their weddings extensively and many non Christians had to pay a bride price to the bride’s parents which could be very costly, especially if the daughter was well educated. That could take years of saving.

  They chit-chatted but Kate finally got around to telling Lara her problems. “What am I going to do? I don’t have a lot of money and I’m positive I shouldn’t even try to go back to the States. I could go to D’Almata but travel costs have skyrocketed... Traveling to D’Almata was already expensive because there is no direct flight and then there is a train ride and a ferry and then a boat rental,” Kate said wiping her tears and nose with the tissue Lara provided.

  Lara responded with, “Quite a dilemma. I suppose you’ll have to get a job here and save your Rand.” Kate nodded, knowing that South Africa paid very little and the cost of living, especially the cost of security was high. It was decided that Kate would room with Lara for the time being and call her childhood friends in hopes of finding employment.

  Kate did call her friends even her old high school sweetheart in Cape Town, Eustace Botha or Stacy as he was called. She had kept in contact with him over the years and when he married after college, Kate wasn’t surprised to find he married a mutual friend of theirs from the school they attended.

  Stacy’s parents had inherited a substantial vineyard just outside of Cape Town. Stacy did very well in the family business but not so well in managing his own family affairs. Last year, his wife and he divorced; she got the baby and he got the dog.

  America’s troubles affected economies worldwide. Stacy’s family vineyard was no exception. All their sales were to the United States but about 5% that was sold locally. So no, he didn’t have suitable employment for her but he was glad to hear from her and quite sorry about her nation’s demise, etcetera.

  It was the fourth week she was living with Lara and quite depressed over her problems when Kate decided to visit her parents’ friends in downtown Durban. The Dawsons were actually Australian but had migrated to South Africa in the early 1990’s. Starting a church in Durban proper, it had flourished and grown under their loving care. Kate didn’t have their phone number but decided to surprise them by popping in at their Sunday morning service. Lara assured her that they still ministered at the church although they were nearing 80 years of age. Borrowing Lara’s car, Kate headed downtown. Durban, center city can be a dangerous place, especially during elections with rioting and social marches but it was Sunday morning and quiet.

  The service had begun. Kate could hear the lively singing as she approached the door. The ushers greeted her and seated her near the back. South Africans love Sunday morning worship. There was a crowd of a few hundred, maybe three hundred people. The building looked the same, only fuller and fresh paint but the pastor on the platform wasn’t Stephen Dawson.

  Kate had been going to several different churches in Flagstaff trying to settle-in at first one than another. When Merry had been her roommate, Kate went with her to church but she never called Merry’s church her own. Sometimes she would go to a mega church in Phoenix with her friends who lived there and she found the messages always helped her. Still, Kate knew that attending church was about being a member of the Body of Christ. It had been a number of years since she considered herself a genuine part of His Body. She sincerely hoped she hadn’t become a toenail and was about to be trimmed and discarded.

  Kate was moral although she dallied in the grey areas of life, always pushing her limits of morality. Daily Kate read her Bible and prayed too but she noticed that the joy, the calm and the presence of God seemed to diminish as time went on. In the back of her mind, alarms were going off but in comparison to her other Christian friends, she was a stellar Bible thumper.

  After service that morning, Elsie Dawson not looking a day over 75, came towards Kate to shake her hand. Smiling wide, Kate understood that Sister Dawson recognized her.

  “What! Oh, this is a surprise,” Elsie was saying when suddenly a look of recognition overtook her. “Oh, oh my! Don’t tell me - Kate Merriweather! I thought you were Merry!” Kate was annoyed as Merry looked nothing like Kate, according to both sisters. She hugged Elsie anyway.

  Tears sprung to her eyes because Elsie was so motherly and Kate was missing her own mother, Toni.

  “No,” sniffled Kate. “I haven’t heard from Merry since March just before I left the States to come over here.”

  “Oh?” Elsie’s voice was squeaky from age and soothingly mellow because of her Australian accent. She pulled Kate to a pew and patted the seat next to her. Pulling another, tissue from her own small purse, Elise handed it Kate. She said, “Well, Merry told me you were safe and sound on a small island in the Adriatic Sea with my good friend, Toni... I saw Merry right here in this very church just last week... on Sunday!”

  Kate thought she was going to faint. She wasn’t a fainter but she decided, this bit of news just might do it. She began to wave the damp tissues in front of her face. Grabbing Elsie’s hand she squeezed until the older woman winced. Kate put her head between her legs which looked quite ridiculous as she was wearing a Khaki skirt. After a minute or more, she looked up at Elsie. “You’re sure? Then, where is she?” she asked.

  Elsie fished around in her reticule for another tissue. “Here, you’re going to need this dear,” she told Kate.

  The church was emptying and by the time Elsie finished the women seated on the back pew were the only two remaining. Elsie began by retrieving her cell phone from inside her bra, showing Kate the snapshots she took of Merry.

  There was Merry wearing a wrap-around skirt and cowboy boots with a white button-down blouse and blue sweater. Her hair was down and she was as brown as a nut, smiling. The second shot was the similar but a close-up with two unfamiliar faces included.

  Kate was crying uncontrollably until she saw the others. Abruptly, she stopped crying. “Who are they? Who are these guys?” Merry always had quite a few guys hanging about like a school of fish; where she went, they went.

  Sister Dawson explained that Merry had escaped the social upheaval and military confusion going on in the United States, including martial law by fleeing with her new husband and sailing from Mexico. “But she told me how she had initially regretted not taking your advice by traveling with
you. She sincerely thinks you have come and gone from South Africa and are in D’Almata already. She cried for twenty minutes - just like you!” insisted Elsie, her voice cracking in emphasis. “Their ship’s engine broke down off the coast of Madagascar and they sailed into Durban hoping to find parts,” Elsie said.

  “Just last week?” Kate was incredulous. “This is South Africa... The parts may take weeks to arrive! What else? Do you think they are still here?”

  Elsie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. That is why I was so surprised when I saw you but of course, you two don’t look that much alike, now do you?” Kate shook her head and Elsie continued telling her about Merry’s visit.

  “We had such a nice time. She came back to our house for lunch and those young men... so handsome and polite. The big fellow doesn’t speak any English though... still very courteous. His manners were superb. In spite of everything, Merry seems quite happy.”

  Of course, that would be her new husband, thought Kate. Kate sighed. Elsie was still speaking, “So, they were planning on leaving Monday without some of the parts but you know they are stopping in Cape Town to pick up something really essential. Merry told me that they decided to do this rather than wait to have it shipped from Cape Town. In this wonderful country, it makes sense.”

  “Cape Town? Did she leave you her cell phone number? I tried calling her old one but... but nothing,” Kate asked as she jumped up from the pew and began to hop around as only Kate did when she was really excited about something or other; Kate’s victory dance.

  “Oh, you’re just the same! Look at you! You’re all grown up but you used to prance around like that when we were going to the beach or anywhere really fun... Look at you!” Elsie’s eyes sparkled as she watched Kate skip about.