In Places on the Run Ch. 01

The kid yanked it back out of her hands and told her to 'fuck off', then stood and took a swing at her face. I was already up and hooked his arm in the crook of my elbow, and Sam had the kid in a snot-lock by the time I twisted him around.

"Who the fuck are you?" the companion-cretin said at this point, taking time to add that they were both in law school and would 'sue our fucking asses off' as soon as they got home.

I think I told cretin number two my name was Roger Ramjet, and to be sure to bring the pictures to court, while Sam said something about the likelihood of their becoming lawyers after this was presented to any bar association in the country. Rhea put the camera in the overhead, then turned to me and asked me to follow her back to the galley.

"Anders?" she asked. "Captain Anders? Is that you?"

"Guilty as charged, darlin'."

"I thought so, but I couldn't tell for sure. Thanks for lending a hand. I'll need to fill out a report, and I'll need your help with that."

"No problano," I said more casually than I felt.

"Have you lost weight?" she asked.

"A little," I tried to smile, but that's never a good question to ask someone contemplating cancer.

"Wow, you're looking good!"

"Yeah? It's that new pizza and ice cream diet I started last month. You know, the Fat Beach diet..."

She laughed, pointed at her midsection and nodded agreement. "I know it well," she said.

"You're looking great," I said, and she blushed a little.

"You going to Munich," she replied.

"In a way," I began, then I filled her in on Sam's idea of crazy.

"You are crazy!" she said as she laughed. "Did you quit flying?"

"Retired, I think, is the politically correct terminology these days. American doesn't fly L-tens, and doesn't want to train us old farts, so they bought us out instead."

"Me too, I guess. I couldn't reach the target weight by the deadline, so I got pink-slipped two weeks ago. This is my last go round."

"Sheesh," I think I managed to say. "How many years?"

"Eight."

"I'm officially out next month, mid-August. Just using up accrued vacation time now. Listen, you staying out at the Marriott?"

"Yes indeedy. Why?"

"We have a couple of rooms at the Bayerischer hof, and are planning to tear down the Hofbräuhaus tonight. Why don't you join us?"

"John, I can't afford that. Wish I could, though. Sounds fun."

"Afford what?"

"A room there, for one thing."

"I'll get you back to the Marriott, and if you're too toasted for that, I'll take the sofa."

So, there it was. Sometimes life turns on an impulse.

And then she said "You're no fun," and yeah, there it was again, all falling down right there in front of me.

"Well, alright then," I said with my widest grin flashing away like a neon light. "Why don't you get back to it. Let me know when you need me to fill out that paperwork, and we'll work out all the rest on the ground."

She came to me then and hugged me, said something about me being a lifesaver then melted back into the galley. I went back to my seat, intending to fill in the details for Sam, but I found him with his seat reclined, eyes closed, and a nineteen year old hand under his blanket pumping up and down like a West Texas oil well.

+++++

I hung around outside Customs waiting for Rhea, but when she hadn't shown up after a half hour I was about to hang it up and grab the U-bahn into the city. I'd just grabbed my duffels when I heard her calling my name, and I turned to see a red-faced, very distraught gal headed my way.

"I think they were going to fire me right there," she said when she'd caught her breath. "Only thing that saved my fat ass was your version of events. Thank God you were there!"

I leaned over and looked at her undercarriage. "Your ass ain't fat, darlin'. Far from it," I said as I looked at her legs.

"You're incorrigible," she said, grinning.

"And you're so cute it makes me weak in the knees." Point, game, match. Bigger grin, too.

She leaned into me and hit me with a kiss. A little tongue hit my lips, and it was like an electric shock opened me up. She pulled away after an hour or three, then looked me in the eye. "We'd better do something about that stiffness, don't you think?"

"You do that to me again and we'll be married by noon."

"Why don't you wait until you've seen me without my clothes on."

"Because I don't need to, darlin'. Now, let's go find a taxi."

+++++

Jet lag took care of the rest of that morning, and we napped 'til noon then walked the seven blocks to the Hofbräuhaus. Sam and his nymphette promised to uncouple long enough to join us in a few hours, but he winked at me as I pulled their door to. And I was going to head off around the world with this lunatic...

It had been a few years, to say the least, but I've always liked the simple atmosphere inside the Hofbräuhaus. The beer's always decent enough, the food workingman simple -- hearty and good. A few years after I started with TWA back in the 70s, I'd been FO on 727s flying from Munich to West Berlin for a few years, and had shared an apartment near the university with three other pilots. I loved this city as a result of many wild nights there, and felt more at home here than I had in LA or Boston. My German had held up over the years too, and like everywhere else I've traveled the locals warm up to you quicker if you make an effort to speak the local lingua. Being near fluent almost makes you family, however, and as a result I'd really enjoyed my time in Bavaria. The girls in München are something else, too.

So Rhea and I settled in and ordered sausages and pretzels and enough beer to kill of a few dozen Marines, and before our food arrived at the table in walked Sam. Alone, too.

"Well, that was quick," I think I said. "Why don't you grab a litre and stick your dick in. You might be able to reload that thing quicker."

"No need. She's gone."

"Gone?" Rhea asked.

"Yup. Flown home to mommy."

"Nice, dedicated gal, I see." Actually, I think I did. "What did her in?"

"My dick," Sam replied with a wink.

"Remind me," I said to Rhea, "to tell you about his dick someday. King Kong ain't in it with this guy."

"No wonder she ran," Rhea laughed nervously.

"Y'all ordered food?" Sam asked, apparently too hungry to be upset.

"Wurst, kraut and pretzels," I said in kind.

"White ones, or the pink kind?"

"Every kind, I think," Rhea said as our waiter set a platter of sausages down on the table, along with huge bowls of hot potato salad and red cabbage. "Jesus!" she said as she took in the heaping platter.

"You better grab a stein, buddy, if you plan to keep up with us," I said as Sam grabbed a plate and loaded it up. He asked the waiter for a two liter stein, and the old fella rolled his eyes as he walked off.

"They got apple strudel here?" Sam asked.

"Count on it, slick."

"Any good?"

"If you've just come from America it'll be better than anything you've ever had. By local standards, it's decent."

"That's right. You lived here once upon a time..."

"You did?" Rhea asked. "When?"

"Late 70s. Munich, Berlin, Hamburg and back."

"Ooh, that must've been exciting."

"You're exciting," I said as I looked into her eyes. "Berlin was fun."

Rhea blushed again.

"What's going on here," Sam said. "Do I smell love in the air?"

"You smell sausage and mustard in the air, Sam. And the sauerkraut you smell is, well, it's the sauerkraut in your mustache."

"Damn, this is good grub," he said as he picked the kraut off his upper lip.

"It ain't LA," I shot back, glad to be back and feeling better by the minute.

"Amen to that," Rhea said.

"Oh no, you ain't going to go all Jesus freak on us, are you?"

Rhea smiled and leaned back in her chair. "Doubtful," she said, grinning.

"So, you known Anders long?"

"A few years, back in the day, right John?"

"Something like that," I said as I put two more death bombs on my plate, then another heap of potato salad.

"You're not eating enough, John. Better take some of that red shit, and another one of those dildos."

"Plate's not big enough, Sam. And remember, He Who Stuffeth, Puffeth."

"I'm planning on puffing a lot, then."

"Are you two trying to kill yourselves," Rhea asked, grinning.

"Not with food, sweetheart'," Sam replied as he quaffed half his stein. "We're gonna use internal combustion engines for that trick."

"You picking up your bikes here?" she asked.

"Yup, at the factory."

"Beemers?"

"Yup."

"Then what?"

"We're taking an organized tour down to Greece," Sam began, "along the Croatian coast for a ways, then on to Athens. Then we're on our own to Istanbul. I guess we'll see what routes look good after that."

"You're seriously considering going to India? Overland?"

"Yup. No major wars in the region, now that the Russians are out of the picture."

"Iran?"

"We'll probably skirt north of there. Maybe try to cut through Afghanistan to Kashmir, then through India to Nepal."

"You guys are nuts, but it sounds like the trip of a lifetime...provided you can pull it off."

"You oughta come with us," Sam said, and Rhea laughed out loud.

"No way, Jay. Not this white girl."

"What are you going to do when you get back," I asked.

"Oh, Delta or United, I guess. They're both hiring."

"Shit, you get a pink slip too?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"You like it?" Sam asked. "The work, I mean."

"Once you get used to it. It's even fun every now and then."

"You look like a nurse," he said. "Compassionate eyes."

"You know, she does," I remember saying.

"Funny. That's kinda what I started to do," she said, "back in college. But TWA was recruiting on campus and I signed on the dotted line."

"So? Go back to school."

She chuckled. "Too much dinero, Sam. And I'm too old."

"You gotta be kidding. What are you, like thirty, thirty two?"

"Thirty."

"Oh, yeah. You're fucking ancient, that's what you are."

We laughed, but I could see gears and levers working up there in her head. We plowed through the platters of food, drank way too much 'weissbier', old German guys came by and flirted with Rhea -- who loved every minute of it, then we had strudel and coffee before walking back to the hotel. Sam went looking for hookers, so I took Rhea downstairs to Trader Vic's and we each had a couple of Suffering Bastards. We were by then well and truly bombed out of our minds, and held on to the walls all the way back to the room.

I don't know how many years it'd been since I'd had sex with a woman as well put together as Rhea, but it was fun for a while, then things got real serious, real quick. All of a sudden we were making love, not having sex, and soon our eyes were locked in deep conversation.

"Okay John. No clothes on now. You still wanna marry my fat ass?"

"Turn over."

She turned over, her glorious cheeks basking in the moonlight.

I took them in hand and leaned close... "Okay, ass," I began. "What'll it be? You think an ass like you could live with an old prick like me? You wanna get married, or what?"

She was out of control at that point, laughing so hard she started to pee, so she dashed for the toilet, a little stream trickling on the carpet in her wake. I heard laughing for a while, then came the tears I knew were just waiting for her in the darkness, so in I went there too. I filled the tub with water and got in, then asked her to join me.

She'd been watching me, I guess wondering what I was up to, but she came to me. She knelt in the water and cuddled-in beside me -- and we fit like a glove; I ran my fingers through her hair, felt her face on my chest as I rubbed her temple. She relaxed, and after a while I felt her letting go.

"What's on your mind, darlin'?"

"You weren't serious, were you?" she said at last, fighting through the beer and the rum, trying to laugh a little at her flailing insecurities.

"About getting married? Seems a little soon, don't you think?"

"Do you think you could love me, John?"

"You're lovable, that's for sure, and given some time, maybe a few more hours than we've already had, and maybe the L word would be the way to go..."

"So...you were just kidding?"

"No. No, not really. I like you, a lot. Always have," but on hearing that word I felt her tense up. "But Rhea, we haven't even spent a whole day together, and let's just ignore why Sam and I are here in the first place."

"I know, but I feel disposable right now. Get the old stew drunk, fuck her, toss her out the door with a 'goodbye and good riddance.'"

"That's not really how I feel, or what I want, kiddo. Because just maybe there's something between us worth holding on to."

"I hope so."

"Are you scared? About getting home and all?"

"A little, yes. It's hard to walk away from almost ten years of your life...and not know where you're going."

"Tell me about it."

"What are you going to do? I mean, after the trip?"

"I have a few ideas. Nothing firm yet. But, could I tell you something...?"

"Sure, John..."

"I'm kind of scared, really, about a lot of things, but I think I'm running from something I can't beat. A bad colonoscopy, as it turns out."

She lifted her head a bit on hearing that, and turned to look at me. "Bad? What does that mean?"

"Oh, just something, possibly something, they want to look at again. In a few months."

"Cancer?"

I shrugged. "Pre-cancerous lesions, I think they call them. Anyway, it's something I'm worried about."

She leaned into me, kissed my cheek. "You think I should try nursing school?"

"What's your background? School, I mean?"

"Bachelors in Biology. I was, well, a pre-med. At Tulane."

"Grades weren't good enough for med school?"

"No, they were fine, and I did well on the MCATs too. I just decided I wanted to do something fun."

"Now?"

"I still wonder if I'd be a good doc, I guess. It's like this huge question mark that hangs over my head all the time."

"What would you need to do to apply again?"

"Some academic refreshers, take the MCATs again."

"Are you okay on money? I mean, could you afford to take the time off to do that?"

She shook her head. "Not really. But I need to look into it a little more."

I held up my wrist, looked at my watch. I'd have to take her out to the airport in a few hours, and then what? Say goodbye, walk away from her? Oddly enough and against all reason, I really didn't want to -- not yet, anyway. There was something about this girl that had grabbed me by the heartstrings, and watching her leave was now the last thing I wanted to do.

And then she leaned in again and kissed me...and that was it, really. The intensity of the emotion hit me hard and left me breathless.

"I do..." I whispered. "Oh God, I do..."

"You do what, fly-boy?" she said so softly, almost lovingly, then she gently bit my lower lip.

"I can't let go of you, Rhea. I just can't."

"So don't," she said, and right inside that moment I was convinced I never would.

We talked the night away, you see. I asked her to think about school. I let her know my house in LA was available, that she could move in and in-effect house-sit while I was on the trip. I told her I'd be back there in a month or so for my second colonoscopy, and that it would be good if she was there. I didn't ask for any decisions or commitments, just offered her a way forward -- together -- if that's what she decided she wanted.

And as such, we made our way to love that night. Everything happened so fast, both our pasts had come undone so completely, and so quickly, and in that rush there was hardly any way to come to terms with what we had found. Certainly not in the time we had left that night.

The ride out to the airport was difficult, and we sat in silence all the way. I went with her to dispatch and got the low-down on the report she'd filed, and when we walked out of there we were both glad this part of her life was drawing to a close.

The other funny thing? As we were both so used to being alone, neither of us was very good at 'saying goodbye'. Things were so 'up in the air', too: would she get home and change her mind, move on to other opportunities? Hell, would I get so wrapped up in this trip that I forgot about her? As I walked with her to the screening area all I knew was that she had really gotten to me. Sure, she turned me on physically, but more than that...she suddenly felt like 'home' to me, and that was really the most unexpected thing that had happened. I knew now I wanted to know her better, and was prepared to spend a lifetime doing just that -- if she was. I told her that, too, and she started to cry.

We got to the screening line and I kissed her cheeks. We whispered sweet nothings to each other, then she was gone. I watched her walk off down the concourse and suddenly felt hollow inside.

"So, this is what it's like to feel alone," I said, perhaps a little louder that I knew. "Well, better late than never."

+++++

Sam and I met up with the folks from the motorcycle touring company we had chosen to take us as far as Athens, and from there we went out to the BMW delivery center and picked up our bikes, big, brutish looking R1150GS off-road models, both white with blue accents on the tank. Mine had two-tenths of a mile on the odometer, and was spotless. Extra cases had been added, extra lighting too, and a towering tank bag was already strapped in place, ready to load.

I walked up to my beast and walked around it a few times, guys from the delivery center looking on expectantly.

I turned to Sam, who was similarly engaged. "These things are huge!" was about all I managed to say before I climbed up onto the saddle.

"Fuckin'A!" the ever articulate Sam replied. He wrote action movies...what can I say?

The delivery team checked that our licenses and insurance were in order, then we followed the tour company rep through the city back to the hotel.

"We'll meet you here at 0800 Friday," a burly, red-faced fellow named Gunther Strauss told us, then he roared off through traffic on his company Beemer.

"I think we ought to try to get these in a garage somewhere," I said to Sam as the enormity of the trip ahead began to sink in, "then try to pack our gear on board."

"Yup," he replied.

"We've only got tomorrow to iron out the bugs, know what I mean?"

"I need to get laid," was his only concerted reply. "Soon."

"Dude, have you had your testosterone checked lately? You're unfucking-believable."

"Hey, Ace, I don't get off two, three times a day I start to get weird."

"Start to? You serious? Find any good hookers around here last night?"

"A couple."

"That all? Did you get separate checks, or do 'em together?"

He grinned, winked at me before shrugging his shoulders playfully.

"This is going to be an interesting trip, Sam. Hope you brought lots of rubbers."

"Couple hundred, Amigo. And I might loan you one, too, if you ask real nice."

The hotel had a parking garage, as it turned out, and we ended up strapping lots of smaller bags onto all three of our hard cases. When Gunther and company picked us up Friday morning our bikes looked like elephants getting ready to cross the Alps...which is precisely where we were headed.

*

End C1 [(c)2015 Adrian Leverkühn | ABW]