Out of the Wilderness

Now leaving

  Wilderness

  18

  Sometimes the good Lord decides that children's lives overshadow that of their parents, such as children who went through the war that spanned the end of the second millennium after Christ and spilled over into the third. This particular war began in the late 1970s when the Ayatollah Khomeini declared jihad against America, Israel and anyone else who stood in the way of his delusions of a world controlled by Islam. It lasted almost 50 years, with some European countries favoring appeasement, which almost resulted in their conquest by those who calculated that one death by suicide that left scores of others dead or injured and still more terrorized was the road to 70 virgins and rivers of wine in paradise. As always, the Kingdom of God outlasted this rival kingdom as Jesus Christ continued his eternal reign over heaven and earth.

  Such a child was Jack. He worked for a company that supplied products to consumers worldwide. The pay and benefits were good, complete with a pension. But one might think otherwise to hear some of his coworkers, with the irony being that those who complained the loudest and longest did the least amount of work.

  "What do you think, are they going to take away our pension?" said one at lunch one day.

  "Probably. Greedy corporations. There should be a law against them."

  Jack recoiled at the logic behind such talk. "Then who are you going to work for?"

  "Huh?"

  "If there's no corporations because you got them outlawed, who are you going to work for?"

  "The government. They should own all the companies."

  All at the table who had been in the military or government at the local, state or federal level either walked away, rolled their eyes or laughed until tears came.

  "Yeah, right. You ever checked out the tax rates in countries that operate like that?"

  "No."

  "You ever work for the government?"

  "No."

  "Well work for the government a while and then come back and tell us all about it."

  "Don't have to. My friend already does. He steals everything that's not bolted down - gas, office supplies, computers, you name it."

  Such foolish talk meant little to Jack until the layoffs came.

  "Dammit, I work twice as much as some who've been here longer," he complained after getting his notice.

  The sympathetic listener tried to help. "It's the third law of thermodynamics. The longer someone is in the same job, the less they do. You've got to do whatever you have to to survive, kid."

  "Yeah, well have fun working with those guys, most of them do just enough to get by," Jack fumed as he pointed toward the coworkers whom he would no longer see. Within a month Jack left the place he had worked for 10 years for the last time. Against his better judgment Jack headed to a bar he had never been in to celebrate the start of his layoff. The stranger on the stool beside him soon struck up a conversation.

  "You're really putting them away, pal."

  "Just got canned."

  "Oh. Been there, done that. Let me buy you one. "He motioned to the bartender. "Dan, bring two over to the booth."

  Jack followed his new-found acquaintance and settled into the seat.

  "Maybe it was meant to be."

  "What?"

  "You losing your job. I need someone who could use some quick cash."

  19

  The slow rhythmic swaying of the nondescript car and the knockout drops added to his drink the night before had kept Jack asleep for hours. It wasn't until the road turned rougher due to the severe winters that he finally opened his eyes.

  "My head feels like it's on the inside of a vise." He groaned. "How much did I drink?"

  "I lost count. Need some coffee?"

  "Yeah."

  "No problem. We need gas. The car slowed to exit the highway and entered the first gas station. "You pump the gas while I get the coffee."

  "Okay, okay." Jack rolled out of the car. The chilly wind did little to revive him from the worst hangover of his life. He was still fumbling with the car's gas tank cap when the smell of coffee spun his head around. He quickly grabbed the cup extended his way. "Can't get this gas cap off.."

  "No problem. Get in the car and I'll do it."

  "All right."

  The caffeine slowly brought him to a more aware state of mind. By the time the car was back on the road, questions were forming. "Where are we?"

  "Almost there."

  "Where?"

  "Don't you remember? We talked about it last night."

  "The last thing I remember is something about making some quick cash."

  "That's right."

  "How much?"

  "$5,000."

  "For doing what?"

  "My business associates in Canada need someone to deliver their merchandise to Minneapolis."

  "Minneapolis?" That's almost 1500 miles from here."

  "Now it's only about 1000 miles"

  "Huh?"

  "We'll be at our destination in an hour."

  "How long have I been asleep?"

  "A while."

  "Look, I don't know why your compadres don't use the mail or some shipping company. Just what is it that I'm trying to smuggle across the border anyway? I won't bring heroin into this country."

  "Good. If you tried, you'd be caught."

  "So what is it?"

  "Hash."

  "How much?"

  "Twenty kilos. You get $5,000."

  "Not bad for a day's work."

  "Actually, three days. You don't want to blow your cover of having been on vacation when you go through customs, do you?"

  "Customs? No way. They've got dogs to smell the drugs. I thought you wanted me cross over on foot in some isolated spot and you'd meet me."

  "The border crossing will be no problem. I know one of the customs agents who is a dog handler. He knows you'll be coming through. He's on our payroll."

  "Okay. Is this a one-time deal?"

  "That depends on you. You deliver all the merchandise and my associates might need you again."

  "So, tell some more about these associates of yours. Known them for long?"

  "Long enough to know that the less I tell anyone anything at all about them the more likely my business with them will continue."

  "Makes sense. Less chance of them getting busted if the courier, which is me, doesn't know them. They'll have another middleman deliver it to me?"

  "Yes."

  "How about you? How long you been doing business?"

  "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."

  Some inner sense made Jack uneasy about his new business partner's evasiveness. Slowly, a plan formed in his mind. "I need a bathroom."

  "No problem." The car soon pulled into the next gas station. "Need some more coffee?"

  "No thanks, any more caffeine and I'll need another bathroom before long." Jack hurried to the bathroom and stopped at the payphone next to it. In a minute he was talking to the one who had befriended him at work when the layoffs came." Sorry to bother you, man. But you said I could call anytime."

  "You okay?"

  "I think so. But if I end up missing or dead I need you to give the police this license number." Jack focused his eyes on the license plate and read it off. "It's a California plate."

  "California? That's out of state. Is that where you are?"

  "I'm in some state near Canada. Haven't figured out which one yet."

  "This doesn't sound good. Get away from whomever you're with. I'll come get you if you want."

  "I can take care of myself. Just hang on to that license number. Just in case."

  "Okay. But when you get back home we're having dinner and you're going to tell me what you're up to."

  "It's a deal. Thanks, man. You were always a friend even if we only hung out together at work." Jack slowly replaced the phone, slid into the bathroom and released some of the pent-up toxins from his body. He then hurried back to the car.

  "Who'd you call? I hope
it wasn't the law."

  "No way. Just a friend. He's my insurance policy that I don't end up ripped off or dead after delivery of the hash."

  "I see. No problem. I admire a cautious man."

  20

  "This is agent Derby. I need you to tell him your story."

  "This is the last time. I already told you twice."

  Agent Derby sat down at the long table and turned on the small recorder he carried in his coat. "Date is April 5th. Case number is 3712, Other pertinent information is available on tape number?" he motioned to his fellow agent."

  "Tape number 83."

  "Okay, Jack. Please tell me in your own words what happened."

  Jack rubbed his eyes and sighed.

  "Need some coffee?"

  "Yeah."

  "Could you please grab us a couple of cups?"

  "Okay."

  Agent Derby waited until he was alone in the room with Jack. "Okay, please go ahead."

  "I met this guy at the bar. He says I can make some quick cash. So he takes me almost halfway to Minneapolis, puts me on a bus with enough money for a hotel in some little town in Manitoba and a bus ticket to Minneapolis. After I've

  been there two days, some guy shows up with the suitcase of hash. We smoke some and he tells me where the deliver it in Minneapolis. The next day, I take the bus there. Instead of the woman I'm supposed to deliver it to, you guys are there and bust me. Look, I was set up."

  "Why?"

  "I got the hash past customs. The only way you could have known where I'd be going is if someone told you."

  The door swung open and the two coffees were set in front of the agent and detainee.

  "Please bring in his suitcase."

  "Agent Derby, we can't. Forensics have it."

  Derby paused and took a sip of coffee. "Ughh, this is bad." He yanked a ten dollar bill from his coat and handed it to his partner. "Get us some donuts so we can coat our stomachs against this battery acid."

  "Okay."

  Derby's face brightened when a familiar voice came on the line. "Selby, it's Derby. Can you send