Surrounded by a battalion of grinning South Americans, I shook my head and sent mud flying like a retriever shedding water. Uproarious laughter followed and I wondered why they were so entertained by my predicament. I became decidedly uncomfortable and happened to look down to make sure my sport bra was still in place. What met my eyes was a bust that would have made Dolly Parton jealous. It seemed my sport bra had collected mud all the way down the slope and packed it into my bra, from below my chin half way to my navel. I saw Armand, among the crowd, snap a picture with his cell phone and laugh. I realized something else in that moment; I really did hurt like hell.
The pain was so sharp it turned my knees to rubber. I grabbed my ribs, and mud squirted out of my bra and onto my laughing audience. "Armand," I yelled as blackness swept over me. Then nothing.
When I came to we were the a helicopter heading back to Lima. I noticed several things at once. I could see, I was clean, no longer half naked, and my bust had shrunk back to regulation size (sigh). I looked up into Armand's smiling eyes and said the first thing that came to mind, "Do I have you to thank for this?" He nodded his head and I said, "Does this mean we're engaged?"
He laughed and patted my hand. "Unfortunately no, Buzz." He put the back of his hand against his forehead. "Alas, I am just the beast of burden who toted you and your mongo mud bazoombas back to the trucks. I had to fight off your new buddies for that right. They also insisted on slinging a hammock in the back of a truck so you wouldn't be jostled around on the way down. We got you off the mountain, but to my regret I didn't have the pleasure of being on the cleanup crew. The hospital staff did it."
I swung at him and the pain in my side took my breath away.
"Hold on old girl, you have broken ribs. I don't want to be responsible for one going through your lung."
"Crap, it must have broke when that Bozo kicked me, or from the ride down that mudslide Whatever, it sure stings."
"Stings? Right. I've had broken ribs. Bees sting. Broken ribs take your breath away."
I laughed, but the pain had me grabbing my side again. "Wait! What about the mine, Armand? Tell me what happened! Where's Nunez? Where's Chavez?"
"
Whoa
. Let me see. Chavez is in custody of the National Police. The U.S. wants his ass, too, but frankly I'd be surprised if he made it through the judicial system down here alive."
"Why do we want him?"
"Arms, baby. Arms! That's what he did with the gold. He bought up arms and smuggled them through Port of Miami, New Jersey, New Orleans, and Seattle. From those places he distributed them world-wide. Quite the operation."
"Evo. I said. Call Evo."
"Already did, and he told me what you thought about the fish and the toxins. When I confronted Hank, he broke down and spilled his guts. Chavez caught him stocking the lagoon with the Corys and the Endlers, and in return for not announcing Hank to the world as a fraud, he blackmailed Hank into shipping arms along with the fish. Hank also made some damn good money off the deal. It was a great set up for a couple of unscrupulous, and might I add arrogant characters, like MacRone and Chavez. They've been flying under the radar since they began. That is, until one lone scientist threw a monkey wrench into the works."
"And the aftermath, Armand? Do they have an EPA down here that will do the cleanup of the waters and the jungle?"
Armand ruffled his hair. "My agency is sending people. They'll work with the Venezuelans to neutralize the toxins and clean up the mess around here. Nunez is footing most of the bill. He's going to use the profits from the mine for the cleanup and to rebuild the village at a different location."
"So you're finished down here as well? What now Armand? Do you go home or what?"
"I have some time off coming to me, Buzz." He sighed and looked out the window. "I thought I might take a trip to the upper Midwest, maybe Wisconsin. Who knows? I might make it over to White Bass Lake. Got an extra cot for a good old Italian boy from Queens?"
I squeezed his hand. "You bet. One with your name on it."
Armand dug around in his pockets. "Wait! I almost forgot, I have something for you."
"A present? Oh, I love presents."
"Uh, not exactly," he muttered and patted his pockets. "Where the heck did I put it?" He grabbed his jacket and rummaged around in the pockets. "
Aha
. Here it is!"
With a flourish Armand presented me with the ultimate souvenir, my mud-caked cell phone.
30
Between Armand, Evo, and me, I think we had enough pain medication in us to anesthetize a small third world country. Thank the heavens we were traveling by private plane, otherwise we would have been detained at customs as drug dealers.
It was a beat up party of five that arrived in the wee hours of the following morning at Mitchell Field in Milwaukee. Though not physically injured, an exhausted Fred and Sam ran themselves ragged trying to take care of three invalids. Well, make that two invalids and a faker. Armand's nose looked just fine, but he basked in the attention he received and swore his broken nose was a debilitating injury.
Airport Security took one look at us and dispatched someone to retrieve Evo's truck from long-term parking. They even helped load our gear into the back. Sam drove and Fred navigated. It was clear sailing at that hour of the morning on the expressway, so we made good time getting to White Bass Lake. Sam stopped first at my house and she, Armand, and Fred helped me to the porch. My porch doesn't have a rail, so we were discussing the best way to get me up the stairs when the door flew open.
"Damn it, Buzz." We all looked up at the wild man who burst through the door, and I'd never felt anything that close to a sense of
home
than I did at that moment. The stress melted away, the picture of J.J. mad as hell standing with his fists balled on his hips blurred around the edges until I saw only him. I felt warm and safe and a little muzzy Tears filled my eyes and ran down my face–probably side effects from the drugs.
I was so busy soaking in the ambience; I never thought to warn Armand about Wesley. Armand stood directly opposite the door when J.J. threw it open and in the direct line of fire when a one-hundred-and-sixty-pound ball of black fire came roaring through the air. Wesley's paws caught Armand squarely in the chest and knocked him off his feet and onto his butt. Wes was so happy everyone had come just to see him, he did the doggy dance on Armand's body while Armand sucked air like a vacuum cleaner and yelled about his nose.
Fred ran to Armand's rescue and hauled Wes off to the side. He treated Fred to big slurpy doggy kisses, which splashed off her and onto Armand. Fred let go of his collar, and Wes turned back to Armand. Hilary chose that moment to come through the door and stand patiently until Wesley finished sliming Armand. I noticed her when she leaned against my leg, and I grabbed hold of J.J.'s belt so I could lean down and rub her ears without falling on my butt.
Wes finally realized he was licking a stranger and abandoned Armand and started back on Fred. "Wes, no. Down. Off. Off!" Fred stumbled over Armand and fell backward, her hand connecting with Armand's nose. Armand wailed and Wes treated it like a new game. Wes crouched on his forelegs and lifted his butt high in the air, tail wagging, and mouth grinning.
I knew that stance as Wes's version of the "tiger pounce" and figured I'd better distract him. I still held onto J.J.'s belt and said out of the corner of my mouth, "Protect me, Green." I turned to Wes. "Wesley, I'm home."
Wesley's head shot up and he spun in circles. He finally saw me standing next to J.J. and bounded forward to greet me properly. A split second before take-off, J.J. yelled, "
Down
!" I dropped my teeth when Wes hit turf. King Wesley, Doggie School Dropout obeyed a command for the first time in his four years on earth.
"Holy crap," I said
"Holy Crap," Fred echoed.
"Wow," said Sam
"Wow," echoed Evo.
"Did someone get the plate number of that bus?" Armand, lay horizontal on the front lawn.
A very smug J.J. leaned over and scratched Wesley's ears. "Good boy." Wesley leaned on his leg, grinning back and wagging his tail.
J.J. hoisted me up the stairs and waited until I got situated on the reclining love seat before he started yelling at me again. "Damn it, Buzz."
My head hurt. My ribs hurt. I wanted more drugs. Annoyed, I said, "Didn't we already do this part?"
J.J. blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He skulked back and forth and I mentally braced myself for the tirade of the century. He took a deep breath and turned to Fred, Armand, Evo, and Sam.
"Thank God you all made it back in uh, sort of one piece. Anyone want coffee? It's morning, we might as well."
Evo relaxed and smiled, "I'm in. Sam? Fred?"
Fred looked up from rubbing Wesley's belly. "Okay with me, Armand?"
"I'd rather have a beer if you have one. I've had a rough couple of years the last few days."
J.J. gave him a perplexed look. "Years?"
I poked J.J. in the butt. "We'll tell you all about it. Get your coffee and come sit." I patted the love seat next to me and Wes came flying through the air.
"
Down
," J.J. yelled and Wes hit the floor inches in front of the love seat. He gave J.J. an injured look and laid his head on my knee. Hilary put her paws on the love seat and J.J. boosted her up. She crawled in my lap and quietly passed gas.
I sighed and fanned the air. "There's no place like home."
The odor finally wafted past Armand and he choked. "
Whew
. What the heck
is
that?" When he saw me pointing at Hilary he shook his head. "Don't you all be feeding me that
the dog did it
crap." Hilary promptly fizzed again.
We all laughed and Fred fanned the air around him. "Welcome to the family; you've just been officially initiated by Hilary,
The Canine Source for Natural Gas
." As if on cue, poor Hill cracked off another one for good measure.
A bit concerned over Hill's overabundance of odiferous emissions, I wondered aloud if I should take her over to Dr. Mike's and have her checked out. J.J. said, "Uh, don't worry about Hill. She, uh, had a little ice cream and sauerkraut last night and has been farting up a storm ever since."
I rolled my eyes and sighed. I patted poor flatulent Hilary and J.J. grabbed me and ruffled my hair. "
Ow
." I winced from the pain and he pulled back.
"Gee, Buzz, are you okay? You know, come to think of it, you really do look like death warmed over."
"I've been through hell, so leave me alone. My ribs are broke, I have a headache, my entire body feels like it was run over by a Mack truck–"
"Yo, Miller, slow down. You're starting to whine." My face heated and I turned a lovely shade of pink. He kissed the top of my head and looked over at Armand. "Hey, you with the broken nose, want to give me a hand? It'll get you away from the stench for a bit."
Armand practically lunged across the room. Evo said, "I'll help too," and followed them to the kitchen.
I narrowed my eyes at J.J. "Don't you dare grill them to death James J. Green. I know how you operate. Watch him, Armand; he'll have you spilling the family secrets in less than five minutes."
"I'll be on my guard, Buzz. Don't forget I'm tough, I'm from Queens."
"Whatever the heck that means," I muttered. "Okay."
Five minutes later, Sam went into the kitchen and brought back coffee. "They're talking about maybe trying to work with the government to get Hank back to the States. What I want to know is why Hank would jeopardize everything in his life just to put his name on a fish?"
"Money," I said.
"Fame," Fred said.
Sam sighed. "I wonder what will happen to him now."
I took a sip of coffee and wondered how much of Hank's fate I should reveal to Sam and Fred. According to Ramon Nunez, Hank would go away for the rest of his life, if he lived that long.
Knock, knock, knock, bang, bang.
"Hey, Green, see who's at the front door?"
J.J. mumbled, "Probably the Geriatric S.W.A.T. Team. How would they know you're even home yet? I sure as heck hope Edie didn't say anything over the police radio; all those little old ladies have scanners. Oh my God, just the thought makes me queasy. Jell-O salads at five-in-the-morning. Brats, noodles.
Uhh
. He clawed at my good arm, sliding down to his knees as if in prayer. "I couldn't choke down one of your Mom's infamous hockey pucks if I tried. Please don't let them in!"
"Green, you are an evil man."
"Yep, and if I can avoid your mother's hockey puck hamburgers, I'll live to be an evil
old
man!"
"Just get the door."
J.J. wiped his nose on his sleeve, dabbed at his eyes and sobered. "Okay, but you'd better come clean up the mess."
"What mess?"
"After I get stampeded by four little old ladies, my body will be imprinted with orthopedic shoe prints. My flat remains will have to be delivered to my mother–wait! My mother will probably be among them. I can't win."