Aeronaut Gone Read online

  Daisy crossed her arms across her chest like a petulant child and Ro couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t all that amused. Frederick was laying down his wants on Daisy with no regard for her own. It was all too common. Drag your poor wife into the jungle without an ounce of caring that she’d avoid it at all costs.

  It didn’t help that Ro had caught the twins comparing their city wives to Hettie and Ro on more than one occasion. What did it matter that Hettie and Ro had thrown themselves into adventure? Seeing the world was their dream. Other dreams and wants were just as valid. Ro winced when Frederick leaned in and hissed towards his wife. Whatever he said wasn’t kind, of that Ro could be certain.

  Ro didn’t really blame Daisy for her objections to the trip even though Ro was excited for their midnight lightning bug tour. Daisy hit the nail on the head with the exponential increase of danger once their eyes would be of no help. Didn’t those big cats the jungle claimed hunt at night? Ro was almost certain they did. Frederick put his hand on Daisy’s and it seemed to quiet her for the moment, but Ro bet this wasn’t the end of her objections or his stalwart refusal to listen to her.

  Ro tried to suppress the feeling of dread in her stomach, but it wasn’t exactly working.

  “I hate to see that,” Hettie muttered. “How hard is it to listen? Why must he insist she come along?”

  Ro’s only answer was to shake her head. Their waiter approached as Hettie began shuffling her chicken and rice around her plate again. “Another round of drinks?”

  “Yes, please,” Ro said. “Whatever you have that will silence my fears.” He didn’t seem to understand her though he’d understood their earlier order of a G&T. “Rum, perhaps?”

  “Double?”

  “Certainly, if you can’t make it a triple.”

  He blinked and nodded, turning to Hettie. Ro was betting he hadn’t understood the request for a triple.

  That seemed to snap Hettie out of her reverie. “Do you think it’s a good idea to soak yourself in rum before we risk the black of the jungle?”

  “I’ve done some thinking, dear Hettie, and I’ve come to a rather scientific conclusion.”

  “Well that’s exciting,” Hettie said dryly.

  “We’ve traveled all this way, to adventure certainly, but also to shop. Now, the way I see it, we might not survive the adventuring portion of this trip to even get to the shopping. If I’m going to perish in the jungle, which seems all too likely, I’d prefer to not have my wits about me.”

  Hettie shook her head, but her lips twitched as she nodded to the waiter, “Tea, please.”

  “In fact,” Ro said, “I’d prefer to be so inebriated that I don’t even notice when one of those blue frogs decides to murder me or an alligator pulls me below the water.”

  “Or a snake decides to slither into your sheets?” Hettie shuffled her food around her plate one more time and then shoved it away.

  “Never a better time to dive into my cups,” Ro agreed heartily. “Sharing my bed with reptiles means that I must be absolutely marinating in rum. In fact, from now until we return to soggy, safer London.”

  Hettie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “First, it was a crocodile, not an alligator. Second, I would think your chances of dying would increase if you don’t have your wits about you.” Hettie ran her fingers over her lips and then admitted, “A part of me regrets the adventure portion of the trip and then I remember the sloths.”

  “And how amazing the trees were, in the mangroves?” Ro added, “With their roots coming out of the water?”

  “That frog that Nevi moved was lovely. Terrifying,” Hettie admitted, “but lovely.”

  “Think of the stories we’ll have to tell if we do manage to survive,” Ro said, sighing into her rum. “If we do live through this, I’m spending so much money in the shopping district that you’ll be reeling.”

  “You were going to anyway.”

  Ro ignored Hettie even though she was right. “It’s just that I’ll need tangible reminders that we survived.”

  Hettie reached across the table and drained half of Ro’s rum. She coughed, sputtered, and her eyes watered. When she could speak again, she lifted Ro’s glass and said, “To survival!”

  Ro stole her glass back and repeated, “To survival.”

  Ro was jealous of those who’d remained behind. The second drink hadn’t been enough to quell her fears. Grandfather Longmont had opted to stay in the hotel to be fully rested to board the airship the next day, as did his son and daughter-in-law.

  Joining Ro, Hettie, and the gents were just the twins, their wives, Hettie’s friend Jade, and her chubby husband. It seemed Daisy hadn’t gotten her way. Even if Ro and Hettie hadn’t heard the argument, Daisy’s pout would have told the story. Still, she was dressed more appropriately than her sister-in-law Betsy who still insisted on a full face of makeup, a beaded dress complete with fringes, and dangly jewelry.

  The guide glanced at Betsy as he started to speak and then paused. His mouth dropped open, and he pretended to cough. Ro glanced at Hettie and the gents and found only Neville was hiding his thoughts.

  Ro knew it was evil, but she hoped Betsy lost every single diamond the fool woman wore. It was just so…so…stupid.

  The tour guide, who’d boarded the bus he had brought for them stood up, cleared his throat and said in a thick accent, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are leaving for our destination. Cerro de la Muerte. In English, that’s the Mountain of Death.”

  Ro gasped and took hold of Hettie’s wrist with tight fingers. Of course it was called the Mountain of Death. Why wouldn’t it be? Especially after two near misses that day already. Perhaps three depending on whether the snake was venomous.

  She glanced at Hettie who seemed to have faded into a paler shade of her already pale self. Ro silently prayed that there was more rum somewhere on this mountain.

  The tour guide continued, evilly, “Don’t worry, it’s quite rare that someone dies on one of our tours. Not impossible, of course, it is the jungle, but if you stay close and don’t wander off on your own, the odds are good you will survive to see the sunrise.”

  Betsy gasped and Daisy slumped in her seat. Ro was forced to swallow her fear, so she and Hettie wouldn’t be lumped with those fools. Somehow, watching the two of them fall to pieces gave Ro the tiniest bit of pleasure. Perhaps she’d enjoy this tour after all?

  The bus, smelling faintly of farm animals and an unidentifiable stench that hadn’t been quite removed, lurched slowly over the old road. Ro would guess that this bus had a much more prosaic daily purpose. They drove for what felt like forever, but perhaps that was because Ro and Hettie were whispering the phrase, “It’s quite rare that someone dies on one of our tours,” back and forth. Somehow it both made them feel less afraid and made Daisy whimper until she snapped, “Would you stop?”

  Her husband Frederick snorted. “You’re fine, Daiz darling. Steel your spine, darling.”

  His statement had his brother shooting Frederick a dark look and then the steady Will, Jade’s husband, made a comment about the diversity of wildlife as compared to London. It was just so scientifically observant while avoiding the undercurrents that one would think he was entirely unaware. He wasn’t, Ro was sure. He was just very good about redirecting conversation by the sheer stupor caused by real thought.

  His Jade knew it and she leaned over to say something low to him. Ro could just see the two of them tangle their fingers together. The small act conveyed a simple love and unity that took Ro’s breath away. She couldn’t help but turn her gaze to Truman for a moment. Their eyes met and Ro gave him a slight smile before she glanced back out the window. It was a short season, and the sun was low in the sky.

  Once out of the bus, they followed the tour guide down an uneven trail about a half-kilometer mile, if Ro guessed right. They walked in pairs, she with Truman and Hettie with Neville. As much as Ro wanted to be in the back so she could mock Betsy and Daisy’s squeals, staying close to
Nevi and Truman was far better fun.

  “Did you bring your gun, Truman?” Ro asked.

  He smiled, a flash of white teeth in the dark. “No. I did, however, purchase one in town. I doubt it will do us much good. I can’t exactly shoot a frog if it lands on one of us again, but I feel better having it. I got something for you, as well. Would you like it now?”

  “If it will increase my odds of survival, then yes. Is it rum? Say it’s rum. My goodness, I would kill Daisy for a rum right now.”

  He let out a quiet, gentle laugh. “No, it’s not rum. I got you a knife.”

  He pulled out a knife with a six-inch blade in a tooled leather sheath.

  Ro felt her eyes widen. “You know it’s just about as likely that I’ll kill myself or you with this than actually defend myself from a panther with this thing, right?”

  Another chuckle. She was forgetting how terrified she was. He pulled a leather strap out of his satchel.

  “This is a leg harness. Stop for a moment?”

  She paused and stepped to the side which meant that Nevi, the jungle whisperer, was getting farther away with Ro’s most assured ally. Truman bent down and fastened the harness around one of Ro’s thighs on the outside of the pants she’d opted to wear. Once it was secure, he slid the knife into the sheath.

  “There. Now it will be within arm’s reach at all times. Perhaps the best choice for such a place as this.”

  “Did you get one for Hettie?”

  “Neville did.”

  She felt her eyes tear up. He’d given her a way to protect herself and it meant more to her than it probably did to him. She kissed him on the check and murmured in his ear. “Thank you, Truman. It’s even better than rum.”

  He grinned and pulled out a flask. “I do also have rum, but it wasn’t your present. Would you like a drink?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, taking the flask from him. She only took a small sip, though, because having a knife affixed to her thigh made her feel like she didn’t need the rum and when she was walking by his side, she wasn’t quite so sure she wanted to be entirely inebriated. They resumed their walk and quickly threaded around the twins and caught back up to Neville and Hettie.

  Chapter 6

  The jungle was strangely beautiful at night. It was warm and balmy, much more pleasant than being outside in the daytime, and when Hettie saw the first lightning bug, she cried out in delight.

  “Look, Nevi,” Hettie said, pulling on his arm.

  She pointed and they stopped to admire the tiny little bug. She wasn't sure what she’d expected, but this was much more subtle than she’d thought. One solitary lightning bug climbing up the trunk of a tree just next to the path they walked. It climbed higher and higher and then without a warning, launched into the air. She tracked it to its next landing spot, the next tree over. She watched it for a minute, leaning into Neville and enjoying the feeling of getting lost in the moment with him. Then the light went out and the bug was gone.

  “That was rather magical, wasn’t it?” Neville asked in a low voice. There was something about his soft voice, just for her, that had her shivering. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and the weight of his arm had her stiffen for a moment. It had been so long since such a weight had been hers. She had to breathe in slowly, but by the time she relaxed Neville had stiffened.

  “I’m sorry,” Hettie murmured.

  He started to remove his arm, and she grabbed his hand keeping him close. They silently relaxed into each other and started walking again to catch up to the rest of the group.

  When they turned the final corner, her mouth fell open in awe. Hundreds, if not thousands, of lightning bugs filled the air. It was like a thousand tiny candles lighting up the jungle. It may well have been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  She was very aware of Neville’s arm across her shoulder and felt more content than she had in a long time. Her awe-filled gaze moved to the best of friends and found Ro standing with Truman’s arm around her waist. The two of them looked at each other and then Ro nodded once. Yes, this was all right. Good even.

  Just then, a shriek shattered the moment of bliss. It was Betsy in all her uptown splendor pointing at her husband Douglas. “S——Sn—snake! Douglas. There’s a snake.”

  Douglas froze and Betsy continued screaming. This time, Truman was closest and acted quickly. He reached over and pulled the knife from Ro’s sheath. Hettie gasped at the sight of the sheath, the knife, and Truman sliding the knife under the body of the snake and flicking it to the ground.

  The tour guide had darted over by the time the snake landed and used a quick move and a ready hatchet to decapitate the snake.

  “A bushmaster. This snake will strike repetitively although just one bite from this and you’d have been dead before you hit the ground. They aren’t usually up this high in the mountains. Strange.”

  Hettie shivered and curled into Neville’s side, eyeing the dead snake.

  “It’s all right,” Neville said. “We’re looking after each other.”

  “It was horrible,” Hettie whispered back, feeling very much like a coward. She tried to recapture the magic of the lightning bugs, but couldn’t quite rid herself of the thought that Douglas seemed to be targeted by death. Except, of course, the crocodile and Hettie’s own too-close adventure. The lightning bugs were more than Hettie could have imagined, but the carefree magic didn’t return no matter how hard Hettie tried to find it. Were they being fools or too-sensitive? After all, it wasn’t as though people hadn’t been living in and near this jungle for hundreds of years. She shook her head, unable to find an answer.

  “How did you arrange this?” Neville asked as he stared at the airship. It was more like a navigable balloon, with the large balloon hovering over what amounted to something like a small fishing ship.

  “Money, mostly,” Hettie admitted. “The owner had been slowly building it off early plans and his own tweaks. He needed a last investment to have something that could be used. Ro threw money at it for the sheer whimsy. This trip—and probably any other Ro wants—is his gratitude.”

  Hettie knew that there were three tiny cabins, a small storage area, and the deck for them to squash themselves into like sardines in a can. One of the cabins would be used by Grandfather Longmont and his attentive son Peter, one for Hettie and Ro, and one for Daisy, Betsy, and Jade. The rest of the gents and Benedikt Herzfeld, the captain—or aeronaut as he insisted on being called, would be forced to sleep on deck or on hammocks in the small storage area. The ship could land on water and land, but Ro had imagined they’d survive the jungle far better if they didn’t have to sleep with the snakes, poison frogs, and hunting cats.

  Neville shook his head in shock and then asked low, “How often does whimsy rule your life?”

  “Often,” Hettie admitted. “What do you think of that?”

  He sidestepped the question as he continued, “Whimsy and Ro. Those are the only guarantees with you?”

  Hettie smiled and nodded. “How do you feel about a whimsical life?”

  They both felt the weight of the question. That was one of those questing statements intended to feel out a possible partner.

  “I feel good about it,” he told her just as softly. His kind eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, and he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss on the back of it, not minding the glove in the least.

  As they walked up the gang plank to the deck of the airship, Hettie just heard Ro joking with Benedikt about needing to strap them all in for their safety.

  “Especially this one,” Betsy said, nodding towards Douglas. “Only Hettie has come as close to the next life as him. I think he may secretly be trying to off himself in the jungle given the number of his near misses.”

  Douglas shot Betsy a dark look and shrugged. “It could have happened to anyone.”

  “Again, and again, and again,” Betsy muttered and then asked, “How will we bathe?”

  Benedikt choked on a laugh and th
en shook his head, turning to Ro as if to ask if she could believe this madness.

  “We’ll find some non-crocodile waters,” Ro said majestically, “and jump in. It will be an even grander adventure to pep up our dinner parties.”

  Betsy gasped, then Ro’s head cocked and she grinned at the captain. “I see you got your mariner’s compass.”

  He patted his pocket where a gold object hung on a chain. “Never without it now. Thank you, Ms. Lavender.”

  She patted his back and then walked to the edge of the ship and leaned over the edge. The airship was in a large clearing near the city, anchored to the ground. There were many locals watching in awe as the original creation hovered above the ground. She turned and realized that both Truman and Neville had cornered Benedikt and were asking question after question, so quickly that he couldn’t answer one before another was asked.

  Hettie hooked her arm through Ro’s. “What are the chances we go down in a fiery death?”

  “High, I think,” Ro said. “This all seemed so much more fun when we were just talking about it over dinner.”

  “This is what comes from supporting entrepreneurs who request help while you’re half-zozzled and still angry with what’s-his-name.”

  “Leonard?” Ro asked, staring at Hettie who winked mischievously.

  “What’s-his-name and that spoilt chum of his.”

  “Oh yes,” Ro shot back. “Them.”

  “Jerks,” Hettie said.

  “Scoundrels.”

  “You’re insulting scoundrels everywhere,” Hettie quipped and laughed. “This is fun. If we survive.”

  “There’s no truly living without risk, my dear,” Grandfather Longmont said. He breathed deep and then coughed a little before he added, “Thank you for letting me come.”

  Hettie glanced at Ro and then said, “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Grandfather Longmont laughed and then shook his head. “I’ve seen those glances of yours. You two speak to each other like my best friend, Henri and I did. One glance and sarcastic asides were unnecessary.”