Letter to Belinda Page 11

  “I think Cory’s Mom has a video camera. I’ll see if we can get it recorded for you. Have a great time in England, Dad! Remember that I want to go to Italy next year, for my senior trip!”

  “Right, Italy! I’ll start looking for a trip to Italy as soon as we get back. Joey, you’ll be the man of the family while Drew and I are gone, so take care of the women. Take your responsibility seriously.”

  “I will, Dad.”

  It was true that Joey and his friends planned to use the casket in their play, but if Travis had known what they had planned for after the play, he would have canceled his trip to England.

  Lois, Travis’ mother, was surprised by talk of the casket.

  “Is that the same casket that Janice bought for you when she thought you had been killed in that plane crash in Colombia?”

  “Yes, Mom, the same one you and Dad encouraged her to buy.”

  “But I thought she sold it back to the funeral home?”

  “They wouldn’t take it back. They said all sales of caskets were final. No refunds, no exchanges. They said they had never had complaints from casket owners before. I didn’t argue with them. I just stored it in the garage until we needed it. It’s like buying a truckload of toilet paper. It might seem unnecessary at the time, but you’ll use it eventually.”

  “That’s good.” She clearly had another question on her mind, so she went ahead and asked. “Travis, are you sure this is such a good idea, me coming on this trip with you and Drew? You know I can’t get around as well as you two can.”

  “It was your decision, Mom. It is a guided tour, which means they pretty well take care of you wherever you go. If your legs start to hurt, they’ll get you a wheelchair.”

  “A wheelchair! I’m not handicapped! Only cripples have to use a wheelchair!

  “No one said you’re handicapped. But if you need a wheelchair, or if I need one, they will get us one.”

  “I hardly think you would need a wheelchair!”

  “I didn’t think I needed a casket either, but I got one! Don’t worry about the trip. Everything will be fine. They will take good care of us. At times, you and Drew will be out touring London’s sights, while I’ll be stuck in a bookstore signing books!”

  “I thought we would all be together?”

  “We will most of the time, but sometimes I’ll be doing book signings for Jester Books, while the rest of you will be gone doing more fun things. I’ll be with you when I can. I told Jester Books when I was going to be there, and they set up my book signings around my schedule, when they could. But some of the places you go, I won’t be able to go. So take a lot of pictures.”

  The sun was barely up as they loaded their luggage on to the charter bus and found a seat. They had earlier received a list of fellow travelers that would be making the trip, but not until they boarded the bus did Travis realize that most of them were college age young people. There were four other adults, one was Nikki, the English Department secretary, who had also gone on the trip to Greece, the year before. Two of the adults were college English professors, whom Travis had not met before, and the fourth was a retired teacher, Mrs. Parker, who was Lois’ age. Lois sat across the aisle from her and struck up a conversation.

  Drew smiled when he realized that most of the college students were girls.

  Travis sat down in the seat behind Nikki and asked, “So you’re the chaperone for all these girls?”

  “Me? I don’t think so! That’s more trouble than I can handle! How have you been, Travis?”

  “Staying alive.”

  “How is your leg?”

  “My leg?”

  “Yes, remember? You were still in the hospital in Athens, when the rest of us left. When we visited you there, you had a leg injury.”

  “That’s right, I had a ‘foreign object’ buried in my leg, by the gas explosion. But it was no problem. It healed right up.” (Travis saw no reason to bring up the fact that this ‘foreign object’ was actually a false eye, blown from its socket when the old sorcerer was vaporized in the explosion.)

  Deliberately changing the subject, he asked, “Who are the two English professors? I don’t know them.”

  “The older man is Professor Fred Cunningham. He’s a real character! His students love him!”

  “And the younger, black-haired one?”

  “He’s Professor Steve Foust. He just joined the UCA staff this past year. He came in a stranger, and was immediately promoted to head of the English Department.”

  “I’ll bet that caused some resentment.”

  “No, not really. The position was offered to Cunningham, and to most of the other English professors, but they all turned it down. Foust got it by default.”

  “You would think one of the existing professors would have taken it, for the raise in pay, if nothing else.”

  “Yeah, you would think so. But I work in the English Department. I see what goes on, and believe you me, being the department head is not worth the additional headache! Professor Foust barely made it through the spring semester without having an emotional breakdown.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m serious. He thought going on this trip to England would mellow him out, but I can see the stress building in him already!”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, he thinks that he is responsible for all 14 English students on this trip, and I told him, I said: ‘Steve, you can’t be responsible for all those kids! They are all over 18, and they can look out for themselves! Most of them don’t want an older adult hovering over them like a mother hen!’ But he doesn’t seem to understand that. And at the end of this trip, he will be more stressed out than before he left! Look at Fred . . . Professor Cunningham. He is laughing and cutting up with his students. He’s having a good time. Now look at Professor Foust. He’s tense, nervous, and afraid that something might go wrong! He’ll be a mental ‘train wreck’ by the time we get back!”

  “Maybe he’ll learn the rules as we go.”

  “I’m surprised that Miranda is not going on this trip. She really likes to travel with you, I think.”

  “She just likes to travel, period! Since she won the Lottery, she’s been traveling almost non-stop.”

  “Won the Lottery? Are you kidding me?”

  “No, seriously, she won the Georgia Lottery, to the tune of 23.5 million dollars!”

  “I heard that a local woman had won the Lottery, but I didn’t know it was Miranda! That’s great! So I guess she doesn’t really miss her job at the University, huh?”

  “I don’t think so!”

  “Won the Lottery! You can tell I don’t stay up on the news like I should. So how is she handling all that money?”

  Travis smiled. “Pretty well, considering the changes it caused in her life. She has bought a nice home over on the Warrior River, and was putting in a pool when I talked to her two days ago.”

  “Go Miranda! I’ll have to go sit with her around her pool and sip margaritas, and catch up on the gossip!”

  “She would probably like that. She still doesn’t have many friends. She is wary of making new friends, because she thinks they might be drawn to her money.”

  “It’s good that she is wary, because there are lots of wolves out there! I know, because I’ve met a few. But yes, I need to go see her when we get back from England.”

  Hopefully, you won’t have to visit her in jail, Travis thought, reflecting on the fact that she was, as they spoke, burying a Federal Judge under her swimming pool.

  * * *

  As they made the quick trip to Atlanta, Fred Cunningham stood in front of the bus and played word games with his students, and in the process, taught them some of the different words and phrases they would hear used in England. Fred was a jolly man, with a red nose, and a face th
at always smiled. He could well have been a character in Chaucer’s ‘Canterbury Tales’. It was plain to see that Fred enjoyed teaching English, and saw it as a living language, that was always changing and evolving. Each word was a complex and useful tool. It was a surprise to Travis, when Fred said: “We are honored to have someone on this trip who is an accomplished writer of fiction! In fact, he is going to be doing several book signings in London while we are there! I have read his novel, ‘The Relic’, and it is absolutely spine tingling! Mr. Travis Lee, stand up and be recognized!”

  Embarrassed, Travis stood briefly and waved at the crowd. One student commented: “That is so cool! I read your book too, Mr. Lee! It was awesome!”

  A girl spoke up. “Yes! I read an article in ‘Whisperings’ Magazine about your book! Didn’t someone read your book and have a stroke, or something? It scared them to death!”

  (Travis’ mother just shook her head.)

  “Well, it really wasn’t that dramatic.” Travis said. “But I have been selling a whole lot of books. I’m told that last week it was up to 3rd place on the Best-Sellers list in the UK.”

  “Why is it doing so well in the U.K?” someone asked.

  “I really don’t know why. I would like to think because it’s a good story, but there are thousands of good stories that never get published. I guess because it is being published and promoted by a London publisher, Jester Books. It was initially published in Canada, by Maple Leaf Publications, but they went bankrupt, and the publication rights were sold to Jester Books. So here I am, going to England to promote it.”

  “You must be making tons of money off it!” one of the students conjectured.

  “Actually, I think what they pay in is called Pounds!”

  Everyone laughed, and even Travis smiled, but behind the forced smile was the painful truth that he wasn’t making a pence in royalties from Jester Books. He had been crapped out of that by the late owner of Maple Leaf Publications, Ronald Fallon, who had sold the publication rights for ‘The Relic’ to Jester Books. And no doubt, for a nice sum of money, because both publishers realized the potential of the book. The only consolation was that Ron Fallon had ‘bought the farm’, and Travis didn’t think that dollars or pounds were accepted as legal tender in Hell. He liked to think that Fallon was now making regular payments with his soul.

  Though Travis was not making any royalty money off his book, he was gaining something that he hoped would eventually be worth even more. He was building a reputation as a writer of really good fiction. He hoped to parley the notoriety gained with his first book into a publishing contract with a reputable company for his second book. If he could do that, he wouldn’t mind so much that his first one was a freebie.

  * * *

  They got to Atlanta well ahead of their boarding time. They unloaded at the Delta terminal, and everyone collected their own baggage. Drew helped Lois with hers, but she insisted on pulling the wheeled suitcase herself.

  Professor Foust was everywhere, making sure everyone was off the bus, making sure they all crossed the street together, and making sure they all got into the proper line at the Delta check-in counter. Travis leaned over to Nikki and asked, “Has Foust ever led a trip like this before?”

  “No, he has never been to England before either.”

  “So this is going to be like the blind leading the blind?”

  “Fred Cunningham has been there before. He’ll keep an eye on him.”

  “I think we all need to keep an eye on him.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Lois asked.

  “The black haired professor, Steve Foust.”

  “He’s never done this before?”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. The tour company will have a guide with us once we get to England. The rest of us have traveled a lot too, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “There’s nothing to fear, but fear itself!” Drew spouted.

  “Thank you, Winston Drew Churchill!”

  “Churchill didn’t say that! It was Franklin Roosevelt!” Lois corrected him.

  “You’re right, Mom, it was Roosevelt. My mistake.” He noted that Drew was starting to perspire, and he knew it wasn’t because of the temperature.

  “Are you okay, Drew?”

  “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Are you nervous about flying?”

  “A little bit.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. People fly every day.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t.”

  “You’ll be fine. Look at these college kids, they’re not worried a bit.”

  “They’ve probably flown before though.”

  “After the first time, you’ll love it!”

  “Maybe so.” It was clear that he still needed convincing. A blond haired college girl behind Lois spoke up.

  “There’s nothing to flying! I do it all the time. Hi, my name is Audrey.” She extended to him a feminine handshake. “And you’re name is Drew?”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  She laughed. “Ma’am? That’s the first time anyone has ever called me that!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “No, it’s cool! It just makes me seem a lot older to be called Ma’am! I’m a freshman at UCA. What about you?”

  “Me? Oh, I’m a senior.”

  “A Senior! Wow, I didn’t know you were that old! Maybe I should call you ‘sir’? Do you play sports?”

  “Football.”

  Travis cut in, because he saw a misunderstanding in the making. “Actually Drew is a senior at Laurel Grove High School.”

  “Oh, okay! That means we are about the same age. I graduated High School a year early.”

  “Can you do that?” Drew asked.

  “You couldn’t with your ‘B’s and ‘C’s.” His Dad answered.

  “Listen, maybe we could hang out, since we are both too young to drink, and I think that’s the only reason some of these other college students are going on this trip, to go on a drinking spree.”

  “I thought the college was taking them to England to teach them about Shakespeare and such.” Drew asked.

  “Some of these students have never heard of Shakespeare, and still won’t know anything about him when they go home. They just want to be able to say to their friends that they partied in England this summer! Next year they will party in Paris, or Athens, or wherever the University offers a trip that year.”

  “It doesn’t sound like much of a trip. They could stay home and get drunk.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly the way I feel! They are going to waste a unique learning experience, because they will be too drunk to know what’s going on, most of the time.”

  “In that case, you’re more than welcome to hang out with us, Audrey.” Travis said. “Is it okay with you, Drew?”

  “Oh, yeah, sure!”

  They got their boarding passes and went on to the departure gate, where they waited only a short time before loading up on the Delta flight to New York. Travis let Drew have his window seat, so he could see the sights as they took off. As they fastened their seatbelts, Travis showed him where the barf bag was, just in case. When the stewardess stood in front of the plane and gave out the instructions for a water landing, Drew’s eyes got big. She explained about the floatation devices under the seat, and the oxygen masks, and he looked at his Dad, who was browsing through the in-flight magazine.

  “Don’t worry about all that, Drew. By law, they have to go over it at the start of every flight. Believe me, if the plane goes down, you won’t have to worry about any of it.”

  “That’s what worries me! So what if we do go down?”

  “Drew, flying is the ultimate expression of faith. You must have complete faith that the pilots know what they are doing, because your life is literally in their hand
s. If we go down, there is absolutely nothing we can do about it.”

  “We can’t jump out with a parachute? Like you did in Colombia?”

  “In that case, I was the pilot, and we were flying at low altitude, and we actually had a parachute. Do you have a parachute?”

  “No.”

  “Then you must have faith in the pilots, that they will know what to do, in case something happens. You can survive a sinking ship, or a bus or train wreck, but if something happens at 35,000 feet, there is nowhere to go but down.”

  “Is it too late for me to get off?”

  “Yes it is. We’re starting to move. Want some chewing gum? Chewing gum causes your ears to pop as you go up and down in elevation. If they don’t pop, you’ll have an ear ache.”

  “Right now an ear ache is the least of my worries, Dad! Are we speeding up?”

  “Yeah, we’re headed for the runway. Once we get clearance, we will be like a rock being shot out of a slingshot! We will accelerate from zero to 150 mph in about ten seconds, because we have to go that fast to be able to get off the ground. And if you watch out the window, you will be amazed at how fast we leave the Earth behind! Just lay back in the seat and enjoy it!”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Here we go!”

  The G force threw them back in their seats, as the plane sped down the runway, faster and faster, until the sides of the runway became a blur. Then the nose of the plane came up, and they shot skyward. Drew managed to look out the window as they went up, and saw the buildings in Atlanta quickly growing smaller, the interstate highways scurrying with ‘ants’. But the low hanging clouds soon caused all that to fade away, and there was nothing but white, until they got much higher, and popped out above the clouds.

  “Well, what do you think now?”

  “I’m dizzy. How fast are we going?”

  “Probably between 500 and 600 miles per hour.”

  “It doesn’t seem like we are moving that fast.”

  “That’s because there is nothing to gauge it against. No mile markers in the clouds. We’ve leveled off, so we should be about 35,000 feet off the ground.”