Danger - A Safe Bahamian Novel - Day 02

Danger - A Safe Bahamian Novel - Day 02

(5:43 pm Nov 02, 2007)

*** Beach Near Shack Near Beach ~;-)

Sam, Ronnie, and some other people are sitting under a small grove of coconut trees down by the beach. The waves are rolling in from the south and breaking on the shore.

"OK, Ronnie and I were supposed to meet Jack here yesterday and he never showed up. By this morning, we decided it was time to look for him and called you all in for the search. Any joy on anyone's part?" Sam looks at each face in turn. No one nods.

"No one?" he looks around again and again gets no nods. "OK, then, no joy then, any hints, or odd feelings?" he looks around again and his cousin Frank catches his eye, "Yes Frank?

"Well, it is probably nothing, but you know how I work up at the stables in the morning, mucking out and doing odd jobs? Well, this morning, I was sitting over on the bleachers in the shade after I finished my work, waiting for my girlfriend to come and pick me up."

"Yes, go on."

"Well, like I say, it is probably nothing, but some of the women who ride in the mornings had some guests riding with them this morning. I have never seen these women around before. Anyway, I don't think they saw me over in the shade. I heard one of the new women whisper to one of the regulars about going swimming with a guy that sounded like he looked a bit like Jack yesterday. It didn't make any sense to me though. I mean, who would have been swimming in the ocean yesterday with the storm on?"

*** The Far Side Of The Galaxy

Meanwhile, on the far side of that galaxy, a slightly green postage stamp is trying to put the moves on a luscious ping envelope. A deep luxurious pink envelope. A well filled, pink envelope.

So he's all like, "Hey baby, I wish someone would lick me and stick me to you and send us off on a trip together, I could maybe take you across town or across country, maybe even around the world or even to the other side of the galaxy."

And she is all like, "I don't think you are not a big enough stamp for the job. You may be able to take me to the other side of the room if you are lucky, but I don't think you could even get me out of the window.

And so he is all like, "Baby, I could just blow on you gently and send you around the block."

And so she is all like, "In your dreams, skinny, you and your slightly green self with your picture of alien treasures and strange markings.

And so he is all like, "Whoa! Who told you my markings were strange and who mentioned alien treasures to you? Where did you come up with such a crazy idea?"

And so she is all like, "Do you deny it? I dare you to deny it!"

And so he is all like, "Forget it, let's go grab a bite to eat down at the diner, you feel like a gyro?"

And so she is all like, "I thought you would never get around to the important stuff, let's go!"

*** The Other Far Side Of The Galaxy

Meanwhile, on the other far side of that galaxy, it is still dark and not much of anything is going on. This being a place of no nocturnal activity what so ever.

No, really.

*** The Other Other Far Side Of The Galaxy

Meanwhile, on the other other far side of that galaxy, their version of the SETI project is about to get a big surprise from out own reverse SETI project.

Yes, there are more far sides of the galaxy than you might first imagine. More than I can discuss with you without some severe consequences for you as a matter of fact.

What is the reverse SETI project, you ask. You mean you have never heard of the reverse SETI project? Good.

So, on the other other far side of that galaxy, just as the listening shift is about to change, a radio signal is picked up from the deep reaches of space. And what was the signal that was picked up? Why the famous "Checkin You Baby":


I been checkin you baby
Vision's drivin me crazy
I used to be lazy
Now I'm workin real hard

Cause you to look my way
A long drive on the hiway
We could park in the byway
Oh I'm workin real hard

Two hearts they could fly way
Way up in the sky away
My love's for real 'll not f-f-f-f-fade away
Oh I'm workin real hard

Come Monday or Tuesday
Everyone with a clue say
He don't know what to do hey?
Mmmm, I'm workin real hard

I been peepin you baby
Beauty's drivin me crazy
Got no time to be lazy
Yeah I'm workin real hard

Well, that is what they would have heard if they spoke english, or rather that is what they did hear, but since they didn't speak english, it didn't mean anything much to them in the way that it now holds such deep meaning for you. if you catch my drift.

But, on the other other far side of that galaxy, when they picked up this signal, they new that it was far from random background space type noise.

And when they heard it they were all mighty excited like I must tell you. Mighty super duper excited!

In fact, had they been us, and could speak and understand english, that great and wonderful language that we like to think of as universal, well not all of as admittedly, but more than enough of us, I can assure you, even if I might not be in that more than enough number...

Well, in any case, they would have been whooping and hollering and jumping up and down for joy. They would have been crying tears of joy and hugging and kissing, on the cheeks, in a friendly sort of way naturally, except for these two who were on a bit more than friendly terms, well now, those two might have been kissing in a more unseemly fashion.

And they would have been breaking out the bubbly, and raising glasses in toasts unnumbered, well, at least three or four toasts at least, but who's counting?

And news flashes would have been going out around the world at the speed of light announcing this amazing discovery.

You get the drift, I am sure.

*** The Other Other Other Far Side Of The Galaxy

Meanwhile, on the other other other far side of that galaxy, the big tortoise and hair race day was just getting underway.

See what I mean about these multiplying far sides of the galaxy?

Now on this particular world, the tortoise was the fastest thing alive. Well, it wasn't a tortoise naturally, being unrelated to the actual tortoise, you see. And the hair, well, you know how slow hair grows. And especially when you are going a bit bald and using bush medicine concoctions to try and coax it into growing back in time for your high school sweet hearts return for the big forty year reunion shin dig.

Yeah. So naturally, once again this year, the tortoises were expected to win a clean sweep in all the events. Same as always. Every year since time began in these parts.

So here is how the tortoise and hair race works on the other other other far side of that galaxy.

There is a starting line.

Naturally. Races generally kind of need a starting line.

The starting line is generally located in a large stadium. one with a very large seating capacity as well as a nose bleed section with standing room only.

There is generally a large racing oval marked out in the field of this exceedingly large stadium. There are lanes marked around this racing oval.

The tortoises always get the odd lanes. Don't ask me why, it is just their custom in that part of space.

So the tortoises always take up their positions in their lanes first. They go through their warm up routines, their stretches, their jumping jacks, and whatever other ritual pre race practices they care to and then they all take their marks. After that, they all pull back into their shells for a bit of a siesta.

It is at this point that any other beings on this world that thinks they have hair that can grow fast enough to beat a tortoise make their way down to the field.

After some severe questioning by the race officials, mostly to determine if anyone has been using banned hair growth formulas, those chosen are led by the race officials out onto the track to the thunderous cheering and applause of the expectant race fans. the stadium rocks! And rocks hard man!

They are led onto the track, the officials being careful not to let anyone disturb the peacefully slumbering tortoises. They are taken to their respective even lanes and made to lie down with the crowns of their heads just touching the starting line and their feet pointing away towards the local equivalent of the west.

At the point when all is set, a gentle version of that famous song Peepin You is played softly to awaken the quicksilver tortoises.

Once those race veterans are awake, more stern music is played:

Well I'm not a man who likes to run,
But I find myself waiting for the - STARTER'S gun,
And some day baby when my race is done,
I'll kiss you before I fall.

The crowd generally goes wild again and sings along to every word. No one knows the exact significance of the song, but it has been sung on the big tortoise and hair race day, for as long as anyone can remember. Anyway, it does talk about running and a STARTER'S gun and

BANG!

They're off!

Well I'm not a man who likes to run,
But I find myself waiting for the - STARTER'S gun,
And some day baby when my race is done,
I'll kiss you before I fall.

After maybe a couple hours of this, the tortoises have made two laps of the field and have headed out of the stadium for the cross country part of the race.

To anyone's knowledge, no one has ever seen a single hair move, well except if there is a breeze, but we mean move as in a racing move. Kind of like the old "make a football move" incomplete pass rule in what passes for football in certain parts of our own world. Don't go trying to guess which football I prefer from that statement either.

*** Beach Near Shack Near Beach

Later.

Someone has been down by the water's edge skinning and cleaning some conchs for a salad while the other were sitting under the grove talking and making search and rescue plans and watching the sun set in the west.

The plans are all set for tomorrow and now the Friday night beach party is getting underway. Someone has a radio tuned in to that new station and a hot new song is on...

Girl you know I need a woman
To come and steal my heart
So I leave it on the front porch
Each night when it gets dark

Then I lay upon my pillow
And pray if God be kind
That he'd let you pass down my street
And that you'd stop and rob me blind

The conch salad has attained the perfection of fire tonight. Lips are glowing, foreheads and ears are sweating. And a splendid time is being had by all.

All except for Ronnie who is thinking about that song on the radio and how he could use a good woman to come and steal his heart. He wonders if he will ever be able to get it together enough to even make a good start at a family much less hold one together for the long run.

Tears run down his cheeks and he rubs his nose, but no one notices, they just assume it is the effects of the salad like everyone else.

(11:51 pm Nov 02, 2007)