All Aboard Andi's Dream Ch. 08

"What about momma? She's expecting a Jesuit priest out of me."

"You go and find a nice girl and hand momma a few grandchildren. She'll forget all about the Jesuit thing." Paul took a bite of the sausage and rolled his eyes in pleasure. "If she still doesn't like it, you go start a nice Baptist church and not let her in. That would drive momma crazy knowing that there's a place she would never go, but it wouldn't let her in."

John felt a rush of relief wash over him. Paul was right, and the answer was so simple, he just needed to hear it from someone else. "You saved me again," John said in a whisper.

"You know I'm going to need you one of these days. Just be ready to catch me when I fall."

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The Jarecki family had a reunion at Luke Air Force Base when Captain Paul Jarecki and Lieutenant Melony Ruskin became man and wife, or as the rest of their squadrons said, doctor and test subject. It was a small ceremony held in a small chapel off base. Paul and Melony wore their mess dress uniforms, short tuxedo jackets with silver edged shoulder boards and silver stripe at the cuff, white formal shirt, bow tie, medals rather than ribbons, and wings. They wore cummerbunds and Melony wore a tab rather than a tie and she wore a formal length skirt.

They both looked happier than anyone had ever seen either of them. Joyfully, they started the process of introductions, but neither could predict the pain that they were in for. "This is my sister Monica," said Melony as she introduced her sister to Paul and John. Monica looked identical to Melony, but they both assured Paul and John that she was a year younger than Melony.

There was an invisible wall between Monica and John that neither wanted to broach. "John, Monica is an investment banker and she just moved to New York City," said Melony.

"Monica, John is a divinity student and is working on his Doctor of Theology." said Paul.

John and Monica politely shook hands as the family introductions continued. Melony and Monica clearly came from money. Their father Reginald wore a thousand dollar suit that was created for him on Saville Row. Their mother, Beatrix, wore the finest silk and was bathed in gems and pearls. Meanwhile, Cecil and Katarina Jarecki were their usual selves, wearing clothes bought off the rack, shoes from Walmart, and smiles that were genuine.

"Dad, this is Melony's father Reginald. He's a senior vice president with the investment firm of Thompson, Reed, Kane, and Archer," said Paul.

"Dad, this is Paul's father Cecil, he now owns four automobile dealerships," said Melony.

"So you sell used cars," said Reginald with a sniff of disdain.

Cecil knew everything he needed to know about Reginald Ruskin with that one arrogant sniff. He knew Reginald made well into six figures annually and was in debt up to his eyeballs, banging two different women other than his frigid wife, and cheats at golf. Cecil is a good a judge of human character as he is a judge of cars. "Yes sir, we sell them too at Jarecki Ford, at four convenient locations. One may be near you. A good used car can set a man that's down on his luck to rights." He tucked a business card in Reginald's pocket. "I can see you in a 1967 Galaxy 500 fastback with a two eighty nine. Fully auto and ready to install aftermarket air."

It was Cecil's polite way of saying, "Fuck you, ya snobbish dick."

"What was that?" asked Melony.

"That was dad's way of pulling your dad's leg. When he sees the business card he'll see that Dad specializes in AMG Mercedes, and Porches."

"That's kind of rude, isn't it?"

"I'm not going to apologize for my dad, he's a good man. I've never seen him do wrong to anyone, including the man that was trying to destroy his business."

"Destroy his business?"

"Yeah, he had a sales manager that would get bored, so he fiddled with dad's safe, pretending to be a safe cracker and he actually figured out the combination. He then copied preliminary contracts that dad was setting up with sales and give them to a rival who undercut dad and almost drove dad out of business."

"So?" asked Melony.

"He was my dad's friend. Dad gave him a job when he was down on his luck and he did that to dad, stabbed him in the back."

"It happens," shrugged Melony. "It's over, right?"

"Yeah, it's over," said Paul, but he was annoyed by her cavalier attitude. He wanted to scream, "We were eating out of a dumpster because of that guy," but he didn't know if that would get through to her.

"If we're ready," said the minister, and they gathered at the end of the chapel, the seats were filled with pilots from Melony's squadron and officers from the base hospital and from Paul's fighter squadron. A few of his pilots showed up, but most of them were TDY (Temporary Duty) to Tyndall AFB.

While Reginald and Beatrix sniffed in disdain that their daughter was marrying a commoner, Cecil and Katarina prayed fervently that their Paul would find happiness with his bride. She looked pretty, but she seemed aloof, like she was too good for Paul. He didn't buy his way through Harvard medical school. He actually has many credits from community college and the Air Force put him through medical school.

They said their vows and soon the pastor said, "by the power vested in me by the state of Arizona I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." And they kissed and Paul was never happier. All he could dream of was a partner and have a marriage like his folks who work together in everything.

There was a reception at a convention hall, and everyone had a great time except John. He didn't like Melony and her entire family, and he just wanted to grab his brother Paul and run. "Here," said Monica. "Maybe some orange juice will loosen you up."

"Thank you," said John and he sipped the orange juice, not realizing he was also sipping champagne, Grand Mariner, and a dose of blotter acid. "It's kind of fizzy."

"That's probably Seven Up," said Monica, who couldn't wait for the show.

"Come on Johnny," said Katarina. "Get in line," and she pushed him back into the reception line.

John had been to Arizona before, but he didn't realize how bright the colors were. In fact, some of the colors were whispering to him. The air conditioning kicked in, but to John it sounded like rain.

"What's the matter John?" Paul whispered.

John was trembling, the rain was frigid, and he was soaked. He could smell the rain and the dumpster that Paul was in. "Hungry."

"Dinner will be in a few minutes."

A snake made only of the color red whispered in John's ear, "Go! Run for your life! Satan comes!"

"Gotta go... Satan is coming," John said, and he walked across the room, bumping into furniture and looking around in fear. He was blocked in. John couldn't see an exit. He turned around and, seeing the only port in a storm, he reached out his hands in terror. "Paul... Paul help me!," he cried. A loud burst of lavender startled him and he dashed for the door, but he tripped over a chair and fell flat on his face.

"Mom, get my bag," said Paul as he knelt next to John. When he graduated from medical school, his parents gave him an old-fashioned looking medical bag full of some of the most modern gear a physician would need in an emergency. "Shush, it's ok John, it's me. I'm right here," said Paul over and over. "I'm taking care of you John, it's going to be ok."

John's wild eyes looked around in terror, "Satan is here... run Paul!"

Several other doctors from the base hospital kneeled around John as Paul got his statistics. "BP is rocketing, two hundred over one oh two, temperature one hundred, pupils are dilated and unresponsive..."

"It's acid," whispered a doc that Paul works with often.

"You sure?" asked Paul.

"I'd bet the rent."

"Shit." He stood and looked around the room. "Did anyone give my brother anything?"

"Just a mimosa with a little extra" said Monica. She shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Extra what?" demanded Paul in a tone of voice that informed Monica that her life was now in jeopardy.

"Just some extra Grand Mariner and a dash of Lucy." Monica shrugged again. "He was being a tight ass."

"You drugged a man who has never taken a drink in his life for FUN?" hollered Paul. "You're SICK!"

"You don't have to speak in that tone of voice young man," said Melony's father Reginald.

A pair of fighter pilots drew themselves up to full height and stood uncomfortably close to Reginald, glared down on him and said, "You will address Captain Jarecki as Doctor. And you better tell your idiot daughter that the police are on the way and we will hand her over, acid is illegal in Arizona."

Paul didn't hear any of that exchange. He was kneeling by John along with his mom and dad. "We're all here Johnny, it's ok, you tell me if you see anything weird." The rest of the day was a complete blur to Paul, Katarina, and Cecil, but it was worse for Melony and Monica. One by one, after giving their names to the Office of Special Investigations, the fighter pilots of the 327th, Melony's squadron, walked past Monica and said, "Thanks bitch," then left.

"What?" shrugged Monica. "Why are they so worked up?"

"They're grounded!" shouted Melony. "Every flier here is grounded until we pass a drug test and are interviewed by the OSI. That could be weeks. We all lose our flight pay and that can be a thousand dollars a month."

"I only gave it to him," Monica said as she pointed to the stretcher being loaded on the ambulance.

"Prove it."

"Just him, I swear! He was such a tight ass! Besides, you're going to Hawaii on your honeymoon in a few..."

Monica was interrupted by a slap from Melony. "I'm not going anywhere thanks to YOU. I will send you the bill for all of this, bitch." And she left to follow Paul to the hospital.

"I'll take care of it," sighed Reginald, as he hugged an angry Melony.

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In the Emergency Department, John was fighting back at the restraints. Satan was telling him things, horrible things and he wanted to run, but he couldn't get away. "Make him stop!" screamed John.

The only thing that calmed him was Paul's voice. "I'm right here John, tell me what he's saying." John repeated the things that Satan was telling him, promising global death, famine, plague, and war in lurid detail.

"Please Doctor Jarecki, you know you can't treat him," said the ED doctor.

"I'm not here to treat him, I'm here to support him and translate what you say for my parents. Now say something I can tell them."

Melony came up behind Paul and hugged him. "Are you always there to catch him when he falls?"

"Yes, we're brothers, he does the same for me."

Melony softly whispered in his ear, "Will you catch me if I fall too?"

"I'm your husband, of course I will. It's my job."

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Paul and Melony eventually got orders overseas, so they spent a few days in Manhattan to visit Melony's parents. It was a trip that Paul despised, but at least Monica had the brains to stay away. After Manhattan, Paul and Melony ended up in Western New York for a week of peace at a bed and breakfast in Ellicottville, NY. The area south of Springville turned out to be beautiful, and both Paul and Melony were enchanted.

Paul smiled and said, "It's quiet in the summer but it will be busy in winter. This is ski country."

"I love skiing!" said Melony. She surveyed the hills and said, "Yeah, there's ski runs over there!"

"That's Holimont and over there is Holiday Valley. Up that way is Holiday Valley Tubing Park."

"Tubing down a river?"

"Nope. Tubing down a hill, it's sledding on tubes."

"Can we live here when we're done with our tours?"

"And be a country doctor fixing broken legs?" They laughed at the attractive idea. Paul owed Uncle Sam six more years, and then he could legitimately get out. Another six after that to retire. It was a decision to make after they get back from Japan, so until then, Melony would fly, and Paul would work on getting his specialty in cardiology. The minute Melony was tired of flying, there were other plans they could pursue.

They drove north on highway 219 through the beautiful hamlet of Ashford Hollow to Springville, then Orchard Park. "There's dad's main lot," said Paul as they drove past acres of brand new Mercedes, Porche, Ferrari, and Bentley supercars.

"Wow," said Melony, now embarrassed that her father called Cecil a 'used car salesman.' They had orders to Okinawa and wanted to say goodbye to everyone before heading to Japan. They rolled into a modest home in Williamsville and Melony said, "Your dad lives in this little house?"

Paul shrugged. "It's easy to clean and the yard is easy to cut. You met Mom and Dad, they're not pretentious, they'd rather spend money on making more money."

"There's people that can do their housework..." sputtered Melony.

"Mom and dad are first generation. Let them ease into the American dream." Which caused Melony to laugh.

"Tell your dad that for one of those Porsche's I'll do his laundry."

"Tell him yourself," said Paul as they stepped up onto the front porch. There in the cool shade were Katarina, Cecil, and John, just enjoying the warm afternoon.

"Paulie!" cried Katarina as she hugged her oldest son.

"You want a Porche?" asked Cecil as he hugged his daughter-in-law. "Go pick what you want and we'll talk, just don't touch the burgundy red ones."

"Burgundy red? What's so special about them?"

"Only dad and his head mechanic Darwin are in on the joke and they're not sharing any information," said Paul.

John Matthew Jarecki still felt that he had to get as far away from Arizona as possible. He embarrassed everyone and grounded an entire squadron of fliers. "I'm so sorry," said John.

"It wasn't you," said Paul for what had to be the hundredth time. "You were drugged, poisoned by..." he bit his tongue. Melony was nearby, and he had to hold back his colorful descriptions of his sister-in-law. "That was two years ago, Melony and I are going to Japan for a few years and we'll be back to celebrate your doctor of theology degree, right?"

John took a deep breath and said, "I enrolled in the École de Théologie Évangélique du Québec."

"Holy crap! Can you speak enough French to survive in the land of poutine and maple syrup?"

"Je l'espère bien."

"He's been running around speaking nothing but Canuck for three years," groaned Cecil.

"He can't speak the lords language but he can speak French," pouted Katarina as she knitted a pair of baby booties.

"The lords language... Latin?" asked Melony with a whisper.

"Polish," said Paul. "Who are the booties for mom?"

"You two! I have a dozen blue and a dozen pink. I'm starting on yellow and green in case you get one that can't make up its mind. Now bring me babies!"

"I warned you," whispered Paul.

"Momma Jarecki, let me fly for a few more years, then we'll have more babies than you can knit for."

"Promises, promises..." said Katarina, not looking up from her knitting but trying to hide a smile.

"I'm allergic to birth control pills and latex, so the minute we go off rhythm you'll have your babies."

"Promises, promises..." and she blew Melony a kiss.

They sat on the porch enjoying the warm sunshine, the refreshing breezes, the smell of the flowers and the hum of the hummingbirds as the tiny birds buzzed the feeders that Momma Katarina had around the front yard. John poured lemonade with a splash of tequila for Mom and Melony, one with a dash of vodka for dad, and straight up lemonade for himself and John. He ducked back into the house and came out with a guitar and a guitarrone, a Mexican base guitar.

"It's been so long," said John as he strummed the guitar, finding it just a little out of tune. They played a few chords, then began strumming a few cowboy songs from the old cowboy movies that their dad loves. It didn't take long to get the old skills back.

It was the very best of times...

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"You're my new student?" said the sour-looking professor. Actually, she was beautiful. Breath-takingly beautiful, slim yet shapely, and her brown eyes drilled into John's soul, but she had a scowl on her face that ruined the image.

"Yes ma'am," said John, hitting the letter A in ma'am hard like a good Buffalonian. Only a Buffalonian could make a vowel sound like an insult. "Da letter right here in my hand says dat my advisor is Doctor Marie-Claude Solange Dagenais."

"Tu pronounces bien mon nom," (You pronounce my name well)

"Oui madame, j'ai pratiqué" (Yes ma'am, I have been practicing) and from that moment onward, all conversations with Doctor Dagenais were in French. She lectured in French, she questioned in French, she tested in French.

Dr. Marie-Claude Solange Dagenais was a former fashion model who went into academic theology and stayed there teaching class after class of prospective pastors but never having preached a sermon herself. Born of Nigerian descent, Marie-Claude Solange Dagenais' slim figure, striking features and coal black skin got her jobs in modeling when she was young and she made enough money to leave her family's world in a small Quebec fishing village behind, to strike out on her own, eventually and inexplicably winding up in the seminary.

She loved God, and she loved theological academia and when given the chance to pastor her own church, she turned it down for a teaching job at the École de Théologie Évangélique du Québec, the leading evangelical seminary in Quebec. She loved preparing young women and men for a life of leading a church, then she met John Jarecki, who exploded that life.

John really and truly didn't care about her skin color, and in a country that's less than 3 percent black, regardless of where she goes or what she does, her color always proceeded her through the door. And being especially dark, she was considered a femme de curiosité noir, a black female curiosity first, foremost, and never a woman of God. John wanted to dig down, to meet and embrace that woman of God, and to correct the nonsense her head had been filled with.

For the first year, he studied her teachings. Compared to the bible they were all wrong, which John appreciated. John was a contrary student. He actually learned more from a poor teacher than a good one. He researched furiously to find the correct information, and when a teacher proved to be a bad teacher, John would not trust a single word that the teacher said and worked tirelessly to correct the teacher's lecture.

That's not to say that John disliked the teacher. He never disliked a single teacher in his past except for Mr. Grimes, an abusive gym teacher. He was released by the school district during John's seventh grade year. But even the bad ones, John had a talent to correct them in a way that left them grateful for his help. However, Dr. Marie-Claude Solange Dagenais was not a bad teacher, she was an outstanding teacher; it was the material she taught that was bad and John wanted to help her see that and correct it.

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Occasionally, on Sunday Morning John's phone would ring and a fellow from California would say, "Is this John Jarecki?" and mangle John's last name.

"Yes it is."

"I have a Paul on the line from Okinawa Japan, do you want to speak with him?"

"Yes!" cried John. Other than lunch with Dr. Dagenais, this was the highlight of John's life and soon he heard squawking static from AM radio. Through the noise he heard "Johnnie! How are you doing in Quebec? Over."