Chapter 10
Bored with the landscape, Georgia slumped in her seat and rested a foot on the dashboard. Suppressing a yawn, she said, "I'd like to see a forest. I'm tired of desert."
"You don't like the mountains?" Oscar asked pointing to the peaks that surrounded them.
"We've been driving over mountains or between mountains for a month now. You'd think there would have been a forest at some point, but no," Georgia said. They had been driving from one small out of the way place to another for so long that it was all beginning to blur in her mind. Occasionally they would visit a larger town, but their stays would be short.
"It could be worse," Oscar said knowing that a crisis was brewing on the horizon.
"How?"
"It could be snowing."
Georgia shuddered at the thought of being stuck out there in the middle of nowhere in a snowstorm. She said, "Don't even think it."
Oscar laughed in the hope to lighten the mood and said, "We might have some pull with the Gods and Goddesses. Are you sure that you wouldn't like to go skiing?"
"No thank you," Georgia said.
Knowing that he hadn't been successful in lifting her mood, Oscar said, "I'm sorry."
She looked out the window at the vast empty panorama surrounding them. It needed to be filled with something. Swallowing heavily, she admitted that she was feeling as empty as the landscape. In a soft voice, she said, "I miss Debbie."
"So do I," Oscar said.
"I may be bored, but she must be miserable," Georgia said. She could picture Debbie walking to and from work alone; returning to an empty apartment every evening only to spend the night crying.
"We'll be in Kazakhstan soon. Maybe she can fly there and join us for a while," Oscar said knowing that the offer would be rejected.
"Oh that's a perfect idea. We'll invite her to come to Kazakhstan. She'll get to see boring steppes, decaying factories, and eat horse sausages," Georgia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. With tears starting to form in her eyes, she said, "Debbie is too soft for this kind of life. She'd be miserable with us."
"She's stronger than you think," Oscar said.
Georgia broke down and cried. Oscar stopped the truck and gathered her in his arms. Rubbing her back, he said, "Now, now. Things will be okay."
"I miss her so much," Georgia sobbed while hating the fact that she was crying on his shoulder. She had always thought of herself as a strong woman not given to tears.
"When we get to Astana I want you to get on a plane and fly to Israel. Let her know how much we love her. Let her know how much I miss her," Oscar said.
Georgia navigated through the airport procedures for leaving the country without any problems. Oscar watched as passport control looked at her passport and discussed the appropriate visas and entry dates on it, despite the fact that there were no such visas. One man had even commented on how unusual it was for an American to enter the country through some specific border crossing.
Airport security even allowed Oscar to accompany Georgia all of the way to the gate. Once they reached the gate, they sat in chairs that had never been in style waiting for the announcement to board. Oscar said, "We'll meet in Perm, Russia on the second Saturday of December."
"You're sure that I'll be able to get into Israel?" Georgia asked feeling a little uncertain about crossing borders without him being with her. So far they had never been stopped when going from one country to another. This trip would have her showing up in Israel without a visa from a country in which she didn't have a visa. She could imagine spending the rest of her life in an Israeli prison.
"The Powers That Be don't respect borders," Oscar said. He rested his left ankle on his right knee and shook his foot with nervous energy.
"I'm not a Goddess," Georgia said nervously.
"That's because you don't see yourself the way that I see you," Oscar said with a smile.
"You know what I mean," Georgia said rolling her eyes. Oscar never missed a chance to compliment her. Normally she appreciated it, but at the moment she was worried and his comments were not helping.
Reaching over to touch her white hair, he said, "They're watching over you."
"They are watching over you," Georgia said feeling as if she was the one abandoning him. The little kernel of guilt threatened to explode.
With a gentle touch, Oscar ran a hand over her face. She leaned into his palm. In a firm voice, he said, "They are watching over you. One of them gave you the gift of languages and left a mark on you for all to see. You don't think the white hair was just to make you look sexier, do you?"
Georgia laughed and said, "Sexier? No, I don't think my hair was turned white so that I would look sexier."
It was good to see her laughing again. The past few days she had been pensive and anxious. It hurt to watch her, but Oscar knew that she had to make this trip. The loud speaker announced that her flight was ready to board. Together they walked over to the gate. Once there, Oscar took her into his arms and kissed her. Breaking the kiss, he said, "You'll be okay."
"Thank you, Oscar," Georgia said.
It was hard for Oscar to watch Georgia get on board the Russian plane for the trip. Georgia would fly into Greece and then on into Israel. She would meet Debbie at the airport and spend the next three weeks with her.
The snow was as deep as Oscar had ever seen and was continuing to come down heavily. The flakes were the size of quarters and so thick that visibility was only a few feet beyond the front of the truck. Using the gift of foresight, Oscar continued to drive without concern. He only had two kilometers to go before he reached his destination for the night. It was only a little more than a mile, but it would take ten minutes to reach it.
The guard in the small shack was freezing cold and wondered why he was there. No one in their right mind would be out on an evening like this one. The snow was so thick that he could barely see the barrier that blocked access to the base. His situation wasn't all that bad; he got off in an hour and wouldn't have to stand guard through the night. That was when it would really get cold.
The sudden appearance of lights headed towards the shack startled the guard. His first thought was that it was a UFO because only a space alien would be out in a storm like this one. When it resolved itself as a truck and stopped two feet from the barrier, he wondered what he was supposed to do. Adjusting his coat, he opened the door and started to approach the truck. He stopped and went back for his gun.
Oscar rolled down the window and waited for the guard to approach. When the guard was a meter from the door, Oscar said, "Hello. I hope you are enjoying this lovely Russian weather as much as I am."
The unexpected comment derailed the guard's thoughts. Usually people showed up at the gate ready to argue why they should be admitted. He figured it was just his luck to have a crazy man show up when he was on guard duty. Recovering slightly, he asked, "Who are you and why are you here?"
"I'm Oscar Meyers and I'm here to say hello to my friend, the base commander."
"You know the base commander?" the soldier asked getting a bad feeling about this.
"No," Oscar answered with a smile.
"Oh," the guard said. He stared at Oscar for a full thirty seconds trying to decide what to do. If it hadn't been so cold, he would have stared a full minute. He kept thinking that this had to be a joke. Someone on the base had driven the truck off the base through a different gate and returned to this one just to make him feel stupid. He asked, "What did you say your name was?"
"Oscar Meyers."
"Let me call my superiors," the guard said deciding that was the best action he could perform. No one was going to believe him when he reported that someone had driven up to the gate in the middle of the worst snowstorm in living memory.
"Okay," Oscar said. He rolled up the window to wait for the chain of command to engage this little surprise.
Thirty minutes later, a dozen privates with rifles arrived at the truck marching behind an officer. The officer stared at the truck for a moment and then approached the door. Oscar rolled down the window and said, "Hello. I hope I didn't interrupt your evening meal."
"Who are you and why are you here?" the officer asked.
"I'm Oscar Meyers and I'm here to see my friend, the base commander," Oscar answered with a smile. He seemed to recall having said exactly the same thing a half hour earlier.
"Do you know the base commander?" the officer asked wondering what he was doing out in the middle of a storm like this. He decided that he wasn't going to be out there much longer.
"No," Oscar answered wondering how much longer he was going to have to sit in the truck. He would have arrested himself long before now.
The officer turned to the soldiers with him and said, "Throw him in the brig and move this damned truck out of the way."
"You have real leadership potential," Oscar said with approval.
The officer glared at Oscar and turned to the guard who had detained him. In a low growl, he asked, "Why didn't you just arrest him?"
"He said that he was here to see the base commander," the guard answered. For all he knew, the base commander could be Vodka buddies with the guy. The last thing he wanted to do was get the base commander mad at him. If this post was in the middle of nowhere, it was still better than Siberia.
"Idiot. He said he didn't know the base commander," the officer said shaking his head. He'd deal with the guard later. For now he was cold. The guard was left standing in the cold as the officer walked off to the warmth of the brig where he would interview the prisoner.
The soldiers led Oscar off to the brig. They weren't too happy about being out in the cold. Despite that, they weren't rough in their treatment of him. As they walked along, Oscar turned to one of the soldiers and asked, "How long would it take to change out the wheels on the truck over to snow tracks?"
The soldier knew the answer, but he didn't say a word. He didn't like the fact that he was going to have to tell the officer that this person knew about the conversion package for changing the rear tires into tracks and the front tires into skis. The package for that model truck was still a secret.
Glancing over at the soldier with a wry smile, Oscar said, "I know it is supposed to take about three hours, but you're going to have to use a blowtorch to get the nuts off the wheels since they are covered in ice. I'm pretty sure that'll add about two hours."
The soldier looked over at Oscar unable to believe that he would know those details. With his attention diverted, he walked into the soldier in front of him. They had stopped to open the door to the building in which the jail cells were located. Rather than continue with the rest of the soldiers in taking Oscar to a cell, he went in search of the officer in charge.
Oscar was drinking a bottle of water from the pocket of his robe when the officer came to the cell. The man didn't look very happy at what he had heard, much less what he was seeing. Now that they were out of the storm, he recognized Oscar. Opening the cell door, the officer entered the cell and sat down on the bed next to his prisoner. Eyeing the bottle with more than passing interest, he said, "I hope that is Vodka."
"Sorry, it's water. I'm sure if you call the base commander that he'll bring over a bottle of Vodka," Oscar said with a grin.
"You're that Druid who is going around talking to God," the officer said feeling rather uneasy. There had been a time when admitting to being a religious man would have been a problem for him. Under the current government that wasn't an issue. Of course, like all things in Russia, that could change. Shaking his head, he said, "I should have remembered your name. Oscar Meyers isn't very Russian."
"And who are you?"
"I am Colonel Gudzenko." He had come into the room intending to interrogate Oscar concerning his knowledge about the conversion package. They were the only base with the package for the model truck Oscar had been driving. If God was involved, there was no chance of hiding a minor Russian secret. The only question that remained was what he was to do now.
"It is nice to meet you Colonel. Of course, you know why I'm here."
"You are here to outfit your truck to travel in this storm," the Colonel said.
"Yes, I am. I have a wife to pick up in ten days and I want to be there despite the lovely Russian weather," Oscar said.
"If that is the only reason you want the conversion package, we can arrange a jet to fly you there," the Colonel said. He'd heard that the white haired woman had gone to Israel. Even here in the sticks of Russia people were following what was happening with regard to the Druid.
"Well, I do have a few mosques and churches to visit on the way there," Oscar said holding his palms up to the sky as if he had no choice.
"I thought as much," Colonel Gudzenko said coming to a decision. He sighed and stood up from the bed.
Oscar looked around the room. It was very similar to the holding areas used by the American Army. Nodding his head, he said, "Nice jail. I was actually expecting much worse than this."
"The ones you are thinking of are up north in Siberia," the Colonel said with a short laugh. If he was wrong about his decision, he could end up as a guard at one of those facilities. Looking down at Oscar, he said, "I'll take you to General Patokin, now."
Oscar rose and put an arm around the Colonel's shoulder. In a friendly voice, he said, "Did you know that he and I have something in common?"
"Yes, you are both going to be instrumental in making my life miserable," the Colonel said.
Oscar laughed and said, "No. We both fought in Afghanistan. It was at different times, but we were both in the same area of the country."
Colonel Gudzenko could think of worse ways of spending an evening than listening to tales about Afghanistan but it wouldn't be easy. A few candidates came to mind. Having a root canal without anesthetic would just edge it out. On second thought, he decided that he'd rather visit the dentist. He said, "Oh joy."
"Don't worry. There will be lots of Vodka," Oscar said with a grin.
General Patokin was a perfect example of a modern Russian General. He was clean shaven and physically fit, rather than the mustached rotund figure of a man that was characteristic of World War II generals. There was a very real sense of strength about the man. Unlike American Generals, he smoked cigarettes. He did so in the Russian style, palm up, with the cigarette held between his thumb and fingers with the butt towards his palm.
Opening the window of his room, he threw a cigarette out into the snow. He leaned out the window and pulled another bottle of vodka out of the snow. He held it up for Oscar to see. He closed the window and turned to face Oscar. Gesturing to the bottle with his free hand, he said, "One more my friend and then we must call it a night."
Looking over at the still form of Colonel Gudzenko, Oscar held out his glass and said, "Fill her up, General."
"I am pleased to see that you appreciate good vodka. I had heard that Americans don't really like vodka served the proper way. They ruin it by mixing it with orange juice. What a waste," the General said while pouring vodka into Oscar's glass. It was a regular water glass, not a little shot glass. He only filled it half full. He glanced over at the Colonel and said, "The poor man can't hold his vodka. That's why he's not a general yet."
Oscar laughed along with the General. He pointed to the man sprawled on his chair and said, "Well, he did start out a little faster than us. I think he drank most of that first bottle and half of the second."
"You'd think he didn't want to hear our stories about Afghanistan," the General said with a laugh. He had enjoyed listening to how Oscar had approached fighting the terrorists. His time spent there as a Captain had been horrible.
"I got that definite impression," Oscar said.
Getting serious, the General sat down in his chair. He said, "This thing you are doing. Do you really think it will change the world?"
"Yes," Oscar answered in a voice equally as serious.
"Peace in that part of the world will be good. You probably don't know this, but my Great-Grandmother was Jewish. That isn't a good thing in this part of the world. It always bothered me how we've supported the Arabs. I felt like I was being dishonest to my blood. I thought our war in Afghanistan would change that, but it didn't.
"The Middle East was a very unstable chessboard on which we played our Cold War games. We supported Iraq, Iran, Syria, and Libya. The Americans supported Israel, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. The Cold War is over but the pieces of our old chessboard do not know it. Now that the Americans have Iraq, we continue to support Iran and Syria. The main reason is that they are against the Americans. The Cold War may be over, but the feelings are still a little tender.
"It has become a great waste of our money. The only thing they have is oil and that is worthless with the widespread adoption of fusion technology," the General said. It reminded him that it was another Druid who had invented the Fusion Cell. He said, "I will be glad when we don't have to take sides there."
"Same here," Oscar said.
"For most of my career I wasn't a religious man. I know that it seems strange for a man who has fought in a war to say that he wasn't religious. I believed in God and, just before the bullets flew, I prayed to God to save me. All soldiers do that before and after the battle, but not during. There isn't enough time during battle to pray. Still, I never really considered myself religious."
Oscar smiled and said, "I understand exactly what you are saying. I was a soldier in a war zone before I became a Druid."
"Now that I'm coming to the end of my career as an officer, I think about God a little more often. I was so surprised by the message in the church. I think it is a very good one," the General said.
"Why?"
After taking a drink of his vodka, the General said, "I read the Bible and it tells me what I'm supposed to do. You know what I mean. We are supposed to turn the other cheek, love our neighbor, and let the meek inherit the earth. The problem is that the Bible never told us what we needed to know in order to do that. The message that God gave you tells us how."
"Interesting," Oscar said trying to be non-committal. His role was to deliver the message; not to interpret it.
"That's why I'm convinced that your trip to all of these churches and mosques will bring an end to the senseless killing," General Patokin said. He thought that peace wouldn't come quickly, but that it stood a chance now. It was hard to hate a person when you saw a lot of yourself in them. The words that had been given to Oscar were a lesson in empathy.
"I'm glad," Oscar said. He took a sip of the vodka.
"That's why I'll arrange for your truck to be outfitted with the treads. You'll be able to travel through the thickest snow. Of course, I have no idea how you'll see to drive, but I leave that problem to you."
Oscar said, "Thank you."
"If there is any way you can arrange it, I'd appreciate it if you could change the Made In Russia markings on it to Made in Japan. I'll probably get into a lot less trouble when my superiors learn about what I did," the General said with a wink.
Oscar raised his glass and said, "Here's to them never finding out."
"Here's to you," the General said raising his glass in a toast. He lifted his glass and drank it dry. He watched Oscar do the same and then gave him a hearty nod. He said, "Not only do you speak Russian like a Russian, you drink Vodka like a Russian."
"Thank you," Oscar said feeling a little dizzy. He was pretty sure that another glass of vodka would put him in the same state as the Colonel.
The General looked over at the Colonel and, winking at Oscar, said, "I guess I'll just have to tell him all about my adventures in Afghanistan tomorrow when he wakes. I'm sure that will help his headache."
Oscar burst out laughing at the comment. He could just imagine the Colonel trying to stop the pounding in his head while the General described the explosions of bombs going off around him in some battle. Grinning, he said, "General Patokin, you have a wicked sense of humor."
The General carried the bottle of vodka to the window. He opened the
window and set the bottle into the snow where it would stay cold until
he had his next evening of drinks. Closing the window, he said, "Help
me take Colonel Kudzenko to his quarters and then I'll show you where
you can sleep tonight. In the morning, they'll fix your truck and you
can go on your way."