2012: Cult De Muerte [ER] by Robby Richardson - HTML preview

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“All aboard,” cried a man with large aviator sunglasses and a large black mustache. He swayed his large brown safari hat in his chubby hand as he waved it over the harsh African landscape. The large open jeep stood rusted under the baking sun. The landscape of Kenya was truly a sight of life and death. The tall grass blew in the breeze as the small amount of trees would provide little protection against the sun. “Is there another bus that we could take,” Monique’s voice sounded cooked by the sun. It took a special kind of person to do the work that Rory and her friends were undertaking. Their decision to help the people of Sudan was not based on religion. It was based on the essence of humanity.

“Hey Rory,” she turned and watched her friend Monique snapping her fingers in front of her face. She slapped them away, “alright, alright Monique . . . what is it”? “You’re the one that has coordinated this whole thing with Subin, can’t we get another jeep . . . preferably one with a roof and sides . . . not a rusted black security cage? I mean look he tied all the stuff onto a board to the roof Rory!” Rory ran her hands through her own strawberry blond hair, “No this is the middle of Kenya, not a car lot Monique. We have to take the bus that the church provides . . . or in this case tells us to take to get to their bus.” Rory watched Monique roll her eyes, which always meant she was frustrated. Rory tried to ignore it, but knowing that Monique wouldn’t drop it she stopped her before she could pick up steam. “Look if you don’t like it Monique YOU can actually go out and try to find another jeep.” Her black braids swung slightly as she replied, “And what good would I do? I am not the brain that speaks several languages . . . because I’m black I gotta speak Swahili! We all weren’t blessed with your background knowledge living in France and Germany . . . having a summer home in Vienna. Some of us grew up in the ghetto . . . not with a silver . . .” “Well whatever Monique this is what the church said! We are going to meet up with a guide and she will help us through to the camp. They got us this far already right? So don’t complain unless you’re going to change something. You’re always complaining can’t you just be cool . . . for me?”

“I don’t always complain,” the rest of her rant was lost when a black bag was tossed at their feet. “Yeah and Africa isn’t hot as shit,” a boy as dark as night was smiling jovially at them. He was skinny and looked grossly underfed despite the fact of his deepest love of food. His one dream was to be a great chef of African cuisines. “Well if you weren’t always scoring for food Chriz, you might be able to see the predicament you’re in”. He shrugged as he continued to smile, “Monique when you grow up with little food and no sleep, you will appreciate it when you’re allowed to have it”. Monique placed her hand on her hip and pursed her lips, “mhm . . . I’m from the ghetto Chriz don’t let my round figure fool ya! And sleeping until the bus begins to board is not polite either my friend!” “Well if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black,” Rory laughed as she saw Monique’s face turn to shock, “why you racist son of bitch!” Rory watched Chriz laugh at Monique’s over reaction as he turned to Rory blowing her off. “So what do I do with this?” Chriz kicked his large bag, “I still don’t feel right leaving the bags here . . . I mean can we trust the camp to bring the rest of our stuff?” Rory nodded, “I know it’s weird but that is what Subin wants. Subin wants us to just get there . . . bring what you need for the first night was what she said.” They both laughed at her mocking Subin’s Canadian accent until a scattered bunch of people began to board.

They entered the stretched safari jeep that was already a third of the way full. They tried to ignore the people as Monique’s round figure had trouble slipping easily down the middle of the jeep. Rory saw many faces, but tried to ignore their confused and awe struck glances. After all college students from America were something that they probably rarely saw. Even Monique had noticed the glances, especially towards Rory. They took seats towards the back. The ripped up black seats were uncomfortable and old. The dried mold and mildew seemed to cling to their backs. “Jeez, you would think that they would be grateful or at least thank us. After all we are giving up an entire semester to help them.” “Well, Monique,” Chriz grabbed the iron pole, “it’s not like we are helping them specifically we are going to help the most troubled of my people.” Knowing another spat was about to be performed Rory changed the subject, “so I never asked you Chriz, what’s it like to be back in the homeland”? He shrugged, “I never knew much about it . . . only child in Kamala, but my parents and I left the camps when I was young. We got out and made our way to America. I was raised in America and I am an American. But everybody should visit their roots from time to time, just so happens mine are dying. I just got to provide that helping hand, and as long as I can cook and learn too then this trip was worth it.” He fell silent when the driver swung into his seat trying with difficulty to avoid taking the steps. “Welcome everybody it is a great day to be here in Lokichogio. My name is Thomas Pickerten, but everybody just calls me Toothpick”.

Monique started to laugh at this comment. “What’s so funny,” asked Rory nudging her friend who said, “give ya two guesses why!” “Is that all you ever have on your mind?” Monique didn’t respond she just giggled a little more, “We will be crossing over the border into Sudan. The first stop is the town of Torit. We will be making no stops between both destinations this is for your safety. We will drive straight through to umm . . . Qantur.” Unsure of how to grab his attention Rory raised her hand, “um . . . excuse me?” The man stopped talking, “we need to go to the refugee camp Kamala”. The look of horror that struck Toothpick’s face was priceless, “and . . . and what do you need to go over there for?” She pointed at her, Chriz and Monique “We are part of the Blessed Women of the Sacred Heart. We are aid workers. They have a bus for us in Qantur right?” Toothpick’s appearance now changed to concern, “don’t you realize the danger you are putting yourselves in”? Rory rose her hand, “trust me we have heard a months’ worth of protesting and arguments from our families. We’ve taken many classes, attended plenty of presentations, and even some survival classes . . . we know the risks.” “DO YOU,” he yelled as if he wasn’t getting through to them. Rory sat their perplexed by the large orangutan’s sudden change of emotion. With every eye staring at her she simply replied, “Yeah . . . how exactly are we going to get to the bus? We were also promised a guide to  the camp as well.”

His eyes narrowed in examination. He still looked unsure about them but after he glanced at the sun he seemed to come to his senses. “My son Anthony will escort you to the Sister’s . . . well speak of the devil, late again I see”!A man who had completely gone unnoticed marched up the steps with a large black suitcase in his hands, “sorry dad I was just stocking up the survival pack and filling out the last bit of paperwork.” The boy was young looking, too innocent to survive the harshness that land certainly required. His skin looked baked under the hot African sun giving it a bronzed look. He was older mid-twenties but by his father’s reaction to him his maturity must be younger. His father raised his finger, “if you would have packed it the night before we wouldn’t be in this mess!” He nodded silently, “now go sit down and keep a watch”. He nodded again and  dropped the bag into the seat. His face rose up as he locked eyes with Rory.

His surprised look of somebody like her in this territory must have been a sight to see. He smiled until his back was turned and took a seat in front of an older woman with a flowered rag tied around her  head  and  neck.  “Wow . . . he’s really cute girl,” Rory nodded adding, “yeah,  hard  to believe . . . maybe this ride won’t be so long and boring after all”. “Boring,” laughed Monique, “a long drive across an African wilderness with your two best friends. What’s better than that”? “Maybe a little back seat romp with Mr. Safari there,” Chriz elbowed her adding, “am I right there Rory?” “You’re sick Chriz! Thank god food is your obsession and not sex . . . I’d probably go insane if you were hitting on me all the time.” They laughed as the driver had been talking the entire time to the group. “There are two rules on this bus. One . . . keep your hands in the jeep. Touching the wildlife or even reaching out towards anything we might come across along the way could mean disaster. The second rule is my word is law and if I ask you to do something you do it. I have traveled this land for over twenty years.” I turned to see Chriz saying “Toothpick . . . there aren’t any seat belts or anything! What happens if we are in an accident?” Toothpick stared at us again, “that . . . that’s what the survival pack is for any other questions?”

Toothpick stared at them and then quickly turned to the rest of the group, “well, I guess we will be on our way. We should be in Qantur in about eight to nine hours. First stop, Torit.” Monique crossed her arms and grumbled, “Great eight to nine hours on a bus with no bathroom.” Toothpick sat behind the wheel and they were soon on their way. The road was bumpy and the entire luggage on the roof rattled in its place. The African landscape was breath taking and the city behind them grew more distant. The wilderness became more pronounced the farther from the city they traveled. A large giraffe lapped at some leaves. Rory pointed to it as it turned its head with a mouthful of green. “Rory,” bellowed Monique’s voice. Rory’s attention was distracted from the giraffe and she gazed at her friend. “Are you sure that the rest of our stuff is safe? You said that they are going to bring it up to the camp right?” Placing her hand on her shoulder, “relax Monique they assured me that they will bring up the rest of our stuff. They buy food in Kenya and sneak it in because the rebels take all the food that comes in.” Chriz leaned across Rory, “it’s a starvation tactic that the rebels use to encourage loyalty. Fill their bellies and control their loyalty”. Rory gave a quick, “I guess that is why they wanted us there so quick . . . more hands the better and not to be held down by our entire luggage. After all we don’t really need much. I just want to do all I can for the starving people.”

Huffing slightly Rory leaned back in her uncomfortable bus seat and stared at the golden locks of the boy that came like a mirage from out of the desolate town. She watched him stare at a small pig that dug under a large mound of dirt. “What you thinking,” Monique was grinning from ear to ear as she had been looking at her the entire time. “Nothing Monique, I am not here to meet guys. I am here to help the neediest of the needy . . . isn’t that why you’re here”? Rory’s piercing stare made Monique’s round cheeks sag, “yeah well you know why . . . I am getting my foreign language requirement out of the way 12 credit hours AND it’s  the right thing to      do . . . but this isn’t about me. Girl, you have been broken up from Jeff for like a year. Time for you to move on . . . spread you wing and fly”. “Bet I know where she would like to sink her claws!” “Are you giving me problems too Chriz? This is not supposed to be fun. You of all people should know that!” She prodded him in the arm, “you were the one sitting there telling us about how dangerous it was to travel out here. This was your idea! Come join the church and help out. Volunteer and give something back to people that really need it!” Chriz gave a shocked expression as he retorted “I didn’t twist your arm Rory. You need to get over Jeff and Monique is here for here selfish academic needs.” “Hey watch it sticks and bones . . . I can still reach over there and beat you broken! Rory where is the guide they are supposed to be on the bus with us?”

“I’m sure the guide will meet us in Torit. I guess I just heard Subin wrong. I’m sure everything is fine after all you both didn’t care how we were getting to the camp so I had to set everything up with Subin alone. Besides I have never been to the Sudan at least you were born here Chriz.” Chriz scoffed “it’s not like I remember much of it! All my parents talked about before I left was the dangers that the militia poses to strangers”. His head lowered, “it’s too bad you had to lie to your parents Rory”. Rory patted him on the back, “thanks but my parents would kill me if they knew I was taking this journey”. “Rory we are doing the right thing . . . your parents would be proud to know that you are giving up your time to help the truly needy.” Chriz clapped his hands sarcastically, “and the Oscar for best drama goes to . . . Monique . . . oh my god stand up take a bow!” “You’re one to talk Chriz!” Rory laughed at the two of them and knew that this was going to be a fun bus trip.

They continued to travel down the dirt road as the bareness began to enter Rory’s thoughts. The grass swayed lightly in the African breeze and several times Rory thought her African dream tried to sneak a glance towards her. The bus rumbled and sputtered as they crossed over the border into Sudan. A small shack with two dirty guards dressed in all green was the only border patrol Sudan needed. Their large pole stretched across the single dusty lane stopping only the strongest of bicycles. The guards marched around the bus before glaring at every passenger. When their eyes landed on Rory and her friends their conversation had changed. Toothpick began to ramble and raised his hands as he seemed to struggle with an explanation for them. Two guards came aboard and checked every passenger for papers making sure to triple check Rory’s. She heard one of the guards sound out the church’s name and one even muttered, “Aid workers?” After a vicious stare from the clearly higher ranking officer, they disappeared off the jeep. With a final eruption of arguments the higher ranking officer waved them through leaving every soldier glaring at Rory and her friends as they passed. The dust rose behind them as Monique shielded her face, but Rory could already see a clear look of hostility. “Did . . . did you see that,” she said with a snap glaring at the soldiers as they grew smaller in the distance. “Oh no Monique don’t do this, don’t do this to me . . . not now you hear me?” “No did you see that?” Rory was already reaching for her hand, “please Monique you got to let it go”. “Nu uh, I gotta know,” Rory was reaching for her arm but Monique had already shoved her way through. She made her way up the center aisle grabbing the rails with every step. “Hey pick,” she yelled with Rory pleading behind her, “Monique this is not America you can’t do things like this!” Rory watched her descend upon Toothpick, “Hey what was all the trouble? You even let them come aboard . . . search our papers.” Toothpick barked “get back to your seat miss!” Monique shook her head, “not until you answer my question!” He frowned saying, “It’s Sudan, and they can do whatever they want . . .” he paused as he slowed over a large hole in the middle of the road. He stared up at her, “You think that three adolescent Americans are going to go unnoticed or unchecked?” Rory was already grabbing her arm, “you see Monique there is nothing wrong?” Monique shook her head, “no that can’t be all that  they  were  talking  about . . . what cha all talk about?” “None of your business now get back to your seat,” Rory tugged at her arm, “come on Monique, please just sit down.”“You made it my business because guess what it’s about me, so it concerns me.” The man chortled as the bus rolled on, “you Americans and your silly pride.”

“Pride,” Monique snapped as she lost her balance a little. Toothpick’s mustache ruffled as he growled, “always got to stick your nose into  business that doesn’t concern you.” “Sure looked like it concerned my friends and I!” Toothpick swerved a pot hole, “listen not that it’s any of your concern but they were talking to me about the migration and be warned of animal crossings. Now get back to your seat or I swear I will pull over and you can walk the rest of the way. I have already made my money, so what the hell do I need you for?” Rory felt hands on her shoulders. Chriz had apparently been standing behind her the whole time. He was now adding his own strength to Monique and finally she said, “Alright, alright, I’ll sit down!” Falling silent she returned to the back seat. “Why . . . Monique . . . . you know its stuff like this that makes me not hang out with you.” Chriz readjusted himself, “yeah you’re always wondering why we are getting upset and fighting with you . . . that is the reason, ok because of  that! I just hope you don’t act that way in the camp . . . remember we are doing this to do some good in the world.” “Yeah,” she said lightly, “look I’m sorry, alright guys?”

The rest of the ride went smoothly and a couple hours later they were entering the small town of Torit. They pulled up to the small police station and the truck rumbled to a stop. Toothpick rose from his seat and gave a large stretch before bellowing, “Son, remove the people’s luggage and we will continue on the road in an hour.” He raised his hand and pointed towards Rory and her friends, “you three . . . come with me and make sure you bring your papers.” Monique’s face began to grow stern, “no, Monique. I swear to god if you . . .” raising her hand to Rory’s warning “alright, alright Rory!” They gathered their papers and left with most of the remaining pitiful occupants of this rickety jeep ride.

The police station was a nightmare. Toothpick’s comment about Americans going unnoticed was gospel truth. The officers questioned them for an entire hour and finally they returned to the bus feeling like they had taken their high school A.C.T.’s again. They huffed all they way back to their seats before double checking to see if their small amount of luggage had been returned to the top. There were three other people on the jeep, an older woman that looked as if she could not have made her way off. Her gray hair was tangled under her decaying scarf. Her darkened hand looked knotted and twisted to the point of uselessness. The other two were a set of twins that looked accustomed to this landscape. Their turbans wrapped around their heads, they were quiet and never made as much as a peep. They only time that Rory was able to distinguish any feature was when she walked past them. Their heads bent low as she passed, she decided to shrug them off as just creeps.

“Alright everybody we are going to move on. It’s a long drive totaling around six hours . . . seven if the roads are flooded. We will not be stopping so everyone must under no circumstance stick their arms outside of the jeep. We are going to be entering dangerous territory. The jeep rocked and once again Rory’s dream came walking up the steps. Golden locks and a face now hard like the African wilderness demanded. His eyes were gentle but behind hem lay a mystery still yet to be discovered. They twinkled slightly when he saw her and for the first time she noticed how different he looked from his father Toothpick.

Toothpick’s son once again took the same seat he had before as his father continued, “alright from now on there is no stopping and nobody is to leave their seat under any circumstances unless instructed by me.” Toothpick  gave a weak smile and grew silent. Chriz gave a worried, “wow guess this must be really bad territory we are getting into huh?” Rory ignored him as she watched Toothpick lean towards his son, “You didn’t forget the guns right?” His golden locks swayed with his head, but stopped midway when his father added, “both of them . . . damn it boy how could you be so stupid”! “We got one dad, that’s good . . . the rebels don’t travel this far out,” his father leaned in closer. He was scowling, “I am not entering Hyena Land during migratory season without at least two guns!” His son shook his head, “we got one the others broken remember? The rebels smashed it.” Toothpick growled waving his arm in frustration, “you should have told me about this back in Lokichogio. It’s too late now!” His father looked livid and it turned into a disgusted rage. The mark of failure clear as Toothpick sat in the driver’s seat snarling “did you at least fill up the bus with fuel or was that too difficult?” He nodded slowly, “yea dad took all they had left, only a couple dollars’ worth.” His father slammed his fist, “damn it Anthony! It’s amazing how you haven’t been picked off by a lion or a rebel by now!” He pointed at his son as he turned on the engine, “you’re a lucky man. So let’s hope your luck doesn’t run out this time”.

Toothpick’s face was red but he covered it well with his large pair of aviator sunglasses. He snarled the whole way to his seat, he glared back at his son, “Did you at LEAST pack all the bags right so they don’t fall out in the middle of Hyena Land?” “Yeah dad, look alright . . . I’m not stupid!” “Sometimes I wonder Anthony . . . I really wonder.” Rory was preparing for a long ride when a loud banging came from the side of the jeep. “Wait, wait,” came the loud voice of a woman running next to it. The woman huffed up the stairs, “thank god you didn’t leave! I saw the jeep earlier and there was nobody here, when I left for the bathroom, well . . . the rest is history.” Toothpick stared at her with confusion, “and who are you exactly?” The younger woman smiled, “yes of course. Mary Ryan from the Blessed Women of the Sacred Heart Church I am here to escort a Miss Rory Joe Hanson, Monique Crawford, and Chriz Saied to the refugee camp . . .” she stopped when she noticed the three of them in the back. Her blond hair was tied in a ponytail and looked tired. The grease seemed thick in her hair with an additional layer of dirt upon her skin making it resemble aged wax. Her blue overalls were stained with mud and even small amounts of blood.

Raising her hands, “you must be them huh?” She blew past Toothpick advancing towards them. “HEY miss,” Toothpick rose from his seat as he chased after the woman. “Hey my name is Mary Ryan Michaels and I am your guide from the church . . . Subin told me to escort you from Lokichogio but I thought it would be easier to meet you here. I’m sorry if I scared you. I sent a telegraph but I don’t think it made it to the hotel in time.”“Miss, excuse me but this ride isn’t free and charity don’t pay the gas if . . .” she waved her hand, “oh my dear man, you know that our church has an agreement with you.” He shook his head, “that was for . . .” she waved her hands, “I am sorry, you can complain about this every time with every other aid worker but you need to get over it alright? You signed the deal with our church now move on.” “Move on,” he snapped “move on . . . according to you I won’t be able to move on till the end of the next season!” He raised his finger, “I never should have taken that deal”! Mary Ryan lowered her head, “but your charity and willingness to give just warms my heart and helps the thousands of starving people in this troubled country.” He shook his head, “Fine, I’ll drive you, but you better,” she smiled, “believe me I understand the rules Mr. Pick. Now can we get moving? The sun is going to be setting soon, and if we keep talking we are going to be driving through the night.” Toothpick growled “I hate it when they call me Mr. Pick” and returned to his seat growling the whole way finishing with a “We’re already going to be driving through the night.”

Mary Ryan turned back to the group. She was an outdated hippy that had moved past the “days of free love” but her past was still visible. She had a peace tattoo on her wrist with a hemp necklace spelling out Blessed Heart. Groaning slightly, Rory was not interested in her former movements and more boisterous ways of getting the message of peace out to the world. However it turned out that their guide had an interesting backgroun