Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2014 11:10:44 -0400
From: James Fitzhugh <fitzh1943@gmail.com>
Subject: Venturer Scout - Chapter 5

			  The Venturer Scout -05

		 by: James FitzHugh <FitzH1943@gmail.com>

Many thanks to Len in South Africa for his editing; to Rob in Alberta,
Canada for all his technical assistance; and, to those readers who very
kindly dropped me a note.

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++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was Wednesday. I was looking forward to the weekend when Gjert and I
would get together up at his family's place in the mountains for a weekend
of rest, relaxation and a long overdue oil change. I couldn't wait but I
still had two and a half days to go so I plodded on with my research and
drafting of my thesis.

Have any of you ever have one of those days when you get up with all the
right intentions and everything goes to shit just as soon as the business
community starts their working day? That's been my day so far and we
haven't even got past 9:30 in the bloody morning.

First, there was a call from a telemarketer telling me I'd won a cruise and
all I'd had to do is give them a deposit of 525.00 United States dollars to
cover this, that and the other thing. I was assured that once I paid this
amount everything else but my airfare to wherever this freakin boat was
loading passengers, was provided free of charge.

'Hmmmm,' was my first thought. Why would I have to pay in monopoly money?
Why wouldn't these bloody people accept the Queen's shilling or the next
best thing, the Canadian dollar. My second thought was 'Wow, what a
valuable prize'. But before I said anything that committed me, my common
sense snuck in to put me back on an even keel (you'll pardon the pun, of
course).

"Okay, let me get this straight," I said to this polite little lady trying
to make her sales pitch. I hated her the moment she'd started speaking
because if there's anything I really hate, and I know that hate is such a
strong word, but I do mean hate, it's a fucking cheery, perky person first
thing in the morning. It took me nearly 20 friggin years to cure my bloody
sister of this disease. Now she barks and grunts when I go upstairs in the
morning for coffee and that's just the way I like it. I'm still working on
my brother-in-law but he's a late addition to the family so give me five
more years and I should have him cured too. The nephews are a write-off.

Once I settled back into my chair, I expressed my enthusiasm for my prize;
"My dear lady," I said starting off as politely as I could, "I live in a
City with hundreds, if not thousands, of people going about their business
around me every minute of the day. I normally travel by car but,
occasionally, by the underground and again; there are hundreds of people
around me in the metro stations and on the train. Then, I go to my
University were there are even more students, just like me, all milling
about or rushing hither and yon to get to classes. And now, you tell me
that I've won a bloody cruise on a boat with hundreds, if not thousands, of
passengers and once this bloody big thing leaves port there's no way I can
get off and you want me to get excited? With all due respect, ma'am," I
said, trying not to sound too impolite, "but no thank you. If I'm going on
a vacation; it's going to be to some nice little Island no-one has ever
heard of; where no-one can get to the island unless it's by boat and I own
the only available boat for 1,000 miles in every direction; where I would
bring the person of my dreams so we could frolic and do all sorts of
naughty things on the beach day and night in the nude; where I can pick
fruit from the trees every morning; where I can dive for my lunch and
dinner every day; and finally, where I can dip, when I please, into any one
of the four barrels of wine I'd have brought along and know I don't have to
share with anyone but my companion who's a teetotaller. Now tell me, dear
lady; doesn't that sound like the ideal, planned and restful vacation? Good
day to you ma'am and have a nice day." I said hanging up the phone.

Oh! I felt so good. I went back to working on my thesis until I was
disturbed again not twenty minutes later. The next call was from my local
newspaper threatening to cut off my home delivery service unless I hopped
right down to their offices this very bloody minute and paid for the next
three months subscription in advance.

"Lady", I said again trying to be as polite as possible, "there isn't a
damn bit of news worth reading in that rag of yours that I can't get off
the telly or the radio." Actually, I wasn't being fair. What I'd said
wasn't really true because neither the telly nor the radio carried any
village news. Initially, that was the only reason why I'd subscribed in the
first place, the availability of local news. Besides, after I was done with
it every day, I recycled it into my sister's household so she didn't have
to pay for another subscription. "I'll gladly get down to your offices and
pay my subscription when it's convenient. Thank you and have a nice day." I
said. Again, I was ever so proud that I had stood up for myself and put
down the phone.

But that was it. I'd lost my concentration. I decided that the best thing
to do at that moment was to go for a walk down to Mika's Diner and have
breakfast. Mika is one of those old sea salts that served in Her, no I
guess it was His, Majesty's navy for twenty five or more years and then
cashed out his pension, came to Canada but why he settled in this little
hamlet, I'll never know. But he and his lovely wife who hails from Clare,
in County Antrim decided on setting up this magnificent little diner in an
old railway dining carriage that he'd purchased from the War Surplus people
for a song. They bought a nice little piece of land just outside the town
limits, leveled it, laid down railway tracks just long enough to
accommodate the carriage, and had it installed.

People in the Town told me it was a big thing at the time and everyone who
could went to watch as the carriage was brought into the local station, not
by a modern day diesel engine but, by one of those grand old steam engines,
lifted by two heavy lift cranes onto a special flatbed truck, then driven
through the town with a massive police escort and electrical line power
crews to help lift the power lines as it passed under and, finally, slowly
and painstakingly lifted off the flatbed and mounted on its specially
prepared track bed. Mika spend a whole year getting her ready for business.

The propane tanks, electricity boxes, water pump, and extra 10 x 10 foot
freezer, etc., were all housed in a nice little shed made to look like a
little cottage on the back side of the carriage. He'd even brought men over
from the Old Country who could put a thatched roof on the little wee
cottage. In the summer time, Mika would put out tables with umbrellas and
chairs for his customers to sit on and enjoy the fresh air.

From what Mika's son, Josh, a classmate of mine in one of my courses at
University told me; his parents have made money hand over fist since the
very first day they opened. I'm no commerce student but it does make
sense. They've no mortgage or monthly rent to pay. They pay a pittance for
their property, water and school taxes because their inside the county,
outside the township. And, I'm told by many of the older members of the
local citizenry, who are in a position to know, that in the five years
they've been opened, except for the stairs leading into the diner, they've
never had to pay for anyone to plow the snow from the parking lot. Either
the County or the Municipal road maintenance crews do it in exchange for
breakfast or lunch on the house.

But Josh also did say that his parents and his two siblings have all had to
work hard from 0600 every morning till 10:30 at night, 365 days a year. It
is definitely the ambiance, the old railway silver service, the cheery
smile and greeting of his wife, Matilda, in her lovely long, colourful
dresses covered by the big white apron serving the tables and acting as
hostess, and the food that makes people come back. I take my nephews there
all the time. It isn't anything like you'd get at the Dorchester in London;
the George Cinq in Paris; the Waldorf in New York or the Beaver Club in the
Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Montreal, but it is good, wholesome food that has
people constantly coming back for more. Mika, himself, only refers to it as
pub grub but let me tell you; if you ate there every day for a single
month, you'd put on a lot of weight.

The dining area seats 40 and people just accept that if it's a full house,
they'll wait. There's no waiting room in the carriage itself so in
inclement weather people are content to wait in their cars and in good
weather, they'll sit in the outside seating area. Josh 's younger brother,
Benny, is a tinkerer and came up with a nice little board that sits in one
of the windows and lights up. If they're full, you register and get a
number, when that number comes up on the electric board; it's your turn to
eat. Many a townsfolk drop in for breakfast on their way to work, for
morning coffee break, for lunch and whole families come in the evening for
dinner. I swear the municipal and the provincial police have their own
table because there is a constant coming and going of police cars. Who the
hell is going to rob them when they have the near constant presence of
"unpaid" armed guards on the premises? They say, and I'm sure it's only a
rumour because you know how small towns are, that Mika has stashed away
enough money from his first business venture that he's negotiating to buy a
franchise from the newly established Tim Horton's, whatever that is. Now
you know why his middle son and my bud, Josh, is taking his Bachelor of
Business Administration.

Anyway, I do the three 'S' thing (maybe they only refer to that in redneck
country), get dressed, find my keys, put my reading glasses in my shirt
pocket so I can read the morning paper, make sure I have my wallet and it's
got some money in it and am just about to let the door hit me on the butt
on my way out when the damn phone rings again. Now I'm standing in the
doorway with my hand on the handle ready to close it behind me but
something tells me I had better answer it. So, back in I go.

"Good morning, James speaking."

"Oh James! Thank goodness I got you before you left the house."

"And this is?"

"This is Cathleen, you know, Aarons mother."

"Sorry Ma'am. I didn't recognize the voice. It's early and I haven't had my
breakfast yet."

"Does breakfast have something to do with voice recognition now, James?
They seem to be teaching some pretty 'way out there' stuff in that
university of yours."

"Well you know how it is, ma'am. A big plate of back bacon and eggs, pan
fries and toast supported by gallons of fresh coffee activate those sleepy
brain cells."

She wasn't listening. This was a lady on a mission. "Have you got a few
minutes, James?"

"No ma'am. I was on my way out the door to get my breakfast."

"Right! I remember your sister once telling me something about how bitchy
you get when someone gets between you and a plate of food." Now that woman
is giggling

"I wouldn't exactly use the word bitchy, ma'am. I'm more the gru ?.."

"Where were you going for breakfast, James?" She interrupted me. That
bloody woman interrupted me just when I was going to give her a lecture on
the difference between being bitchy (that's a woman thing) and being grumpy
(that's a man thing). She's got a god damned husband, surely she knows the
difference.

"I was going to walk down to Mika's. They have a real nice breakfast for
three dollars fifty."

"Do you mind if I join you for coffee. I have to go to the co-op store
anyway."

"Bu?.." Never mind what I was going to say; she wasn't in the mood to
listen.

"Fine, I'll meet you there in 20 minutes." She said and hung up.

Now, that's a military wife for you. They always want to take
charge. Someone like my sister but I do what she's always accusing me of. I
tune her out. I guess these gals go to a special school to learn to handle
themselves when their husbands are off serving Queen and Country in some
far flung hayfield, rice paddy or swamp of the world. Several of my
Venturers come from military families so I have a few of these women to
deal with from time-to-time. I have my own personalized flak jacket for
such meetings. Come to think of it, there's one or two of those lovely
women I wouldn't mind looking after while their husbands are otherwise
engaged. Stop whining faithful and critical readers; I did warn you I was
bi in the first chapter. Bloody hell, the room's empty.

Just in case anyone creeps back into the room later to find out what's
going on, I'm going to continue this chapter and have my bloody breakfast.

I decided to take my car hoping that Cathleen would be late and therefore
I'd be able to fortify myself with at least one good cup of Mika's coffee
before she arrived. I don't know what brand they use but the damned stuff
would blow the ass off a speeding cheetah. Josh says it's good for
polishing chrome, too, but I've never tried it.

I got to Mika's and there were about 10 or so cars there including one
provincial police car and one municipal police cruiser. I walked in the
door and took a seat half way down the dining area.

"Jamie. It's so good to see you. How's your sister and the boys?"

"Great Mrs. Travers. They`ve gone over to visit Ireland at the moment. How
are you and the family?"

"Well Mika is grumbling and complaining as always, Josh is muttering about
not being ready for his term papers, Benny's off today so I would guess
he's working on something in his workshop and Morris is getting ready to
enter the Basilian seminary in Toronto next month but today he's in the
kitchen helping his father."

"And how are you doing ma'am?"

"Well as the saying goes, Jamie. If I was any better I'd be twins and that
would surely ruin Mika's day. He can`t handle one of me; never mind two."
We both broke out laughing which was immediately interrupted by my bud Josh
wearing his nice long clean white apron who placed a cup of coffee down in
front of me.

``You realize, of course, that noisy customers and those who disturb the
tranquility of our paying patrons will be thrown to the curb or arrested on
site,`` he says glancing down the way to the two coppers having their
morning coffee.

"Hey! Hey! I'm a paying patron", I said slipping my arm around his waist
and giving him a squeeze. Get over it people, it's a man thing; not a gay
thing.

Mrs. Travers or Matilda, as she tells everyone to call her, hustles off to
welcome another new customer while Josh pulls out a chair and sits down to
chat for a moment. Sadly, all we have time to do is exchange the
pleasantries of the day when Cathleen appears. Josh excuses himself and
returns a few seconds later with another cup of coffee. He takes my
breakfast order and asks Cathleen if she would anything but she declines.

Josh knows I hate being interrupted during mealtimes and to express the
fact that he knew this little detail about me; on his way by with another
cup of coffee for someone, he set down a copy of the morning paper in front
of me.

"Subtle, isn't he?" says Cathleen not in the least offended.

"It took me a long time to train him," I said with a chuckle.

"So what's so important this morning, ma'am?"

"Are you going to the University Thursday afternoon?"

"I don't know at the moment. It depends on whether or not I get to eat my
breakfast today." I said letting a smile creep across my face.

"Your sister always says you a cheeky brat."

"Well, she's off to Ireland at the moment so I have no way of verifying
that statement."

"James, please eat your breakfast while we chat."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"So! Are you going to the university on Thursday?"

"Yes, normally if I have to return books to the Law Library or meet with my
Advisor, I try to do it on Thursdays. Why?"

"I was wondering if you would be willing to help me."

"You know I will do anything I can, within reason." I said taking a bite of
toast followed by a sip of that asshole bracing coffee.

"You might not know this, but Aaron's father has been offered a new
position on a military base in Western Canada. He's leaving on Thursday
morning for two weeks. If he accepts the position, we'll have to move out
there next Spring or Summer."

"I suspect this is not going to go down well with Aaron? He'll be entering
his senior year in High School and he'll want to graduate with all his
friends."

"Well, James. Let's not build any bridges till we get to the river. If we
have to we can always throw a bailey bridge over on a temporary basis."

She was right of course. No need to get bothered just yet. After all, it
was only mid-May and we had, maybe, a whole year ahead of us. "So! How can
I help you/"

"The Provincial branch of the National Diving Committee called last night
and they would like to meet Aaron in the City on Thursday afternoon. They
could be considering Aaron for a spot on the team going to the Canada Games
or the Commonwealth Games."

"Aaron never brags about his level of accomplishment because he doesn't
want to appear better than his friends. Is he really that good?"

"Aaron's coach thinks he was overlooked. Something might have happened to
one of those who already qualified. Maybe a space has opened up."

"Wouldn't that be marvelous?"

"John, as I told you, can't go because and he tried to get a postponement
for one day but whoever the decision makers are told him he has to be on
base for a meeting on Friday morning. So, he'll be on a plane going
west. And I can't go because Sherri is having day surgery at the County
hospital. So, I was wondering if you would do John and I a favour and
accompany Aaron to the meeting. My husband and I will sign a paper giving
you full authority to act for us if any decisions are required."

"Do you think any decisions will be required?"

"We really don't know at this point. But John called our attorney,
Mr. Carruthers, this morning and he is preparing the power of attorney, he
calls it, and will bring it out this afternoon for us to sign. He will then
notarize it making you Aaron's temporary legal guardian."

"Wow!" was all I could think of saying at the moment.

"Cathleen put out her hand to cover one of mine. "We trust you James. Aaron
thinks the world of you. There's no-one else John and I would trust with
our son."

I shovelled in a mouthful of pan fries covered in ketchup. "For riding in
on this white charger like a knight helping a damsel in distress, do I get
a CBE, OBE or the Order of the Bath perhaps?"

"You really are a cheeky brat."

"Well! I aim to please." I said looking up from my plate. "Yes, I will help
you and represent you and John at this meeting."

"Oh! Thank you, James." She says getting up from her chair, leaning across
the table and giving me a nice kiss, not just a peck, mind you; but a kiss
on the cheek. "I'll call Brother Michael as soon as I get home to make
arrangements to take Aaron out of school Thursday afternoon." And with
that, she was off with a wave and a "bye".

"Get all your women to give you a kiss in public, do you?" said Josh
sitting down across from me in the chair Cathleen had just vacated.

On her way down the center aisle to meet a new arrival, Matilda stops,
bends down and gives me a peck on the cheek. "You know that will be all
over the town in 20 minutes or less?" she says with a laugh as he scurries
along to the waiting customer. Both Josh and I broke out laughing as well.

"You didn't eat much and it's cold. Would you like Morris to make up a
fresh plate for you?"

"That would be great but you can tell him to leave off the pan fries,
please. I've had enough."

"Sure thing," he said as he got up, took my plate and went back to the
kitchen area. Meanwhile, I opened the morning paper.

The rest of the day moved along quite nicely. I turned the sprinklers on in
the garden. I didn't want shit about dead grass and plants from my sister
when she got home. I made a few phone calls; reviewed some court
documentation; and, yup, even cleaned my kitchen. I had just finished
making my bed when there was, not a knock, but a pounding on the door
post. But! Before, I could say anything, in popped the wonder boy, Aaron.

"Hi boss; miss me?"

Note: If you liked this little story, want to give constructive criticism
or just want to rant , feel free to drop me a note at FitzH1943@gmail.com
If you would like to hear more of Aarons adventures, drop me a note and let
me know.