Picking up Nesters Gold

Heading toward the Cantina up Main street in
Nogales for some grub.










We fly with the mid-morning sun in our eyes. Lou rides along in silence for most of the trip. I know Jerry appreciates that. He hates taking on passengers that feel it is necessary to fill every second with some comment or other. But these two are old friends and there is a certain comfort level among us that doesn’t need a narration.
The trip goes by quickly. I sleep for a portion of it, how large a portion I don’t know. The general rule is that anyone in the right seat only sleeps when the left seat sleeps. In other words… no sleeping. But behind my RayBans, I take some liberties.
“Tap that right engine oil gauge.” Jerry tells me as he circles around and lines up on our runway. I lean forward, squinting with sleepy eyes at the gauge in question. It is low. I tap it hard with my knuckle but it doesn’t move.
“Probably a sending unit problem. I will check it when she has cooled off a bit.”
Jerry looks my way, “You ready?”
“For what?”
“Take her in.” He releases the wheel and I grab mine quickly.
“Hey, Jerry…” I don’t like surprises.
“Just relax. Gear coming down.” He reaches up and drops the gear.
Now that I am the one at the controls, I am scared shitless. I can feel every bump, the drag of the gear, the downlock activating. He reaches up and pulls the throttles back a bit. The plane starts to drop.
“Keep the nose up.”
I pull her back, not too much. “Flaps?”
“Very good, to what?”
“Ten?”
He moves the flaps to ten and I can feel the increase in lift. It is the strangest phenomenon, how much more you notice when your at the controls. The flap indicator reads ten and with the increased lift Jerry backs off the throttles even more.
“That’s too much.” I cut to the throttles and then back at the approaching landing strip. It feels like he backed them off to idle.
“No, its just right. Just relax. Remember our glide path. Just nose her down a bit and get her closer to the ground.”
Lou is behind the two of us, but he doesn’t say a word. He is not nervous, Jerry isn’t nervous, but I am. “Okay, okay… back off the throttles a little more.”
Jerry backs them off and we drop a little more. I pull back on the stick out of fear.
“Don’t stall it.” Jerry reaches up and pushes the stick forward, I ease off. “You’re doing fine. Get her down a little more.”
Outside Abby’s windscreen the airstrip is ten feet below us. I ease the throttles back and then pull up slightly as I feel her touch down, up… and then down a second time. I pull the engines back to idle and start braking.
“Good job.” Jerry tells me, calm as day. “I knew you could do it.”
“A little warning next time would be nice.”
Jerry takes over and taxis into the compound. It is mid-afternoon and hotter than hell. Lou points to his rifle. It is in one of the holders near the life raft. “That going to be okay up there?”
Jerry gives it a shake, “Not a problem.”
“What about the gold?”
Jerry looks at the case. “We will keep it on Abby.” He looks at me, “Back equipment hatch?”
“It’s the only thing that locks in this joint.” I look at Lou who is all too skeptical. “Look, if you want you can stay here and keep an eye on things until we get back from town.” I look to Jerry for confirmation… he nods.
“Hey, if you think it is safe, I believe you. I thought those boys in the bar were a safe bet until I came to meet you guys this morning.”
Jerry opens the equipment hatch with a key that hangs on a chain around his neck. “Throw it in there and we will lock it up. If you want to stay and guard it, then be my guest. But I would rather have you come to town with me to meet Nester.”
The bag goes in the hole and Jerry locks her up tight. “Why don’t we all head into town. We need to bring these supplies into the store, and Nester will want to meet you, Lou, if we are taking his gold to the Big City. He is funny that way.”
It is twenty minutes later, after a shit and a beer, and loading the back of the Power Wagon with the few cases of supplies we picked up, that we are off through the jungle.
Lou has a penchant for smoking the weed as we find out on the trip through the bush. He pulls out a what he calls a “Walker” and sparks it up.
“Who is this named after?” I ask, before taking a long drag off of it, choking a bit as it expands.
“Not someone, something. Something I learned on a trip to New Zealand. It is a Walker, you smoke it when you walk, and walk, and walk… and sometimes fly.”
“Your stoned, old man.” Jerry tells him.
“You’re a pussy, Jerry.” Lou takes a hit and passes it back to me.
“Hey, don’t get my mechanic all fucked up. He has to look at that sending unit before we leave tonight.”
I hold my hit for a moment and then puff it out, “We are leaving tonight? What’s the hurry.”
“For one thing, Jorge told his cousin that we would be there tomorrow, which can be morning, noon, or night. I would prefer to fly under cover of darkness.”
“What are you,” Lou takes a pull off his beer, “a fucking Spook or something. The cover off darkness.” He turns to me and socks me in the arm, “The cover of darkness.” He repeats.
“Hey Lou, did you see any markings on Abby?” Jerry asks as he downshifted to climb in and out of a dry river bed.
“No?”
“That’s right, not a marking on her. Registration, inspections, all that shit… it is more trouble than it is worth in this shithole. So we don’t bother. But it has its drawbacks.”

Town is up and over the next rise. In the fifteen minutes or so since we left the compound, Lou and I are stoned out of our minds. We are laughing at Jerry, who is making sure he hits every bump in the road, tossing us up in the air inside the tight cab. As we pull up the main road I am nearly pissing my pants laughing.
“Comediens.” Jerry says as he slams on the brakes and tosses us both into the dash.
“Ow. You fuck… that hurt.” Lou sits up straight and wipes a little blood off of his forehead.
“Your pride maybe. Pussy.” Jerry leaps out of the truck and starts grabbing boxes. “Come on you two. Lets get this shit into the store and then we can get some grub.”

The unloading sobers us up a bit and we get it done in ten minutes or so. There is a Cantina that Nester’s cousin runs a couple streets over. We leave the truck and walk over. Jerry figures we need to straighten up just a little before we talk to Nester.
We walk into the Cantina and take a seat. There are a couple of people in here, but it is mid afternoon and not much is happening. The whole place is just four picnic style tables under the equivilant of a carport attached to a two story adobe type building. Inside the building, on the other side of the counter, is one of Nester’s relatives cooking Pollo over an open flame. Smells good.
Jerry leans over the counter and rattles off something in Spanish, coming back with two bottles of cold something.
“Beer?” I ask
“Drink it.” Jerry sets one down in front of each of us.
Lou takes a whiff and then turns his nose up at it. He pushes it away. “What the hell is that stuff? Smells like dirt.”
“It’s Guarana root extract and a little Cola. Drink it. It will perk you up.”
“And ruin my buzz, screw that.” Lou wasn’t going to have it.
I shoot mine down... not bad. “It really isn’t that bad.”
Jerry pushes it back to Lou, “Just for now, we have work to do. As soon as we are in the air, you boys can party all the way to Mexico City, I don’t give a fuck. But Nester will want to meet you, to trust that you aren’t taking me and his gold into some trap or something, so drink the shit and lets eat.”
Lou huffs and shoots down the elixer. “That smells good. I’ll take two.” He nods toward the flame cooked, marinated chicken on the open grill.
Jerry raises his hand and holds up three fingers. Ordering here is a breeze. There is only one thing cooking, and that is what's for lunch or dinner.
When the plates land in front of us, we hit them hard. There is a half a chicken on each plate, a little rice and beans, and a dark beer for each of us. Excellent stop.

Nester is no where to be found in town, so we have to go and get the truck and drive out to the waterfall. We find him working some equipment on the shore of the pool. He is pissed at Jerry for bringing Lou out here, for showing him. Hell, it took Nester a year or so to get used to me being with Jerry just to meet him in town. I had only been out here once to the waterfall, and that was to bring some medicine for Nester’s daughter.
After convincing Nester that Lou was okay, and that he had a stake in the situation, we got down to business. It helped that Lou spoke the language, and it helped that he drank the Guarana.
Nester was just a jungle native out here, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t about to part with a large amount of his gold without sending someone along to protect his investment. One would think that Jerry might be insulted at the thought that he wasn’t trusted. He had taken many a trip into town with Nesters gold and trust was never an issue. But Jerry understood. It was a lot of gold, bags of it. Several hundred pounds of it. Jerry had no intention of taking direct resposibility for it, and was more than happy that Nester sent one of his men along.
We are led up to the garden outside the main house and greeted by Consuela, Nester’s wife. We give her the gift we bought, making sure that she knows it is from Nester. She blushes and giggles, and then retreats into the house to put it away. While we take a quick visit with her, Nester loads the truck from his hidden cache and then comes up to the house and meets us in the garden. We all sit around a big wooden table and smoke cigars and drink some tequila. It s a show of hospitality at meeting Lou and sealing this deal that should make tomorrow a much better day.
I am totally digging this whole scene. Full belly, buzzed, drinking premium tequila and smoking Cubans. The thunder from the waterfall is constant, along with the cool air that the mist generates.
We are introduced to another of Nester’s relatives, Ollie, who will be accompanying us to the Big City. He is big… and quiet. He reminds me of that Indian guy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. The one that rips that drinking fountain out of the floor and throws it out the window to escape. Not at all what I would expect to see guarding my several hundred pounds of gold.

We are finished with the little gathering and are now back to the truck. There are quite a few heavy canvas bags with thick leather folded over the top. Through each is a metal rod that locks at the back. They’re heavy mothers. I reach in and try to scoot one. It won’t budge.
Ollie hops in with the cargo, and Nester hands him up a gym bag. The three of us pile in the truck and we are on our way.