Tripping Back to Paradise

Lou and Mitch ride the Honda up along the ridgeline to see if our rent-a-Jeep is alive or dead. They took Mitch where she was perched, but the Jeep was over the other side of the trail where she had stopped originally before opting for a better view.

They find it are back within the hour, Mitch on the bike with Lou following in the Jeep. They stand outside gabbing away like a couple of school girls, but when they walk into the kitchen and all conversation stops.
"Jesus, Jake... you look like shit."
"Fuck you very much." I start to feel my body shake. Before they even left I was feeling funny, but unending Walkers and everything in someone's liquor cabinet will do that to you.

Mitch puts her hand on my forehead like she is my mother and her eyes go wide.
"In the Jeep, now."
"I would rather just rest here, thank you."
"You rest here and we might as well have you walk to one of those holes so we don't have to move the body."

She and Lou walk me to the Jeep and I am helped into the front seat. This is all I remember until we are into town. Don't know if I fell asleep or passed out. When my eyes open I am being helped into the local doctor's office by a large black nurse with a moustache like the one I had in high school. I am out again until the I.V. is put in my arm. I don't open my eyes, but I can hear the doctor talking to the two of them. They are playing it off as a hunting accident and it took us this long to drive out to get to a doctor. There is banter back and forth about loss of blood and a massive infection... something about possible death and that whole "next 24 hours are critical" thing that you hear all the time.

Time travel is possible. I am instantly transported to three days later when I wake up and Mitch is reading a Cabela's catalog in the chair next to my bed.
"Thank God... you scared the shit out of us. We thought you weren't going to make it for a while there."
I try to keep my focus from going in and out.
"Sorry... did you lose a bet?"
I try to move but find that only my mind and neck are doing my bidding. The rest of the my body is like a slab of beef. I get nothing, not a twitch or an itch.
"It feels like I am paralyzed."
As if on que the doctor steps into the room on his rounds.
"Not paralyzed, just in a bit of shock. You had a pretty good infection going there. That and of course the gunshot wound."
He flips up a page on the chart and makes a notation, "You hunters are our bread and butter this time of year."
I look at Mitch and she stares back at me.
"All of this and I didn't even get one."
"Maybe next time." The doctor starts out of the room.
"Hey, Doc?"
He stops and turns.
"How long do I have to stay here?"
He smiles, "That paramedic fellow that brought you in here is arranging your flight... air ambulance of some type. He told me that he would transport your records to your doctor in Las Vegas." He flips the pages up on the clipboard and then lets them down again, "That reminds me... I better get this ready for him before he gets back."

Once again just me and Mitch. She explains what happened. Lou, of course is the paramedic. He knows enough medical jargon to get by the doctor. I had collapsed from just what he said, loss of blood and a pretty bad infection that was on its way to becoming much worse. The doctor had treated my wounds and started treatment on the infection. They want me to stay at least until the infection is well on its way to being under control. Lou convinced him that my doctor in Las Vegas would have more at his disposal to get me well. He was arranging a flight as we speak.

It is another hour or so before Lou appears in the doorway. By this time the feeling in my extremities has returned, deadened with whatever they are giving me for the pain.
"Hey... she's awake." He grabs my foot and gives it a shake, "How you feeling, Nancy."
"Better, I think."
"Well, I chartered a jet for us."
"Hmmm, jet... where were they keeping the jets at that podunk airfield?"
"I chartered it over the phone. Took some doing to convince them that we have cash to pay for it. I had to have them make a call to the Bellagio to verify what we had on deposit."
He looks to Mitch and gives her a smile. "Your cousin here has graciously offered to front us the money."
"I gave it to you, damn it. Just take it and stop this nonsense."
"I can't take money from a pretty little thing like you Mitch." He winks at her, "We'll have that money back in your hands as soon as we hit Vegas. I will make it my number one priority."

I am not out of the woods, not by any means. If I don't stay under a doctor's care for the next week or so, I will be flirting with the big dance. Even though Lou is pulling this guy's leg to get us out of this shithole, I do have to get into the hospital as soon as we hit the ground.

Done is done. We get the call. I get a kiss and a sort of hug from Mitch, and her undying gratitude for coming to her rescue. While I am being wheeled out toward the ambulance that will transport me to the plane, Lou and Mitch disappear for a few minutes.
I know there is more there than meets the eye. But it cannot be any more than it is. They aren't meant to occupy the same existance... one an adventurer that seems to change surroundings like a reader turns pages. The other rooted to a patch of ground, partners with the earth, water, and fire. I have the feeling that while I was out of it they might have shared something more than a cup of coffee and a Walker. A moment in time that will keep a warm spot in their hearts even on the coldest of days.

I am in the transport when I see Lou again. He hops in the back with me, medical records in hand, smile on his face that a rodeo clown couldn't slap off. He watches out the window and gives a little wave as we leave Mitch behind. I love that girl, from the first time I saw her smiling face when we were children. I hope I see her again.

It is a smaller jet that Antonelli's, but still plenty big for our purposes. I am carried on board and then set on a long couch. Our flight is another brush with time travel. Lou fixed me up with something he administered in my I.V. I don't open my eyes again until we are in Vegas and I am being wheeled off the plane to an awaiting ambulance. I hear Lou arguing with the pilot... something about a smell in the cabin and one to five years in jail. Lou reminds him that we just spent thirty grand on an hour long flight and that he could go and fuck himself.
Good old Lou, always with the right words for the right occasion.

We don't go to the hospital. We go back to the Bellagio and Lou has us in a Villa with a doctor on call. All I know is I have fresh dressing on my wound twice a day and a little button I can push to keep the pain away and a smile on my face.
I don't know how long we are there, but I do remember seeing Holly's naked body in our garden pool.
At one point, I can hear voices... Andy and Mike, in the room with me, talking to me, then to Lou. I can't talk back or even open my eyes. To many taps on the pain button I suppose. I do hear that they were on their way out of town, and that they have decided to leave the Motorhome down at the beach and catch a flight back to civilization. They still have fish to catch, and culinary masterpieces to create. We help with the purchase of an enclosed bike trailer and the Harleys go south for now. Lou makes plans for us to see them again.

There is a party in our villa. I am awake, then asleep, then awake again. At one point I am joined by one of Holly's friends from the Crazy Horse II for a quick ride. I am not so responsive, but things work the way they are supposed to and she seems happy.

Time passes, first one week, then the next. I am up and walking fine. The infection is gone and I have healed for the most part. Eventually we check out of our fine digs. Lou has procured a Lincoln Towncar and we leave Sin City in the rear view mirror as we make our way down country to the Mexico border. We manage the trip in one long hitch... at least to the border. We get a not so adequate room in Sonoita over the border and catch a buzz and forty winks before continuing on to the Sea of Cortez and Naomi.

I can feel the jungle calling me. I want to drink a beer with Jerry, tell him all that has happened. I want to relax in my hammock back at the compound. I miss the feel of Abigail touching down on a dirt runway, me in the back wearing my effects and holding the rifle to keep the jungle wolves at bay. I miss the marinated pork that the ladies in town would make for us at the little store. The crazy morning rides through the jungle. The throaty rumble of Abby's engines as she idles... waiting to take flight.
This chapter of our lives has played out, and before the next page is turned I need to breath again, to rest again. I need the sound of the jungle to become the new silence.