Blood Moon 2 (Haunted)

Coccooned

  I deserved this trip. That is what I told myself over and over. I spent more than one Friday night at the bottom of a six pack calling anyone willing to give me the advice I thought I would need to get over the fear of a long stay in a foreign country.

South Africa. The most exotic place I could think of. It had culture, It had history, and of course…Lots and lots of animals. At least from a tourist perspective. Though for all that it had to offer, It had something no other country on the face of the earth had. It had the woman I fell in love with and this was gonna be our chance to get it right.

I planned the trip a million times over, getting visions of what it would be like and allowing myself a moment of excitement. The happy visions would be short lived though, for deeper in the recesses of my mind was horrible illusions of faulty airlines and fiery explosions. Death. Disease. Animal attacks. Terrorist attacks.

Between the Ebola and the brutal death of a plane sinking slowly into the Atlantic Ocean and me succumbing to the fate of being a mere worm on a hook for a very large predator, bobbing up and down waiting for death; I found the real reason for my fear. What if she wasn’t on the other side waiting for me? What if I was alone once more?

I sighed heavily and unpacked once again. I put my clothes neatly back in the drawers and looked at empty suitcase that lay unzipped across my inviting bed. What is wrong with me?

Angrily, I ripped the dresser drawers from the frame and dumped the contents into the suitcase. Pressing down until the white of my knuckles showed I forced the suitcase to zip. I may have packed a few extra items but I did not care. Stubbornness. That was the trait I was given and at times It was a gift. After all, I deserved this vacation Did I not?

A twenty something hour flight and many tiny meals washed down with a barrage of alcoholic treats we landed. I had made it. I marched through the man-made obstacle course where my most private of clothing was scrutinized for all the world to see. I forgot to let them know about the liquids in my baggage and I forgot to take off my shoes before hand. I was making many mistakes. I could feel the stress pushing on my clavicle.

Bad luck? I let those words ring in my ear and prayed I was wrong. She would be there I was sure of it. Almost an hour later the ever satisfying thump of an ink ridden stamp landing on my passport page my vacation had officially started.

It was all that I had hoped for. She was there and she was a sight for jet lagged haggard eyes.  A smile and a hug and a long trip to a land far far away I was finally allowed to rest. I asked a million questions and took in a million sights that first day.

Finally, The moonlight swept through the exotic curtains as if to nudge me in the direction of bed. I lay with a smile on my face. This was it, I did it. After all, I deserved this did I not?

The next morning I woke to the smell of wors frying on the skillet. An intriguing smell and an even better taste. To me it was simply…Sausage but truth of the matter was it tasted different. Intriguing. Exotic. I was on cloud eleven. I chit chatted for a long time and let my fork scrape against the plate delighting in every last morsel.

After breakfast we flipped through the channels and I seen lots of shows new and exclusive. I felt like I was a part of a club. A V.I.P. Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I could see local news in a foreign country. The gritty stuff that never makes it overseas. Yes! I would be privileged enough to know the reality of this paradise.

I admit, sometimes I can be a bit of a sheep. I follow the popular consensus without question and I am ruled by fear. I scanned the news for indication of Ebola and war. Maybe an overabundance of bloated starving children or a lion loose in middle of the city. How silly am I?