The Vacation

Who would have thought she'd need a vacation from her vacation?

This was Rose Ann's first thought just as two jet-trails of white smoke appeared directly outside the helicopter's windshield. Even Rose Ann from Fall Brook knew a couple of Surface to Air Missiles when she saw them, and these particular Surface to Air Missiles were fast approaching in a great white arc aimed directly at the center of her forehead.

An instant later a quarter of the Huey's tail-section was blown away in a terrific explosion.

Rose Ann swung around to look back through the glass cockpit and saw that the bits and pieces of what was left of the tail were now charred black.

She was too scared to breath, much less scream. She could smell burning wires. She didn't know what to hang onto and what not to touch, and chose to grab the bottom of her seat. In front of her were a bunch of gizmos and switches. Everything was flashing and buzzing and spinning.

The view of the desert became a long complicated blur of brick colored sand and nameless purple mountains. It all spun past; the mountains, the sky, the sand. Mr. Wonderful, whoever the guy was who sat next to her, the guy flying, the one who had swooped in out of nowhere to pick her up out of the desert in his whirlybird--a man she had known for about ten minutes before this whole Surface to Air missile business happened, that man-- now began screaming into his radio in a language she couldn't understand.

Inky black smoke materialized inside the cockpit and grew steadily worse.

Rose Ann turned her head and looked at the pilot. She wondered if his name might be “Omar” as in Oamar Sharif. She loved that actor! She watched this tall older man in the sun-glasses with the jet-black hair and scraggly beard as he flicked switches and pressed buttons.

He dyes his hair, she said to herself. She had not just spent eight months in Fall Brook Beauty Academy not to recognize dyed hair when she saw it. He could do something about the beard, also.

Rose Ann couldn't see his eyes because of the aviator sun-glasses. She was pleasantly surprised to see he had a dimple in his right cheek. Then the dimple flinched and she saw it was a kind of a bullet hole sorta dimple. She also saw, (or strongly believed she saw) him wink at her behind his glasses and she was pleasantly surprised for a second time in as many seconds!

They were going down in a long slow spiral. The levers at Rose Ann's feet began to move up and down and the helicopter banked and settled out of the spin. They leaned one way, then the other, then they actually began to gain altitude.

“We're going to be alright,” the man said looking over at Rose Ann. He sounded educated, with an accent.

She tried to speak, but couldn't. She pulled a long wisp of blond hair from across her forehead.

“I am most confused with those Bedouins,” the man said turning back to his controls. "Why were they after you?"

“They're a bunch of gall-darn shit-heals!” Rose Ann said. “My bus broke down. And there they come up on their camels all smiley and hound-dog and such! I thought they all was gonna save me, and then, and then they just got all sort a mean like! I told'em I would do their hair!”

“Do their hair?”

“For free! Account of them savin' me and all.”

“Yes, the Bedouins are a mercurial people.”

“Well that may be, but I find them a might moody!”

Rose Ann saw that they were going to land near the base of the mountains. The helicopter came down sideways and reversed course and came further down going the other direction. Finally they hit the sand and skidded and hit harder and came to a stop.

The man flipped a couple switches and the noise of the blades began to lessen as they wound down. He took off his earphones and gloves. He stuck out his hand.

“Your name is, please to know?”

“Rose Ann,” she said shaking his large callused hand.

“And what are you doing here?”

“Oh, please!” said Rose Ann. “Can we get out of this thing?” She made a fanning motion with both hands.

The man slid down his window and stuck out his elbow. “What's your hurry, little Jackal?”

“I'm on vacation with my Aunt Mirian. She lives in Salla da a Man.”

“You are a long ways from Al Sal a' Naman, my dear lady.”

Rose Ann took a deep breath. She decided that she didn't like the vibes in here. She said: “Those Bedouins, cheese!” and rolled her eyes skyward. "They almost ruined my whole vacation!"

The pilot looked at her over the tops of his sun-glasses.

“What is up with those Bedouin guys?” Rose Ann said just to be saying something. Anything. She felt her heart pounding in the center of her chest. She licked her bottom lip.

“They are a bit... funny... about their hair, I am afraid,” said the man. He unbuckled his seat-belt.

“Well, I sure want to thank you, Mr....​,” her voice was growing husky as it trailed off.

“Osama bin Mohammed bin Awad bin Laden” the man said.

“Wow! Well I'd sure like to thank you, Mr. Laden," she said trying to find the handle to her door. "You like, I can do your hair!”

-964 Words-