The Doctrine of Presence. Benjamin Vance

I believe the photographer protected the ranger’s identity by strategically hiding her face with shadow, her own hair and his assistant’s anatomy. In my opinion, they could both have been movie stars; such was their beauty, the setting and the photographer’s talent.

      We closely watched the episode for about an hour and a half, then they dressed, seeming to be much better friends, and left. We followed them at a distance, back to the ranger’s barracks, where all three went into her apartment. Fredo and I deserted our observation post after an hour, citing imagination overload. The other members of our gang seemed nonplussed by the episode, and we scheduled a trip home for the next morning citing chronic boredom. The incident was a learning experience, but in no way prepared us for our next excursion.

      6

      I received a late call from a stranger, on the very evening we returned home from New Mexico. Samantha answered the phone and when she handed it to me she gave me a raised-eyebrow look to warn that it may be a crackpot, or to help me make it short. There was an obvious pause after I said hello, which warned me someone may be recording. Within five seconds a male voice said, “Is this James Hanes?” He pronounced it correctly. I said, “It all depends on who’s asking.”

      He said, “This is Andrew Wall. Do you remember me? We went to airborne school together.”

      It took me a few seconds, but then, “Yeah, my God, Andy, I never thought I’d ever hear from you again after our little tangling episode. What the hell are you doing, and what have you been doing? Did you go back to work for … Metrid Equipment, was it?”

      “You bet, man. I think it’s the best dang company in the world. They treated me nice and now I’m out to pasture up here in Michigan. We have a nice little place in the U.P., in the town of Three Lakes and I intend to grow old in style up here now. We go to Florida in the winter and I catch redfish you know. Man we are enjoying life; you betcha.”

      “Well, Andy, you’re making me jealous. Say, how did you find me and, I’m embarrassed to ask, what is the U.P.?”

      “I’m sorry James, that’s the Upper Peninsula of Michigan; the U.P. It gets butt cold up here, but it’s already phasing into spring now, with all the beautiful flowers and stuff. In the fall we scoot on down to Florida ya know and are just now gettin back up. Yeah, my wife, poor soul, is suffering a bit from Alzheimer’s, but she’s a great lady and can still get around great though. Listen, Jim, can we get together one of these days real soon and talk. I have some interests you may be able to help me with, based on your experience, ya know.”

      “Well, yeah, I guess we can. What’re your plans for the month and just how soon were you thinking?”

      “Jeeze, Jim, I was thinkin’ about next week maybe. Betty, that’s my wife, her sister’s here and can watch her while I scoot on down to New Mexico, or wherever ya live now.”

      “I live in Arizona Andy. My hometown is a bit north and east of Phoenix. I’m kind of retired also. I guess I could meet you at the airport and bring you up here for a couple of days.”

      “Oh, thanks for the invite Jim, but I’ll just be needin’ to talk to you in the airport or somewhere close, ya know. It’s really nothing important, but I best not talk about it on the phone, okay?”

      “Sure Andy, it‘ll be great to see you again after all these years. Will you call me when you get in or will you just show up or what?”

      “Oh, gosh no, I’ll give you a jingle when we’re about two hundred miles out, so you can come to the airport. Does it have one of those executive ports?”

      “Well … yeah, it does, why?”

      “That’s where I’d like to meet ya, if you don’t mind.”

      “Okay … sure Andy, just call when you’re out a ways. Can I count on a specific day, or will you call out of the blue?”

      “Oh, gosh no, let’s plan on next Wednesday, okay? We should hit Phoenix about, let’s see … three hours, three hours difference; we should be in Phoenix by 9:00 a.m. on Wednesday, okay?”

      “All right Andy, I’ll head out and be at the executive port about 8:30, so I can have a cup of coffee or something before you arrive. I’ll be waiting.”

      “Oh Jim, I remember that you’re a tea man; not a coffee drinker, huh. Anyway you might want to have a cup on the plane after we arrive. It will be the most private place to talk, ya-know. In any case, I’m lookin’ forward to seeing ya. Take care, good talking to ya, bye-bye now.”

      I must have had a strange look on my face when I hung up, because Sam planted her little bare butt on my legs and asked, “Who the hell was that?” She seldom curses. Andy didn’t say how he got my number, few people know I prefer tea, and did he actually know I was just in Carlsbad? I enjoyed having missed my Samantha, and how absence makes the heart grow fonder, and so forth. She never bitched about my being gone to New Mexico and didn’t seem jealous about anything, even strange phone calls. Sometimes I wished she were just a little bit jealous though.

      * * *

      I talked to three of my cohorts the first of the week and told them about how this old guy from jump school got in touch with me out of the blue and how guarded he was during the call. We decided that two of them would cover my six at the executive port on Wednesday. Fredo would use a laser directional listening, or eavesdropping device to keep tabs on me, and Greenie Mitchell would be my backup guy inside the executive port. I didn’t think I would actually need any backup, but one never knows. After all, the guy and I met in airborne school and I walked off his chute one day, or at least tried to, with him pulling and screaming at the chute and me. We finally tangled and both more or less used my chute to the ground. He actually ended up hitting first so I had the benefit of a softer landing; he fractured his ankle and got booted from the program. He stayed in the Army though, and did fine, but when he retired, went straight back to Michigan and his former company, Metrid Equipment. Still, one never knows what latent emotion another harbors.

      I believe his wife may have been the daughter of a pretty high-up executive, since she certainly acted the part over the year or so I was acquainted with them. Anyway, as most of these things go, Wednesday came early.

      I parked at the executive port and showed my ID to get in. There didn’t seem to be any obvious security, but I was sure it was there. I went to the small concession and ordered an English Breakfast Tea. With real half and half and plenty of sugar added, it was delicious. I was about half way through it, when Greenie arrived dressed in a nice blue suit, sans tie. He looked dapper. I glanced at him; he glanced at me. We noted each other’s location and direction, for what purpose, I didn’t know.

      My cell rang at almost 9:00 a.m. It was Andy. He informed me that he was taxiing toward the terminal and would I please come out to meet him. I stated the affirmative and looked outside. All I could see was a small, double-turbine aircraft. I managed to get to the exit door before being stopped by a suited security guard. I explained my situation and in less than three minutes was being escorted toward the plane by the security man. About half-way to the jet, which still had the engines running, the door opened and Andy stepped onto the first step to wave at me. He did not walk down. The jet was a beautiful little thing with five port holes per side and metallic blue paint. The wings were turned up at the tips, which made it look like it was moving, even when still.

      I was escorted to the ladder and Andy waved me up. I turned around and looked back at the terminal and saw Greenie standing at a big window. He just raised his hand, and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Nothing I can do now.” I wondered what Fredo was thinking.

      The interior of the plane was beautifully appointed in beige leather and fold-down desk tops. It was obviously a business plane. The logos for Lear Jet were apparent as well. After being warmly welcomed aboard by Andy and seated by an attractive female attendant, I felt the plane rolling and buckled up. I asked, “Abducted or shanghaied?”