Aboard Air Force Two
It was the 4th of July, Dad’s birthday, and Nixon was throwing a big bash at the White House for him. Washington, D.C. was the last place I wanted to be in July, by it was Dad’s 50th and a big deal with Mom. You didn’t say no to Mom. Not without repercussions. Repercussions you’d regret. And so, on the morning of the fourth, the entire Good family saddled up for a ride aboard Air Force Two to the East Coast. (Except for my older brother Major Johnny, who was already there, no doubt doing something unscrupulous behind the scenes with his partner-in-crime Ollie North. Those two were always up to something.)
(Below, a shot of Uncle Dick welcoming me to the 4th of July celebration.)
“Mikey, quit moping,” said Mom. “It’s your father’s big day.”
I looked across the aisle at Dad in his Uncle Sam suit, with his top hat and America, Love It or Leave It headband. He enjoyed his ride aboard Air Force Two, editing a technical manual for the new “toy” his team at the Secret Weapons Lab had created. Editing a technical manual was the opposite of fun and that’s just the way Dad liked it.
To be clear, Dad’s toy was not a toy. Not in the traditional sense. He didn’t believe in those. Something I’d learned early when Dad gave baby Mikey life lessons. He’d shout into my crib, “Life is not about fun, Mister.” Then he’d confiscate the Teddy Bears and rattles that Mom smuggled in. Around the Good household, toy was code for one of Dad’s diabolic weapons.
“What do you got there, Dad?”
“You mean this?” he asked, patting a suitcase. Gently.
“Yeah, that.”
“Take a guess.”
“A whole bunch of cash to cover the fortunes you’ve cost me?”
“Ha! I hate to admit it,” he said, “but you almost made me laugh.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
He gave his suitcase another love pat. “What’s inside is much better than a fortune in cash, son.”
“Diamonds? Bearer bonds? Rare art?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s a nuclear weapon.”
“Really? A suitcase nuke? Right here aboard Air Force Two?”
“That’s right,” he said.
“Aw, man. . .are we safe?”
“Of course not. The commies are out to get us.”
“No, I meant from you and your new toy.”
“I sure hope so.”
“Me, too.”
“Then again, if a certain someone doesn’t cut his hair, straighten out and fly right, well. . .”
On behalf of Mother Earth, myself, and the rest of mankind, I protested. “But, Dad, aren’t you worried it’ll fall into the wrong hands?”
“Wrong hands?”
“You know, like yours.”
He looked at his hands, flexed his fingers. “What’s wrong with them?”
Looking down at Texas, where a certain Bush family lurked, I had a thought. “Let’s see if your new toy works.”
“Sorry, son. I have to work with George whether I like him or not.”
“Ah, I get it. You’re saving it for the Democrats, right?”
“Not this particular one,” he said, scribbling a note, “but I like how you think.”
“Who gets this one?”
“Your Uncle Dick.”
“You’re nuking Uncle Dick?”
Dad rolled his eyes. “You wish.”
“No kidding. Wouldn’t that be ironic?”
“That’s not funny, Mister.”
“Neither is flying with a suitcase nuke.”
Mom tried to reassure me. “It’s safe, honey. . . unless we hit some turbulence.”
“That’s all it’ll take?” I asked, looking around for a parachute.
Mom chuckled. “Your father hasn’t perfected the safety mechanisms yet.”
“Stop this plane, I wanna get off.”
“You are so silly.”
“So is being in Washington when Uncle Dick lets loose with the, ahem, fireworks in Dad’s suitcase.”
“It’s not for the fireworks show,” confided Dad.
He left me hanging, so I made a guess. “It’s for the press corps, isn’t it?”
Dad’s lips twitched for a mili-second. “You are an intuitive boy.”
Maui Wowee, the 5th book in the Senor Bueno Travel Adventure series is coming out in two weeks, so get ready for some insane humor. And with Dr. Strangelove in the picture, I do mean insane.
If you haven’t read any of my stories yet, why not grab a Free Copy of Revenge In Baja for a sample?
Or go to my Books Page and check out the first four books in the Senor Bueno Travel Adventure series.