Chase The Rabbit: Gretch Bayonne Action Adventure Series Book #1 (4 page)

              It didn’t quite add up. But there I was. In the middle of a big mystery named Friday and it was only Tuesday afternoon. No one knows what tomorrow will bring. But I knew I had to be in Lakehurst by noon to find out. My luggage consisted of two changes of clothes (all black), a notebook, pen and two hundred bucks in cash. And one photograph of a rabbit named Mark.

              “My God!” the driver said as we arrived at Lakehurst Bay, “are you one of them?” It was a total traffic jam and thousands of people lined the sides of the street.

              “One of whom?” I asked.

              “You know, one of those Hollywood people! I don’t get to watch that many movies, but everyone knows about the famous trip across America! It is all over the radio!”

              “No,” I said. “I am not one of them, I am just a passenger.” 

Seeing the Graf moored on the parking lot even made me gasp in awe. I had never seen her up close like this. She was amazing! 

              Fire trucks and police cars surrounded the area. The Army was even there with trucks and a few tanks. It was a big show, and everyone wanted to get in on the action. It was a surreal site to behold.

              To get onto the tarmac, we had to pass a security checkpoint.

             
Oh shit!
I thought. 

              “You can’t come any further,” the security guard told the driver. 

              “Oh, it’s all right, the cabbie said. “My fare is one of them! He is on the list!”

              I held my head in my hands.
This is not going to happen!
I thought. 

              “Name please!” the security man said. 

              “Bay!” the driver said.

              The security guard was looking at his notebook. 

              “Okay,” he replied. “Go up to the yellow line.” 

             
Holly shit!
I thought.
I guess the old boy got me on the list after all! 

              Crowds surrounding the Graf were kept at bay. I had to walk nearly a block from the cab to the ship itself.  People were cheering and waving at me. With each step I took, the sheer size and magnitude of the vessel grew by leaps and bounds. The realization that this was indeed a big deal didn’t hit me until then. I was merely looking for a free and quick passage to California. It was much more than I’d bargained for, and I hadn’t even boarded yet. 

              Security led me to the main passenger entrance.

              “No, I need to go back to the cargo area.” 

              “Negative, sir,” the security officer said. “That is a restricted area.” 

              “Look you dumb ass, I am with Alvon the Great!” I replied. “I need to go back there!” 

              He looked at me puzzled and then said, “You wait right here, sir, I need to confirm that!”

              Ten minutes later, the security officer returned.

              “You need to enter in the cargo area, sir!”  He pointed towards the rear of the ship, like I didn’t know where that was. 

              By then, I knew this was going to be crazy. My cabbie was waving and laughing as I began the trek to the other end of the ship. 

              “You tell Marion Davies I said Hi!” he shouted. 

              “I’ll be sure to do that!” I yelled. 

              As I waited to climb the stairs to the rear cargo area, I took a moment to look up. From that angle, you couldn’t see the sky. You couldn’t see anything but the ship. That is how massive it was. It was five stories high and nearly a thousand feet long. I had seen her in the sky over the Empire State building one time a few years ago, and she looked grand! But to be that close brought it into perspective. I was about to board the biggest airship in the world. That realization hit me harder than anything I’d ever experienced. And I’d been hit in the face a few times by Joe Bob. 

              I was ushered up a flight of stairs surrounded by dozens of security men. At the top, was a man in a blue military looking uniform and cap with a clipboard and a very serious look on his face. 

              “Name!” he demanded in a thick German accent.

              “Bay,” I answered. He shook his pencil while staring at the clipboard. 

              “Oh, yes, I see,” he said, looking up at me. “Do you have any contraband or weapons on you, sir?” 

              “If I did, do you really think I would tell you?” I answered.

              He wasn’t amused by my response, and made a quick hand gesture towards two guards who pulled me aside and searched my bag and pockets. I was shocked at how quickly they reacted. Finding nothing but a few sharp pencils, the men forcibly returned me to the man with the clipboard.

              “He’s clean, sir,” one of them said. 

              “Very well,” the clipboard man said. “Do you have any questions, Mr. Bay?” he asked sternly.

              “Yeah,” I replied. “Are you going to be an asshole for the entire trip?”             

              He cracked a smile and nodded saying, “Most likely, yes, Mr. Bay. Now, you see that ladder?” 

              “Yes,” I said.

“Well, you go up there and wait. Go to the second entrance up. Do not wander around. Wait just inside, and I will be up shortly.” 

I staggered into the back of the cargo area, having been cleared by security, past stacks of cardboard boxes and a large metal cage full of monkeys. It was the strangest thing I’d ever seen. 

             
What the hell are all these monkeys doing on the Graf?
I thought. 

              An older man stood next to the cage. He had wild hair and a beard and was dressed in a bizarre looking uniform.  It looked like something out of a circus. As I passed him, he whispered, “seven monkeys.” I turned towards him, but he was not even looking my way.

             
Maybe I imagined that,
I thought.

              A Chinese man stood in the corner smiling. I threw my small bag over my shoulder and started climbing the ladder. The first thing I noticed, about fifteen feet up, was that the temperature was rising. And to each side of me were yellow, hot walls that permeated with sweat. A low rumbling sound vibrated all around me. I was getting claustrophobic but kept climbing again, wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into. 

              Then suddenly I found myself in another world. I was at the end of a steel runway that seemed to go on farther than I could see. It was about twenty feet wide, and on each side were massive round cells. They moved slightly, as if they were alive. The temperature was at least twenty degrees hotter by now. I put my hand on one of the huge red bellows that seemed to go up hundreds of feet. It felt like hot rubber. I could push it in a good foot without much resistance. 

             
These must be the balloons that make this damn thing float!
I thought. 

              I was in the belly of the beast. And it frightened the hell out of me. It was an entirely different view than what she looked like from the outside. The walkway seemed to go on forever. Although it was made of steel, it was the crisscross kind that had holes in it so you could see below. It was far from a secure feeling.

              I was in the middle of the guts of the ship, and got the impression that she could throw me up at any moment. There were no hand rails, nothing to hold onto. It felt like a rain forest without life. I thought they should have butterflies, plants, maybe some lizards running around inside. At least that would give the creepy place some atmosphere. 

              I felt light-headed, like I was going to pass out, so I sat down and closed my eyes. Patricia came to my mind. 

             
Why the hell am I doing this?
I thought.
I could be home in Hoboken, writing stories about bowling alleys and baseball.

              I thought about the first time I’d met Babe Ruth. Then the rumbling noise increased, snapping me back into reality. The great rubber balloons pushed closer towards me. I felt like a tiny ant surrounded by red tongues about to be swallowed up. There was no place to run, either up or down. I was trapped.

              And just as my anxiety was about to overwhelm me, I heard a voice call out, “Gretch!” It was my Mother.

              “Yes, Mommy,” I answered. “I am here! Where are you?” 

              “Wake up son,” she said. “You are in danger.”

              Suddenly the voice turned into that of a man with a German accent. “Bay, get up!” he said. It was Captain Clipboard. 

              I tried to regain my composure as I stood up slowly. 

              “Are you all right?” he asked. 

              “I was up late last night.” I explained. “And this place is, um, very strange to me.” 

              He extended his hands and helped me stand up. He seemed like a completely different person from the man who’d given me such a hard time earlier. 

              “Yes, I understand,” he said. “I am sorry I couldn’t escort you up here personally, but I had duties and there were many people down there watching. Now come this way,” he said.

              I followed him down the steel corridor, not having any clue as to where we would end up. 

              “My name is Klaus, and I am the chief rigger on the Graf” he said. 

              “Yeah,” I replied. “You are Captain Clipboard.” He stopped and turned towards me smiling. 

              “You may call me anything you like” he said. “Just, how do you say in America? Do not call me late for drinks!” He laughed at his own lame joke as I did my best to force a smile. 

              “You, Mr. Bay, are a famous writer, no?” he asked as we continued walking.               

              No,” I replied. 

              “Right!” he said, looking at his clipboard. “You were added at the last moment by the other famous writer, Mr. Von Wiegand.”

              “He is famous, not me,” I said.

              “What?” Klaus said.

              “Nothing, never mind,” I answered. “Where are you taking me?”

              “Down here to your sling,” he answered. “We have no room for you anywhere else,” he explained. 

              “What the hell is a sling?” I asked.

              “You know, your sling!” he said. “Um, your hammock, where you will sleep.”

              “I thought I was on the list as Monkey Man’s assistant,” I said.

              “Well, if you were,” Klaus said laughing, “you must have been promoted to writer!”

              “May I see that?” I asked, pointing to his clipboard.

              “No!” he replied. “We are airborne in twenty minutes and I have work to do.”

              It took us a good ten minutes to walk the spine of the Graf to reach our destination. And we were walking quickly. We stopped at a steel ladder that went straight up to the top of what I would call the ceiling, or roof. Passage ways ran off to each side, and in front of us was another two hundred feet which must have been the front end of the craft. 

              “Now you wait right here, and after we have sailed, I will come up and fix your sling,” Klaus said.

              “Wait a minute!” I countered. “Why can’t I go with you?”

              “I will show you the rest of her later and introduce you to the crew,” he said. “But for now, I must go. You wait right here.” He walked to the right and disappeared. 

             
Son of a bitch! 
I thought. 

              I sat down on the hard steel walkway and leaned against the ladder that shot straight up to the top of the beast. 

              Looking down towards the tail, I watched in amazement as the great balloons expanded even more.  Butterflies flooded my stomach like flies on a screen door. 

              The ship was rising. I could feel it. 

             
Wait right here, my ass!
I thought.
I’m getting the hell out of here.

              I looked up the ladder and started climbing. I don’t know how many rungs it was. It seemed like a hundred, maybe more. When I finally reached the top, there was a round hatch about three or four feet wide. I turned the wheel and pushed upward and the damn thing opened. The top of the ladder had an extension on it that you could push up. It went about three feet up past the exterior. 

              I stuck my head up and found myself looking out upon the world from on top the Graf. I couldn’t see much but the top of the ship and the horizon all around, but we were floating. And, as we climbed higher, I could see more and more of the landscape below. It was a breathtaking sight.                For the first time in my life I was flying. And it didn’t feel anything like I’d imagined it would. I felt like I was flying, not in an airplane, but by myself, in the wind. It was such a liberating experience that I wanted to climb out onto her back. We started to turn, but it didn’t feel like I was turning, it seemed as though the land below us was moving instead. I could see the Hudson River far below us and just ahead was New York City. We were headed towards the Empire State Building.