But he wasn’t about to miss the adventure.
* * *
·?·?·
Before they were buckled in, the copilot welcomed them aboard and briefed them on the flight. Thanks to a tailwind, their estimated flight time was only thirteen hours. Thirteen sounded only slightly better than fourteen or fifteen. Just minutes before their scheduled 11 a.m. departure, the flight attendant took their drink orders and handed them lunch menus.
The jet seemed plated with gold. The leather recliners were soft and deep. The carpet was thick, plush. A mahogany dining table sat midway aft, and beyond it were two sofas that folded into beds, complete with silk sheets. Screens were everywhere and there was an endless selection of movies and channels.
It would be Murray’s third trip on a private jet, and something told him it would probably be his last. Classes started in two weeks and it was back to the grind. Then basketball, without Sooley and without Coach Britt, and a season that looked less than promising.
Murray found a chair in the rear, kicked off his shoes, buckled himself in, and vowed to enjoy the trip.
* * *
·?·?·
The two soldiers were Ugandan Defence Forces, the usual troops seen around the camp. They wore the standard green fatigues, shiny black boots, smart black berets, and, as always, had Kallies strapped over their shoulders. They found Beatrice behind her tent tending to her small plot of vegetables. They were friendly and polite and asked her to step away for a private word.
They informed her that she had been selected to move to a newer section of Rhino Camp South, to a nicer home. Keep it quiet. She had heard the rumors of new housing to replace their rotting tents, but those rumors had been around for months. The refugees spent half their time sifting through rumors, or creating more of them.
They returned to her tent where a third soldier was waiting with two army duffel bags. Beatrice balked and said she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave. Her close friends lived on each side of her and she wouldn’t go without them. The soldiers smiled and said her friends would make the move tomorrow. Within minutes, she had packed everything she owned—clothing, blankets, pillows, tins of food, some notebooks from school, and two plastic jugs for hauling water. The soldiers carried the duffels as they left the area. Beatrice looked back at her tent, her home for the past year, and wondered if she would ever see it again. An army jeep was waiting. The soldiers helped Beatrice into the front passenger’s seat and tossed her bags into the back where another soldier was sitting. The jeep weaved slowly through the settlement and came to its edge, near the school. Standing in front under the shade of a tree was a teacher with James and Chol.
Beatrice asked the driver, “Why are we getting the boys?”
“We have a surprise. You’ll like it.”
The boys squeezed into the back seat of the jeep and waved to their teacher. They had never been in a jeep before. In fact, they could barely remember their last ride in a motorized vehicle, the old pickup owned by their uncle in Lotta.
Their rides would only continue to be upgraded.
As they left Rhino, Beatrice was concerned. Again, she asked the driver, “Where are we going?”
“To Kampala, then to America.” She was stunned and speechless. They rode for almost an hour over a busy, wide gravel road, dodging supply trucks and troop carriers. At the airport, a small Ugandan air force cargo plane was waiting as another one landed and taxied to the warehouse.
In the rear seat, the soldier asked the boys, “Ever been up in an airplane before?”
They shook their heads no and watched wide-eyed as the jeep stopped next to the cargo plane. Beatrice had never considered air travel, and thus had no opinions about whether or not it was for her. However, at the moment she was stricken with fear and didn’t want to leave the jeep. The soldiers gently coaxed her out with promises of safe travel, and a visit to the big city before leaving for America. Once inside they strapped her in, the boys too, and wished them well. The two engines sputtered to life and the old plane shook itself. Two cool pilots in aviator shades turned around, smiled at them, and gave them thumbs-up. Beatrice was too stiff to move, but the boys were grinning from ear to ear.
* * *
·?·?·
Murray, Gaston, and Silvia were lounging under a wide umbrella by the pool, sipping drinks with no alcohol, and waiting, for the second day in a row. In the bush, the best-laid plans often go awry, and the delay was being blamed on some confusion regarding cargo planes. It didn’t matter and it wasn’t a big deal. Delays were always expected. There were worse ordeals than hanging around Kampala Serena, a five-star hotel in the middle of the commercial district.