C - Four Minutes In The Swamp

Elaine is wrestling with a map in the passenger seat, trying to
trace her finger towards where the Hertz girl marked an X this morning.
She looses her place with every bump in the road.
'Can't you slow down?'
'We're going to be late. I don't want to miss this.'
'We'll never make it if I can't find the road. Take this left.'
I make an abrupt left turn and nearly loose the back end. We should
have gone for a four-wheel drive, but we both were in love with the
idea of a convertible. I didn't realise the swamp roads were going to
be so rough. This road is not much more than a track, a single line of
tarmac that stretches to the horizon. A veil of dust hovers above the
ground, shimmering in the afternoon heat. 'Can you see it yet?'
'She said the best place was just before a bridge.'
Ahead of us, a silver Toyota and a big old station wagon have pulled
off the road onto a patch of flattened grass crossed with thick tyre
marks. This has to be the place. 'You can put the map away love.'

We creep past the station wagon. Its driver, maybe fifty, is standing
outside, elbows planted on the roof, chin resting on hand, chatting
away to the other driver. The Toyota driver looks like a family man.
He's leaning against his door clutching a camcorder in his folded arms,
nodding as the older man talks.
As I lurch to a halt between them, the old guy stops talking and
adjusts his dark driving glasses. We get out and stand together in
front of the car.

I ask the family man, 'Is this the view point?'
A boy of eight or nine is balanced on the Toyota's bonnet, waving a toy
rocket in the air and making whoosh noises. Inside the car, a woman in
a Florida t-shirt is munching through a large bag of crisps.
'You're just in time,' the older man calls across and nods to
Elaine.
The family man forces a thin smile, uncrosses his arms and pockets a
hand in his shorts.

'Phew,' says Elaine, fanning her face, 'so hot.'
We're not used to it. But we wanted a honeymoon somewhere warm, away
from the rain. Here it's always hot, so hot that the moisture hangs in
the air all day.
'Humid,' I say.
'Perfect conditions,' says the older guy to me. He takes off a sky-blue
flat cap and brushes a few black strands of hair over his crown. 'As I
was just saying to this fellow, we have perfect launch conditions
today. It's going to be a good one, you're lucky to have made it.' He
taps his watch. 'Four minutes to go.'
The Toyota driver knocks on the windscreen and beckons to the woman
inside, but she shakes her head.
'See that building,' the older guy points across the swamp, 'that's the
gantry.' When he raises his arm, I notice a dark patch of sweat on his
shirt. I squint where he's pointing, a white shard glinting in the
sunlight.
'It's very small,' says Elaine. 'I though it would be bigger.'
'This is the closest you can get,' but the truth is I'm a little
disappointed too.
'You need a pair of these,' says the old guy, holding up binoculars.
'I've had these over thirty years. Good and solid. Built to last.' When
he straightens up, the clutch of cameras around his belly clank
together and I think of an Olympic winner returning home. 'Say,' he
says suddenly, 'you guys Australian?'
'English,' I say, 'London, England.' We learnt early on that Norwich
doesn't mean much to anyone out here. Saying London gives people
something tangible.
'I bought this watch in Europe. Swiss. Never miss an appointment with a
Swiss watch. You come a long way to see this then, but worth the
trip.'
'Definitely worth the trip.' Elaine holds out her wedding ring and
blushes.
'You're a very lucky man, she's a wonderful girl,' he says to me.
'First came here on my honeymoon back in '74. My first wife, God rest
her soul. All she wanted to do was get down to the Keyes quick as she
could, if you know what I mean. 'Let's not be here long Robert,' she
said. Always pulling at my arm. I told her, Marie those guys know what
they're doing honey. They won't keep us waiting. One minute past and we
can get back in the car. I showed her the hand on my watch counting
down. I started counting down and folks joined in. We had our own
countdown right here on the road. Even Marie counted down from five.
And you know what? Bang on time, up she went. Most beautiful sight I
ever saw. Never seen another good as that. Bang on time.'
Elaine puts her arm around my waist and gently squeezes. We're on our
way to the Keyes too. We have our own deal worked out.

The boy next door leaps off the Toyota and runs around on the grass,
swooping his rocket.
'Will it go bang today dad?' he yells and throws the toy spinning into
the air.
The rocket lands at our feet and the boy stops dead. 'Careful Rick,'
calls his dad, shrugs limply towards us and rolls his eyes. I reach
down for the toy and hand it back to the boy.
'My dad's going to video when the rocket blows up. Then we'll be on TV
and get a new house.' He continues messing around, arms flapping,
paying no attention to the cars. He runs into the wing of the station
wagon and falls to the ground. The older guy's head pops off his hands
and swivels around.
'Hey!' he says. Then he looks at the family man, who busies himself
with the camcorder. The boy picks himself up. His knee is bleeding and
pitted with gravel. 'Sorry Mister,' he says and limps back towards the
Toyota. He goes to the passenger door, speaks to the woman, who gets
out and dabs at his leg with a tissue. She throws dark glances across
at the old guy, puts her hand on the boy's shoulder and leads him round
to the front of the car.
The old guy comes to inspect the wing. 'Did you see that?' he says to
us, smoothing the paintwork. 'No damage done, but still,' he glances at
the family man, 'y'know.'
Elaine says 'How long now?' and he looks at his watch again.
'One minute right &;#8230; now.' He clasps his hands together, 'you
folks will flip. I always do. And I don't know anyone seen as many as
me. My friends think I'm crazy. Ever since I moved down here with my
second wife, I can't miss a launch. She never came along though, didn't
like the smell so she said. You can smell the kerosene in your nostrils
for days afterwards you know. Said it made her feel dirty. Made me
excited, ain't nothing like it.'

He turns towards the launch site, 'Thirty seconds. Course, I don't
mention her name now. Yep, they leave you one way or another.'
We watch for signs of activity.
'Hey, let's get a countdown going. Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Are you
folks joining in? Fifteen. Fourteen. Hey kid,' he calls, 'you excited?'
The boy looks round but his mother turns his head back.
'Guess not. Ten, nine. You folks get ready for the trip of a lifetime?
Five. Fuel lines out. Four, engines fire up.'
Smoke pours from the engines, sparks of flame.
'Two. Gantry retracts. One. Go!' he cries and jumps of the ground and
punches the air. But the rocket hasn't moved.

'Well darn it. I've never seen such a thing.' He turns to face us, arms
dropped to his side. 'I've never seen such a thing in thirty years. I
had my thirty-five-mil ready. Look.' He holds it up, finger still on
the button.
Smoke billows across the everglades. In the distance, the glistening
rocket shudders then starts to rise, accelerating past the top of the
supports. The sound wave hits us and the man spins back, mouth open,
looking down at his watch, pressing the button with the lens pointed at
his feet.
'BOOM!' cries the boy. 'Is it going to blow this time?' he asks, but
his father is too intent on tracking the ascent. The boy shouts boom
louder and louder as it climbs higher, as if willing its destruction.
There's a heart stopping moment when the engine cuts out and flames
explode on the exterior. The boy cries, 'yes!' and Elaine digs her
nails in.
'It's ok, second stage,' whispers the old guy. The silver arrow
transfixes the three of us as it arcs into the blue. But the family are
already leaving. Tutting, the father lowers his camcorder, pops the
tape and throws it on the back seat.
'Come on Rick,' says the boy's mother.
'Will we be on TV dad?'
'Not this time son.'
They slam their doors, and the mother picks up her crisps again. They
pull away, on the backseat, the boy still tossing his toy into the
air.

We keep watching until the rocket disappears. The old guy shakes his
watch. He holds it up to his ear. 'I don't understand, it's never been
late.' I try to look sympathetic, but it comes out as a shrug. Elaine
pulls at my arm, 'Come on Bob. Time to go.' As we get back into our
car, the old guy leans over the windscreen, extends his hand.
'Hey,' he says, 'good luck. Best of luck to both of you kids.'
'Thanks,' I say, his hand is clammy. For a moment, I think he won't let
go.
'Best of luck. You won't need luck, but it helps sometimes.' He finally
releases me, watches as I reverse out into the road, and tips his cap
as we drive past. He steps out into the road waving and his hand is
still raised when he is nothing more than a silhouette behind us.