‘Hello, Liesel, it’s not working. Captain Fahrer’s depressed as ever. I don’t know how much lower moral can get. Do you realize this’s the fifth time we’ve visited this planet? In as many months?’ Smith stamped the ground. ‘Every time he climbs that mountain, he comes down even more depressed. I can’t take it any longer.’Read more "Out ouf the Chocolate Box (22)"
Several kangaroos bounded across the sealed road in front of us. We slowed, keeping a wary eye on the wildlife that seem to have an attraction for roads and cars at dusk. Once in the camping ground, we followed the clearly numbered camp sites until we found ours.
Mr K set up the tent with little help from me. I just held the poles while he hammered pegs into the hard ground pitted with stones. He made sure the Ford stood between our tent and the gum tree.
I hide in the hollow of a log. It is damp and mossy and smells funky. Night falls. The crickets chirp, owls hoot, the other animals growl, squeak and squawk. I am cold, hungry, and all alone in the dark.Read more "Out of the Chocolate Box (20)"
‘What do you say, ol’ boy?’ Mr B badgered Dad.
‘I don’t know, it’s getting late.’
We edged around the southern foot of the mountain-sized boulders. Mr B leaned forward and peered at the hill leaning up against the designated highest peak. ‘I mean to say, we could give it a try.’
‘We have to do something, or we can forget about the mission.’
‘It seems to me like you already have.’ I was amazed at how naïve these Aussies could be. I had, only five minutes before, left an extremely, most harrowing shift with Fahrer.
‘What? Was Fahrer Fox again?’ Liesel spat cheesy globs all over me. ‘What, exactly did you do, with Fox?’ She looked at me.
I glanced down in shame. ‘Sorry, it just sort of…happened.’
Her limbs jerked like pigeons startled by the proverbial cat. ‘You are familiar with ISF principles and procedures.’ She paced the tight kitchen space. ‘Oh, shoot! Now what are we going to do?’
‘Yes, Sir!’ I gazed beyond his seat to the monitors. One, in particular, caught my attention; the lines of navigation plotting a direct course for the Pilgrim Planet. Holding his headrest, I leaned over and breathing down his muscular neck said, ‘What are you doing, Sir?’Read more "Out of the Chocolate Box (16)"