Into the Fire: Part Two
"So, did you get accepted for that posting you put in a transfer for?"
"Yeah, mum. I did, but there's a bit of a hitch."
"Like what? If it's someplace dangerous, you know how I feel about that – but it's your decision to make. I just don't want you going some place where they…"
"Mum, Canada looks just as dangerous to some people as Africa does to us!"
"You're going to Africa?"
Rhoannan grimaced, "yeah, mum. My posting is in Africa. Rwanda."
"Rwanda! Rhoannan Jean Orr, what are you thinking? Have you even noticed that Rwanda is the worst country in the world – they kill millions of people there for sport," Sheryl Orr shrieked into the phone. "They kill women for fun! What in Gods name were you thinking, requesting to go there?"
Rhoannan waited for her mum to finish venting, which took almost fifteen minutes, before she said anything. "Mum, I actually didn't apply for Rwanda – I asked for Kenya, but they needed people in Rwanda. It's not that bad, mum. Honest! The base is very secure, and only the best get to go. It's an honour, and I'm sure to get at least a blue beret for this. They might even give us our own coloured beret!"
Her mum sighed, obviously drained by her outburst. "But honey, its so scary there."
Rhoannan closed her eyes and stifled a groan.
"Mum, it's okay. I'll be fine, I'm going to be surrounded by British SAS, Australian Rangers and American Marines! The only thing you have to worry about is that I'll get swept off my feet by an American and decide to live in the 'states when I get back."
She could tell her mum was getting to the end of her patience, so she did the sane thing and asked to talk to dad. "I haven't talked to him for almost a month except in e-mails. Which, by the way, I'm amazed you finally taught him to use. He even has his own e-mail address, it's adorable!"
Her mum admitted defeat and passed the phone off to her husband who had been pestering her the entire time to let him have the phone. He'd even gone as far as listening in for part of the conversation on the other line until Sheryl had gotten after him to quit eavesdropping.
"Hey there, stinker," a gravely voice came over the line. It choked Rhoannan up to hear the emotion dripping in his voice like tears. "How's my Roar doing?"
Fighting back her own tears, as she was sure her dad wasn't doing, she smiled and murmured, "hey pa. I'm doing good, how're you?"
"Missing my little Roarer," he replied in just as soft a voice.
"Dad, I'm sorry I haven't talked to you for so long. I've been busy and when I do call, you're out with the cattle or you're asleep."
"It's okay, honey. I just wish you'd have gotten your mother to wake me up when you called and I was home," her dad said wistfully. "Despite what the two of you seem to think, I'm not all old and frail. I'm in better shape than the both of yous."
Rhoannan grinned, "Just don't let my CO or mom hear that."
They chuckled and the old farmer sniffled softly.
"So I hear you're off to Africa, going to tame some lions and teach monkeys to play hockey?"
"No, did you know that in equatorial areas they don't get that much snow? It's never hockey season, always baseball. Besides," she joked, "it'd be awfully hard to find skates to fit those monkeys."
"Well, you could always use those strap on skates that Meagan and Neil-Willie had when they were little. And if there isn't snow, take roller blades and teach them road hockey."
Rhoannan giggled at the thought of a pack of monkeys playing road hockey in roller blades, "yeah, and we'd have to teach them to shout car when an elephant goes through."
A pleasant silence followed.
God, she was going to miss her dad.
Of course, she'd miss all of her family, but she and her dad were close. Buddies.
She was also close to Brett; it was like when someone said another person was the brother they'd never had, he was the brother she'd always had. He'd picked on her and infuriated her, as all brothers do, but he was always there for her. When she broke her collarbone, he was there trying to make her laugh. (Even though she broke it while running away from him as he threatened to toss her in the muddy garden.)
And when a mean boy in school said cruel things to her, he found out who the kid was and pinned him up against the lockers at eye-height and told him never to hurt his kid sister ever again. It still made her laugh to remember the reports of how big the kid's eyes were and how he was so scared he peed himself. She wasn't bugged again for the rest of year by the bullies, and that particular boy hardly ever spoke to her again. Even in high school he seemed wary of her, as though her giant brother was still hiding somewhere in the shadows, waiting for him to slip up and say something mean.
How could she leave them?
"So, you told your mum that there was a hitch to the transfer, and I'm assuming you don't mean the whole part about Rwanda."
Rhoannan gulped, she really didn't know how to tell her dad that she might never talk to him again, might be lost in another galaxy for the rest of her life. That she might get killed by some unknown enemy, or some other strange death that might face them all in the Pegasus galaxy. How could she possibly tell him that she wouldn't even be able to e-mail them from Rwanda? She'd have to think of something…
"Well, dad," she pulled at threads, desperately hoping one to be tied to an answer. "There's rules about going there, and one of them is no incoming or outgoing communications. So the time that I'm there, I don't think I'll be able to talk or e-mail."
There was a heavy silence.
"No communications? None?"
"None," she whispered.
"No e-mail?"
"No."
"What about snail mail? Post cards? Carrier pigeons?"
She shook her head, holding back the sobs, and made a negative sound.
'Wait! Post cards? Brain, you know something, you have an idea…. Go my minions… think!' Thoughts swirled through her head and a plan was formulated.
"Wait, dad, I think I might be able to get post cards out! When people go back and forth, I'll see about getting someone to carry a postcard and mail it from the states when they get back! Dad, you're a genius!"
They chuckled and joked for a while longer then made annoying kissing noises and said goodbye.
Rhoannan jumped out of her rack and hung the phone up as she dashed out of the blocks to the office she shared with Joe Parker. Luckily, the mousy anthropologist was still there working on some report that would likely never see the light of day.
"Hey Joe, I just had a thought – you're going to be in country for the next few years?"
Joe looked up with dark watery eyes from his work and twitched his pointy nose in curiosity. "Yeah," he squeaked, "why do you ask, Rho?"
Rhoannan plunked herself down in her comfy leather chair, absently wishing she could bring it with her, and propped her booted feet up on the edge of her messy desk.
"I don't want my folks to think that I'm not, you know, dead or in another galaxy – that kind of stuff – while I'm gone. Do you think you could do a favour for me?"
Joe played with the cord of his lamp nervously, "I'm not sure… what is it?"
"Could you fake my mail?"
"What?"
Rhoannan grinned at the startled look the little man wore, as if the cheese he had been eyeing up suddenly turned into a mousetrap. "I'd write a few post-cards ahead of time, and you could figure out my writing style, etc, and mail them off for me and then when they mail me back, care of you, you can write back for me! It'd work, I'll just have to think up some scenarios that might happen and write out a few examples of how I'd react. You could use that to write a few post-cards, maybe one every few months, and mail them to my folks for me."
"Opening someone else's mail is illegal in the USA, Rho."
She smiled and tossed the eraser she had been fiddling with at his balding head.
"Not if I give you permission, hun."
Joe paused for a few moments, thinking over her proposal then shrugged and smiled at her. "I suppose I could give you a hand."
"Great!"
