Tour De Farce

By Jessica Cummins

Madisen McNamara leads a relatively normal life, if you consider traveling four times a year normal. She tours the US and writes for her family's travel magazine. This allows Madisen to escape the everyday, mundane existence, and experience new adventures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 11, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387362189

Book preview

Tour De Farce

Tour de Farce

__________

Jessica Cummins

Tour de Farce

Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Cummins

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

ISBN 978-1-387-36218-9

Print ISBN 978-1-365-64835-9

Printed in USA by (Lulu)

Cover image by Chelle, (Michelle DiNicola), @chelledini.com

Dedication

To my parents:  For always believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.  Thank you.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to Michelle DiNicola for the cover art.  Be sure to check out Chelle’s beautiful digital photographs @chelledini.com

Thank you to Lori Cummins, Greg Cummins, Andy Cummins, Linda Stewart, Dr. Jo Campbell, Cindy Tillman, Heather Hesse and Mary Van Winkle for reading this book during the writing process and giving me feedback along the way.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Ohh, eyes on me everybody!  I looked up from Sunday’s New York Times crossword puzzle just as I was about to fill in twelve across, only to have my gaze immediately redirected from the perky speaker in front of me. 

If you look on the right side of the boat you will see a ridge in the embankment just there, the guide gushed for our tour group and the captain slowed the boat as we passed the area she indicated.  Five bored passengers whipped their heads to stare where she excitedly pointed.  Look!  That’s known as a gator slide.  You see, when an alligator slips into the water…

I returned to my crosswords.  This is the third Louisiana swamp tour I’ve been on in as many days.  I’m researching the different kinds of swamp tours and evaluating which ones are a better deal, more educational, entertaining, etc. for my job.  So far, this one has been the worst.  Now don’t get me wrong, gator slides are impressive to see up close and personal the first dozen times, but every indentation in the muddy bank does not constitute a gator slide.  And this tour guide is very excitable.  She’s already pointed out a heron and proudly called it a pelican.  Should I give her points because both are birds?  No, I will not.  And this is just the first hour of a three-hour tour showcasing wildlife.  (No, I did not miss the ominous, or maybe comical reference).

In my limited experience, it’s better to go on tours given by locals who know the area.  Our guide is a twenty-something, strawberry-blonde from Atlanta, named Destiny.  She also happens to be an aspiring actress.  (How do I know all of this?  She gave us her bio with headshots before the tour, which I promptly disposed of in disgust).  Her mani/pedi perfectly matches the hot pink summer dress and wedge sandals she’s wearing.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t trust any swamp guide that wears anything that out of place.  Now, if she was a tour guide for the Barbie® Museum I might be impressed.

And just who do I think I am?  Allow me to introduce myself.  I’m Madisen, the average girl-next-door type.  Pretty, but not too pretty to be full of myself.  I have shoulder-length hair that some would call dirty-blonde.  I just call it light brown.  My eyes are the color of chartreuse.  Translation: A vivid light green with a hint of yellow.  I generally wear clothes that bring out that bright chartreuse, and today is no different.  My t-shirt is the color of green-apples and I even have cute green tennis shoes to match; denim shorts complete my ensemble; in case you need a complete visual.

I glanced up again when a middle-aged man with a salt and pepper beard down to his navel cleared his throat.  He saw me look over at him and pointed to the left of the boat.  I turned my head, past the small wake the boat was making as it cut across the cloudy water, to the shore across from us.  We just passed an actual gator slide with an actual alligator sunning itself next to it, and what is Destiny doing?  She’s flirting with the cute guy in the seat next to me.  Insert eye roll here, with just a hint of exasperation.

At that moment, the middle-aged man half raised his arm.  Destiny, chile? he called out jovially.  I chuckled along with some of the others on the tour.  So engrossed in her conversation with the cute guy, Destiny completely missed the humor there.  Um, yes? she sputtered a little angrily.

I tink we jus pass one a dose gators o’er dere, he pointed out helpfully, nodding his head to the left of the boat with a toothless smirk.

She turned her head so fast; I thought she must have given herself whiplash.  Where is it? she shrieked, oblivious, as everyone rushed to my side of the boat causing it to tilt precariously to the left.  Where is it?

I don’t think everyone should be on one side of the boat, I said nervously.  At least three of you need to go back over there.  I pointed to the empty seats on the right side of the boat.

Between Destiny’s exclamations and coming face to face with an alligator in the wild, nobody was listening to me.  One thing I should mention is that this was not a conventional tour.  Most swamp tours use fast airboats or big flatboats with canopies and railings as a precaution for the tourists.  Not this tour, no, this tour uses small fishing boats that can barely hold six tourists, one guide, and one ‘boat captain’ to pilot it.  I joined this tour to give the magazine readers different options if they consider taking a trip down here.  Now I’m questioning that decision.

I tried again, raising my voice a little.  I am not comfortable with all of you crowding this side.

Everyone continued to ignore me.  That’s when something large hit the bottom of the boat and the cute guy next to me, who was now leaning over me for a closer look, lost his balance and plowed into me.  The momentum propelled both of us into the murky water.  I remember thinking ‘There goes my crossword’.  Everything after that is a blur.  Someone shouted Stop the boat.  Destiny screamed incoherently, cute guy wind-milled his arms frantically in the water next to me, all while a pair of chartreuse reptilian eyes stared me down in the water, no more than three feet away.  What are the odds of me running across another set of chartreuse eyes in the middle of a swamp, you ask?  I don’t know, what are the odds of seeing a kangaroo in Australia?  Whatever the odds, it made my heart pound erratically against my chest.  It was taking me a lot of effort to just remember to breathe.

The remaining tourists must be related.  The middle-aged woman grabbed the two teen girls and shoved them back to their seats while they all screamed for help piteously.  The boat pulled closer to us and a big arm reached over the side for me.  Something bumped the boat again, sending it a few feet away.

‘No, this can’t be happening,’ I thought to myself as I watched my salvation drift ever farther away.  ‘This is where I’m going to die.’

Everyone on the boat was screaming now.  Cute guy even added screaming to his thrashing.  I watched him exerting all his energy, I admit, it was quite entertaining.  How he wasn’t swallowing huge gulps of swamp water, I don’t know.  Just watching him made me realize we’re in this together, like it or not.  And that realization took my mind off my own panic attack to focus on helping the both of us get out of here alive.

Hey, can you swim?  I asked him after taking pity on his unsuccessful attempts at well, whatever he was trying to accomplish.

Of course, I can swim, he retorted with an obviously fake British accent.  What does it look like I’m doing?

Not swimming, I replied sarcastically.  You should try to calm down.  You’ll only attract more attention to yourself splashing around like that.

Calm, he turned in a frantic half circle to face me, We are in alligator and snake infested waters! he shouted almost maniacally.  How do you expect me to be calm at a time like this?

Look, I’m just trying to help.  I’m scared too, but it won’t do any good wasting my energy.  Besides, the boat isn’t that far away, I paused a minute to watch the spectacle in the boat.  The boat captain and the middle-aged man were trying to get everyone seated so they could get back to us without losing another person.  I sighed and turned my attention back to the cute guy.  I wondered if there was some way to calm his nerves and keep myself from sinking deep into his cesspool of despair.  Maybe if I could keep him talking, it will distract him from our surroundings.  Do you always speak in fake accents or is that something you do in times of stress?

He flailed around in a circle.  Alligators are stealthy and fast underwater; if one snags us, we’re history, he snapped.  Why do you care about my accent anyway?  This is how I talk.

I gave him a look across the top of the water.  I was well aware of numerous alligators within snatching range. You can be sure we are being watched from many vantage points.  There’s one, in front of us to the right a little, see the eyes above the water?  I nodded in the direction of the predator.  Then I pointed at the half submerged, uprooted tree near the shore with both an alligator and a snake sharing a rare patch of sun atop their perch.

He looked where I pointed and his eyes became big as saucers.  Oh, my God, we are going to die.  He floundered more vigorously.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good idea to remind him of our peril.  No, stop acting like the idiots in the boat.  We are going to be fine until our so-called rescuers come back for us, I rationalized.  Tell me your name, and save the ridiculous accent for someone it will actually work on.

My name, he hesitated, seeming somewhat surprised by the question, but stopped panicking a little and he dropped the accent.  I’m Dominic, but I go by Nic, he said with an obscenely pearly white grin.  No seriously, the commercials with the sparkly stars and the ‘ting’ sound have nothing on this guy’s teeth.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he slowed down and smiled back.  Well, Nic, was that so hard?  I’m Madisen.

Madisen?  That’s pretty, but surely you go by Madi or Sena?

I grimaced.  Sena?  Where did you come up with that?

You know the last part of your name but with an ‘a’ added to it.

Yeeaaah, no.

Nic was almost completely relaxed now, if not a little twitchy.  So, what brings you out here, Madisen?

I write for a North American travel magazine.  So, I go on tours like this for a living."

He finally stopped wind-milling to look at me.  That’s a pretty cool job.

I looked around us and made a face.  Most days it is.

Nic smirked.  He was treading water quietly now.  Have you worked there long?

Well, yes, I started answering phones there as a teenager.  My family owns a travel agency and the magazine is run from those offices.  I travel the United States and write about the best tours the good ol’ US of A has to offer, I continued.  FYI:  This tour will not be making an appearance in the magazine.  I shuddered involuntarily.

Nic laughed comfortably.  I think this tour should definitely get an honorable mention in the magazine.  You said it’s a North American travel magazine, so why not go to Canada or Mexico?

I smiled shortly.  I am the US correspondent for the magazine.  Canada and Mexico are covered by my siblings.  So, what do you do Nic?  I asked, diverting the conversation away from me.

Um, he stalled.  I’m a nature photographer, he answered after some thought.

I squinted at his response.  You don’t sound too sure about that.

Nic avoided my statement.  Maybe you could write the article and I could provide the pictures.

I shrugged unenthusiastically.  Maybe, but I hate to tell you that if you brought a camera out here it’s probably swimming with the fishes right now.

Nic’s eyes widened, and I was afraid he was about to backslide into a tailspin again, until he shook his head and laughed.  That’s not important.  I have many cameras, but maybe you should leave the jokes to the comedians.

I raised an eyebrow.

I’m just saying, Nic shrugged with a chuckle.  Hey, look, the boat is back.  Nic sighed in relief as the boat inched slowly closer to our position in the water.

Gimme yer hand lil’ lady, the boat captain said once the boat was nearly on top of us.

As I reached up and he started pulling me into the boat I felt something strong and rough brush against the back of my legs, almost causing the boat captain to lose his grip on me, but he yanked me on top of him just as Nic shouted, Get her in the boat, quick!

The gator that was staring us down had moved toward Nic before disappearing underwater, and Nic was flailing again.  The alligator’s tail must have been what I felt against my legs.

Nic, I shouted as I reached back into the water for him.  Here!  Grab my hand!

His eyes were unfocused and they darted around furiously.

Nic, he finally seemed to hear me and thrust his hand up to meet mine.  I struggled to pull him over the lip of the boat.

The captain pushed me aside to lift Nic.  His body was almost entirely in the boat when the gator launched out of the water and grabbed Nic’s right foot.

I froze.  Is this real?  Nic was afraid something like this would happen.  Destiny and the rest of the tour group started screaming again in a huddle at the front of the boat.  The boat captain and the middle-aged man grabbed Nic by the shoulders and played a terrifying game of tug of war with the gator.  Nic looked like a dog’s chew toy, yanked back and forth between the two sides.

I looked at Nic and saw my fear mirrored in his eyes, Madisen! he called desperately.

I knew someone had to do more to help him, or this wouldn’t end well.  The alligator had a strong grip on the ball of Nic’s foot, but it obviously wasn’t using its full bite force or Nic would be missing an appendage by now.  I swallowed my fear and reached a shaking hand toward the alligator’s huge jaw to untie and loosen Nic’s shoe.

As if it knew we were sabotaging it, the gator snapped its jaw and I sucked in my breath as Nic scurried backwards.  The shoe came off and the gator slipped back into the water with its sad prize.  Nic flew back into the men holding him, knocking them all down.

I fumbled to Nic’s side as he slumped back into the boat captain’s arms.

Are you hurt? I asked dumbly.  Let me see your foot.

Nic had his eyes closed, but he grabbed my arm.  Madisen you’re shivering, he commented.  I think you’re in shock.  Is there a blasted blanket on this horrid boat?

The captain quickly found two blankets and wrapped one around my shoulders and draped the other over Nic.  I tried to wave the blanket away, but Nic kept a firm grasp on my arm, keeping me still.

Nic, don’t worry about me, I’m fine.  Someone should check out your foot.

All right, he said stiffly. Someone needs to look after you too.

No, I said forcefully.  You’re injured, I’m not.

Nic opened his eyes to look at me then.  In all the chaos, I never noticed the color of his eyes.  They are such a light blue that there is almost a complete absence of color in some places, streaking his irises with bolts of lightning.  You were in the water with me; it could have been you the gator attacked.

I’ll check out his foot, said the middle-aged man, giving me a sympathetic look as he did.  You an’ the boy ‘ere shared a traumatic event.  You don’ need to see no more.  The name’s Bill, by the way.

Bill, I’m Madisen and that’s Nic, I said, suddenly tired.  We both appreciate your concern for our well-being.

Ain’t no trouble, Miss Madisen.  Bill moved to remove Nic’s slightly torn and bloody sock.  Sorry, boy, this is gone hurt.  Nic let go of my arm, but immediately balled his hand into a fist and cried out when the sock pulled against the torn flesh.

I craned my neck to see over Bill’s shoulder.  Nic’s foot was completely swollen and red from the top of the arch, to his toes.  Three of the alligator’s teeth punctured and grazed the top of Nic’s foot and a large chunk of skin was dangling limply from the side.   Dang, she got ya good boy!  Ya gonna ‘ave yersef a mighty black & blue foot ‘ere.

Nic flinched at Bill’s words and forced himself to sit up and look at his foot, the color draining from his face.  I shouldn’t have done that.  Nic grabbed his head and closed his eyes again. Oh, I’m getting dizzy.

I looked around at all the blank, but suddenly docile faces of the tour group.  Where’s the first aid kit? I shouted at Destiny, Someone needs to clean and wrap his bleeding and gaping wounds.  Destiny just stared at me in confusion.  I stared back