Karl von Wiegand, he was also a fan of my work. And in times like these, I could use all the fans I could get.
Chapter Three
B y the time I got back to Hoboken, it was 3:00 AM. I hit the sack hard and only got a few hours sleep. What the hell did I get myself into? I thought.
Every time I closed my eyes, I was jolted awake by dreams of this woman, Patricia. No girl had ever hit me like that before. Of all the women in the world to fall in love with, I had to pick the one who was paying me to find her lost husband.
It didn’t quite add up. But there I was. In the middle of a big mystery named Friday and it was only Tuesday afternoon. No one knows what tomorrow will bring. But I knew I had to be in Lakehurst by noon to find out. My luggage consisted of two changes of clothes (all black), a notebook, pen and two hundred bucks in cash. And one photograph of a rabbit named Mark.
“My God!” the driver said as we arrived at Lakehurst Bay, “are you one of them?” It was a total traffic jam and thousands of people lined the sides of the street.
“One of whom?” I asked.
“You know, one of those Hollywood people! I don’t get to watch that many movies, but everyone knows about the famous trip across America! It is all over the radio!”
“No,” I said. “I am not one of them, I am just a passenger.”
Seeing the Graf moored on the parking lot even made me gasp in awe. I had never seen her up close like this. She was amazing!
Fire trucks and police cars surrounded the area. The Army was even there with trucks and a few tanks. It was a big show, and everyone wanted to get in on the action. It was a surreal site to behold.
To get onto the tarmac, we had to pass a security checkpoint.
Oh shit! I thought.
“You can’t come any further,” the security guard told the driver.
“Oh, it’s all right, the cabbie said. “My fare is one of them! He is on the list!”
I held my head in my hands. This is not going to happen! I thought.
“Name please!” the security man said.
“Bay!” the driver said.
The security guard was looking at his notebook.
“Okay,” he replied. “Go up to the yellow line.”
Holly shit! I thought. I guess the old boy got me on the list after all!
Crowds surrounding the Graf were kept at bay. I had to walk nearly a block from the cab to the ship itself. People were cheering and waving at me. With each step I took, the sheer size and magnitude of the vessel grew by leaps and bounds. The realization that this was indeed a big deal didn’t hit me until then. I was merely looking for a free and quick passage to California. It was much more than I’d bargained for, and I hadn’t even boarded yet.
Security led me to the main passenger entrance.
“No, I need to go back to the cargo area.”
“Negative, sir,” the security officer said. “That is a restricted area.”
“Look you dumb ass, I am with Alvon the Great!” I replied. “I need to go back there!”
He looked at me puzzled and then said, “You wait right here, sir, I need to confirm that!”
Ten minutes later, the security officer returned.
“You need to enter in the cargo area, sir!” He pointed towards the rear of the ship, like I didn’t know where that was.
By then, I knew