Sony and Carol
The expedition from Haiti arrived in Kisangani following a grueling journey from the capital, Kinshasa. They made good time—if three days could be considered good—for traveling almost a thousand miles. Kisangani was known as Stanleyville until the sixties, when Mobutu decided to rid the country of western influence. The airport was the assembly area, with some of the expedition flying out in helicopters and the main forces going overland.
Trucks and Jeeps took the same general path that John and Vikki Cole took in 1966. Some of the roads were paved now, and a few new logging trails would allow them to get within fifteen to twenty miles of the island in the middle of the Aruwimi River.
An overall expedition plan had been put together by Bruny Jean-Baptiste, who was in charge of the entire operation. Haiti had brought a few troops, the term used loosely, since Haiti no longer had an official army. Bruny’s personnel from Haiti consisted of ten mercenaries and himself, along with two personnel helicopters and one large supply helicopter, two trucks, and two Humvees, donated to Haiti by the U.S. Along for the ride for protection and to solidify the government’s interest in the mining concession were ten members of the DRC’s military. This particular concession had been extremely profitable for the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the last forty-four years. As far as anyone knew, the government had never inspected the mine, yet they received a huge check every month for mining royalties. An Ivory Coast bank mailed the monthly check based on diamonds being sold off at certain times of the year from the large collection brought in by John Cole. John and Vikki had also received checks for their twenty-five percent ownership.
To represent the family, John and Vikki’s son, Michael Sony Cole, joined the expedition. He was in his early forties, and a mechanical engineer who worked at his dad’s oil company. His twin sisters, Jan and Zuka, wanted desperately to go, but everyone warned them about the dangers for women in this part of Africa. Kidnapping and rape occurred on a scale off the charts. Their brother, Sony, promised to fly them in later when the country settled down. No one expected that to happen until the next Ice Age. The twin girls were a few years younger and both had children.
Sony was recently divorced and hadn’t done much dating. He wanted kids. His former wife couldn’t have any, and she had no desire to adopt. Neither had really messed around, but the flame just went out, and they thought they would be happier going their separate ways. Sony needed an adventure.
The advance crew going by helicopter consisted of Sony, Chris, Mit, Modesto, and an assortment of geologists, mine engineers, military officers, a doctor, and a couple of cultural experts. Devil Man and Jackie would also go as security for the advance party. Each helicopter held six people and a lot of gear, but according to the logs kept by Vikki Cole, the dimensions of the enclosure would accommodate them.
Bruny had contacted John and Vikki by phone and in person in Texas before taking on his expedition leader job. He found them in good health. John, in his seventies, and Vikki in her late sixties, were retired and enjoyed being grandparents. Several of the original expedition members had kept journals, but Vikki’s was by far the most precise. She gave Bruny a copy and added notes she thought might be helpful. Of course, her private notes referring to her relationship with John were removed. Since she had used the expedition as part of her requirements for her Master’s degree in geology, she had written an outstanding paper that later became her dissertation. Bruny had also read the dissertation. The final work was also shared with the expedition leader. Most of the other prominent members of the 1966 trip had died or had not been located. Jan, Marc, and Sony had all passed away. Michael “Sony” Cole was fortunate enough to have met the real Sony when he came to visit the Coles in Texas about twenty years ago. The Coles had paid for a reunion of the expedition at their place, including travel expenses for the survivors who were willing to come.
John had taken the reins of Hanover Oil from Vikki’s dad, Mike. Now Sony was in line to do the same. He had prepared for this expedition as though he were a NASA official planning a trip to Mars. He knew the types of snakes indigenous to the area, along with a full inventory of wild life. In his mind, the biggest risk was not disease, snakes, elephants, poison arrows, or any piece of the landscape’s flora or fauna. Rather, the big peril awaiting them was rebel forces that had plagued the Congo for years. A downsized but still lethal remnant of Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army was reported to be moving between the Central African Republic, Uganda, Somalia, and occasionally into the Democratic Republic of the Congo. No, the peril was dozens of so called rebel factions—most of them without names.
Sony may have planned his butt off for this trip, but he was not prepared for a young anthropologist who stood next to the large helicopter he was about to board.
She extended her hand “Hi! I’m Carol Barbot.”
Sony was in shock. Here stood a woman brushing back long blonde-streaked brown hair from her face—a runway model face. Beautiful white teeth glistened behind a smile wrapped with gorgeous full lips. She flashed lovely green eyes. He also noticed her dark olive complexion. As her soft feminine hand shook his, Sony sized up her body quickly and efficiently. All was in perfect harmony. Even her breasts were in motion while she and Sony shook hands. He had to act cool, since this most likely was the most beautiful woman he had ever touched, even in the form of a mere handshake.
“Carol, very nice to meet you. I’m Michael Sony Cole. You can call me Sony,” he said, as calmly as possible for a man who hadn’t been laid in a year. Now he was holding the hand of a first degree sex goddess.
“Did your parents name you after their television set?” She said. Her lips curled in a quirky smile.
“After the clock-radio next to their bed. Seemed like the thing to do after conception,” Sony said with a straight face. He had been down the Sony name road too many times.
Carol laughed out loud. She had met her match at smartass conversation. She might possibly have just met someone as handsome as she was beautiful. Sony was six foot three, slim, athletic, with a combination of his mother’s and dad’s good looks taken up a notch and capped off with a head of thick blond hair and piercing blue eyes.
“Did they hire you to be our expedition comedian, or do you have a real job here?” she quipped.
“My parents own part of the mining concession, and I’m not sure why I’m here. And you were sent here to keep our minds off of the perils of the jungle?” Sony said, a little sarcastically.
“Absofuckinglutely! Once I strip down to bathe in the river, the pygmies will line the banks, and you guys just shoot them all,” she said, also with sarcasm.
Sony laughed, and realized this woman was a lot of fun. “Just in case—since I would be lining the bank to watch as well—would you mind telling them not to shoot me?”
“You’re golden, Sony. I will save you from pygmies and friendly fire every time.”
“Carol, now really, tell me about yourself with the least amount of fabrication possible.”
“You make things hard for me, Sony. I was thinking about liking you—but now it’s over.” She was clearly having fun with him. “I am a certified first class cultural anthropologist. With three degrees, for which I am also—like a doctor. Not a real doctor who would ask you to drop your drawers—not that I might not ask that of you sometime, but the Ph.D. kind where you don’t get to see people naked.”
“So, Carol, we hired you for this expedition so that you can put tags on the toes of the natives we shoot? Or—maybe you are one of those bleeding hearts who will tell us not to shoot natives? I knew it! This expedition is not going to be any fun, and I want to go home.” Sony delved deeper into dark humor, knowing she would probably protect natives with her life.
“Sony, any natives you shoot have to be cleaned and stuffed for our museum. So don’t think you are just going to leave them in the jungle. The first thing you learn at anthropologist school is to not waste a dead pygmy. Very important to conserve the bounty nature gives us.” She laughed at how far she had carried the dead pygmy humor.
“Carol, I can’t wait any longer, since I’m beginning to think we could go on tour together. Are you married?” Sony realized all this banter could end quickly.
“No. Not this week. And you?”
“Not in the last year. Would you like to pretend we are married for the trip, and see if we would like it?”
“Sony—the man named after a clock-radio, I take you as my phony-ass husband as long as we are in the jungle together. Once we hit pavement again –it may be over.”
“Carol, I take these vows of marriage as just a stupid excuse to have sex together in the jungle, and will treat them and keep them, use them, for my own selfish satisfaction. So help me.”
“I pronounce us jungle married, and you may kiss the bride,” Carol said, as she pulled Sony close to her and kissed him. Actually, it was a very good deep kiss. They kissed again, and Sony said, “I had a ring picked out, but didn’t know your size.”
“Uh—I don’t know your size either. Maybe I should have waited to marry you until we had spent a little time together?”
“Oh, no! You are stuck with whatever size I am. Jungle divorces are almost impossible to get. Pygmies hate divorces and usually kill those who come before them with that request,” Sony said.
“Yes. I remember that from anthropology school. But as I recall the man is killed, and the chief takes the woman as a wife or… slave maybe.”
“Carol, you pull these anthropological assessments right out of your ass don’t you?”
“You’ll have to check later, sweetie, since it’s all yours in the jungle.”
“I like being married to you, Carol. You are so abnormal,” Sony said.
“Ah, yes, a most charming trait. You seem to possess abnormality at a deeper, psychological level—a level that someday may require medication.”
“Carol, I’ll loan you my meds anytime.”
While these two married each other and worked on a comedy routine, the jet carrying Mit, Chris and Modesto landed at the airport. The expedition would be headed out soon.