Thursday, May 3, 2012

Mandinella

"Amanda!" echoed the voice of my roommate, Nellie.  She was doing laundry and didn't know the difference between whites and darks, therefore, I knew something was wrong.  I hurried to her aid and upon arrival, I saw her holding a pink, once white, tank top in her hands.

"What happened," she wondered with an unexplainable, yet terrified expression on her face.  Gazing at her, I could feel her emotional distress and was taken back in time to a situation where I'd felt the exact same.

"What happened?" I asked as I awoke with the feeling that I'd just been hit by a Mack truck!

"You were just in a plane crash," answered on of the strangers standing in a circle above me.

"We're the only ones left," said another.

I opened my eyes wider and all I could see was sunlight blinding me from every possible direction.  The temperature was almost unbearable and as I sat up, I could taste tiny grains of sand in my mouth.  At that moment, I realized I'd been stranded in a desert with four complete strangers.

The other survivors were the strangest acquaintances of my life.  First was Bubba Keith, the roundest guy I'd ever seen.  He must have housed at least one hundred meals a day, which was good at that point, for his massive belly shaded the sun from my eyes.

Looking to the right of Bubba, my eyes encountered Fabioli, the God of Love.  Not literally, but his perfect bone structure radiated through the glory of his silky, blonde locks and plush red lips.  My heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest and sweat dripped from my temples.

"You need some help getting up?" he asked.

"Yes!" I blurted out like a yelping dog having puppies.  As my height reached his, I nearly drowned in the crystal clear blue oceans that were his gentle eyes, and melted into his subconscious vibe. I was weak.

"Thanks," I said nervously.

He spoke, "It's alright.  Don't be nervous.  Most chicks dig me and my totally studly appearance."

Right then a cold chill shot up my spine and Fabioli quickly turned to Fabdouchi, the biggest ego in the desert, and I looked away in sheer disgust.  What a disappointment!  If only he hadn't kept his mouth shut!

As soon as my eyes finished rolling, Mercury lined up with Venus and I fell in love once more.  This time was different though.  It wasn't Fabioli, but rather a down-to-earth, cool dude with long, curly locks of hair flowing wildly around his face.  The sun cast shadows on his face, bringing out a dark, mysteriousness.  Mystery was the word for this one.

Noticing my admiration, he introduced himself, "I'm Trykelor, but don't be alarmed by my name.  My parents were super hero freaks!"

I returned his welcome, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. T."

We both laughed and after our eyes locked curiously in a gaze, we grinned solemnly at each other.

Last, but certainly not least, I met Billabong, a flower and herb specialist.  His remarkable knowledge of herbs sounded very impressive, but what herbs grow in the desert?  Billabong wasn't all "plant" brain though.  He always had a time consumed thought or insight to add to the running conversation.  He was a man of pure opinion, and I think that's what I admired about him so much.

As I started walking toward the scattered debris of the plane, numerous questions aroused in my head.  I turned to the diverse group of men behind me and asked, "So, where are we?"

"I don't know, but the sun is really perfect for bronzing my super juicy bod.  I always say, 'When the sun's out, the guns come out," replied Fabdouchi as he took his shirt off and began flexing his biceps.

Bubba unphased by the scene, began heading into what was left of the cockpit of the plane, "Do you think there are any peanuts left in these cabinets?"

I pleaded, "I don't know, Bubba, but let's get our heads together here!  Where are we?"

Billabong stepped up and precisely calculated, "We're almost in the dead center of the Sahara Desert, probably along the border of Algeria, which puts us about 500 miles to the nearest city." He headed over to the airplane and began rummaging through the luggage shelf.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"A radio or cell phone.  At this point, it's our only hope." Billabong bluntly stated, "If we can even get reception out here."

For two hours we searched every inch of that plane.  Our backs were aching and no sign of help drained us of any hope we had left.  We had to find something, anything!  I wasn't meant to die like this!  My life hadn't even really started yet.  This trip was my first venture out of the country, a chance to see some of the rest of the world for once!

Just then , Trykelor screamed at the top of his lungs, "Guys, Come here and look what I found!"

To Be Continued (tomorrow)

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