The phone rang several times. I wuz nearly 'bout to give up when a voice said, "Allo, oo is dis plis?"

I said, "Is this here the Havana Motel?"

The disembodied voice replied, "No, I don' theenk so. Dis is de Habana Motel from where I am having speeks with joo. We hab only one phone, so joo are not here."

"Well, that's what I meant. Are you the Havana Motel?"

"No, señor, I am not de Habana Motel, but I do work here,jes."

"Wellsir, I reckon that'll have to do. Has ya'll got any rooms fer the weekend?"

"Oh, jes, señor. We hab alot of rooms. Over two hundred. Dey will all still be here this weekend, I theenk."

"Nosir, I don't bleev you is understandin' whut I is a-tryin' to communicate to you. What I wants to know is do you got a vacancy, that is a empty room fer this weekend?"

"Oh," replied the Cuban, "Why joo did not say so, Jes, we hab a lot of empty room for this weekend. Joo want make reserves for one?"

So I sez to him, I did, I said, "Yessir, I do. My name is Herman Wormrite. I shore 'nuff do want to reserve one of them empty rooms fer me an' my ol' fishin' buddy Teakwood Finnish. We's a-gonna be arrivin' on Fridee evenin', and we'll probly stay till Sundee."

"Jes, hokay. We hab a room for joo. Sank joo berry much, señor."

Wellsir, I don't know if'n ya'll has heared about this or not, but them there Cubans, they cain't hardly talk no English. But I heard tell that some folks wuz a-goin' down to Cuba to go fishin'. Y'know I talked to a feller what had jest got back from there. Why, son, this here feller said that that there Treasure Lake in Cuba wuz fuller'n a tick with them ol' great big ol' monstrous bigmouth basses. Wellsir, onced I heared about that, me and ol' Teak had to take a li'l trip down there to see fer ourselfs. Who knowed, maybe we could ketch some of them big ol' good 'uns.

Wellsir, come Fridee mornin' me and ol' Teak loaded up our luggage which consisted of six tackle boxes, twelve rod and reels, an' one suitcase inta that there airplane. We wuz a-gonna fly from Oil Slick City to Dallas on Puddle Jumper Air. PJA is owned by one o' them good ol' boys in the bass club with us by the name o' Zeke Kaboom. Ol' Zeke ain't got but one li'l plane. It's a 1937 model crop duster what he has modified and remodeled inta a state o' the art flyin' bus. Puddle Jumper only flies from Oil Slick to DFW, so's we wuz a-gonna have to fly from Dallas to Havana on another airline.

Wellsir, everthang wuz a-goin' great guns till we wuz 'bout halfway to Dallas. I'm tellin' ya, that ther plane commenced to runnin' outta gas. Wellsir, I wuz purt near upset, I wuz fer a fact. I wuz a-thinkin' we never would git to Dallas at that rate. But ol' Zeke, he's a purty sharp ol' codger. He went and landed that there airplane right on the main street in Hogslop Junction. Man, them folks shore did stare at us, yes they did. Everbody in town come out to have a looksee. That's right, all six of 'em. Now, this part might be a li'l bit hard to bleev, but ol' Zeke drove that airplane right up to the Texaco station, and he said, "Fill 'er up with Ethyl." He did fer a fact. Y'know that there station attendant acted like planes landed there ever day. He didn't show no adverse reaction whatsoever. He jest filled up the tank, and we wuz back in the air faster'n you kin say Billy Bob.

Now if'n you ain't never been to that there DFW airport, then you might not bleev this, but when ol' Zeke landed the plane me an' ol' Teak spent three days a-lookin' fer gate 26R where we wuz sposeta git on our flight. "Acourse, by the time we got there, our flight had already done left. So we runned to the ticket counter and splained our sitchyation to the lady behind that there counter. And she said, "Sir, there is a plane leavin' fer Havana in jest about thirty minutes. Lemme see if'n I kin git ya'll on it. I'll have to call my supervisor. Now I don't know what passes fer super in Dallas, but this here visor didn't look all that super to me. He wuz a li'l ol' wimpy lookin' feller. That gal splained our perdicament to him and he commenced to lookin' thorugh a li'l ol' green book of some sort. Finely he decided we could ride that there plane, but by the time we got our tickets we only had a minute and a half to git to the plane. But that there visor feller, I jest cain't bring myself to refer to him as super, spoked right up and said, "They has been instructed to hold the plane fer you two gennelmans."

Wellsir, we didn't want to impose on them other folks on the flight so we grabbed up our gear and made a beeline fer that plane. Wellsir, by the time we made it to the jetway, they wuz a closin' up the hatch. Well, now I didn't rightly know whut to thank cuz that there visor said they wuz a-gonna hold the plane fer us. Me an' Teak made a last second despert leap fer the door, but it uz too late. We jest bounce right offa that there closed up hatch and wound up a-layin' on the ground right underneath that there airplane. I thought at first that I wuz hallucificatin' when I heared a voice over a loudspeaker a-sayin', "Hold flight 683. There's two sabotoors on the runway."

Wellsir, now that got ol' Teakwood's attention right away, yes it did. He jumped up offa the ground and commenced to hollerin'. "Sabatodgers! Where they at? Let's us ketch 'em, Herman!"

"I really hates to tell ya this, ol' buddy," I said. "I thank they is a-talkin' 'bout us." Shore 'nuff, they wuz. We found ourselfs surrounded by a whole mess of them there security folks. Two of 'em wuz FBI agents, and they drug us inta a car what was a-sittin' right there beside the plane. Wellsir, it took me and Teak three whole weeks fer to convince the FBI, the FAA, and the sheriff that we wuzn't a-tryin' to blow up that there airplane. Man, that wuzn't no fun at all.

Wellsir, I'm tellin' ya, when they finely decided to let us go, they put us onta another airplane what wuz a-goin' straight to Havana. Well, everthang went purty good, and that there plane took off right on time. Yes it did. When we wuz up in the air, I looked right out the winder at the ground. I could see cars down there, but they wuz a-gettin' smaller and smaller. Why, son, it felt jest like we wuz a-goin' inta orbit. Yessiree. Ol' Teakwood looked over at me and he said, "Man, I shore do hope one of them hippie-type Communist pinko fags don't try to hijack us to Cuba or sumpthin'"

So's I said to him, "You dummy. How could that happen? We is already a-goin' to Cuba."

And, ya know what he said? You won't never bleev it. He said, "I still don't wanta git hijacked to Cuba, no matter where it is we's a-goin'." Wellsir, I couldn't take no more of that kinda stuff, so's I jest went to sleep. Whilst I wuz still a-sleepin' I felt sumpthin' go whump, so's I looked out the winder and seen that we wuz on the ground. Teakwood jumped up outta his seat and hollered "We's a-gonna crash!"

"We cain't crash, you moron! We is on the ground in Cuba," I said. Now, that infermation seemed to calm him down a considerble lot. Wellsir, the first thang we had to do in Cuba wuz to go through customs. I knowed that wouldn't be no problem, though. Right before we left I had called my brother-in-law, Hubert Lostmann, of Lostmann Travel Service. Well, ol' Hubie done told me that all o' them Cuban customs inspectors wuz crooks. He said all ya had to do wuz slip 'em a few bucks and they would let ya right through without no problems. So's when we got to the front of the line, I slipped that there inspector a five-spot and grinned at him. Man, you ain't never seen nothin' like what transpired after that. That there inspector feller throwed that there money on the ground. Then he commenced to jumpin' up and down and a-hollerin' fit to beat the band.

He fixed a look of pure hatred on us, and he yelled, "So, joo try to bribe a goverment official! Joo feelthy American capitalist peeg!" Yessir, he wuz a might peeved, he wuz. Wellsir, next thang I knowed we wuz surrounded by nearly 'bout a dozen great ol' big Cuban fellers. Ever one of 'em had one of them there tommy guns. Yes they did. And they wuz aimed right at us. Wellsir, I don't mind tellin' ya that ol' Teak was somewhat afeared. Why, that boy nearly bout wet his britches, he did. Not me, of course. I wuzn't skeered of no tommy gun totin' Commies. Wellsir, them ol' boys slapped handcuffs on us faster'n you kin say Karl Marx. They beat the livin' tar out of us and chunked us inta a li'l ol' bitty dark room without nary a winder in the whole entire place.

Wellsir, we jest set there and waited. They weren't nothin' else to do, mid ya. Now, about a week later, this here other Cuban feller what also had a tommy gun come in and he said, "Come weet me." Wellsir, they weren't nothin' else we could do, so's we went. We follered that there feller inta bigger room what contained a large table and six chairs. "Seet down!" said the feller with the tommy gun. "Joo hab receibed a fair trial. Joo are sentenced to spend the rest of joor peetiful lifes in preeson."

Wellsir, now that come as quite a shock. It did. They chunked us inta a li'l prison cell. That there cell wuz none too clean. It wuz filled plum up with big ol' cockroaches and filthy rats. "Jest like home," said Teakwood.

"Shuddup and eat yore slop!" I said. Wellsir, that very next day they hauled us out to a sugar plantation with a bunch of other prisoners and put us to work a-cuttin' cane. Yes they did. Well, lemme tell ya, by the end of that day, I wuz plum tuckered out. Why, even that there prison hogslop tasted good that night.

Wellsir, the next day they took us out to a dock where we wuz put to work loadin' big ol' bags of tobacco onta a ship. I whispered to Teakwood, I said, "D'ya see where this here tobacco is headed?"

Wellsir, ol' Teak, he ain't dumb or nothin'; he looked at the adress what wuz on them bags, and he said, "Miami?"

"Yessir, that's right, and I has got a plan." So's I set down and splained my plan to Teak whilst we wuz a-eatin' our lunch on that there dock. The lunch, by the way wuzn't near as bad as the prison food. In fact it wuz plum tasty. Wellsir, ol' Teak thunk my plan had some promise, so's after lunch we put it inta action. Whilst nobody wuz a-lookin' we emptied two of them big ol' bags of tobacco out inta the water. Wellsir, I crawled right inta one of them bags, and ol' Teak got in the other one. Purty soon them other prisoners tossed us onta the ship with the rest of the tobacco, and that there is how we got home. Course, we couldn't move much until we wuz unloaded in Miami, but then we wuz free men. Yessiree.

Wellsir, we never did git to do no fishin' down there in Cuba. Maybe we never will. But I is happy jest to have got back home in one piece. Yessir, the good ol' USA is where I plan to stay from now on. No more foreign trips fer me. Except, well, maybe. I've been hearin' about that there Sea of Tranquility on the moon. Why I bet it is jest chock full o' big ol' lunar basses. Maybe some day we kin go up there and see . . .

© Dennis Turner 1997