Lucky Jim 3 Cajun and GatorChapter 10
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“Dorothy Shaw, Director of the Lucky Jim Historical Society provided the first ‘official’ verification of the Lucky Jim credential,” The President continued. “Dorothy, are you still sure about your authentication?”
Dorothy was next to Jim and stood up. “I am even surer today than I was the day I originally agreed that he was Lucky Jim. Before meeting him, I’d met with numerous claimants to the title Lucky Jim and none of them met the standard. When I met with Jim, he made no claim to the title and even professed a desire not to be Lucky Jim. He isn’t interested in fame or wealth. His main interest was in the safety and happiness of his family.
“If you remember your history, the first two Lucky Jims were also reluctant to accept the title. Even after I was sure, he said something that struck me as both funny and profound. ‘A catch 22,’ he commented. ‘To be Lucky Jim you have to want to not be Lucky Jim.’
“Since then, reports of things he’s done have further convinced me that he’s legitimate. He was able to find a young girl who’d been kidnapped and was several kilometers from where the local police thought she was. Less than an hour after arriving in Nicaragua, he led the platoon he was with unerringly to a village being raided by rebel troops. He found the tunnels the rebels used to evade U.S. forces that same afternoon. There have been numerous other reports of his activities, and everything points to him as being Lucky Jim,” she said.
“Thank you, Dorothy. Now, I’d like to hear from two people who have recently worked closely with Jim. Commander Ferguson, it was your troops working side by side with Jim in Nicaragua.”
Standing in the balcony, he spoke into a microphone, “My experience with Jim began with the Nicaraguan invasion he stopped. We had finally been ordered into action and parachuted onto the beach. Jim knew that we were on the way down well before we were visible. He was on his com unit with Major General Conklin who warned him that we were in the air and not to shoot at us. Jim’s answer was that he already knew that we were there and knew we weren’t a danger to him.
“When we landed, we were met by the adults who had arrived to detain the Nicaraguan captives. Rather than try to insinuate himself into our discussion, looking for glory, Jim was in knee-deep water helping one of our troops gather his parachute. He hung back and only joined our discussion when his father called him over.
“Just the fact that his father had enough faith in Jim to let him face the Nicaraguan submarines alone tells me as much or more than anything else. In case anyone thinks that his father was afraid to face the Nicaraguans, let me explain that his father is probably the most decorated, and highly regarded Marine Raider ever.
“That night, Jim’s father told me about the extensive training that Jim had undergone, as well as how he was able to detect the threat from the Nicaraguan subs when they were thousands of kilometers away because he was Lucky Jim. He told us how Jim fought against accepting the title of Lucky Jim until it was practically impossible to deny any longer. Using the ability that comes with being Lucky Jim, he was able to track the subs on their trip north. That ability let Jim and his father involve the INN reporter who broke the story.
“In Nicaragua, he would detect things nobody else could, things even our surveillance satellites missed. He commed me and described a village they were headed to, as well as the fact that rebels were in the village even before he was close enough to see anything.
“The information he gave us was always 100% accurate, something commented on by one of my officers right after we captured the ships the Chinese had used to transport the submarines to Nicaragua’s east coast. I later discussed with him his share of the gold we captured. As a civilian contractor, half of what we captured was rightfully his. Instead, he insisted that we split it evenly amongst everyone saying, ‘We were in it together so we’ll split it evenly.’ He echoed the same sentiment about what we captured from the rebels, so he’s obviously not helping us just for the money.
“He insisted that all credit be given to the troops involved without mentioning him, hoping that he could continue to remain anonymous, so he’s obviously not doing it for the notoriety.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the real thing and despite his youth, I’d willingly follow him into any battle, regardless of the odds.”
“Thank you, Commander,” the President said when he stepped away from the microphone. “Next, I call on someone who was even closer to Jim during the action in Nicaragua, Ensign Cooper of SEAL team 17, Blue Squad, Fire Team 1.”
Cooper grinned at me as he stood and approached the microphone. “I’ll admit that I was skeptical when I heard that a sixteen-year-old was testing to deploy with our platoon as a civilian contractor. I was impressed when he posted the ninth fastest time ever on the primary obstacle course and the fastest time ever for someone’s first time. He went through four grueling obstacle courses, one after the other, setting an overall record I’m sure will never be matched.
“I watched him in action on what we call the fog run, an obstacle course with artificial fog so thick you can only see a meter or two in front of yourself. That course is filled with traps and obstacles you have to find and avoid. Everyone slows down so they don’t make a wrong turn or hit one of the traps or obstacles. Jim didn’t slow down a bit, deftly jumping over or otherwise avoiding every trap and obstacle in the course.
“Then he aced the minefield course, a course filled with fake mines and every sort of booby trap U.S. forces have ever encountered. I’ve never seen someone go through the course their first time without tripping several. Normally, there are forty mines or traps on the course. I learned later that the Commander increased it to seventy-five for Jim. They also told him there were only two hidden tunnels to find when there were three. Jim found the third tunnel and made it through the entire course as if he had personally set every mine and booby trap.
“Some of the mines had to be disarmed and other mines just had to be avoided. When I run the course, I have to stop and check each mine to determine if I can just avoid it or if I need to disable it. Jim only stopped for the mines he had to disable, knowing even before he reached them if he could simply avoid them. I know that I was astounded because the person next to me reached over and closed my mouth.
“I have no idea how he or any of the other Lucky Jims did it, but every day with him left me stunned by his abilities. I was asleep when he performed his last amazing feat, but I watched a vid of it. The day before, he had been out running early enough that he finished a ten-kilometer run before the rest of us were even awake. He was totally unconcerned about running alone in the night along a lightly used road through heavy jungle.
“He commented about noticing a jaguar that was out hunting that morning. Even though it was fairly close to the base, it headed the opposite way so he didn’t go after it. It was close enough the next morning that he felt danger from it and went out to hunt it. Alone, sometime after 0300 hours he stalked the big cat with only a bow and arrows. I wouldn’t have knowingly come within five klicks of the jaguar, even with a fully loaded automatic rifle and a fire team to back me up.
“I watched some of the vid later as he stalked along a path to intercept the big cat. I noted a few times that he veered from that path and asked why. He explained that he was avoiding venomous snakes that he had sensed. He finally crept to within fifteen meters of an apex predator in the nighttime jungle before taking it down with a single arrow.
“I’ve been in more jungles than I care to count and have seen firsthand how dangerous they can be. He had to be able to sense danger both to intercept the jaguar in a jungle thick enough and dark enough that he couldn’t possibly have seen it directly, and to avoid the other nasty surprises waiting out there.
“On every mission, everything he told me that he sensed was 100% correct, everything from the number of troops we’d face to what weapons they had and where the best location was to confront them. Like the Commander, I’m convinced that he’s the real deal and I’d willingly follow him into any battle against any odds. I’d rather face a thousand enemy troops with only Jim at my side than be one of a thousand troops facing just Jim,” he said, and then stepped back from the microphone.
“Thank you, Ensign, both for your service and for your words,” the President said.
“If there is anyone out there still unconvinced, all I can suggest is that you continue to watch the news. I have a feeling that young Jim’s exploits will appear frequently despite his best efforts to avoid the limelight.
Turning towards me, she continued speaking. “For stopping the attempted invasion by the Nicaraguan rebels as well as for your bravery and courage in Nicaragua, I am honored to present you with the Presidential Medal of Freedom,” she said and then removed the medal and ribbon from a flat box I hadn’t noticed before. While I blushed, I had to lean over so she could drape it around my neck. She fussed with it for a second, making sure it was centered when she finished, just the way one of my mothers would have done.
When she finished, she stepped back from the microphone and the President Pro Tem stepped forward grinning. I noted that he held a reddish wooden box about 24 cm square and eight cm high. My throat constricted and my eyes got watery when he opened the box.
Inside was a gold medal about twelve centimeters in diameter. “The Senate and House of Representatives wish to award you the Congressional Gold Medal for thwarting the attempted invasion by the Nicaraguan rebels. We don’t even want to think about the death and destruction that attack would have caused had it succeeded.” I noted that dozens of reporters had come forward to get closer vids and pictures as he held the medal out to me. I could only hope I was still smiling because I was numb all over right now.
The front of the medal looked just like the five bronze copies I have at home already. After I specifically asked for them as gifts, I received bronze copies of both medals awarded to Lucky Jim I as presents. The front of both showed the famous picture of him from Harper’s Weekly where he was on a rearing horse, his saber in hand, pointing forward as if he were leading a charge towards enemy troops. Beneath that were the words Lucky Jim. He received one for his many accomplishments during the Civil War and one for completing the transcontinental railroad.
The Civil War medal had one of the Harper’s Weekly’s artists renderings on the back that showed him leading a squad of troops through one of the towns they had raided in Mississippi. The back of the second medal had a depiction of a train with smoke billowing from the engine’s smokestack.
I also have bronze copies of the three medals awarded to the second Lucky Jim. The first has a rendering of Cuba on the reverse, the second had a rendering of Korea, and the third had a rendering of his infamous yacht Pickup Truck for his service to help end the Welfare Wars. The front of all three medals is identical to the ones issued to the first Lucky Jim.
My medal had the same relief of Lucky Jim I on the front. Someone must have been working nonstop to get the award approved as it requires a vote by 2/3 of both the House and the Senate, and then to get the reverse designed and approved. That doesn’t even include the time necessary to create the mold and to have the medal struck. The back of the medal showed me looking at one of the Chinese mini subs with my rifle secured over my shoulder.
After what seemed like three or four hours of standing there having pictures taken, the President finally concluded the ceremony, much to my relief. At least I thought so until I suddenly faced a throng of Senators and Representatives eager to shake my hand. “At least my family didn’t have to suffer through the last part,” I thought gratefully when I was finally allowed to leave, as I’d seen them led away quite a while earlier. I met them in the room we had started in and found Jim the Third in the room with them laughing about something.
Lurdes rushed over and hugged me excitedly. “I’m so proud,” she exclaimed in Spanish.
“She and Idania had ear buds so they could hear a translation,” Sally explained. With Lurdes still connected to me at the hip I made my way over to Jim.
“Thank you for your kind words,” I said emotionally.
“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” he replied as we shook hands.
“It still meant a lot to me,” I replied.
It was after 1400 hours before we finally got back to our hotel. I felt wrung out and wanted nothing more than to take a nap. “Feel up to going for a jog?” Don asked me.
“A jog?” I asked incredulously.
“You really need to go by the National Museum of Natural History to look at the mineral samples,” he reminded me. “It’s only two klicks from here and would be faster to jog there than try to take one of the cars.”
“I suppose so,” I groaned as I sat up. “That ceremony really drained me.”
“Trust me, you’ll feel much better after a short run,” he chuckled.
Grudgingly, I dressed in my fatigues and boots, although I was glad to be out of the suit. Don was dressed the same way. He’d already called Ed who was, surprisingly, still at the museum. It took us nearly as long to get downstairs and through the lobby as it did to make the short jog to the museum. Don was right, again. I did feel better after the brief exertion.
“How did you know that I’d feel better after a short jog?” I asked.
“I had to suffer through a few ceremonies, too; although nothing as long or as elaborate as the one today,” he chuckled.
Ed was waiting for us at the front door, along with someone in a white lab coat. The security guard at the door seemed a bit surprised to see the guy in the lab coat at the front door. “Jim, Don, this is Doctor Wilkers, head curator of the gem and mineral exhibit,” Ed introduced us.
“That was you today!” the security guard exclaimed, pointing at me.
“Guilty as charged,” I replied, wondering just how often this was going to happen from now on. As we headed for the gem and mineral exhibit, I was seriously considering some sort of disguise, or maybe coloring and straightening my hair when we finally got home. We spent nearly three hours going through the exhibit and I tentatively identified the unknown deposit in Nicaragua as tungsten. The dark gray deposit in Honduras was probably lead, and the whitish blue probably cadmium.
I also determined that various ores containing minerals of, say copper, all gave off the same aura unless they were mixed with other minerals which each gave off their own distinct aura. Chalcocite, cuprite, and azurite all had the same aura. Tetrahedrite gave off auras for copper, antimony, and arsenic, although different types of tetrahedrite gave off auras of iron, zinc, lead, or mercury, depending on which were present in the sample.
“Amazing,” Doctor Wilkers commented when we finally finished. Then he presented me with a carbon fiber case with the inside sectioned off into a hundred compartments. There was an example of a mineral in each of seventy sections, each with a neatly handwritten label. There were also twenty samples of gemstones worth mining, depending on the quantity and quality of the gems in the deposit. Both the minerals and gems were arranged in order of value. Those of questionable commercial value had a yellow background. As requested, there were no slots for diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, jade, gold, silver, platinum, or copper.
“Perfect,” I exclaimed excitedly. “How much do I owe you?” I asked, looking first at Ed and then at Dr. Wilkers. Both men waved me off, but I insisted. The box had almost cost more than the specimens did since most of the gem specimens were low grade and weren’t cut. Add the fact that they didn’t need to include a diamond, ruby, emerald, sapphire, or piece of jade and the potential price dropped significantly.
We were just finishing when an attractive, albeit slightly disheveled, woman rushed into the room. “Oh, good, you’re still here,” she panted excitedly. “I’m Giselle Gaudete, one of the museum’s artists. I made the cast for the bronze statue of the last Lucky Jim in the Smithsonian’s Lucky Jim display. When I heard that you were here, I hoped to catch you so I could do some sketches since I’m sure they’ll end up adding a third Lucky Jim section,” she explained with a delightful French accent, almost tripping over her own tongue as she quickly rattled off her explanation.
I looked at Don grinning and he was looking at me grinning. We both burst out laughing at the same moment.
Unfortunately, Giselle took our laughter the wrong way. “I’m sorry, I’m being a nuisance again,” she apologized, nearly in tears.
I started to explain why we laughed, but Don was next to her and took her in his arms, hugging her. “That’s not why we laughed, and you weren’t being a nuisance,” he said soothingly--and in French. She perked up when he spoke French.
“Aside from your delightful accent, you sounded exactly like one of my wives and Jim’s mothers when she’s in one of her creative moods. She talks two hundred kph because her mind is on what she’s getting ready to paint. We might not see her for two days when she gets like that. Someone has to take meals to her, or she’d forget to eat.”
“One of your wives?” she asked, her interest obviously piqued. Whether it was by Don, by the fact that he had multiple wives, or both, I wasn’t sure. The way she seemed to melt into his arms and mold herself against him, I was betting she was interested in Don.
“Yes, wives, plural,” Don replied. “Jim’s biological father was my brother. He died in Myanmar. I married Jim’s mother for my second wife when I got back from China. The two of them brought home five more war widows for me to marry. I also have three concubines I brought back from Myanmar and China, and have another war widow that I’ll be marrying soon. Jim brought her home,” he teased, grinning at me.
“What exactly do you need from Jim, poses, photos? I doubt that he’ll be available long enough to pose for a statue,” Don warned.
“I wouldn’t need him to pose for the statue. All I need is two or three hours to take photos and make some rough sketches. I also need to learn a little more about him so I can select an appropriate pose,” she explained.
“The best pose would be of him sitting on his grav sled,” Don chuckled. “I think he spends half his time on one.”
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