That Was the Catalyst

“Yes, something like that,” she replied.

“Come on. We’d better get back before they miss us, or you freeze to death,” said John.

“Yeah, good idea,” she said dreamily. “Maybe Rachel can let me borrow a jacket or something to stay warm in,” Marta replied, joining him in nervous chatter.

The walk back proved awkward. Neither of them knew what to make of the situation they had just gotten themselves into.

John put his arm around Marta as she continued to rub off the cold, and the nervousness.

“Please don’t,” Marta snapped suddenly.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just not ready to do this. Please understand,” Marta said laying her head on his shoulder for a second of reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I understand.” John’s voice told her he wasn’t sure about his feelings either.

They walked back in clumsy silence to the picnic tables where she’d left the magazines. Marta wondered if it was such a good idea to have eagerly applied the perfume. They sat on the table with their feet on the seats. Marta put her elbows on her knees and hid her face in her hands as she sorted through the confusion in her mind.

“Are you all right?” John asked unnerved by the silence.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, sitting up straight and patting his leg. “John, what am I going to do about you?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping I didn’t ruin anything back there. I mean, I’m glad you are here tonight, and I hoped we could play some games since it’s early yet. But you probably want to be alone now,” John said.

“No, I don’t want to be alone; I was planning on some time with you. I’m just mixed up, so believe me, I am looking for relief.” Marta assured him with a smile. “It’s not what happened back there that has me confused. That was the catalyst that started it, but it’s not you.”

Jeffrey W. Bennett, ISP is an author of non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

What Nuts

The moon was full and the sky cloudless. It was the kind of night where artificial lighting was useless. The only true darkness was cast in the shadows of the tall trees and the huge mountains. John thought it impressive. He sat crossed legged on a mat with Marta and Tucker. On the next mat sat Numah and her new husband. They watched with smiles as the warriors told their exaggerated stories of the hunt. The Cassowary proved to be a difficult catch as it wove in and out of the thick foliage of mangrove trees and lontar palms near the Baleam River. One of the quartet of hunters acted out wide-eyed bewilderment. The whole village erupted in laughter as he strutted about making bird like screaming noises. Two of the others in the group feigned throwing rocks and spears tipped with sharp hornbills. The death of the cassowary actor could’ve won an award as he pled with an unknown bird god before offering its life for the survival of his human brothers.

“Was that bird praying?” John asked.

“Yes, it is an honor for him to die for such a noble cause. See, a few of the villagers still practice animism, or the worship of animals. The high spirit, if gracious, will allow the killing of its own to show pleasure in mankind,” Marta whispered.

Tucker kept smiling over his shoulder at John, then leaned back to rest on him. John looked back to Marta, who in turn smiled with approval.

“I think he likes you,” said Marta

John didn’t say anything; he was too uncomfortable. He let the boy stay that way until the chief of Tarampura called for Marta. John saw her smile and extend her hand to the chief, then to him. Pulling himself up, he rose to stand beside her.

The chief addressed the village giving a formal welcome to John, while Marta translated. After the formal welcome, the musicians banged out a harmony on the python skin drums as several costumed dancers pranced in front of the village. Red and blue feathers of the blue-streaked lorry and the green jungle fowl decorated their bodies. The outfits shimmered with iridescent life, as light glanced off the multi-faceted wings of giant beetles.

John reluctantly ate from large wooden bowls passing by him. The cassowary looked and tasted like most fowl, but he especially liked the tender and juicy wild pig. He ate greedily from another bowl of large nutty pieces. “Hey Marta, can you pass those Brazil, Macadamia, or whatever those nuts are back this way?”

Remember, 100% of all royalties will be applied to Jeff's mission trip to Asia. Jeffrey W. Bennett, ISP is the owner of Red Bike Publishing. Jeff is an accomplished writer of non-fiction books, novels and periodicals. He also owns Red bike Publishing. Published books include: "Get Rich in a Niche-Insider's Guide to Self Publishing in a Specialized Industry" and "Commitment-A Novel". Jeff is an expert in security and has written many security books including: "Insider's Guide to Security Clearances" and "DoD Security Clearances and Contracts Guidebook". See Red Bike Publishing for print copies of: Army Leadership The Ranger Handbook The Army Physical Readiness Manual Drill and Ceremonies The ITAR The NISPOM