This is home

CHAPTER 2

Daryl Stromburgh knew that this stranger had been caught off guard by her appearance, and it wasn’t anything new. Even as a teenager, men had somehow tried to hinder her interest in aviation. She reasoned that female aviation pioneers had been struggling in that battle since before Amelia Earhart and that gave her a tough defensive edge.

In spite of her toughness, her matchless beauty was highlighted by shoulder length red hair emphasized by the rising sun. She cut an imposing figure with hands on hips, but the intimidation softened as she walked toward him.

“John, meet Daryl Stromburgh. Daryl, this is John Braddham,” Ted introduced.

“From the surprised look on your face, I can see you weren’t expecting a woman pilot. If it’s all the same to you, I can out-fly anyone anywhere in this hemisphere or even the world for that matter,” she said with fingers pointed, stressing each syllable, her whole arm taking on the appearance of a pecking chicken. “So don’t try any remarks about women drivers, especially around me. Just a warning before you say anything.”

“I guess I did look incredulous,” John said. He didn’t like lectures, especially when not deserved. “You are correct. I was expecting a man...”

“Typical,” Daryl responded.

“Not so.” John held up his hand, wanting to finish. “I was fooled by your name, and Ted didn’t bother to correct my thinking.”

They both shot a glance in the direction of the grinning director.

“You gotta watch his mischievous side; other than that, he’s not so bad,” Daryl slowly let her guard down.

“Well, as I was saying, the name fooled me. Now, since you prejudged me, allow me to enlighten you about where I’m coming from. I served a few years as a military pilot and most of them in Vietnam. I am proud to have flown with some of the best aviators in our nation, and yes, some were women.” John was still a little steamed under the collar. “So don’t start expecting special treatment, especially from me. Just a warning before you say anything.”

He understands. Not too many left like him. Daryl thought. “Touché, John, and I’m sorry for attacking you like that. It wasn’t fair to punish you for the faults of others, but you seemed to take it well.”

“Now that you two are civil, I think it is safe enough for you to travel together. I wouldn’t let you fly over rivers and through valleys with chips on your shoulders.” Matt spoke with relief.

“The plane is now loaded and fueled, Ms. Stromburgh,” said the young man who had awakened John.

“Good luck, John, and make sure you take care of this guy, Daryl. I don’t want him scared off.”

“As John and Daryl left, John saw the community around the airstrip alive with activity. He watched teachers and children walk to a simple school house. The children wore combinations of traditional and western clothing of handed down or donated t-shirts adorned with pictures and logos. He could tell by their content faces that they had no idea of how utterly strange the mixture of cultures looked.

“May I carry your bags, sir?” the ghost from earlier asked.

“I can handle them,” John replied.

“Go ahead, let him. That’s what he’s paid to do,” Daryl said.

John shot her a glance. “All right, take ‘em already.”

The young man bolted ahead and loaded the baggage.

“You’ve got to be friendlier, that’s what these people know, and that’s what they expect from missionaries.” Daryl was appalled.

“Whatever,” John huffed. “How long is the flight to Tiom?”

“Roughly five hours not including refueling stops. It goes pretty fast though.” Daryl tried to sound optimistic.

“After a quick pre-flight inspection, they were airborne and flying northwesterly. Daryl took advantage of the long flight to fill John in on the operation in the area where he would work.

Daryl and John discovered they had a lot in common. The twenty-eight-year-old pilot was also raised in John’s home state of Texas, but she came from the eastern part of the state bordering Louisiana. And like John, she was very enthusiastic about aviation. What they had in common ended there. She loved the missionary work with its bush flying. For John, missionary aviation was only a stepping stone to bigger opportunities.

“It’s nothing to go from swampy, to mountainous to flat terrain in one flight. You’ll do flying like most people never experience. Hopefully you don’t get airsick too easily, but be merciful if your passengers do. It’s nothing to have to clean up a few sickness-related accidents every flight or so. We are the lifeline, the only access to the outside world the missionaries will have. I usually try to bring magazines or simple games, anything that I can to remind these dedicated people that they aren’t forgotten.”

“Does anyone ever just ‘hang it up’ and go back home?” John asked.

“Surprisingly, many pilots have returned home early. We’ve had a huge turnover because of the war. Some who have lost brothers, fathers, or other families had to help with hardships at home. The rest are another story. Perhaps it is because they came out here expecting something else, or they weren’t committed to the Lord’s work or the hardships involved. It’s not the kind of place you want to be if you’re not dedicated and prepared for what’s ahead,” Daryl warned.

John didn’t say anything, pondering her words carefully. “I don’t know,” he wondered out loud. “What brought you here?”

“Tough question. I guess I felt I was meant to do this. It just feels right, you know?”

As they flew, the terrain began to rise and Daryl flew through well-rehearsed mountain passages. She explained the importance of knowing where they were and stressed that the passages were the only way to access some of the remote mountain villages. Finally, Daryl pointed to a spot on the horizon where two rivers nearly came together.

“Heading west is the Baliem, and southerly is the Tariku. Both are major rivers into the area. It’s not unusual for a lot of missionaries to travel by river to places where we pilots can’t land. The town in the middle…” she pointed, “…is home–Tiom.”

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Chapter 1-An excerpt from Commitment a Novel

Papua, New Guinea, looked serene from 12,000 feet above sea level. Even from thirty miles away, John could make out the rain forests beyond the strand of the southern shore. Light wisps of steam hung over the island, revealing the high humidity common to this area of the world. The changing waters of the Arafura Sea and the Gulf of Carpentaria graduated beautifully from light green at the tip of Cape York Peninsula, Australia, to a beautiful azure and back to light green in the billowing waves on the shores of New Guinea.

So this is home. John pressed his forehead against the cool cabin window. The island in view was roughly the size of Greenland with the tall Puncak Jaya, rising 5,030 meters above the ground. Neighboring peaks perched above the haze like pyramids.

Instinctively, he reached for his flight bag as he had done five times throughout the flight. He unzipped it and sighed with relief at the two familiar slim books. Approvingly, he nodded as he flipped through page after page of his first flight log, recalling his hundreds of hours of experience behind the controls of planes and helicopters. He tucked it back into his bag then pulled out the second book. The pages he flipped through were blank reminders of experiences yet to come. Just a thousand more hours, that should do it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the pilot’s soothing expressions of intent to land. The southern coast filled the windows on the left side of the plane. He could almost make out the waves cresting to shore as the plane rolled out of a right bank. John squinted to see the airport runway stretching before him like welcoming arms.

Find out what happens next in the exciting novel Commitment:

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

I'm Going to the Airlines-An Excerpt from Commitment-a Novel

CHAPTER 5

 

Commitment-A Novel

     “This is probably one of the toughest landing areas you will eventually take over from me,” said Steve.
     “Who lives here?” asked John. Their landing earned only a few glimpses and a wave from the villagers up the hill. John wasn’t sure, but he thought the half-naked males wore gourds to cover themselves.
     “A branch of the Yali tribe. They inhabit most of the Balium Valley. We won’t stay though. The missionary that served here had to leave for personal reasons. I don’t know when he will be replaced.”
     “Daryl told me that a lot of people end up leaving,” said John. He watched as Steve took the controls and pointed the plane downhill.
    “Try taking off this way,” said Steve. “We do have some leaving. The Lawrences were as dedicated as any, but he had to take care of his family. There are a lot of hardships to being a missionary, but it’s tougher when your children don’t adjust,” said Steve.
     John could feel his stomach drop as the plane lurched skyward.        
      “Dedication to job verses dedication to the family,” he said.
      “It’s going to be just as tough for you,” said Steve. “You’ll get homesick and lonely. Dedication takes on many forms and has many obstacles. I’m sure you are feeling some pangs.”
     “Yeah, I guess I am. I’m not sure I will make it as long as most pilots do,” said John.
     “Oh, in what way?” asked Steve.
     John suddenly felt nervous. “I mean, I have no problem being here but I see myself flying airliners. That’s my future,” said John uncomfortably.
     Steve seemed unfazed.
     “You don’t see that as a problem?” asked John.
     “Somewhat, but I think the Lord has you here for some reason. We’ll just have to work with you while we have you,” said Steve.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Beautiful Tarampura

     Time never stood still in the small village of Tarampura, one in a chain along the Great Baliem Valley. This was the home the ornamental Dani. Marta Springer knew her link of the chain all too well. Two years ago next month, she reminded herself, shivering at the repulsive thought. She shook her head trying to escape sadness as she set out to inspect the airfield. I want to make sure it is neat for the new guy. Viewing the landing strip so critically brought back painful memories.

“This is the best way to remember Raymond,” she had said two years before, upon return after burying her late husband. “He had always spoken of making a runway near the village. You know how slow the boats are.” She reminded Jason of the 25 miles from Tiom, forever by boat but only a few minutes by air.

Within weeks some of the pilots had traveled by boat, surveyed the area, and found a place that would be suitable for a runway. They had hired some men from the village who worked with stone axes to clear an outline of what would be a 25 foot by 1700 foot airstrip.

“I’d always wanted to land in your village. You have no idea how beautiful it looks nestled between the mountain and the Baliem River,” Steve had said as he and his crew spent the night.

“How long do you think it will take? I mean, I can’t believe this is all happening. I wish Raymond could be here to see his dream.” Marta had said.

“Raymond would be proud. Proud of the strip, and proud of your hard work. We should be done in about six months provided the weather holds out and the workers keep their interest,” Steve had said.

“I don’t think the Dani will be a hard sell for the idea of a landing strip. I think they’ll be eager to build a place where the aloof motorized birds could roost.” Marta had said of the comments Steve had made. They’d seen planes fly overhead, but had never touched nor seen one up close.

“Just look around. Men wearing nothing but gourds, taming the jungle growth with stone axes. It’s a sight for any anthropologist,” Marta had said.

“The influence of modern technology is leaving its mark. Pretty soon, they won’t remember what life without an air strip was like,” Steve had said.

Within weeks they had burned away much of the clearing. This method assisted in the hunt for scarce meat and was often used in defense as warring tribes were flushed out of any cover by an all consuming fire. When the burning and stone axes proved futile, there were always the chain saws from Tiom. The villagers loved the loud noise and display of raw power as a fueled chain whirled around chewing up any resistance. Men toiling to move mounds of dirt had the most tedious and back breaking of work. Human earth movers burdened under the weight of the soil, had traversed in monotonous patterns as they had smoothed the landing strip as much as possible.

Finally, one month ahead of schedule, the runway was complete. Marta and the excited villagers had watched as Steve’s Cessna 182 spiraled into the valley. Some of them became jumpy as the engine suddenly went quiet about a mile from the runway. “A young boy named Tucker thought it would crash, but Marta had only smiled. She knew it was part of the procedures to bleed of speed and slow the airplane enough to land.

Marta had seen Steve smiling from ear to ear as he climbed out of his aircraft. In mass, the whole village had moved down to see him, surrounding the man from the sky and touching his blue and white bird. They wondered what kind of magic made this machine soar so high. Some had tried to find out as they anticipated the chance to experience flight; they would become legendary.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

We Can Get Along Without You-An Excerpt

Over the next few days Marta struggled with her feelings. She knew she wanted John for her own, but she also suspected he wasn’t the type to settle down. Oh sure they could be together, but it would be on his terms. They would live in a large city where she would be his pretty little wife and he a world traveling airline pilot. Sure, they would still serve God, but maybe as members of a large congregation, not in the capacity they now served as missionaries half a world away.

That is how she imagined her life with him. The more she thought about life without him, the bleaker that seemed. She would live with her decision forever and she would be happy here. Only the more she thought about John, the more desperate she felt knowing that the only other man she could ever love, would ever love, would probably be devoted to somebody else.

Numah approached around dinner time, as Marta carried water from a creek. Numah grabbed one of the water bags. “Will you be boiling this water or using the medicine?”

“The water may be a little dirtier, so I think I will use some of the iodine pills the nurse gave me,” Marta said.

“It is strange to think you cannot drink our water. Something we have always required for life, you cannot live with.”

“Yes, it is strange. It reminds me of a saying we have in America. ‘Don’t drink the water.’ We tell that to everyone who travels to foreign countries,” said Marta.

“Over the years I have seen you work very hard and struggle with many enemies inside of you, just to be our friend, and to teach us what you do. But lately, I have seen you struggle with something very strong, an enemy that may indeed be your friend,” said Numah.

Marta crouched mentally, every synapse, nerve, and muscle fiber poised, preparing herself for what was coming from her observant friend.

“I pray to God since you and Raymond showed Him to me that day three years ago. Since his death, I have been praying for the man who will make you his own and continue the work here,” said Numah.

“I am not lonely,” Marta protested. “I am here for one thing, and that is for all of you.”

“Do not assume we will fall apart without you. There are others who are willing to ‘toil in the fields,’ as you say. But I do not think you will leave us if you are with this man,” said Numah.

Jeffrey W. Bennett is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

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I could have died of hunger-An excerpt from Commitment-A Novel

John followed the voices and the spicy scent of food to the dining area where half of Tiom gathered.

“You made it,” Daryl called.

John turned briskly toward the familiar voice.

“Come on over and meet some people, if you haven’t already,” Daryl said.

John rolled his eyes and headed toward her. “If it weren’t for Steve, I may not have made it this far. I probably would have been starving in my bed, dying for a midnight snack.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention,” Jason spoke up from atop one of the chairs, not really needing the extra height. “Hello,” he continued tapping a serving spoon on a glass.

Eventually, all attention was focused on him.

“I would like to take this time to officially welcome the newest member of our roost. He flew all the way from Texas, and boy, are his arms tired,” Jason offered the familiar joke receiving only sporadic snickers.

“Okay, I see that went over your heads. “Anyway, I’m sure that you have many questions for him, but, please, for John’s sake, give him some breathing room. He will be here long enough to update everyone on life at home.”

“Here, here,” John said.

Someone in the background laughed out loud.

“Anyway, let’s make him feel welcome. So, without further ado, let’s eat some of this wonderful food. Doug, would you please lead us with a word of thanks?”

John decided immediately he liked everyone. It was hard to really talk to Jason as he couldn’t get past a greeting. He decided it must be all the fuss of the evening and dismissed it.

Later, burned out and grateful to be under covers, he lay his head down on the first pillow he had seen in a few days and fell into a deep sleep.

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

What real commitment looks like; lessons from life and fiction

     In Commitment, Marta has lost her husband, but not her desire to serve the Lord in Indonesia. In spite of tremendous hardships, she has trusted God and relied on the love of the people she serves. Life doesn’t get easier for her because she became obedient to her calling. It becomes more rewarding as she realizes she is making a difference.

     This level of devotion reminds me of the many friends who serve the Lord in other countries. They have decided to faithfully minister full time and teach others what they themselves know about God. They are committed to living a life honoring God as they try to introduce Jesus to many who have no idea. It sounds easy, but such commitments are tough and stress a person’s dedication, focus and desire. Continuous prayer, bible study, support of friends and family and a deep faith helps them overcome the toughest of obstacles. 

     To put things in perspective, I reflect on a recent disaster that affected much of my state, Alabama. A few months ago, a tornado swept through killing many. It’s impact also destroyed homes and knocked out our community’s electricity for a week. We had no lights, hot water, air conditioning, gas, food or television. We were otherwise unscathed and therefore had many options to escape the inconveniences. One such plan included heading to stay with family in the next state. However, we made the choice to stay and join our church in helping neighbors and community recover.

     Since we had no direct impact, our days were spent volunteering with tornado recovery, trying to keep frozen food from spoiling, cooking food that we could rescue, gathering with neighbors and sharing food until it got too dark. We went to bed as shadows blanketed our homes and woke up with the sun creeping into our   windows. After a week, we were well into the rhythm of survival when the power was suddenly restored.   That week of inconvenience turned into a wonderful time to get closer to our families, friends and gather closer as a community. But this was a onetime experience, one that we quickly recovered from.

     In contrast, I'm reminded of friends in foreign places. Some locations are remote and electricity only runs for part of the day. Intermittent electricity is the norm, transportation is unreliable, language translation is fallible and customs are strange. Dinner may take several hours as meat has to be bought, water has to be sanitized, vegetables have to be cooked and ingredients have to be gathered that day. Businesses, stores, government services and doctor’s offices may not be available every day.  

     If family members get ill, there is no immediate visit to a doctor’s office. If foreign government services are needed, it may take days or weeks of waiting in a faraway city. As missionaries they have choices. They can return to the comfort of living in the US or they can remain where they are. My suspicion is that they have a strong pull to serve God right where they are. This desire far outweighs the convenience that they could be experiencing. Like Marta, they are right where they should be, enjoying the impact they are making.

"You mean like this?"

“The assistant and I held Digul down, and Dr. Reese set his leg. It took two tries to get it right. The poor boy was in so much pain. And when that leg popped in place, I thought I would lose it right there.” Marta squeezed his arm, trying to push back the memory.

“That is awful. But guess what? He’ll be better, and pretty soon, nobody will remember the painful parts.” He took Marta’s hand and gently patted it.

“Thanks, that is something I will not soon forget,” Marta replied.

“Maybe tonight, for a little while at least, we can help put it behind you. This is your night to relax and enjoy some long needed talk and fun,” John said.

“Sounds great. Let’s start off with a walk. I need to stretch a bit before dinner. I’m pretty tense.”

They walked around the village in silence for a while. Stars appeared in the eastern sky as darkness enveloped the earth like a heavy curtain being drawn across a window. With the night came the chill. Marta crossed her arms to retain warmth, and rubbed her hands over each arm slowly and rhythmically. As they walked, slower now, Marta kept her eyes on the ground, afraid of tripping. She sneaked glimpses at John from the corners of her eyes and appreciated his strong features. His jaw clenched and working as if in deep thought, giving him a rugged appeal.

“Who was the other guy?” John suddenly asked.

“Who?”

“You know, the one with the doctor.”

“Oh, his name is Benji. His parents are missionaries up north, and he is assisting Dr. Reese until he goes to medical school. He’s kind of worried about going back to the States, though. It’s going to be a new experience for him,” said Marta.

“I guess the prospect of meeting different people can be scary,” John said.

“The funny thing is his concern over girls, and how to meet them,” said Marta.

“He seemed to do okay with you,” John said hesitantly.

So, he did notice, Marta thought. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I just meant, he seemed to admire you, you know... notice you.”

She looked down to hide her smile, flattered by his concern. “Well, I think he wanted some advice – you know, a woman’s view.”

“Oh, did you give him any?” John asked.

“Just that the best way to show a woman you are interested in her is to be yourself, be courteous, and maybe hint in some way.”

“You mean flirting?” John asked.

They stopped walking and stared across the river not remembering how they had arrived. John turned to Marta. Her hair played about her face, and she let go of her self-embrace to pull back a few tickling wisps. The way she looked at him made him nervous as she saw a new confidence in him. He seemed determined to capture her gaze.

“Do you mean like this?” he asked.

Marta felt his touch then followed his gentle pull toward him. She was caught off guard, but her eyes widened in anticipation and she didn’t resist. She felt herself falling into John’s gaze as she followed his lead with tiny steps. Still facing him, she closed her eyes in expectation as they moved closer to one another until their lips met.

Reluctantly, Marta pulled herself away, but stayed in his embrace. She looked up at him and reveled in the silence. Somewhere frogs croaked their love songs, but neither of them seemed to notice.

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

The Bug Tree

“Let’s help them,” Tucker said, grabbing John’s hand and pulling him toward the commotion in the forest.

The village surroundings had been busy with the sound of leaves crunching, vines cracking, and rhythmic chants for the past 30 minutes. Tucker led laughing gleefully as they went to investigate. Finally they found twenty men pulling on thick vines as they advanced the progress of a huge sago palm toward the village.

“It is big, John. It will bring us lots of food. The kind you eat a lot of last time,” said Tucker.

“I don’t remember eating food from a tree. What do you mean?” John asked as he stepped in behind one of the men.

Both John and Tucker were now struggling with the cumbersome tree. They made slow progress as the tree scraped across the jungle floor inch by inch. Awkward at first, John soon fell in with the rhythm of the cadence and found the load easier to bear.

“We will bring the tree close to the village and pull it apart. It will die and soon the big bug will come and lay egg,” said Tucker.

“What kind of bug?” John already dreaded the answer.

“The bug that is big and we use wings for our decorations,” said Tucker.

“It sounds like a scarab beetle. What do you do with the eggs?” asked John.

“They grow the worm,” replied Tucker.

“Not the grubs! You mean I’m hauling a grub tree!” said John.

“You like them, yes?”

“I like them, no,” John replied.

“The man who ate all the worms says he doesn’t like them,” Tucker translated tauntingly for the benefit of the others.

“Why are they laughing?” asked John.

The men continued to cackle as they remembered that famous night.

Startled, birds fluttered away, and small monkeys shrieked in protest from treetop perches as the laughter permeated the jungle.

“Have your laugh, but remember the saying of Americans. ‘You are what you eat,’ bug man.”

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Marta asked as she and Sandy caught up to the cacophony.

“Just a little lesson about how this tree is host to beetle larvae,” John replied.

“Oh, the beetles. Those beetles.” Marta tried but she couldn’t suppress the grin that fought its way over the other muscles around her small but full-lipped mouth.

“Oh, you think this is funny too?” John said, poking her gently in the ribs.

Marta fought to push his hands away. “Stop! That tickles,” she pleaded. Her knees buckled under the sheer exuberance.

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

We've done all we can

“We’ve done all we can. We’ll let the medicine and God do the rest. Why don’t we catch our breaths now?” said Marta.

“I could use a breather.” John followed Marta to a cool spot in the shade of her hut. Business as usual, he thought as he watched a couple dig up sweet potatoes. “Steve is probably wondering what the blur was going through the middle of Tiom.” John laughed reflectively.

“Waiting for you was painful,” said Marta.

“I haven’t stopped rushing until just now. I radioed for the medicine, and Steve had it waiting. He handed it through my window right there on the runway. Next thing I knew I was flying back,” said John.

“I think my heart has stopped pounding. You may just be a hero. Who knows what would have happened had you not been here.”

“I’m sure everything would have been fine.” John looked at her approvingly.

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’m glad you were here. I think you were right the first time,” said Marta.

“When?” asked John.

“When you came today. I think you were right about people happy to see you,” said Marta.

Her piercing eyes studied John’s, leaving him uneasy. He tried to hold her gaze, but shifted out of nervousness. Did she just look at me differently?

“If he survives the night, he should make it,” said Marta.

They talked until late in the afternoon, sharing stories of their beginnings, and similarities living in jungle climates. Marta laughed a lot, John noticed. Their conversation flowed easily, having much to say. Reluctantly John looked at his watch, then to the lengthening shadows of the Moake mountains.

“I’ve got to go. Do you want to check on your patient in case he needs anything?” John asked.

“I don’t think there is anything else he needs,” Marta shrugged.

“Rachel put in extra anti-venom, just in case you can’t find yours. Anything else you might need?”

“Maybe a new battery for my radio,” said Marta.

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

Snake Bite

The days seemed to melt into each other as John learned the intricacies of his new plane. He enjoyed the privilege of flying the only yellow airplane in the nation; the main reason he named her Buttercup. Even people deep in the forest who had no affiliation with missionaries felt a sense of ownership when they saw the plane fly over.

“I’ve come to know the sound of your plane,” Marta said.

“That’s what the Johnsons said at my last stop. It’s really nice to be wanted.” John beamed.

“Are you so sure it’s you everyone wants to see?” Marta teased.

“All right, so everyone wants to know what I have in my cargo bin. I feel like Santa Claus year round.”

“I guess it’s good to see you too. I need to use my English now and again so I don’t forget,” said Marta.

“That’s so nice of you to say so.”

John enjoyed the game they often played with each other. The lines around her eyes when she smiled told him of the joy he had brought to her. It was such an easy smile, and he didn’t have to try hard to give it to her.

“I’m just kidding, I hope you know that,” Marta said.

John nodded, still smiling. He noticed Marta staring into the distance as if interrupted by a thought. “Anything wrong?”

“No, I’m just…sometimes I’m just homesick.”

“And you miss your husband?” John immediately regretted being so abrupt.

Marta nodded quickly in agreement.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She blinked tears away. “This scenery just reminds me of his death, the pain, and the reality of hoping I can continue.” Marta walked around the yellow plane, feeling the rounded edges of the high mounted wings and stepping over the large tires. “At the same time, these people are my friends. I have translated some of the Bible for them and taught them English, and God has changed a lot of lives.”

“I agree,” John said.

“I know this is the place for me, but it’s hard when I get homesick. I do love it when you come to visit.”

John was happy to see her smile, though a little apprehensive. I hope she doesn’t expect me to stay forever.

Tucker suddenly ran up, panting under the sudden exertion. John put his hand on the breathless boy’s shoulder. Tucker’s eyes darted wildly as he tried to regain composure.

John looked at Marta for reassurance, but she shook her head, offering no clue.

“What’s up, Tucker?” Marta asked.

Tucker still couldn’t reply. John sat the shocked young boy down and helped him put his head between his knees. Soon, his breathing deepened and slowed.

“You will help?” Tucker suddenly exploded to his feet spouting something only Marta could understand.

“Let’s follow him. Someone was bitten by a snake,” Marta said over her shoulder.

“All three were out of breath by the time they reached the other side of the village. Rising smoke from smoldering cooking pits did little to help them breathe, and scurrying piglets tripped them up as they became tangled under foot. They continued trotting a hundred yards down a well worn jungle path to a crowd gathered around Mewpa, the medicine man.

John saw that they were restless and Marta had a pained expression on her face. She rested her chin in her hand as she looked from Mewpa to a man clutching his right forearm.

“It’s a good sign if he is bleeding,” said John. “If he’s lucky, the venom will bleed out. It must’ve been a big snake.” A bloody knife on the ground proved his assumption wrong.

“It may not be well for him,” said Marta.

“It looks like they have him wrapped up nicely. The medicine man probably has it all figured out,” said John.

“There’s not much he can do to treat it, except wait it out. If we are lucky, the poison drained out. If not, it could be a long night. We lost someone last year to a snake bite,” said Marta.

The stricken man yelled in protest as Mewpa tried to get him to his feet. John felt sorry for the man, yet alert to the jungle’s hidden dangers. A woman rushed to the man’s aid and helped walk him toward their dwelling.

A few feet later, the man fell hard as his muscles seized. His body lay shaking but rigid and sweat dripped from his pores. Even above the shouts of frustration and sadness, John could hear the man’s teeth grinding powerfully together.

“I’ll be back.” John heard Marta yell before running back to the village.

He didn’t respond, but jerked his sleeve from his shirt in one adrenaline powered pull. A button flew from his cuff as he ripped it from his wrist. He forced the man’s mouth open before balling the material and jamming it between his teeth. They waited.

Wave after wave of spasms jerked the man’s body. John and the medicine man held him down. Up close, John smelled their sour body odor.

The wait was long as John had nothing to say, nor any way to say it. He had never been alone with the Tarampurans, and he doubted conversation was possible. “Anyone know where Marta went?” he asked in quiet desperation.

“She went to hut,” someone replied, surprising him.

“I can’t find it. I can’t find it.” Marta fell by John a moment later.

“Find what?” asked John.

“My antidote. I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Call Tiom, maybe they can fly some out.”

“I tried. No one is answering,” said Marta.

“I’ll go,” John heard himself say before running toward the plane. He outran Tucker, who trailed after him.

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

How Did You Find Marta?

Once again, Rachel, you’ve outdone yourself,” John said a week later.

“It was a delicious dinner, sweetheart. My compliments,” Steve said.

“Thanks guys, does that mean you’ll clean up?” Rachel asked.

“After a dinner like that, you can have anything you want.” Steve winked.

“I just wish I had more time to cook like this. The airstrip keeps me busy,” said Rachel.

“I would rather hear your lovely voice over the radio. It is much more welcoming than Jason’s,” Steve said.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence and the understanding. I like helping out there and with anything you fly boys might need. But, John, you might want to knock off the wisecracks about Jason, especially since he and Sandy are going to be here any minute,” Rachel warned.

John took the warning well. He felt Rachel and Steve could ask him anything and he would do it. With their growing friendship, he felt comfortable in their home, and he didn’t want to offend. He looked around the old building the Millicans called home. Rachel had decorated very attentively. The cinder block house matched his dorm room as simple wood and wicker design. Wonderful crafts and stencils adorned the walls. Bible verses and country scenes were embroidered in cross stitch and mounted in picture frames, while photos from home occupied other spaces.

John had been touched beyond words when Steve presented him with a nice cross stitch of a plane flying through clouds and the caption “...they shall mount up with wings as eagles. Isaiah 40:31.” Rachel had made it for two reasons. The first, upon John rescuing her man and himself when the plane went down, and the second when he was assigned to his route.

“So, are you telling me that your culinary experience was better tonight, than it was... say... the other day in Marta’s village?” Rachel asked.

“Oh, I see how you are,” John glanced playfully from the corner of his eyes. “Steve must’ve had a good laugh telling the story so you both could gang up on me. But that’s all right, see if I tell you anything again,” John said, punching his cowering buddy in the arm.

“Did you or did you not enjoy the eye of newt or boiled goat’s bladder?” Rachel teased.

“Well, it wasn’t that bad, honey,” Steve interjected. “Just a few bugs and spiders is all I heard.”

“You two are way off base; it was just a few harmless grubs.” John could hardly get the word grubs out.

“How did you find Marta?” Rachel asked.

“Did you have to ask that?” Steve interrupted.

“Tell us. You’re amongst friends. I mean, an enchanting woman living amongst primitive people, good looking, independent, and single. Probably not a bad gamble to bet you may have been the teeniest bit impressed.”

“Yes, you can say that,” John admitted.

“Oh, we’re just teasing you. Marta is a great friend of ours. In fact, she is as much a part of our family as we consider you to be. She is a very intriguing person” Rachel said.

“If it’s all the same, I don’t want to talk about it. A relationship I mean,” said John.

“Yeah, right,” Steve replied. He and Rachel could tell by John’s reaction to the mere mention of Marta’s name that there was some unspoken chemistry at work.

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

Someone's Got a Hold on Me-An Excerpt from Commitment The Novel

     In her hut, Marta lay staring at the grass roof; it had been a fitful sleep. Bouts of fitful tossing were triggered by images of John. She wasn’t sure if he would fit in, or remain on Irian Jaya, but she hoped he would stay. She couldn’t believe her feelings for this man, and passed them off as curiosity. After all, he was fresh and full of conversation. But she had met men and women who came to visit as evangelical missionaries, preaching for a short time before moving on. Pilots, doctors and other medical persons came, as well as the Peace Corps and United Nations workers. None had the allure that John already had over her. He seemed to own some part of her, and she wasn’t ready to give it over. She had to get him out of her mind....her heart. No, she couldn’t admit he had her heart. She finally rolled from her bed for the short trek to the stream where she washed. On the way, she saw John and the old man. She saw him smile and trot toward her. He looked like he had also had little sleep, something she attributed to being in new surroundings. She wondered if he could tell she hadn’t slept either.

     “I just shared a strange sunrise with that man over there. He is the saddest, quietest person I have ever seen. What’s his story?” John asked.

     “He does that every morning without fail. He wakes and watches the jungle until the sun comes up. Several years ago, some of the villagers were kidnapped. He believes if he keeps up his vigil that his wife and son will return,” Marta replied.

     John looked back in time to see the sad man shuffle sadly away.

     Steve flew in an hour later to pick up John. John was glad to see him, and knew there were other missionaries to meet, and much more work to do. Steve declined a cup of coffee, opting to get back in the air.

     They made three stops before finally landing in Tiom, just a little before the sun set. John was tired, and he felt it as he climbed out of the plane. Even with all the stops, and all the people he continued to meet on the way, he could not forget his experience in Tarampura, nor his hostess Marta Springer.

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

Making a Clean Break-Excerpt from Commitment-A Novel

     The morning sun cast a brilliant golden canopy across the sky from the east. Off to the west, darkness graduating to blue toward the east. John awoke a few hours before the rest of the village. He sat facing the sun, remembering the evening, wondering if he would survive here. He was already homesick for his old life back in the States, feeling strange and distant. While he was collecting his thoughts, a stoic, older man, small in stature, took a seat near him. The man never said a word, just took a stance of vigilance.

     During the pre-dawn hours they shared the sounds of the awakening jungle, hardly recognizing each other’s presence with more than a nod. Insects buzzed, the tiny, black and white Thomas’ leaf monkey skittered through the trees, and birds chirped their good morning songs. This was like so many sounds and experiences he associated with Vietnam, and a reminder of his harrowing night only three weeks before.

     John felt homesick, but dismissed the thought of returning to the states. He had to stay at least a year or two. Then he would earn enough hours to apply at an airline. He would be flying regularly and that was good enough. However, something else, another reason to stay, grasped his attention. It had to be the lure of this enchanting woman who gave up her comfortable life to live in these austere conditions.

     He looked to his left to see his silent companion shift his weight without taking his eyes off the jungle. Turning back to his thoughts, John realized he shouldn’t fall for someone out here. He needed to know he could make a clean break when the time came.

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

Eating Roasted Grub Worms

“The nuts? There aren’t any nuts here,” she shouted over the din.

“There, that guy is taking them now, and that woman just finished roasting some more.” John pointed to one of the women who stirred the contents around in a hollowed out stone.

“Oh, you mean those nuts,” she said, smiling mischievously. “Sure I’ll pass them, but take another careful look. I think the firelight is not allowing you to see particularly well.”

He waited impatiently for the bowl as anther villager finished raking some into his lap. Finally he had the bowl and began stirring nuts with his fingers. He picked up two of the inch- long morsels and examined them more closely. With the flickering amber fire and pale moon- light the food looked at first glance like roasted nuts. It had a nice golden color, and was firm to the touch.

He brought it up for closer inspection and let out a yell of disgust. Looking lifelessly back at him was a small set of roasted grub worm eyes, John could at last see as the bean shaped pupa suddenly morphed into a fat, earth-boring worm.

“A worm! A fat, disgusting worm!” He jumped up, legs dancing uncontrollably. The bowl went flying, sending the grubs airborne in all directions. He had the shivers, and his teeth itched.

Marta laughed hysterically. It was cruel she realized, but he shouldn’t be acting this way. “Lighten up. They won’t hurt you.”

“I can’t believe Steve left me here like this, eating worms. What have I got myself into, just to fly planes?”

“Don’t be that way. We all went through this at first,” said Marta.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe I actually like those things. How could you let me eat them without telling me what they were?”

“Because I didn’t want you to starve to death,” said Marta.

The animal skin drums pounded out a rhythm for the dancers, but as the evening wore on, the drummer’s endurance gave out as heavy arms grew tired. Now all that remained was a gentle drumming that provided only a sense of percussion to keep time.

“I really think they like you. You have made some impression on them, in spite of the act you put on earlier,” said Marta.

“Well, that pleases me to no end,” John replied.

“I know you don’t understand them, but they are saying nice things about you, and to you.”

“I really hope so, because all I have been doing is sitting here smiling and nodding, and I don’t want to be agreeing to something that I know nothing about,” said John.

“You mean you don’t want to marry the chief’s daughter?”

“WHAT?” John yelped in disbelief, waking Tucker.

“Oh relax, I was just kidding.” Marta tossed her head back, flipping her hair.

John looked on admiringly.

“All they have been doing is saying hello and giving you a good welcome,” said Marta.

“You play too many tricks. One day, when you least expect it, there will be one waiting for you.”

“You can’t really threaten me with something fun. I need a few pranks to make things a little more exciting. We have fun here, but imagine trying to tell jokes or play gags on people when there is such a huge language barrier,” said Marta.

The fire began to burn out. No longer did anyone try to feed its remarkable appetite. As the flames ebbed, more people started heading for their huts.

“Well, I think it is time to turn in. I’ll take Tucker to his bed, and I will see you in the morning.”

“Where am I going to sleep?” John asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry; the chief has a place for you in his hut. Hold on, I’ll be back.” Marta walked away and spoke to the chief, who was happily eating leftover food. They spoke for a while before she returned.

“The chief has everything set up. As soon as he goes, he will let you know. Until then, have fun. I’m going to turn in.”

John watched her walk away from the fire. Her image grew faint as she left the light, until darkness consumed her. I wish you didn’t have to leave so soon.

Buy Commitment for your Kindle, Nook or computer....

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

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

I Can't Wait

     To the southwest, the mountain range covered the retreating sun, leaving behind a tell-tale eerie pink and blue. Still a few hours before sunset, the village was in the shadow of the mighty Maoke Mountains. As if cued by a legendary director, the entire village came suddenly to life with shouts of triumph and laughter, as they buzzed excitedly around the hunting party.

      “Wow, what got them on the warpath?” John asked.

      “Sounds like the hunting party is back. Come on, let’s see what they bagged,” Marta replied.

     John laughed at her choice of wording and took up a quick stride matching her. As they neared, John saw one of the party hopping around with the ugliest bird he had ever seen slung across his shoulders.

The bird had the longest legs, save for the ostriches he saw in zoos and on Wild Kingdom. Instead of feathers, it sported long fine hairs. Blue and red adorned its neck, reminding John of the bright colors of a baboon

     “THAT’S disgusting!” John exclaimed wide eyed.

     “THAT’S dinner,” Marta said.

     “I’m not eating it, if that’s what you think,” John replied.

“     I’m recalling our conversation about being courteous and non-offensive, is what I think.”

     “You are a tough one, Marta Springer.”

     “It’s not like you have to eat the whole thing. There’s probably only enough for a taste. I recommend you at least have the courtesy to try,” Marta said.

     “What is it?”

     “That is the Cassowary, they call it... hmm, I guess the best translation is ugly stilt bird,” Marta said.

     “I’d say. But look, I can relate to those wild piglets they are showing off,” said John.

     “You are in for a real treat fireside tonight-chockfull of adventurous hunting stories,” Marta said.

     “I can’t wait.”

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

Accepted into the Fold

John and Steve unloaded mail and a package of supplies. John noticed Marta immediately. Red hair cascading past her shoulders, cotton skirt, and khaki shirt seemed out of place. He could tell she had a unique and special relationship with the Dani people. They looked up at her and smiled, as if to share her joy when the plane arrived.

And she’s beautiful; the voice in his head told him.

He had to subdue that voice, because there was no chance for a relationship. But the voice still spoke to him, silently, seductively.

“This is going to be a hard battle,” he replied a little too loudly.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied. “Is that Marta Springer, by the way?”

“Sure is. Help me with the supplies, and I’ll introduce you.”

Marta ran up to help. “I was so worried about you when your plane went down. I’m so glad you made it out of there.”

“Besides replacing a window and recovering from a fever, I’d say everything worked out just fine,” said Steve.

“I take it this is John?” she asked.

“That’s right, John Braddham, pleased to meet you,” he said, taking her offered hand. Her grip was tight and sincere, yet her hands were soft.

He was amazed at her emotional and mental strength that helped her endure all the years under the extreme circumstances he had only for a short time experienced. He doubted his fortitude or whatever he might consider a driving force to keep him committed. The incident of the forced landing nearly sent him home packing. Even so, he decided to stay, blaming his resolve to be an airline pilot. I’m committed to something. But is it enough to keep me here?

“Marta, this guy is incredible! He can handle an airplane like a

P.O.W. veteran. In fact, he has already been accepted full-fledged into the program. We’re just getting him familiar with his route,” said Steve.

“Already?” Marta exaggerated her surprise. “Don’t you usually train pilots longer?”

“Between losing pilots and convincing Jason that John is ready, I’m able to accelerate the program,” said Steve.

“I guess you are familiar with Jason’s thoroughness,” said John.

“Yes, I am,” she nodded. “He’s firm but fair. I know he rubs some the wrong way, but he is a wonderful person and a great leader. He just takes time to warm up to, but when you do, he makes a faithful friend. I can rely on him for anything.”

“Well, that’s what I keep hearing,” said John.

“John saved the day,” Steve interjected. “That night was enough to leave an impression on even the toughest of heroes. I’m convinced we wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for him.”

“We were praying for you all night. As if the weather and landing weren’t dangerous enough, we heard you had to deal with the Yali. I’d love to hear what happened sometime,” Marta invited.

“You give me too much credit. But if you want to hear the scaled down version of the story...” John was about to finish when two strangers came into view.

Numah and a young man named Tucker walked up on either side of Marta. Numah tugged on Marta’s shirt.

“Oh, excuse me. John, I would like you to meet my good friends, Numah and Tucker,” said Marta.

John smiled at Marta’s two companions. The woman was small and dressed in a grass skirt and a dingy T-shirt with “Sunny” emblazoned in bold red letters. The twelve-year-old with her was a little shorter with tattered shorts and a dark, long sleeve shirt. Both were adorned with bone and leather jewelry. “I am glad to meet you both,” John said.

Numah giggled and wrapped her arms around John’s neck. The gesture caught John off guard and after a few steps of back peddling, he regained his balance. He stood a long second with his arms stretched wide before smiling and returning the hug. “You didn’t tell me they were so friendly.”

“We had the same cultural experience. It’s just something they don’t teach you in school,” Marta laughed.

More of the villagers approached and John almost bowled over in laughter. He guffawed audibly before Steve could suppress the rest of his reaction with a timely elbow jab to the ribs.

The circus of assorted characters crested the small hill and walked toward the amused newcomer. Most wore traditional dress consisting of grass skirt with no tops for the women and for the men, nothing, save the gourds of various shapes and sizes.

“John, please,” Steve begged.

“I’m sorry, but this is incredible. They are wearing squash. What does it all mean?” asked John.

“Nothing in particular. You’ll get used to it,” Marta said sternly. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you around.” Marta took the lead up the path to the village as Numah scampered up from behind.

“He right handsome man, Marta. You like?” Numah asked in her native tongue.

Marta tried to ignore her, continuing up the path in silence.

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

The Surprise

Within weeks they had burned away much of the clearing. This method assisted in the hunt for scarce meat and was often used in defense as warring tribes were flushed out of any cover by an all consuming fire. When the burning and stone axes proved futile, there were always the chain saws from Tiom. The villagers loved the loud noise and display of raw power as a fueled chain whirled around chewing up any resistance. Men toiling to move mounds of dirt had the most tedious and back breaking of work. Human earth movers burdened under the weight of the soil, had traversed in monotonous patterns as they had smoothed the landing strip as much as possible.

Finally, one month ahead of schedule, the runway was complete. Marta and the excited villagers had watched as Steve’s Cessna 182 spiraled into the valley. Some of them became jumpy as the engine suddenly went quiet about a mile from the runway. “A young boy named Tucker thought it would crash, but Marta had only smiled. She knew it was part of the procedures to bleed of speed and slow the airplane enough to land.

Marta had seen Steve smiling from ear to ear as he climbed out of his aircraft. In mass, the whole village had moved down to see him, surrounding the man from the sky and touching his blue and white bird. They wondered what kind of magic made this machine soar so high. Some had tried to find out as they anticipated the chance to experience flight; they would become legendary.

“You handled that new runway like the professional you are,” Marta had said.

“It was a pleasure. We worked hard, and it paid off. I’ll try out the takeoffs, as soon as I get some of the weight out.” Steve had pointed to his plane.

“You mean there is more?” Marta had marveled at the supplies Steve had already unloaded.

“Just come back to the plane with me and see,” Steve had said, smiling mischievously.

Together, Steve and Marta had walked back to the plane.

“Do you remember when I told you I had another project to take care of?” Steve’s eyes had hardly contained his excitement.

“Yes, I guess you got it all done. What did you need to do?”

“Only this.” Steve had reached in and with both hands had struggled with a heavy burden. He pulled half of a canvassed object out and asked one of the men to help remove the covering. “I don’t think an airfield should be without a dedication.”

Marta’s heart had stopped. Her sparkling eyes had blinked rapidly in an attempt to dam the welling tears. She had bitten her lip hard to stop her quivering chin, but all efforts had failed her. She had read the sign over and over again in those few seconds to capture each letter in her mind. Her tears had fallen, but her face had beamed with pride and approval.

“Oh, thank you, Steve, thank you. It is so wonderful.”

One of her closest friends, Numah, who had also lost a husband in the same battle as Raymond, had come to Marta’s aid. Numah did not understand the reason for the happy crying, but had known Marta needed a hug.

“It’s okay, Numah, this is a wonderful gift from our friends in Tiom,” Marta had said.

“I hope you like it, Marta. I took a collection up and had this made,” Steve had said.

“It’s truly beautiful. I know the perfect place for it.”

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

Making Plans

     Time never stood still in the small village of Tarampura, one in a chain along the Great Baliem Valley. This was the home the ornamental Dani. Marta Springer knew her link of the chain all too well. Two years ago next month, she reminded herself, shivering at the repulsive thought. She shook her head trying to escape sadness as she set out to inspect the airfield. I want to make sure it is neat for the new guy. Viewing the landing strip so critically brought back painful memories.

“This is the best way to remember Raymond,” she had said two years before, upon return after burying her late husband. “He had always spoken of making a runway near the village. You know how slow the boats are.” She reminded Jason of the 25 miles from Tiom, forever by boat but only a few minutes by air.

Within weeks some of the pilots had traveled by boat, surveyed the area, and found a place that would be suitable for a runway. They had hired some men from the village who worked with stone axes to clear an outline of what would be a 25 foot by 1700 foot airstrip.

“I’d always wanted to land in your village. You have no idea how beautiful it looks nestled between the mountain and the Baliem River,” Steve had said as he and his crew spent the night.

“How long do you think it will take? I mean, I can’t believe this is all happening. I wish Raymond could be here to see his dream.” Marta had said.

“Raymond would be proud. Proud of the strip, and proud of your hard work. We should be done in about six months provided the weather holds out and the workers keep their interest,” Steve had said.

“I don’t think the Dani will be a hard sell for the idea of a landing strip. I think they’ll be eager to build a place where the aloof motorized birds could roost.” Marta had said of the comments Steve had made. They’d seen planes fly overhead, but had never touched nor seen one up close.

“Just look around. Men wearing nothing but gourds, taming the jungle growth with stone axes. It’s a sight for any anthropologist,” Marta had said.

“The influence of modern technology is leaving its mark. Pretty soon, they won’t remember what life without an air strip was like,” Steve had said.

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