Arrows and Hatchets

     “Hmm?” Steve answered groggily. He wore a stupid smile.

It’s not over. I need you to take the controls so I can prop the plane. Those guys drained the battery.”

     “Ok, fly to get more batteries,” Steve said in his delirium.

     “No! no! no!” John yelled. “I have to hand prop the plane. Listen; just hold your feet on the brakes.”

     John climbed out and turned the propeller a couple of times and prepared for a starting kick. Then he saw a commotion in the jungle. Some of the natives were holding up the ponchos where he and Steve had been. So far they hadn’t seen him.

     “Please, God, let this start,” John prayed before throwing the propeller downward.

     It went around sputtering but not catching. The alerted natives looked and moved slowly toward the plane, taking cover as they advanced.

     “Great, an audience.”

     A hastily fired arrow struck the back window and deflected high above John’s head. He jumped up and shoved the propeller with all his might as he came down. John ran a wide arc around the spinning propeller and entered under the left wing.

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

Primitive Man Meets Flying Machine

   The half naked group, armed with spears and bows and arrows, and one with a stone ax, fanned out once they neared the clearing. They moved in unison like a well-rehearsed infantry unit. Someone gave a bird call upon seeing the camouflaged airplane and the rest moved cautiously toward the source of commotion.

     John saw them move slowly toward the plane, and huddle around the leader. They looked for tell-tale signs of trouble, then regrouped as the leader gave instructions. On cue, they began removing the bushes and curiously rubbed their hands across the smooth surface of the plane. Some of them swung from the wings and struts, while others played with the control surfaces until the leader yelled a warning.

     The leader, dressed in a loincloth and wearing a necklace of bones and ornamental feathers, motioned for one of his subordinates to try the doors. The lackey finally figured how to open the pilot’s door and curiously played with the controls and buttons. He tripped the main power switch, activating the electronic gyro. The slow electrical windup suddenly turned into a high- pitched whir sending everyone scuttling for cover.

     John snickered at the comic relief, but only briefly. He needed to get Steve back to safety, and he knew the natives would soon recover from the scare. He rose to help Steve and timidly headed toward the plane. John ducked as the leader turned in his direction and pointed the others to fan out.     John knew the leader had sent out a search party. He pushed Steve down and jumped to his side, quickly pulling the poncho over them. At least the ponchos are green, John thought. Lying there, he heard the brush around him parting as a few people crept through it. They stopped within a few feet and talked. John could see their dirty feet from under the poncho and prayed they would leave before the sun revealed their hiding place.

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

Danger in the Jungle

CHAPTER 7

“Great landing,” John said. He leaned back and sighed.

“After I shut her down, we should push her into the undergrowth and try to camouflage her. Our only hope is that nobody saw us, and that Marta got our message out,” Steve said.

“What are the odds of that?” asked John.

“I’m not a gambling person. I put my trust in Marta getting the word out, and God taking care of the rest. In the meantime, we need to hide.”

The rain continued to pound down around them. The poor visibility that forced them down was now their hope of obscurity.

“We really need to go deeper into the growth and away from the plane, just in case somebody unfriendly saw us,” said Steve.

“I agree. The farther we get from the plane the better.” John looked to the south, noticing blue sky. “It looks as if it may clear.”

Steve could only smile. It was very doubtful the rain would let up soon. Fog and clouds spun around the mountains like cotton candy.

Grabbing a few ponchos, water, and snacks from the compartment, Steve and John wove their way into the forest. The canopy was thick enough to stop much of the rain, and forest sounds reminded them they were not alone. The sounds also told them there was life out there more capable of survival.

They stopped far enough away to see the plane, yet remain concealed. Steve started to move vines out of the way, but John grabbed his arm.

“Leave everything as is. You’ll be surprised at how natives would notice anything out of place.”

Both men were drenched, having put their ponchos on too late. They stood for a long time in silence. Wind whistled softly through the undergrowth and water plummeted in large drops from overhead. Somewhere to the west they could hear birds singing, and to the north small animals hopped around in the growth.

“It’s always a good idea to listen and get comfortable with the sounds of the environment. That way, if we hear anything strange we can recognize it immediately,” John said.

“Smart idea, no doubt from experience. I can’t help feeling that we may have company before this is over,” Steve predicted.

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

No Safe Place to Land

     “No, he wasn’t. At that time, pilots were flying down the center to avoid being too close to a mountain; however, the rules have since changed. Anyway, what I am about to say to you must stay between us. It was given to me in good faith, but I feel you should know. Deal?”

     “It won’t leave this plane,” John pledged.

     “The pilot attempted the turn and almost made it, but the right wing clipped the trees, dragging the plane to the ground. There was only one survivor, and he was found a few days later still at the site. The pilot and Mr. and Ms. Heatherly died. Their son, Jason was the only survivor.”

     “Who would have ever known?” John said pitifully.

     “It’s not something you share. This was very traumatic. You may even hear it in detail. But please don’t mention it until he does,” Steve said again.

     “It amazes me. How can he even return to the area where his family was killed? Better yet, operate with the same organization that got his family killed?”

     “It was an unfortunate accident and I’m sure Jason was bitter for a long time. But wounds heal, and the Lord works in all ways and in different situations,” said Steve.

     “He’s a better man than I,” John admitted.

     “Jason learned to forgive. Now he is a stronger person and is able to teach and help others.

     The one thing that could’ve shaken his faith only made him stronger.”

     John edged closer to the slope on his right. He thought he might be too close, but Steve hadn’t indicated so. John was unsettled by the story, but such tales were not rare. Many of his friends had been in aircraft accidents, and a few had even lived to fly again.

     The lowering clouds reminded Steve it was time to go home. He took control of the plane to hurry back. They were only 25 miles away, but that was far when visibility was less than two. Already the weather system had overtaken them to the north, with little hope of outrunning it.

     “It’s not looking too good up there is it?” John leaned forward to observe the boiling clouds.

     “No, it’s not. I hope it clears up or we may have to land and wait it out.”

     “I don’t see any place around here to land. I guess we’ll have to take our chances with the clouds,” said John.

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

Remember, Stay to the Right

     “Nice takeoff.” Steve observed.

     “Thanks for noticing. Just call it natural ability or maybe attribute it to the flight school I attended in the jungles of Vietnam,” John replied.

     At 1000 feet above the ground Steve directed a 90 degree turn to the north. Obediently, John steeped the plane gently to the right and flew toward the mountains. From that height they could appreciate the beautiful green countryside. South, they saw a sea of fog extending for miles. To the north, high clouds and clear skies below as the rain had yet to fall.          

     Ahead, mountains shrouded in a sheath of drizzle, vented steam as the rain cooled the warm ground.

     Below, the Baliem wound to the east and then south again as it carved its way through the valley. The river looked muddy in contrast with the lush greenery of the canopy above. Villages dotted the river every few miles, and larger cities such as Wamena had been claimed from the jungle.      

    The river was the life of the communities that thrived there, and the mighty Baliem offered food and water from its depths.

     The weather began to deteriorate as clouds lowered.      

     Realizing they might be headed for trouble, Steve recommended flying north on the other side of the valley.      

     Taking the controls, Steve brought them to mountaintop level. There, visibility was safe enough for low level flying through passages. Light tufts of fog wisped around the wings and left swirls in the plane’s wake.

     “Okay, I’ll demonstrate flying through these passages before these clouds get too low,” Steve yelled over the roaring engine. “Do you see the break in the mountains ahead? Fly to those, staying as far right as you can.”

     “I’m staying to the right, and I don’t mind telling you this is a little nerve racking.”

     “I’m with you, but this is the only way to some of the villages.” Steve knew John would have a hard time at first.      

     “Just remember to stay to the right. That way if you find you may have mistakenly flown the wrong passage, you will have ample room on the left side for maneuvering.”

     “Well, I can tell you that this barely leaves enough to turn. I’d hate to have to make a hasty U-turn or other emergency procedures,” said John.

     There was only a mile of flying space between mountain–plenty of room for turning a car around, but an airplane is another story. The perception of speed was great as they passed within twenty-five feet of the mountain to the right.      The trees and tree top houses were a blur along the mountain side.

     “About the U-turn you mentioned earlier,” Steve shouted. “About 18 years ago one of our own was flying a missionary family through a similar passage. They were headed south to do a revival near Agats. He was heading out of the Maoke Mountains, when he realized nothing looked familiar. He rationalized that he must have gone down the wrong valley.”

     “How come he didn’t climb out and get his bearings?” asked John.

     “Because of similar weather conditions. The pilot opted to continue the route. Visibility was horrible when suddenly a large object loomed before the plane. Instinctively, the pilot initiated a climbing turn hoping to fly back,” said Steve.

     “I guess since he was on one side of the valley, he made it okay,” John guessed.

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

Angle of Climb

“Let me help you. Who are we most likely not able to get along with? I mean, what kind of people really irk us?” asked Steve exercising his Masters Degree in Counseling.

“I don’t know. You mean attitudes or abrasive personalities?” John replied.

“Something like that,” said Steve. “What I am getting at is this. We sometimes dislike those who remind us of ourselves. You see, in our minds we recognize room in our spheres of influence for only one of us. So when a personality appears on someone else that is much like our own, or how we used to be, we don’t like it. We actually feel threatened.”

“Let me see if I can understand, Herr Freud. You are trying to tell me that because Jason and I are somewhat alike, we repel each other like water and oil,” said John.

“Precisely,” replied Steve in a horrible German accent.

Laughing, John felt better. He realized Steve had calmed him down without having to belittle Jason.

As John lifted the left aileron of the Cessna 182 a torrent of water greeted the back of his neck. Although a shock, he felt refreshed as the water ran down his spine and was absorbed into his shirt. He saw Steve hide an amused grin, then take a seat in the passenger side. John inspected the fuel reservoir for telltale signs of water and concluded his inspection before taking his place in the left side of the cockpit. He adjusted the instruments for the proper barometric pressure, horizontal level, and direction on the heading indicator before taxiing to the runway and setting the flaps to full.

“Tiom traffic, this is N7724V taking runway 10, departing to the South west,” John called to inform other pilots in the airspace. He looked 360 degrees, searching for traffic before applying full power. He waited to release the brakes until the RPM’s registered high on the tachometer. At the precise moment, he released the brakes and the powerful engine rolled the plane off the mark, and slowly accelerated toward the trees at the end of the runway. John lifted the nose until it was at the proper attitude to clear the jungle obstacle, and achieve the best angle of climb.

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

I Can't Get Him Off My Case; How Do You Handle It?

     Jason thought for a moment. “My better judgment says not to let you, but knowing your reputation, I can trust you not to get in over your head.”

     “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be in full control of the decisions, and if it’s too bad, I’ll return.” Steve was fully aware of Jason’s intentions.

     “I can vouch for his decision making,” John said. “But I have flown in worse than this. Besides, I thought the pilot made the final flying decision.”

     “Usually yes, but not on my watch,” said Jason.

     The quiet chatter common to crowded rooms suddenly hushed as the two men squared off.

     “I’m going to let you two go, but only for the experience. The rest of you, if you don’t have a real need to fly, consider postponing.”

     Steve and John left ahead of the others and John felt everyone’s eyes on him as they filed past. He didn’t doubt where their loyalties lay and he couldn’t blame them.

     Outside, the sun was a little higher but still shrouded by skirts of high level clouds. As the morning had started, the day continued with drizzle and patches of fog. The already jade foliage took on a luscious, green hue and the jungle steamed as a light mist engulfed it.

     John’s gait quickened and Steve strived hard to keep in step. John seemed oblivious to the sprinkle matting his hair and collecting on his bangs.

     “Slow down, I can’t keep up,” Steve called out.

     “You can’t keep up! I can’t believe the treatment we get around here. I haven’t seen so much baby-sitting since I was in the army.” John had to keep himself from shouting.

     “How do you do it? You two seem to get along just fine, you and I get along, I get along with the other guys, they get along with Jason, but I can’t seem to keep him off my case,” said John.

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

He's Pretty Much No-Nonsense-An Excerpt

“I would have never known,” John responded.

“He’s not the type to go crazy over anyone, but he thinks you are ready to leave the nest. Only you are getting a chance to do so sooner than most. He trusts my judgment. I’ve told him of your abilities, plus all your jungle flying experience only helped him with his decision. We think you arrived here fully capable and the process is just a formality.”

“Not to mention Paul Abbot,” Rachel said.

“Don’t tell me he decided to leave?” John asked.

“He can’t exactly stay here with a special needs child. His place is with his family,” said Steve.

“I know. I thought there was something that could be done here for them,” said John.

“I’ll have to tell you about the boarding schools later.” Steve knew he still had a lot to show John “But that pales in comparison to how harsh an environment ours would be for a pilot trying to meet his child’s requirements.”

“I know how badly he wanted to stay,” said John.

“God still has plans for him,” Steve reminded.

But do those plans include flying? John thought.

“Tomorrow we’ll hit some mountain passages and see how you handle ‘em,” said Steve.

“I’m ready to hit it,” said John.

“Understand that Jason cares for everyone here and is careful how he dispatches the pilots and missionaries. He has to evaluate everyone. No slackers, no individuals, and definitely no hot shots,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I figured him as no nonsense,” said John.

“Just remember, there is a lot of pressure that comes with his job. And there’s a whole string of events that led him here,” said Steve.

“I guess so,” John said. He reluctantly pushed back from the table. “I’d better go.”

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

He Wants to Fly for the Airlines-An Excerpt from Commitment A Novel

     “I’ve taught him everything I know. Especially the few flying restrictions. He likes the idea of uncontrolled airspace,” said Steve.

     Jason bristled. “He has to realize uncontrolled airspace or not, I give the final decision about flights.”

     “I think John is cool with that. He just has to get used to the idea of falling under your authority and obeying POW-imposed restrictions,” Steve defended.

     “That’s your job then. I agree, he is probably more experienced than most of our pilots, but reel him in. It’s not a one-man show.” Jason was hesitant about the idea of giving John a route sooner than usual. “What else?”

     “He is aware of weather and terrain dangers. I’ve reiterated that flying in cloud cover and heavy fog is treacherous and unpredictable, strictly prohibited and tightly enforced,” said Steve. “I’ll keep reminding him.”

     “Make sure he understands. If not, we’ll keep him in training.”

     “Jason, there’s something else.”

     Jason flinched as Steve told him of John’s desire to fly for an airline.

Get your copy at www.redbikepublishing.com

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

We'll just work you while you are here

CHAPTER 5

“That was an excellent landing,” Steve said once on the primitive air strip.

“This is definitely a smaller area than I am used to landing in,” John said over the running engine. “Plus I’m not used to landing uphill.”

“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.

The Dedication-From Commitment

Beautiful Indonesia 

     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.”

     Together they had erected the sign reading, “RAYMOND SPRINGER MEMORIAL AIRFIELD.”

     Marta returned from her thoughts as she focused on the plaque. It looks as if it had been made yesterday. She wiped tears and memories away as she forced her mind to the present, then stooped to pull some weeds from the base of the sign and nodded with approval.

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

Gourds and Stone Axes

CHAPTER 4

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.

 

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

The Deep Sleep-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, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Commitment Excerpt

John’s first assessment of Tiom reminded him of the setting in most bush pilot stories he had ever read. The rich greenery surrounding a well-used runway was almost cliché. “Adventures would be launched from this small cradle he would call home, most likely stemming from encounters with such flying hazards as tall snow-covered mountains, smoke from clear-cutting, and clouds.

Daryl led him to the two waiting men. One was very tall, about a head taller than the other. He looked purely business with his hands clasped behind his back; nothing to hide. The other wore the warmest smile John had ever seen.

During introductions, a small crowd of greeters circled the four. John felt himself being whisked away to a more private meeting.

“We’ve been looking toward your arrival,” Jason said in a rehearsed voice. “Our responsibilities cover a lot of ground, as you’ll soon learn.”

“Thank you both for the welcome. Daryl has been briefing me on your little operation here and I’m anxious to get started.”

“I can assure you there is nothing ‘little’ about what we do here,” Jason defended. “There are many people who rely on us for logistical support.”

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?” John asked.

“Never mind him, as the backbone of the setup, Jason’s a little overworked. In fact, he has staff just to monitor his blood pressure,” Steve said chuckling.

“All right, excuse me if I take a little pride. I’m sure you meant no harm, nor did I. I just wanted you to know how important our work is. New pilots don’t understand this until reality hits them head on, sometimes in the form of disease or a plane wreck. Working here is no way to collect flight hours. Our business is people’s lifeline, an intravenous line straight to their hearts. Realize this early on and your work here will be rewarding for you and those whose lives you touch,” Jason said.

“I couldn’t say it better myself,” admitted Daryl. “I guess that’s why you’re in charge.”

“Steve, why don’t you take John’s bags and show him to his quarters and I’ll have the mechanics service Daryl’s plane.” Jason clapped his hands together as if a movie director was cutting a scene. “Why don’t we have a little informal get together for dinner tonight, since we have some special guests. “Around 6:30?”

“Sounds good. You know that Rachel will be more than willing to help,” Steve volunteered his wife. He turned to John. “Let’s get you settled into your new home.”

“Good to have met all of you.” John waved wearily. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

John followed Steve to a cinder block building adjacent the hanger compound. It was a long one-story complex with roll-open windows. Just inside a large cork board displayed messages and swayed as the two walked by.

Inside, John’s new room was surprisingly pleasant. Wicker furniture offered a homey atmosphere and was far from tacky. John found himself escorted to a roomy suite doubling as a dining or study area then to a separate bedroom. Everything was furnished except for the kitchen and plumbing which were shared in a community room down the hall.

“After saying good-bye, John unpacked and stared out of the window at the people working to outrace the sun. He recognized some faces of people he had already met. They now struggled to tow Daryl’s plane to a primitive shelter. Some of the now familiar residents removed clothing from clotheslines and others prepared for dinner while another small group carried notebooks and Bibles back to their rooms.

The setting sun reminded John that he had about an hour to clean up. Settling into a creaking chair, he wondered how he would ever have the strength to socialize during the coming evening.

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

Not There Yet; Miles to Go-Commitment a Novel

Along the way, Matt told John of his own experiences in Papua, New Guinea, and several visits to other missionaries in the West Indies and New Guinea. “Irian Jaya has only in the last ten years been handed down from United Nations’ control after the Dutch released control. What amazes me is that they have a national language, but it doesn’t matter because each village is remote and has its own dialect,” he said as he drove the bouncing jeep down secondary roads.

“You mean I just wasted all this time learning Bahasa?” John reflected on his three months of missionary basic training.

“It’s not a waste of time; you’ll need it in dealing with government workers. But in the remote areas it’s a different and primitive game. But don’t worry; the local missionaries can translate for you.”

“Well, I don’t plan on doing too much talking–only flying. Shouldn’t here too long.” John watched the tall trees lining the road like soldiers standing at attention.

“If I may speak frankly,” Matt didn’t wait for permission. “If you are here to log enough flying hours to land a job with an airline, I think the nature of your work will change your heart, or send you packing.”

“Maybe.” Don’t count on it. I’ll fly in, and in nine to twelve months, fly out. John yawned, too tired to continue the conversation.

***

“Are we there?” John asked groggily a few hours later.

“Finally here. You slept through most of it, but I imagine it wasn’t enough rest,” Matt replied.

“Sorry, I guess I wasn’t much company,” said John.

“That’s all right. Let’s take your bags in and get you on your way to your new life.”

John unloaded and checked in with the POW administration. His fears were relieved when Matt told him his flight would be out the next afternoon with the mail delivery.

“John, have a safe and productive visit,” Matt said, extending his right hand. “Just a word of advice. Be careful to show the utmost respect to the indigent people as well as the missionaries under their care. They can get really nasty when offended.”

John thought about Mathew’s last words as he pulled back the sheets to his temporary bed. He laid his head on the pillow and fell asleep.

Red smoke drifted above the primitive helipad. Like a butterfly to sweet nectar, John and his helicopter flew to the clearing where the smoke grenade belched its crimson message. Soldiers injured during intense fighting needed to be evacuated, and John swore to get the job done.

“Hurry up and get in!” he screamed over the swishing of the spinning rotors. He could see the blinding flashes and the quaking of the earth as artillery exploded around him. “Just throw them in here and let’s go.”

The soldiers moved incredibly slowly as the explosions of artillery walked closer to the chopper. John could feel his hands sweating, and pulse quicken.

“Let’s go!” he screamed.

Finally, John felt the change in cabin pressure as the large cargo door slammed shut and the aircraft began its ascent. Even the air seemed to shake as explosions rocked the atmosphere. John watched medics wave frantically, begging him to land for the newly wounded. “I can’t land!” he screamed in frustration. “We’re too heavy!”

The helicopter seemed to float in slow motion as John increased the throttle and pushed the stick forward. He heard new screams coming from the passenger area of the Huey as they reacted to every bump and turn. They continued to scream horribly, until John turned to face them.

John bolted upright. He thought the days of nightmares were over since he’d quit flying helicopters in Vietnam. In the darkness he saw a motion in his peripherals, startling him. He gasped and nearly panicked until a stealthy figure put out a hand in gesture of friendliness. “Please, I do not mean to harm you,” the faceless shadow said

“Never, ever sneak up on anyone, especially me!” John ordered, fully intending to register his distress.

“I am very sorry,” the shadow said quietly. “It is breakfast time, yes? Everyone awake and waiting for you at table.” The ghost faded away.

John stretched and reached for his cloths and the towel provided. Could he be one of the natives? Maybe the people in Irian Jaya will have the same command of English... fat chance.

After showering in the lukewarm water, John shaved, dressed, and found his way to the dining area. The woman who checked him in the night before introduced him to the director.

“So good to finally meet you, Mr. Braddham.” Ted Jackson extended his hand enthusiastically.
“Thanks to Matt Smith, many of our missionaries find their way here easily.” He pulled a chair from the table and motioned for John to sit.

John thought for a minute about Ted’s definition of ‘easy’ before taking the extended hand and pumping it firmly. “Good to meet you too, Mr. Jackson. Sorry if I look a little rough, but I feel like I was dragged from Texas.”

“That’s quite all right. You should get used to the time change soon enough. Here at the home base we receive missionaries who travel to our sphere of operation. Be it Indonesia or New Guinea, our philosophy is to get you to your assignment as soon as possible. That’s the sure way to motivate your biological clock to adjust faster,” Jackson said.

“I was looking for a few days of napping, but working my body into this time zone makes better sense. That’s exactly what happened to us when we were sent to Vietnam–we hit the airport running,” John said in reflection. “Besides, I’d really like to get to flying, if you know what I mean, Mr. Jackson.”

“Call me Ted. I know your military background has taught you respect for your elders and those who are appointed over you. But it’s not as necessary here as it is in battle, even though ours is a spiritual one. Just be patient about flying. The routes you will fly are harrowing, even for the best pilots.”

“So, this past training is somehow not enough?” John asked hoping not to sound desperate.

“No, not at all. It’s just the foundation you will build upon. We need to hone your abilities. In the meantime, your first few weeks will be spent as an apprentice,” Ted said.

“As long as I get to fly.” John wondered if he sounded like a broken record.

“Eat up, there’s plenty of food,” Ted offered, changing the subject while glancing at his watch. “You will be leaving in an hour or so.”

While eating, John found himself updating fellow Americans on their favorite TV shows including The Brady Bunch and Ironside.

Others wanted to know the latest in news and sports, the kind of information one doesn’t see too often or acquire quickly enough. The foreign missionaries snickered at the attentiveness to American popular culture. But what they had in common was a desire for their precious work, though they seemed generally homesick.

John heard the approaching engines of a light plane. “Is that my ride?”

“That’s it. Daryl will probably come in for coffee while the cargo is transferred,” said Ted.

“Great, I’ll get my bags together. Tell him it’ll be just a minute.” John got up to leave.

Quiet snickering filled the room then hushed as the screen door creaked open.

“No need to wait, she’s here now,” said Ted.

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.

A new mission

CHAPTER 16

     Jason was finishing breakfast when John entered the cafeteria. He pushed his plate aside and motioned for John to take a seat next to him. He was pleased with the progress John was making as the new pilot, having earned the respect of not only the other pilots, but of the mission families as well, who also spoke well of him.

     “You wanted to see me?” John asked.

     “I didn’t want to tell you at the briefing because I didn’t want to undermine the other pilots. I need you to fly Sandy to the villages to give medical checkups.” Jason spoke of his wife’s nursing profession.

    “Why can’t the others do this? Not that I mind, of course.” Inside, John was excited.

     “Well, if you need to hear it,” Jason wiped his mouth with the neatly folded napkin. “I question your motivation to be here. But I think you are, aside from Steve, one of the best pilots, but he already has a full plate.”

    “So the job entails flying your wife to the villages other pilots are serving,” John said.

     “Yes, every quarter Sandy performs check-ups, goes through medical records and gives shots. It should take about a week to finish.”

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

Big Reception Party

I guess the new guy has arrived. The home base in Tarampura is holding a reception party. I guess everyone will be there. Steve is going to fly me in tomorrow and then the gang's all there.

I hope he knows what he's in for, coming across the world to these remote jungles.

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

New guy is flying in today. We could use another pilot out here, but I always wonder how long they will stay. The jungle isn't for everyone.




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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