John
taxied the plane to the opposite end of the small airstrip, turned it into the
wind as he usually did, and prepared to shut down. As he reached down to grab
his check list, he caught a glimpse of sudden movement from the crowd. At the
same time, Digul recognized his mother and began rocking in excitement, waving
his arms, and shouting. This added to the urgency of Digul’s crying mother as
she bolted toward the plane.
“John,
look out!” Marta warned, at the same time waving the excited mother back.
“Noooo!”
John screamed, reaching for the throttle to still the whirling blades.
John
stared blankly as he shook off the fear. That was almost a catastrophe, he
thought as his door swung open. He was not completely aware of the many hands
that rubbed his arms and patted his head. He wanted to just lie back and sigh
as he recovered from the shock. As he sat shaking, he saw Marta being pulled
from the plane, as everyone wanted to hug her. It wasn’t until the plane
started rocking as many bodies bumped against it that John become fully aware
of the celebration.
Digul’s
mother cried and held Marta in thanksgiving as some men helped Digul out of the
back. They stepped back aghast at the hard structure on his leg. For a long
minute, the celebration came to an abrupt end. The poor kid just stood there
with his head cocked to one side trying to understand. His mother began to
approach him cautiously, not wanting to hurt her son, who just two days before
lay on his death bed. Seeing his mother only a few yards away he tried to walk
toward her, but only stumbled.
Finally
recovered from his scare, John emerged from the plane with the crutches and
fell in behind Marta and the boys.
Digul
was proud of himself for being able to slowly walk to his mother. He stopped
and beamed a bright smile of accomplishment. He struggled to get his arms free
and held them out to his mother.
Suddenly
the spell was broken, as the mother once again rushed to her son. She held him
close as the people began cheering. They understood he had recovered, and he
wasn’t a ghost.
Digul
took up his crutches and followed the rest of his people to the village as the
excitement wore off, leaving John and Marta alone. They stood together leaning
against the plane, each enjoying the cool air blowing in from the east and
swirling around them. It was quiet now and they could actually hear the breeze
whispering gently over the plane. In the distance, playing monkeys caused tree
tops to sway vigorously.
Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.
