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Katie's Quest

By Lee Carver

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Katie Dennis stepped from the seaplane onto its float with her knees still shaking. Her first flight ever in a light aircraft shook her from her dizzy head to her clenched toes. With the constant motion now stilled she no longer felt ill. She tried to push away the lingering effects of panic at all the sudden drops and bounces in the air. Her new job as a missionary nurse in the Brazilian Amazon would require many flights like this, bouncing over the dense jungle.
She knew good people died doing this. Knew it too well. This morning’s flight might have been a shortcut to eternity.

“Come up onto the pier, Katie.” In the deep-water inlet, the pilot, Matt, stood on the rough-hewn planks a foot above her with his hand outstretched. “Quick. The wind’s blowing the plane back.” He’d tied it to a strong post, with some play in the line.

She held her breath, willed her legs to be firm, and locked her eyes on his. Their clear blue beamed assurance at the same moment they caused a new tremor down her middle. In the two weeks since joining Outreach for Christ, she’d decided no missionary should be this handsome.

The distance between them seemed too far a leap, but he looked into her eyes with absolute confidence. If he didn’t think anything was amiss, she had to trust him. He was the one with experience at getting in and out of a float plane. Placing her hand in his, she extended one foot toward the flimsy planks. As she attempted the wide step up, her foot pushed the plane back.

She tried to reach the pier with her toes. Teetering over the dark water, she stretched uncomfortably. Almost in slow motion, her foot slid on the slick aluminum surface of the float behind her. Her breath caught. In an effort to save herself from plunging into the murky waters of the Rio Negro, she tightened her grip on Matt’s hand and pulled.

His eyes widened in surprise. Instead of tugging her back, he wobbled, flailed his free arm, and plunged forward.

She released his hand and hit the water spread out like a butterfly in flight. The weight of his body crashed onto her back, pushing her deep. Her last-instant half breath wasn’t enough. Unable to see anything and unaware which way was up, she fought the urge to inhale by clamping her hand hard over her nose and mouth.
She kicked, landing blows against Matt, and his shoes struck her shins. Her feet sunk into the gooey mud bottom as his strong arm encircled her waist.

Instinctively she pushed back. No. Matt was trying to save her. She forced herself to quit struggling and trust him.

He gave a mighty push off the bottom, and their heads broke the surface at the same time. Katie gasped air, her eyes still shut against the river water streaming down her face.

Beside her, she heard him sucking air. “Can you swim?” His voice came from behind her, right at her ear.

Hanging in his arm, she had no space to dog-paddle. She swiped at water dripping from her hair and cleared her vision. “Yes, but not usually with my shoes on.”
Matt shook water off his head and gripped the edge of the pier. His firm clasp on her didn’t loosen. She turned away from him to hang onto the splintery wood and inhaled hard, keeping her head above water.

They’d survived.

The ridiculous situation burst a bubble of hysterics in her brain, and she laughed and sputtered in sudden relief.

From above, the doctor and evangelist who had traveled with them for the mission took hold of her forearms. “Um, dois, tres!” They pulled straight up, not even scraping her body against the splintered wood.

When her feet touched the pier, she turned and watched Matt as he pushed up on the walkway beside her. His arms bulged against his mission pilot shirt, now clinging to his chest. One epaulet hung from a shoulder. With a burst of strength, he did a midair twist and plopped onto the pier.

He frowned and scanned her from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” She flipped her hair back and swiped water off her face, arms, and legs. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have tried—”

“Not a problem.” He breathed hard. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” Then his slow smile spread, affecting her already-pounding heart in a way she hadn’t felt since the death of her fiancé, Greg. She didn’t want that flood of emotions, especially for another pilot.

She scrambled to her feet. Matt stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. He had every right to be angry at her but showed only concern. “You didn’t break anything?”

“Just my pride. How about you?” She basked in his attention and wanted to extend this moment. “No cracked ribs?” She patted his strongly muscled, wet chest. “I’m sure I kicked you.”

“No harm done.” He winced, making her doubt his words.

The clatter of feet and excited voices drew her attention. Brown-skinned, wooly-haired children flowed downhill from the village laughing and pointing. “Mateus baptized the lady.”

Katie tried to ignore the water puddling from her slacks and blouse. Switching into the Portuguese language, newly earned in six months of intensive study, she greeted the kids with waves and smiles. Some of the youngsters jabbered and pointed at the red mud on her shoes. Others begged Matt to let them carry materials up the steep path to the houses. They all wanted to be involved in the work and crowded around Matt for instructions.

“Call your dads, meninos. We need help with the heavy stuff.” Matt pulled the plane close and secured it laterally to the pier.

Katie stood aside, dripping, disheveled, and feeling very foolish. This was not how she imagined arriving at her first clinic in the jungle.

Men of the community descended with welcoming smiles and handshakes. “Mateus.” A runty guy called for the pilot’s attention. The bowed legs beneath his ragged shorts confirmed a profound case of rickets. She had never seen such severity except in nursing textbooks.

“My wife said you would come today. She sent me out to find those red bananas you like. Man, you’re too much trouble.” He laughed and poked Matt in the chest, and she noticed his wince again. With no x-ray equipment, it would be impossible to accurately check for fractured ribs.

The men pumped vigorous handshakes and slapped each other on the back.

Together the villagers hoisted the first of many tubs of medicines and supplies.
The river had cooled Katie for a moment, but now the tropical sun on her wet garments produced cloying humidity. She saw no option for changing clothes with scores of people swarming about.

The dentist passed her with a folding dental chair, a modern construction of light, sturdy corrugated material that collapsed for easy transit on the small plane. “Here, meninos, give me a hand with these instrument cases.” He passed out three of the secure boxes to boys begging for the honor.

Chattering enthusiasm abounded in the crowd as more people greeted the team, now including women in cotton skirts and faded knit shirts. Most of the adults were missing teeth, but smiles lit their faces.

The other four people on the trip—Matt, Dr. Mauro, the evangelist Pastor Jaime, and the dentist Dr. Joel—had done missions before. She was glad they knew where to go and how to set up camp in the village, and simply followed their lead.
She’d tough it out in her wet clothes. If Matt could ignore being sopping wet and keep working, so could she.

Sitting on the rough planks, she rinsed her tennis shoes and socks and put them back on wet. Squishing to the hub of activity around the plane, she took a load and trudged up the hill to the community of about a dozen unpainted, thatched-roof houses on stilts. A wide stretch of hard-packed bare red dirt separated the row of sun-bleached rough wooden structures from the river bluff.

The area bustled with villagers of all ages carrying bundles from the plane like ants on a path. The gathering place stood at the far left of the homes like an afterthought. She made her way there with the cases of medical instruments, noting that this river enclave had blowing trash and a general unkempt appearance. Tucking that thought away, she put on a smile for each person she met, especially the skin-kneed, dirty little children.

After years of nursing school, language preparation, fund raising, and the move south of the Equator, her life started over today.

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