Stories for Challenge Read online

  It was not an easy job to transport the large shelter to the site where it was to be erected, but they managed. James had identified two palm trees that would do for the northern end of the shelter and had Paul tie two corners up as high as he could reach on these two palm trees. Then they used tent posts for the other two corners, but found that the center of the shelter would sag and pull over the tent posts if they didn’t do something to reinforce them. Additional ropes were added to hold the tent posts out in position, and ropes from the center of the long sides of the shelter were also tied up to palm trees. Between the inherent tendency to rigidity brought by weaving palm fronds along the junctions of the mats and the help with suspension from the ropes, it was up and looked as if it would stay up.

  As they were finishing, Val, Shelly, Roger and Maria returned. Val looked and sighed. “Just what I wanted. Ralph, get me a blanket please. Jeanne, it’s time for your treatment. Where is the pot of water? Where are my soaking rags?” It didn’t take her long to have everything organized to her satisfaction, and Jeanne under treatment.

  Everyone else scampered onto the beach and into the water, splashing, prancing, splashing one-another, and generally celebrating a day of great effort and great accomplishment. Mark looked up from his palm frond whittling activity and decided to join them, leaving his sulu on the beach with his sandals. No one could remember having seen Mark in the water before. Ralph splashed and swam briefly, then returned to the infirmary to be with Jeanne. Paul, Maria, James and Marcella had swimming races to the reef and back. Roger did the side stroke. Mark sat in water deep enough to reach his chin while sitting down and Julia came to be by his side, helping him with his knee exercises.

  The moment for tai chi arrived. Roger swam sidestroke to the tai chi beach; Ralph, Jeanne and Val joined the others in the water as they all moved to follow Roger, except Mark, who limped back out of the water, put his sulu and sandals back on, and returned to his place in the Kitchen Tent and his whittling.

  Tai Chi

  It was 5:45. After a long, warm, productive and sunny day, the sun now low in the west, a faint breeze hinting that relief from the heat might be coming, emerging like merfolk from the water, the twelve gathered on the shore to do tai chi, dripping with the cool, salty water of the lagoon.

  There was a calm among the twelve, as a feeling of disappointment that no one had spoken mixed with an aura of confidence that everything was going well, despite the disappointment. Every one of them had waited all day in expectation that they would see some response to the smoke signal that they felt must have been seen by the occupants of the airplane that had passed by two days ago. Of course, no one came during the storm yesterday, but today, yes, today someone should have come. But no one had come.

  In the meantime, they had done everything that they needed to do to repair the damage done to the camp by the storm. Some things were better. The palm frond lean-tos were better than the ones made from life rafts had been. Tomorrow they would go fishing. They had proved again that they were survivors and that they could and would take care of themselves. And now, at the end of a busy day, they gathered to do tai chi.

  Roger announced the start of the form: “Starting position, arms at your sides. Exhale. Bounce the Ball. Strike palm. All in. All out. Grasp bird’s tail. Extend and push. Single whip. Strike past ear. White crane. Push to the Right. Push to the Left. Brush knee. Parry and Punch. False Close. Push. Carry tiger. Carry baby. Fist under elbow. Eye strike. Repulse Monkey. Close up.”

  They worked on repulse monkey. Roger showed them the next movement, “slanting flying.” They followed him through slanting flying twice, then through eye strike, repulse monkey and slanting flying. They did the whole form once again, a short session of qi ‘gong and then broke for supper.

  Supper

  The canned ham had been stewing in its own juices and shredded coconut for some time. Marcella whipped the potatoes and put the canned vegetable medley into a pot to warm it quickly by the fire while she sliced the ham. Mashed potatoes into a bowl, drain the vegetables and put them in another bowl, put out the sliced ham, and supper was served. For dessert, she had prepared a fruit salad, using canned fruit and shredded fresh coconut.

  Overall, the coconut was a hit with everyone. All agreed that it created the additional hint of mystery that made the dishes hold together so well. Marcella got another round of applause for her creation.

  It was a slow supper. Everyone was tired. Val and Jeanne retreated to the new infirmary tent for Jeanne’s treatment – and when they reappeared half an hour later, no one had missed them. Finally, the subject of the missing contact with civilization was raised. Roger could imagine reasons why no one had come. Paul added a few more. James, acknowledging how disappointing it was, reminded them that they were not rescued until they were rescued – and that they had put in a good day of work against the possibility that rescue was not imminent.

  The sun set during supper and there was a pause before the moon came out, a pause of relative darkness, of stars, quickly overcome by a rising moon just a couple days after full. They washed their dishes and wondered who would have a story to tell today.

  Mark tells his story

  Mark asked if he could tell his story tonight. No one had any objection, so he did.

  “When I was a teenager, I thought rock and roll was everything. I learned to play the guitar and the drums. At 18, I was playing in a rock band with two other guys and two gals who did mostly the vocals and some percussion stuff. We had a few pretty exciting gigs around town, but we never got to be big time. It didn’t even take a year for us to break up.

  “But I had the bug and it wasn’t going away. I went to San Francisco to see what was happening in the Haight, but I found that I was too late – all the action had moved on to somewhere else. I bummed around for a while. There were a couple bands looking for drums or guitars, but I was never quite good enough. Then one of the leaders of a band I tried out for drums for asked if I knew anything about booking.

  “Well, I did. I was the one to do all the work of arranging gigs back home. Well, the guy who’d done all the booking for this group had been the one who’d split, so none of them had any idea how to do that. I asked them how soon we’d have a drummer. They said I was drummer ‘til someone better came along, but I was their booking agent for as long as I could get them gigs.

  “I went right to work. I had two gigs for us by the end of the day, and by two weeks, we were working every night. Now that we were working, when we auditioned, we got drummers who made me look like a beginner. But I kept on doing the bookings. I called some clubs I knew of in Tahoe and Reno. We made a road trip and played five places in Tahoe and Reno in a six night trip. One place in San Francisco wanted us full time, every night, but they weren’t willing to pay enough, so we turned them down. Someone passed me a tip that one of the casino-hotels in Vegas was looking for good rock bands. I called them and booked a week in Las Vegas.

  “Things really took off then. Our price went up. We started playing places a week or two at a time instead of one night here and one night there. We cut an album. It was really heady. People were coming out of the woodwork to see and hear us, and to touch us.

  “Then the two song writers in the group had a spat. I think it was over some chick that they both wanted to sleep with. Anyway, they went their separate ways and the band fell apart. Somehow, I got back to San Francisco and flopped. I felt like I didn’t want anything to do with rock and roll ever again.

  “Then, about a week or so later, this guy called me on the phone. Was I the one who did the bookings for that band I used to work with? Yes. Would I come and talk to them? I did. They had a really good band going. They had a few local gigs in San Francisco, but nothing big, and they wanted to be big. They thought they were good enough for it, and I agreed. They offered me twice what the other band had paid me. It was great.

  “Well, we had the same kind of trajectory. First I worked ha
rd locally until I had us busy all the time. Then Tahoe and Reno. Then Vegas. Once we hit Las Vegas, the world opened. We had a couple of gigs on TV shows. We did a set for Lawrence Welk. We got on Ed Sullivan. We were making some real money, and we were spending it on drugs and booze as fast as we made it.

  “Well, drugs and booze and money are just not a good combination. There was a fight one night because someone thought someone else in the band had stolen their stash. The fact that we found it the next day didn’t help to clean up the fight, and the band broke up.

  “Frankly, I was getting pretty tired of this. We had managed to make over a million dollars in one year as a band, and no one had anything to show for it, including me.

  “I found my way back home to Los Angeles and did some odd jobs. I worked in a music store for a while. I was just barely making ends meet and working pretty hard at it. Sometimes I would just give up for a while – mom and dad usually rescued me when I did that. Other times, I would lapse back into spending all my change on drugs and fritter my life away that way. Then there were long stretches in between where I vowed to work hard and work my way up the ladder.

  “When I was about forty, I re-met an old high school sweetheart of mine, Julia. Julia was so neat and organized that it helped me to stay straight and clean. After about three years of working hard, I landed a job with a clothing company. I did all kinds of things for them – for a while I was a janitor; I worked some of the machines that made the clothes; I worked in the shipping department. One day, someone asked me to come to a meeting with the buyer from a large chain of clothing stores we were trying to sell to. The sales people did their stuff, and the buyer was still skeptical, I could tell. So I did something I hadn’t been invited to do and spoke up. I told him about how carefully we made the clothes, and how well we treated them when we packed them for shipping, about the superior materials we used in the manufacture. Boy, you could see him swaying. It was just like promoting a band, only a lot more fun. He bought the whole line of our products, and it sold well for him.

  “Well, they decided I belonged on the sales team. It was like a dream come true for me. I was having a good time, and they were paying me really well. And I was able to support Julia and me the way I wanted to. Now they have made me vice-president of marketing. It is a dream come true.

  “So, if the issue ever comes up about whether dreams come true, the answer is that they do.”

  There was silence following Mark’s story. There was a lot to Mark no one had known before. Jim, in particular, wanted to explore with Mark, his musical experience. But this was not the time.

  Jim began to play “Home on the Range” on his recorder, and, gradually, all the voices joined in. They ran through their communal repertoire, getting the usual kick out of each song, singing their own alternative versus for “Home on the Range” and ending the evening with “Dona Nobis Pacem.” They had sung more beautifully before, but that did not detract from their enjoyment. It was the perfect close for a very busy day.

  5

  October 5

  It was 7:30. The sun was already well up in the east, telling the beginnings of a hot day to come. A faint breeze blew from the palm trees toward the water, a slight movement of air, cooled by palm leaves and still-evaporating water from the soggy sand, seducing the unwary into a belief that a cool breeze might persist – it wouldn’t. By ten o’clock, the air would be as calm as the water in the lagoon, a glassy mirror, reflecting the sky.

  Twelve well rested souls gathered on the beach, some yawning, others stopping at the water’s edge to splash a little on a sleepy face. They had worked hard the day before and all had slept well. And now, to start a new day, they gathered to do tai chi, first with qi ‘gong exercises, then with work on the Yang Long Form.

  Roger announced the start of the form: “Starting position, arms at your sides. Exhale. Bounce the Ball. Strike palm. All in. All out. Grasp bird’s tail. Extend and push. Single whip. Strike past ear. White crane. Push to the Right. Push to the Left. Brush knee. Parry and Punch. False Close. Push. Carry tiger. Carry baby. Fist under elbow. Eye strike. Repulse Monkey. Slanting Flying. Good. Close up.”

  “You are still having some challenges with repulse monkey. Let’s do it again. Start at fist under elbow.” He led them through repulse monkey and slanting flying twice, then back to do the whole form again. Roger demonstrated the next movement, “raise hand.” It was a long sequence of movements. He led them just through the first half of it three times. Then they did the whole form again, then a few moments of qi ‘gong and Roger suggested they go to breakfast.

  Marcella had fixed oatmeal, to which she had added shredded coconut, cinnamon and honey. Reconstituted powdered milk was available. It was not exactly a gourmet feast, but it would get them going into the day.

  James had glimpsed Jeanne’s back during tai chi and knew pretty much what a detailed examination was going to tell him. He did not disturb her during breakfast, but did talk to Valerie about getting Jeanne to the infirmary for a treatment after breakfast and for a more thorough examination than he could do at breakfast. He also indicated to Ron that another sketch would indeed be called for.

  After breakfast, Val led Jeanne away to the infirmary tent for her treatment despite her protest that “But Dr. James has not looked at my back yet.”

  “Don’t worry. I talked to him. Just come along.”

  So she did. They were just getting into the sea water soaks when James arrived. He lifted the wet cloths, looking carefully at the burns revealed, frequently using a dry cloth to dry Jeanne’s skin in a local area, to get the look of the burn both wet and dry. Finally, replacing the entire array of wet cloths, he began to speak.

  “It is pretty much as I had anticipated. The three largest burns are still open and there are three others that are not quite closed – these three are among those that got worse the day you omitted your treatments. However, no lasting damage was done. They will all, all six of them, be healed tomorrow if we stick with the treatment program and nothing bad happens.”

  “Oh, thank you, Dr. James. You and Val have taken such good care of me.”

  “We all did it together. You were the star of the show, you know.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I think you were.”

  “Thank you. Stick with your treatments today.”

  “OK.”

  James got up and left; Val continued with the treatment; Ron made his sketch. Ralph wandered over at about this time and wanted to know what Dr. James had said.

  In the Kitchen Tent, the rest of the group was talking about what would be happening today: another run for more water; checking on the vegetables and the flowers; this afternoon, fishing for tuna for supper. Compared to yesterday, this seemed like a day of vacation.

  Morning Activities

  The water brigade needed only to gather four jugs of water today, so Paul and Jim set out to get water before James returned from the infirmary tent. They crossed into Coral Beach, circled around the upper end of the bog, crossed the still-flowing stream. The lower beach was covered with a profusion of the green leaf plant, and the bushes along the stream were again in bloom, a remarkable odor of sweet, floral pungency pervading the pathway they trod. They dipped the jugs into the water, filling them quickly and easily, and started back, meeting Roger, Shelly and Maria, who had come to pick the green leaf vegetable.

  On reaching the Kitchen Tent, they found Marcella and Julia cleaning up from breakfast, and received directions from Marcella about the disposition of the water jugs. Jim turned toward the infirmary tent to see how Ron was coming with his sketch of Jeanne’s back; Paul, now joined by James, who returned from the infirmary as he was storing the water, grabbed a couple of large pots and returned to Coral Beach to see if they could help gather vegetables, or start gathering flowers.

  Marcella gave Shelly and Maria careful instructions about what she wanted in terms of leaves from the vegetables. For lunch, she wanted leaves
that were no bigger than the circle made by long finger and thumb as a circle – these were the tenderest and would make the best salad. For supper, she would want to go collecting again in the afternoon – she was not going to serve leaves today that had been sitting out in the heat for 8 or 9 hours since being picked. What she prepared for supper would be freshly picked for supper.

  Maria enlisted assistance from Roger and the three of them took just a single large pot to collect the small leaves for salad. They met Paul and Jim bringing water. By the time Paul and James joined them at Coral Beach, they were approaching the capacity of their pot for little leaves.