Solutions: A Dog's Dilemma by James Gerard (book suggestions .TXT) 📕

part of the trip.

 

“Ready?”

 

“How much further?” Rick asked.

 

“Still got a ways to go yet.”

 

Rick dropped his jaw in reaction to Jack approaching the nearby plane.  The propellers appeared beaten and the fuselage scratched and dented.   He wondered if this was the best Jack could do.  The plane was nothing he had ever seen before.  Besides its grimy, beat up fuselage and propellers, overall it was so tattered looking Rick could not even imagine the contraption flying.  He understood that he was at an airport, and that the plane at some point in its life landed there, but when he thought; fifty years ago?

 

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” said Jack from behind.  “The good news is it’s not going to crash.  The bad news it will disintegrate in the air during flight long before that.”

 

“You're serious?  We’re flying on that?”

 

“Just trust in the Lord.”

 

Rick’s eyes rolled with the detection of fuel reeking from its wings.   Water dripped, more like streamed out of its underbelly.  Rust and small patches of some industrial looking compound came into sight as he neared the cabin door.  Up top there appeared to be what looked like a flight attendant, but he was not so sure.  She smiled and greeted Jack as he entered the cabin.  Rick recognized the familiar behavior, accepted the fact that she was a flight attendant.

 

He was warmly greeted by the same smile and welcomed in the same friendly manner as Jack but stopped to scan the interior for a moment.   Stained, worn out carpets, tattered cloth dividing the compartments, stained and smudged and scratched doors to the overhead storage compartments, cramped and uncomfortable seats, the smell of disinfectant stinging the nostrils seemed to contradict the warm and caring actions and words of the flight attendant.

 

Rick reluctantly took a seat facing Amanda.  Her closed eyes, head tilted and leaning against the window, signaled not to worry.

 

A scratchy voice came alive in the cabin.  “Welcome aboard.  I will not lie to you.  I have been working with this airline for fifteen years and each and every time we take off and land successfully I count my blessings.  In case of an emergency landing, forget about the emergency exits because they have been frozen shut for years.  In case we crash into water, hope you are a good swimmer.  And, if you do need my assistance in such an emergency just look for the top of my parachute from your window.  On behalf of the pilot and myself I hope you have a pleasant flight.”

 

Rick heard Jack’s laugh.  After a few seconds he realized what was going on.  He was relieved that it was just an inside joke between him and the flight attendant. 

 

With a small blast and puff of smoke the propellers began to spin slowly until they reached a humming pitch.  The plane lurched forward and sped up.  The cabin shook.  Rick held tight to the armrests.  Then, as fast as the furious action began, it stopped.  A low hum was heard.  The seats held steady.

 

He looked out the window at the landscape below.  The buildings and cars and roads were getting smaller as the airplane soared up to the sky.  More and more a landscape of green came into sight as buildings faded away.  He looked at Jack who was looking at Amanda who was asleep. Jack leaned in, “You know, we’ve been on quite a number of these missions and can tell you to expect the unexpected around every corner.  Do not get fooled with appearances.  Trust your instincts.  In other words, I just want you to be careful.”

 

Rick could not discern if Jack was giving him a harsh warning about his physical safety, his mental safety, or both.  He wanted to ask exactly what he was saying but it was too late.  Jack had leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed and one hand covering Amanda’s.  He took one more look out the window to the fields of lush vegetation below.  All signs of human activity faded away.

 

Rick squirmed around and wondered about what he had gotten himself into.  He knew about life on the streets but never really much about his safety.  He had witnessed violence, verbal outbursts, anger, hatred, lies, and cheating, but he knew he was no better because others had witnessed such from him.  He knew he was a loner not because he did not appreciate getting together with acquaintances once in a while to talk about nothing, he knew he just had no trust for anyone.  And he knew that lack of trust came with the desperation of those around him.

 

The lack of wants dominated the streets.  Desires would go unfulfilled for days and even weeks.  The body would cry out and the mind would become obsessed with satisfying the cravings of the various addictions.  But for a lot, Rick knew there was just as many as those who were fallen for different reasons.  He did not care, however, about the reasons.  It was the result that mattered.  It just seemed that there was too much hurt, pain, agony, and misery which destroys the spirit while feeding the appetite of hopelessness.

 

Then again, he wondered, those who he saw as the rich and powerful probably were going through the same thing.  But if they were, he reasoned, their advantage was hidden away in the well groomed houses and condominium high rises, underneath fine clothing, at five star restaurants, in the leathered upholstery seats of expensive cars, and their own misery trapped between walls and floors and ceilings perhaps without anyone knowing.  Their own hurt and disappointment disguised by a display of smiles and laughter, biting sarcasm and foolish pride.  And amazingly, he thought, they walk among the exposed without being exposed.

 

Then again, he thought about the times when he was absolutely perplexed by what he discovered having been aroused from a deep sleep during the night.  At times leftovers from the high scaled restaurants nearby would be dropped beside him.  A couple of dollars now and then would be discovered on or under the sleeping bag.  Whatever was left, the person was always unknown.  No thank yous allowed for the good deeds.

 

He knew that many of the things he and his peers did were often overlooked by the law and others around them.   Nasty, personal comments attacking his worth would be thrown at him, but then countered by a stranger’s act of compassion.  Sometimes he would be roused by flashlights and a command to roll up and go, but then countered by patrols that would just pass on by.  Now, all that familiarity of the surrounding he had known, the types of people he had known, would become the unfamiliar.  A way of life he could not imagine, strange attitudes and customs, were about to be discovered.

 

Rick leaned back in the seat, folded his arms to his chest, and breathed in deep.  He looked out the window and now witnessed mountains amidst the green landscape below.  He wondered where he was and what country he was looking at.  From far above the scene looked so peaceful, but in reality he had no idea what was happening beneath the canopy of treetops.  Jack’s words came back into mind.  Whatever happens, he thought, at least have a little fun.     

 

Fidgeting kept rattling his thoughts.  He wanted so much to ask for a cup of coffee, something to eat, but his mind raced in circles.  His thoughts kept going back and forth between an exciting adventure and by the typical meltdown that would shortly follow.  He had worked in many occupations where the newness of each endeavor overshadowed the impending doom of failure for a while, yet once the newness wore off the meltdown was inevitable.

 

Somehow, someway, he figured the hope of a new beginning would be sustained and finally he would reach the idealism, the self-realization that he had some value behind the angry countenance he wore so well.

 

If I weren’t so gullible, he thought.  If I just spoke my mind and didn’t let people run all over me. If just for once I would I actually care about myself then the madness would stop.

 

He reasoned where he was going was too different of a place not to succeed.  Then again, he had tried the moving location strategy many a time only to find the same nothingness over and over again.  His thoughts were too scrambled to decide, to stand firm on the notion that this time it will be different even if he had to force the issue.  Nevertheless, he realized, like it or not it’s too late to turn back now.

 

On a Hunt

 Rick felt pangs in the pit of his stomach as the wheels hit the runway and the cabin rattled.  He peered out of the window to see buildings that resembled relics from the old west.  S few cargo planes were scattered about the tarmac.  A whirlwind of dust blowing about, driven by heated and arid gusts of wind, made it seem they had landed in a desert.

 

The plane came to a stop.  The stairs came rolling over to the cabin door.  The intense heat hit him as he stepped outside onto the rickety landing of the stairs.  Except for the immediate space surrounding the plane, the airport looked lifeless.

 

He saw Jack and Amanda talking to one of the two ground crew members.  The man pointed toward a building sitting one hundred feet or so away.  Jack motioned with a wave and Rick came running.

 

“Can you drive a stick?”

 

“Yeah,” responded Rick.

 

“All the trucks are ready to go but one of the drivers came down sick so you’ll be driving one of the water trucks.”

 

“No problem.”

 

A passing bus made a sharp and fast turn just in front of them and kicked up a cloud of dust that momentarily obscured the convoy.  “The last water truck is at the end of this line.  Just follow the one ahead of you.”

 

Rick passed each of the other trucks and heard their engines humming as they sat idle.  He hopped up into the truck’s cab, pressed hard on the clutch, turned the ignition, and the engine rumbled with life.  The truck ahead of him started rolling.  He fought the stick for first gear and began to roll.  As the convoy sped up he fought the stick further to match the speed of the movement.  The truck was slow to respond as it began to roll over bumps and dips and ruts on the weathered dirt road but eventually caught up with the rest.

 

The trucks ahead kicked up a constant cloud of dust that made it hard to see.  Rick backed off the accelerator and down shifted to increase the distance between him and the others.  Slowly the path was clear enough of dust to see the outline of the road that lay ahead.

 

He thought about how close he was now to the end of the long journey.  It still surprised him that he was here, in a foreign country with a Christian group doing the Lord’s work.  And doing it in a place he could never ever imagine before and under circumstances he could never conceive.  He smiled, eased back in the seat, hung an arm outside the window, and thought about the village somewhere ahead.  What do I