Tracie Peterson (23 page)

“I’m a marine pilot,” Erik explained. He held out his arms and made a motorlike sound.

The man nodded and spoke to his companions. One man got up and left rather quickly.

“I
bigman
. I
misinare
friend,” the older man continued.

He said a great deal more, but it was only the first part that Erik thought he understood. The man apparently had spent time with missionaries and was a person of some importance. As if to confirm this, the man looked to his companion, who produced a bag from around his waist. The older man opened the bag and brought out several articles.

The first item was a necklace. At the end of the rather simple silver chain was a medallion of sorts. He handed the piece to Erik.

Erik read, “‘Native Chieftain, by order of King George V.’”

The man nodded and handed Erik the next article. The olive drab C-ration tin rattled a bit when Erik took hold. Looking inside he saw bottle caps from a variety of soda drinks and beers. Erik looked up, uncertain as to what he should think or relate. The chief seemed unconcerned. He took the tin back almost ceremonially and handed it to the other native. In the process the man handed the chief a cloth-wrapped article. The chief very meticulously unwrapped the piece and presented it to Erik for inspection.

Erik eyed the piece, a pin with a rusting clasp. The words
Remember Pearl Harbor
were spelled out in red, white, and blue. Some of the paint had chipped away, but Erik felt a sense of connecting with home. Between the bottle caps, ration tin, and now this pin, he felt a glimmer of hope that he might once again be found. That someone might remember him and come searching.
Remember Pearl Harbor. Remember Me
.

Feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over him, Erik eased back onto the mat. The older man grunted several words, then packing up the things they had brought, he turned back to Erik.

“
Iumi ma go-go-on
.” The man got to his feet with the help of the younger man.

Erik nodded. He longed for his strength to return so that he might at least feel capable of dealing with these men. While the pin had given him hope, it had also reminded him of how far away from home he really was. Feeling despair from the memory and the illness, Erik closed his eyes and began to pray.

I don’t know what to say, God. But I’m lost and alone, and I desperately
need you to help me. Forgive me for being so stubborn. I thought I could take care of myself, but I’m starting to see just how incapable I am. Here it is almost Christmas
. . . Then again, maybe Christmas had already passed him by. He had no idea what the date might be. He seriously doubted these natives even worried about such things.

He heard the rain begin to fall. In the dry confines of the hut, the rain sounded almost comforting. The noise lulled him to sleep, and as he passed into a state of dreams, Erik again heard familiar singing. What was that song? The tune seemed like one he knew, but he just couldn’t place it.
God
, he prayed,
just give me a sign. Please just show me that I haven’t pushed you too far away. That my stubbornness hasn’t caused you to desert me. Please, Father—just a sign to let me know you remember me
.

Erik was roused from his sleep by the same native who had first communicated with him. How long had he slept? What day was it? Blurry-eyed, Erik sat up and tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He felt remarkably better and very hungry.

“Areek,” the man said, grinning from ear to ear.

Erik nodded. “And you’re Kobu,” he remembered.

“Ya, me Kobu.” The man went to the door of the hut and brought a stack of folded articles. Erik immediately recognized the items as his uniform and underclothes. “You make dressed.”

Erik eyed him suspiciously as he took hold of the clothes. “You want me to get dressed? Why?”

Kobu nodded, not understanding that Erik was questioning him. Erik tried again. “Why do you want me to put this on?”

“No worry,” the man said. “You make dressed.” Kobu made a rather hurried exit from the hut, leaving Erik to wonder what was happening.

Deciding he’d rather face his fate in his own clothes, Erik quickly dressed. He felt surprisingly good. The rash on his hands and arms had faded, no doubt thanks to the ointment he’d been bathed in. His bruises and scrapes had healed up rather nicely, and even his foot didn’t seem to hurt quite so badly, although the frightening red streaks were still evident on his leg. Apparently these people knew something of medicine—at least jungle medicine. Perhaps he wasn’t
in quite as much danger as he had presumed.

As Erik secured his belt, Kobu returned, bringing with him Erik’s boots and a bundled cloth. Placing these things at Erik’s feet, Kobu smiled again. “
Blong
you.”

“Yes, but I can’t stand on this foot and I know I’ll never get the boot over the bandage,” he said as if the man could understand everything he said.

“You no worry,” he said. He went to the door and came back with a litter and three other men. “We carry you.”

Erik didn’t know what else to do. Nodding in agreement he pulled on the one boot and laced it tight. Next, he opened the bundle. His knife, gun, holster, and extra rounds were neatly awaiting his attention. Apparently these natives saw him as no threat. Maybe he’d do well to think of them in the same way.

Erik secured his gun and holster, then attached the sheathed knife and extra rounds to his belt. For whatever it was worth, he was dressed and ready. Picking up his spare boot, he looked to Kobu for help as to what he should do next.

Kobu spoke to his companions while motioning at Erik. Apparently something of great importance was happening and they were already running late. Erik was helped onto the litter, and without so much as a word, the men hoisted him into the air and out the door.

It was the first time Erik had been outside of the hut since coming to the village. There were many other grass huts representing other families and all of these ran in a semicircle around a large center clearing. In the middle a big tank, the type used for watering livestock, had been positioned. Erik had no idea where the tank must have come from but it looked to hold water.

Kobu lead them past the tank and clearing and through a narrow path between two huts. Directly in front of them another clearing opened before them. Here an assembly of natives lined up on either side of a long, festive-looking arrangement of food. Grass mats had been spread on the ground between them, and pots and bowls of every kind were filled and placed in preparation of a great feast.

The chief who’d spoken to Erik earlier sat at the head of the table, surrounded by several important-looking men. He motioned to Kobu, and Erik found himself and the litter settled into position beside this gathering. Still uncertain as to what was happening, Erik
did as he was instructed. With a shaky weakness washing over him and leaving him in a cold sweat, Erik sat up. His foot throbbed painfully. He supposed he must have hurt it when he fell into the river.

The chief clapped his hands and without further warning, a group of children appeared from the brush. They sang a rousing chorus, giggling and laughing as they went. Erik appreciated the fun they appeared to be having and for the first time in a long time he smiled.

Then to Erik’s amazement, while the kids continued to sing, several adult men came in a procession bearing an ornate wooden cross. The cross was intricately carved with images of sharks and people. Erik watched as they secured the piece into a hole in the ground. Rocks were positioned around the wooden base to keep the cross firmly in place. Next came a group of women. Erik blushed and glanced away. The women weren’t wearing anything from the waist up. The only thing they had to cover their breasts, in fact, were multiple necklaces. The women danced and sang, and Erik felt compelled to watch only when Kobu nudged him and motioned toward the group. While they danced, several men tied palm fronds all over the cross. When this had been finished, the women pulled strands of shell and coral from around their necks and used them to decorate the palm fronds.

After this was completed the women took their places beside the others. Erik was completely fascinated by the festivities. He found himself caught up in the moment, and when the children began to sing the unmistakable melody of “Silent Night,” Erik began to see the celebration for what it was. They were celebrating Christmas! They’d brought out the cross of Christ and decorated it as if it were a Christmas tree.

Before he could say anything to Kobu to confirm this, a processional of several native men brought an ornate box and laid it at the feet of the chief. The box looked to be wood, inlaid with gold. The men sat down and a hush fell over the crowd as the chief reached to open the box.

With great awe and reverence the people watched. Erik felt a sense of elation as the man drew out a black book. Holding it up, Erik easily recognized the book. A Bible. Erik wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. God had sent him a sign. There could be no doubting it.
God did remember him! God had heard him!

The chief looked to Erik and nodded. Then to Erik’s surprise he handed Erik the Bible. “You read.”

Erik looked at the group of eager faces, then returned his glance at the chief. “You want me to read?”

“Ya,” the man said in a clipped tone. “You read us Krismas, Jisas,
nabawan pikinini blong
God.”

Erik understood. He didn’t know how, but he understood. They wanted him to read about Jesus. They wanted him to read the Christmas story. He nodded and smiled. Turning the pages to the second chapter of Luke, he cleared his throat.

“‘And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed.’” The familiar words warmed Erik’s heart. God cared. He really cared. He’d not only given Erik a sign, He’d given him Christmas as well.

He continued reading, wondering if the people understood. They smiled and nodded and all Erik could imagine was that someone before him had shared these same words and traditions. They had taken what they had to work with and had created their own Christmas celebration to honor God’s Son.

He concluded the reading, then handed the Bible back to the chief. “Merry Christmas,” Erik said with a smile.

The chief nodded and the children began to sing again. This time Erik recognized the song and began to sing with them. “‘Adeste Fideles, laeti triumphantes . . . ’”
Oh come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant
. A feeling of pure joy and hope coursed through Erik’s soul as the song ended and the feasting began.

“G’day, mate. Semper Fi, Yank,” came the unmistakable sound of an Australian accent.

Erik looked up to see a white man making his way into the camp. Several natives accompanied him and quickly left his side to take their place at the makeshift table.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Erik said, realizing his rescue had come.

“I’m a coast watcher. I’m always on the lookout for lost souls.” The blond-haired man pushed back his hat and grinned. “I’ve been lookin’ for ya since that dogfight two weeks ago.”

Erik looked at the man in surprise. “You saw my dogfight?”

“Aye. It was somethin’ else. I figured ya to be a goner, then I saw the chute open. Knew ya had to be here someplace. The chief fetched me over. After ya eat, we can head back.”

“Do you have a radio to contact someone for me?” Erik asked.

“Better ’an that,” the man replied. “I have the boat to take ya to Brisbane. They’ll fix ya up proper-like and then send ya back into the war.” He grinned at Erik. “We’ll just tell everyone ya’ve been on holiday.”

Erik laughed at this. “I don’t know that I’d call it that, but I’m happy to go wherever you’ll take me.”

“Then eat up, fella. We’ll head out after the party’s over.”

Erik nodded and accepted a bowl from Kobu. He smiled at the man and thanked him. Then without even thinking about it, he raised his bowl to heaven. “Thank you, God. Thank you for remembering me and thank you for sending your Son. Merry Christmas.”

The natives mimicked him in raising their bowls. Perhaps they thought this to be some strange Christmas tradition from America. Either way, it connected them to one another—to Erik. They were brothers and sisters who gathered at a birthday party for the King of Kings.