Eugene chuckled. “Joan of Arc helped the king of France win back his throne,” he said.
Patrick looked at her picture. “She’s wearing armor!” he said. “And I didn’t know they made girl saints.”
Eugene said, “I don’t think Mr. Whittaker visited her recently. There’s already an Imagination Station adventure that tells Joan’s story. He wouldn’t need a new one.”
“I forgot about Saint Patrick of Ireland,” Patrick said. “I met him on an adventure too. So cross him off the list.” He thought a moment. “What about that guy with the birds on his shoulder? I saw a statue of him.”
“Yes!” Eugene said. “Saint Francis. He fought in the Crusades.”
“That’s dangerous!” Patrick shouted.
Eugene began researching about Saint Francis. The keyboard clicked as he typed.
Patrick said, “But don’t forget what Connie said. Was there a quarter of a century or another word like it? Search for the words ‘a quarter.’ ”
Eugene’s fingers froze above the keyboard. “Say that again,” he said. “Fast.”
“A quarter,” Patrick blurted.
“Faster,” Eugene said.
“A quarter, a quarter, a quarter!” Patrick cried. “I get it now!”
Eugene stood up. Then he turned to face Patrick.
“Ecuador!” they said at the same time.
Dr. Silva crawled toward his rifle.
Just as he moved, a young Auca warrior stepped out of the bushes.
“Watch out!” Beth shouted.
The Auca grabbed the rifle barrel. The weapon slid away from Dr. Silva’s grasp.
“Oh, blast it!” Dr. Silva said.
Beth moved closer to Dr. Silva. She waited while he got to his feet.
The Auca men made no move toward them. They just stood there, staring. Their spears and blowguns weren’t pointed at Beth or Dr. Silva.
“We’re not dead yet,” Beth said. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Dr. Silva said. He brushed wet leaves off his pants. “Maybe they think we have help. Does your cousin carry a gun or a rifle?”
“Patrick is in elementary school,” she said.
Dr. Silva laughed.
Beth didn’t think it was a happy sound.
She leaned against his side. “Stay close to me,” she whispered. “Maybe they won’t kill children. Especially not a young girl.”
The American man snorted. But he draped his arm across Beth’s shoulders anyway.
“Don’t count on mercy from this lot,” he said.
Eugene’s Adventure
Patrick asked Eugene, “Is there a great saint from Ecuador?”
Eugene gasped. “There is someone. But not a saint in the way we were thinking,” he said.
“Then why did Mr. Whittaker want to meet him?” Patrick said.
Eugene sat down. “It’s a sad story,” he said. “I don’t have time to tell it. I need to program it.”
He went to the car-like Imagination Station.
“Oh,” Patrick said, “Beth.” He felt guilty. For a few minutes he had been focused only on finding the saint.
“Yes, Beth,” Eugene said. “It’s imperative that I go and assist her.” He opened the trunk and fiddled with a panel hidden inside. Then he slammed it shut.
“Uh-uh,” Patrick said. He shook his head. “You have to stay here. What if something goes wrong again?”
“It’s my responsibility and, therefore, my adventure,” Eugene said. “I say we both go. And I’ll bring this with me.” He motioned to the laptop and picked it up.
Patrick nodded. He sat down in one of the car seats. “Are you sure?”
Eugene sat down on the other seat. “No,” he said. “But it’s the only way I can think of to help Beth. And keep track of you!”
Suddenly Eugene’s mood brightened. “I know,” he said. “I can put the Imagination Station in lockdown mode.”
Eugene shut his door.
Patrick closed his door too.
They were snug inside the car.
“What does ‘lockdown mode’ mean?” Patrick asked.
“Mr. Whittaker programmed this first Imagination Station for the government,” Eugene said. “The project was . . . canceled. But it had some interesting features. No one could interfere with top-secret or life-changing events. That’s lockdown mode.”
Eugene opened the glove box. He pulled out several pairs of gloves: knit ones, leather ones, and one pair of mittens that had red buttons sewn on for decoration. He reached inside again.
Patrick heard a soft thud as if a lever had been released.
Then Eugene put the gloves back inside and closed the box.
“Let’s go,” Patrick said. He turned the steering wheel. The windshield immediately began to spin. Swirls of color circled his eyes like a kaleidoscope.
A few seconds passed. Patrick heard a high-pitched whistle. Then Eugene shouted, “Stop the train! Stop the train!”
Now Patrick couldn’t see or hear anything else. He jerked on the wheel, but nothing changed. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something had gone very wrong.
The Yellow Plane
The Aucas had taken Beth and Dr. Silva to their village.
Their long houses were made of tree trunks and palm branches.
Beth and Dr. Silva waited inside one of the houses. An Auca warrior stood at each entrance.
“At least we have food,” Beth said to Dr. Silva.
The guard had given her a plain wooden bowl. It was filled with papaya slices.
She picked up a slice. She scooped away the black seeds and took a bite.
“They’re just trying to keep us healthy,” Dr. Silva said. “They will torture us later.”
“I thought you said the Aucas killed on the spot,” Beth said. Papaya juice dripped down her chin. She wiped it off with the back of her hand.
“They do,” Dr. Silva said. “Something’s not right.” He paced from wall to wall.
Hammocks and an old trunk were the only things inside the house. Beth put the bowl on the trunk.
The teen Auca entered. He carried the white bag that Dr. Silva had tripped over. He plopped it down and then left the house.
Beth looked at the small bag the Imagination Station had left. The fabric and rope were handmade. She felt sure it contained the gifts for the Pompeii adventure. The Imagination Station was giving out the wrong gifts for the wrong adventures.
“That was nice of him,” Beth said.
Dr. Silva picked up the bag. “It’s a trick,” he said.
He peered inside and then reached into the small bag. He pulled out a black mask. It looked like a Halloween mask for a bug costume.
“Oh,” Beth said. “I think the mask is mine. I needed it . . . on vacation a few days ago.”
“Oh?” Dr. Silva asked. His eyes narrowed. “Were you in a war zone? That’s a military-grade gas mask. I’ve never seen one this advanced.”
“Well,” Beth said, “it’s always nice to be prepared.” She flashed a bright smile.
Dr. Silva peeked into the little bag. “If the bag is yours, tell me what else is inside.”
It was a challenge.
Beth hesitated. The botanist seemed to distrust her. What would Mr. Whittaker have sent her?
“A map . . .” she said, guessing.
Dr. Silva pulled out a piece of parchment. He whistled. “This looks ancient,” he said. He unrolled the thick paper. “The writing is in Latin.”
He looked at Beth. “What are you doing with a priceless historic map?” he asked.
Beth gulped. What could she tell him?
The Imagination Station became very still. The windshield was dark.
Patrick looked to his side. The seat next to him was empty. Eugene was gone!
What’s happening? Patrick wondered. Has Eugene gone back to Whit’s End? Why did he shout about a train?
Suddenly the car’s windshield cleared. Patrick could see out.
/> The machine had landed near a river. The water was clear. White sandbars bordered the water. Thick, tall trees stretched ahead as far as Patrick could see. Ecuador was beautiful.
He wanted to look for Beth and Eugene. He pulled on the door handle. It wouldn’t move. He leaned his shoulder against the door. Nothing. He tried rolling down the window. It held fast.
Something outside captured his attention. He looked up.
A small, yellow plane flew above the river. It landed on a sandbar very near the Imagination Station.
Several young men got out of the plane. Their hair was short. Most of them wore white T-shirts and plain tan pants.
One of them was wearing jeans. He saw Patrick and waved.
Patrick waved back.
“History of missions, Operation Auca,” a voice from inside the car said. The tone sounded like a newsman’s. “The setting is the rain forest of Ecuador.”
Patrick looked at the ceiling of the car Imagination Station. Three small speakers were almost hidden in the lining.
“The year is 1956,” the speakers blared. “The young missionary men are Peter Fleming, Roger Youderian, Ed McCully, Jim Elliot, and Nate Saint.”
“He’s the saint!” Patrick shouted. “This is it! This is where Mr. Whittaker went!”
The voice said, “On the shore of Palm Beach, the men meet several members of an Auca clan.
“The missionaries exchange gifts with the Aucas. They communicate with hand motions. The missionaries believe the clan will be peaceful. Operation Auca’s goal is to present the gospel to this people group.”
Patrick wanted out of the car. He tried pulling on the steering wheel. It wouldn’t budge. He tried opening the glove box. It was shut tight.
“The five martyrs . . .” the speaker said.
“Martyrs!” Patrick screamed. “That means they died! No! I have to save them! This lockdown mode stinks.”
He pounded on the windshield. The man who waved to him wasn’t looking. He was walking toward two women with long, black hair. They had come from the jungle. They looked as if they could be Aucas.
“No!” shouted Patrick once more.
“The five martyrs die on January 8,” the speakers announced and then went silent. The windshield started to spin. Bright colors swirled.
Patrick was forced into his seat. This adventure was over.
Nemo
“Well,” Dr. Silva said, “What about the map?”
Beth told the truth. “It belongs to a friend of mine,” she said. “He likes studying active volcanoes. The mask was to protect against the poisonous gases.”
“Volcano?” he said and shook his head. “You are very lost. The nearest active volcano in Ecuador is hundreds of miles west.”
Dr. Silva shook out the white bag.
Six bone-shaped biscuits fell out. They landed on the ground and broke into crumbs.
Dr. Silva looked puzzled. “There aren’t any dogs around here either,” he said.
Suddenly she heard the Auca men shouting. It sounded like, “Menye! Menye!”
Beth ran to the edge of the house and looked out. Several Aucas rushed into the jungle with spears.
But one of the guards stayed at the hut’s entrance. He stood spear in hand, strong and silent.
The car-like Imagination Station stopped again.
Patrick watched, amazed, as the door opened by itself. He quickly left the car.
He was in a similar jungle. But he stood in a clearing, and there was no river.
Not far away was a large, white two-story house. A deck stretched along one side. It had concrete bricks underneath to keep it lifted off the ground.
Turning, Patrick saw an even larger barn-like building. It was near a long strip of cleared land. He wondered what it was for.
A mechanical buzzing noise came from above.
Patrick looked up, hoping to see the yellow plane. But this plane was white. And it was coming straight toward him.
The doctor came over and stood behind Beth.
“Now’s our chance,” he said.
“Chance for what?” Beth asked.
“Most of the Aucas have left,” he said. “There’s only one guard now. We can make a run for it.”
Beth shook her head. “He’ll track us,” she said.
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Dr. Silva said.
The Auca guard moved toward them. The botanist backed into the hut. He sat next to the trunk.
Beth stood her ground. She couldn’t read the Auca’s expression. Is he worried? Is he angry?
The guard started to draw in the sand with his spear. He looked at Beth and started to talk. His words had a lot of o and b and k sounds.
Beth smiled and nodded.
He smiled and nodded too. Then he began to draw again.
Beth couldn’t tell what the picture was. Is it a map? she wondered.
Beth turned and walked slowly into the hut.
“What was he trying to tell you?” Dr. Silva asked.
“Something very strange,” Beth said. “I think he wants to find Nemo!”
The White Plane
Patrick ran toward the house, away from the cleared area.
The small, white plane approached the ground. It had three wheels. Two wheels were in the front. One was at the back.
The engine buzz was loud. Patrick covered his ears with both hands.
The plane’s front wheels hit the dirt runway. There was a screeching sound. The plane’s tail bounced and landed again. Then the plane rolled a few hundred yards to a stop.
The engine was off, but the propeller kept spinning slowly.
Patrick now ran toward the plane. He hoped Beth would be on board.
A little door on the side of the plane opened. An older, blond boy in shorts jumped out. His white canvas tennis shoes hit the ground. He ran and came straight toward Patrick.
Patrick slowed, waiting for the boy to join him.
“I’m Steve!” the boy said. “Who are you?”
Beth looked at the dog biscuit pieces on the ground. A mass of reddish ants swarmed over the broken bits. A few of the ants carried crumbs in their tiny jaws.
Beth shuddered, hoping the ants wouldn’t sting her. She couldn’t stand insects.
Dr. Silva didn’t seem to be bothered by the ants. He motioned for Beth to join him at the back of the house.
“Our best chance at escape is now. I have to fight off only one Auca,” he whispered. “I’m going to run out the back entrance. The guard will probably chase me. Then you run the other way. Hide in the jungle until it’s safe.”
“How will I find you?” Beth asked.
Dr. Silva was silent for a while. He seemed to be thinking.
“My camp is east of here,” he said finally. “Not far from where we met. It’s near a stream. Six fallen trees form a small bridge. Look for that.”
“I don’t think I can find it easily,” Beth said. “Everything in the jungle looks the same to me.”
“I can draw you a map,” he said. “There may be paper in here.” Dr. Silva opened the little trunk.
They looked inside it.
“Blouses and skirts?” Beth said.
“This is what Ecuadorian women wear,” Dr. Silva said.
Beth lifted out a pretty, light-blue shirt.
“Why do you think these are here?” Beth asked. “The Aucas don’t wear these kind of clothes.”
“Stolen,” Dr. Silva said. He took out all the other clothes. A stack of books and papers were at the bottom of the trunk.
Beth smiled when she saw the top book. “It’s a Bible,” she said. “May I see it?”
Dr. Silva handed her the thin black Bible. It had gold on the edges of the pages.
Beth opened the front cover. “It belongs to someone named Rachel,” she said.
She looked at Dr. Silva. He was frowning.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He held up some papers to answer her. They were pages f
rom an old magazine. They had black-and-white photos on them.
Beth recognized one photo of an Auca man. He looked exactly like one of the men who had brought her to the hut.
Beth gasped. “Who are those women in the other photo?” Beth asked.
“The wives of five dead missionaries,” Dr. Silva said.
“What happened to their husbands?” Beth asked.
“The men met with our Aucas,” Dr. Silva said. “That was nine years ago, in 1956.”
He dropped the papers back into the trunk. “I’m leaving now,” he said. He slammed the trunk’s lid. “Get safe. I’ll find you by the bridge.”
Beth watched Dr. Silva slip out the back of the hut. She shivered. She peered out of the grass house. She was alone with an Auca killer. And now he had Dr. Silva’s rifle.
The Cockroach
The boy named Steve looked about thirteen. He wore jeans and a plaid shirt.
Patrick stuck out his right hand. “I’m Patrick,” he said.
Steve grabbed Patrick’s hand and shook it.
“Are you a missionary kid too?” Steve asked.
Patrick hesitated. He was a kid. And he was a missionary, because he knew it was important to share the Bible stories about Jesus.
“Yes,” Patrick said at last. “I’m a missionary kid. And I need your help.”
A woman got out of the plane. She came to join them.
She had a kind, round face and wore wire-rimmed glasses. Her light-brown hair had some gray hairs mixed in. It was pulled back and knotted at the back of her head.
Steve turned toward her. “Aunt Rachel,” he said, “this is Patrick. He needs our help.”
Rachel’s eyebrows rose. She looked concerned.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked. “How can Steve and I help?”
Patrick decided not to mention Eugene. He knew Eugene was on an adventure in a different time and place.
But he told them about Beth. He said she was lost in the jungle. He thought she might be near the Aucas’ village.
“That’s not good,” Rachel said. “Many clans of the Aucas . . .” She paused. “They call themselves Waodani. Many Waodani clans are violent.”
In Fear of the Spear Page 2