Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10)

by David B. Smith

  The young woman glanced at him.

  “I mean, being a mom and everything is sure a big job. But God will help you to do it right. Really.”

  The redhead’s expression sobered. “Yeah.” She studied him. “Thanks.”

  The sun was still high in the sky as he drove home after work. Even at 5:30 the temperature was just beginning to dip down into the low eighties. Bucky flipped on the radio to catch the early innings of the Giants’ east coast game with the Nationals.

  “After one - and - a - half, it’s two to nothing, D.C.” Bucky grimaced at the score.

  As the sporty white Toyota pulled up at the curb on Woodman Avenue, he saw Rachel Marie dart out of the garage, a big paper sack over her head. She ran up to the passenger side and pressed against the window. “Boo!”

  “Hey, Squirt-o,” he teased, climbing out of the little car. “Are you trying to scare me?”

  “Yep.” The eight - year - old came around the car and grabbed onto his leg. “There, I’m not going to let go.”

  “Help! I’ve got a tumor!” Bucky staggered up the sidewalk, pretending to shake his little sister loose. “I can’t get rid of her.”

  Rachel Marie squealed with delight as he clumped into the living room. “Mom! There’s a rumor – that I’ve got a tumor.” It was an old Stone family joke.

  “A sixty-five-pound tumor?”

  “Feels more like 165,” Bucky complained with a mock scowl on his face. “A really fat disgusting tumor. You better take me in for surgery.”

  “No!” Rachel Marie released her grasp. “Don’t chop me off!”

  “We’ve got a visitor,” Mom smiled, motioning her son into the family room.

  “Pastor Jensen. Hey!” Bucky pulled his sister to her feet and gave her bottom a healthy swat. “I didn’t see your car out front.”

  “Well, there was a big delivery truck there when I got here, so I parked across the street.”

  The casually-dressed minister shook hands with Bucky before sitting back down. “How’s work?”

  “Pretty good.” The teenage boy managed a grin. “Full-time days are kind of long sometimes. But the pay’s good.”

  “Yes, that was a real opportunity the Lord gave you.” The pastor smiled his thanks as Bucky’s mom brought a couple of sodas in for them. He took a long sip. “Boy, that’s good and cold.” Then he drained the can and set it down. “How’s Dan getting along?”

  “Good.”

  “You fellows about halfway through your Bible lessons?”

  “Yeah.” Bucky pondered. “We’re just getting to that stuff on the character of Jesus.”

  Pastor Jensen nodded, pleased. He reached down and rubbed at a smudge on his shoe before continuing. “Listen, Bucky, I had a call today from a friend of mine. His name’s Gordon, and he’s just come on here at the regional office. He’s helping to coordinate a mission volunteer group here in Northern California.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh, these teams of young people go out for a couple of weeks and help build a church or mission school in a foreign country. It’s a great experience and the kids who go really have a fantastic time.”

  Bucky felt a tingle of interest. “Is he planning a trip somewhere?”

  The pastor grinned. “Well, that’s just it. He’s working on one for this August, and he needed an extra name or two. I told him I thought I knew of one.”

  The youth set down his drink, sitting up straighter. “You’re kidding. Me?”

  “You got it.”

  “Where are they going to go?”

  Pastor Jensen hesitated for a minute, a mysterious smile on his face. “Well, I’ll tell you something. This is the trip of all trips. He’s putting a group of kids together to go clear around the world to Asia. Gordon wants to build a dormitory in northern Thailand.”

  “Where?”

  Chapter Two: Mission Trip?

  The pastor chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I said when I first heard about it. But I’ll tell you, this is the chance of a lifetime, Buck.”

  Bucky shook his head. “I just sort of know where Thailand even is. Isn’t it by Vietnam and everything?”

  “Pretty close. Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Kampuchea – what used to be Cambodia – Vietnam. All those countries are near each other.”

  “Is it safe?”

  The older man nodded. “Gordon tells me Thailand and Malaysia have been the two countries in that region to really remain stable for a long, long time. For some reason Communism just never took hold there.”

  “How long does it take to get there?”

  “Oh, it’s a looooong plane ride,” Pastor Jensen grinned. “Twenty-some hours. Plus you lose a day going over, then you get it back coming home.”

  “When are they going?” Bucky was bursting with questions.

  “Last two weeks of August. You’d get back just before school started.” He hesitated. “You still going to high school this fall?”

  “I guess.” The teenage boy glanced upstairs to where he knew Dad was working. “Last I heard.”

  Pastor Jensen studied the tall youth carefully. “If you’re interested, why don’t we get your folks in here and give them the scoop?” He grinned. “And I get the impression you’re interested!”

  “Boy, I sure am!” Bucky got to his feet. “It sounds awesome. Mom?” Going over to the stairway, he climbed up to the first landing. “Dad?”

  A minute later the four of them sat in the family room. Mr. Stone shook hands with Pastor Jensen. “Nice to see you again.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Phil.” Pastor Jensen, always good with names, remembered easily. Quickly he explained the volunteer mission program to the Stones.

  “What’s this cost?” Dad gave his son a little punch on the arm.

  The pastor looked down at a folder he had pulled from his pocket. “Well, the bottom line is this. Each young person who goes is expected to raise $1350. That includes airfare and a round-trip train ticket from Bangkok to a town called Chiang Mai. The academy they’re going to is about thirty miles from there.” He laughed. “Gordon tells me it’s really out in the sticks.”

  Dad furrowed his brow. “Thirteen fifty? I mean, that’s a lot of money, sure. But you can’t fly out to Thailand for that.”

  “You’re right,” Pastor Jensen hastened. “I guess they’ve negotiated an exceptional deal with the airline going over, plus the state organization is kicking in a little bit to get the program started.”

  “Are we expected to come up with the $1350 ourselves,” Mom wanted to know.

  “No.” The pastor shook his head emphatically. “In fact, that’s exactly what we don’t want. The idea is to raise the money as a church. And, of course, if relatives and people like that want to chip in, that’s helpful too.”

  Bucky thought hard. “What kind of kids go on these trips?”

  “That’s what I think is so great. They’re all super young people, all Christians.” Pastor Jensen caught himself as he glanced over at Mr. Stone. “I mean, it’d give you a chance to meet more guys” – he smiled – “and girls who have some of the same religious background you do, Buck.”

  The boy mulled over the last statement. The past two years had been hard, with few opportunities to really socialize in a way consistent with his born-again beliefs. Of course, there was Sam. And now Dan. But meeting good Christian girls had been a near impossibility. A vision of Deirdre with her stunning good looks – and disdainful rejection of God’s kingdom – jolted him back to reality.

  “Do these programs always go clear around the world?” he asked.

  The minister shook his head. “No, I think this is the first time. The last few years they’ve usually gone down to places like Honduras or other Central American countries. I guess most of the time they all get together in Miami, Florida, and head out from there. So this is kind of new.”

  Dad’s face was thoughtful. “Are the kids looked after pretty good? I mean, I know Bucky’s able to ta
ke care of himself. Still . . .”

  “Oh, sure. This friend of mine, Gordon – well, Pastor Humboldt – he’ll be with them the whole way. And like I said, where they’re going is pretty safe territory. We’ve had a good mission program there for years.”

  “What exactly would we be doing?” Bucky wondered.

  “From what I understand, building a new girls’ dormitory at a little academy the Christians run out in the hill country. I’m not sure how you say it: Maetang.” He stumbled over the foreign name.

  Mr. Stone scratched his head. “North Thailand. That’s opium territory,” he observed. “Gangs have run heroin out of there for years.”

  The pastor nodded. “Gordon tells me that’s quite a ways away from where the academy is. Those opium tribes are still up there, but I guess they stay located in one little sector and just don’t ever come out. Apparently that’s not a worry.”

  “What’s it like weather-wise?” Bucky inquired.

  “That I don’t know. Hot, I’m sure. ‘Specially in August. I imagine it’ll be shorts and tank tops the whole time.”

  “Where would we sleep and everything? And eat?”

  Pastor Jensen held up both hands in mock surrender. “I give up!” He shook his head. “Sorry I don’t know more about this, folks. I imagine they’ll just have you stay in one of the other dorms or classrooms or something. Sleeping bags and stuff. And from what I know of those countries, it’s probably rice for breakfast, rice for lunch, and rice for dinner. So I hope you like the stuff, Bucky.”

  A shrug. “Sure. I guess. I can get along.”

  The man got to his feet. “Well, I really need to let Gordon know by next week, so why don’t you talk it over and maybe let me know what you think this weekend at church?”

  “That sounds good.” Mom came over and gave her son a squeeze. “That’s an awful long way from home, Bucky.”

  “I know, but I want to go.” He couldn’t hide his excitement.

  “Sounds like you’ve found your man,” Dad observed to the pastor.

  “I sure hope so. Like I said, let me know.” Jensen shook hands with the father and son. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  Bucky walked with his pastor to the front door. “And keep up the good work with those Bible studies,” the man said before leaving. “I’m really proud of you.”

  The next evening he and Dan discussed the trip in between Bible verses. “Man, that is one pistol-hot place,” the older student grunted. “You sure you want to go packin’ way over there?”

  “For sure.” Bucky leaned back in his chair. “Two weeks? Are you kidding? It’s gonna be great.”

  “I don’t know.” His stocky friend laughed. “That’s a long time away from food made in the good old U.S.A.”

  “You ought to come, too.”

  Dan cocked his head, thinking. “Boy, I don’t know. Toting concrete blocks out in the jungle?”

  “Come on. It’d be great.”

  Dan was noncommittal. “I’ll think about it.” Then he laughed. “But not very hard.”

  Bucky flipped his Bible back open. “Well, at least let’s finish this up before it gets dark. I’m gonna squish you at one - on - one.”

  Carefully the two boys studied the time prophecies pointing forward to the birth of Jesus. “Now see?” Bucky pointed. “The Old Testament says he’d be born in Bethlehem . . . and here, sure enough he does. He’d be born of a virgin – see it right here in Isaiah. And then Matthew and Luke confirm the same thing. That he’d be from the tribe of Judah: check. That he’d bear all of our sins. That came true.”

  Dan seemed impressed. “Man, I never knew that the two Testaments linked up so tight. That’s incredible.”

  “I know. And some of these prophecies in the Old Testament times were written something like seven hundred years before they all came true.”

  “Huh.” Dad doodled with his pencil, considering what the two guys had studied. “And so . . .”

  Bucky grinned. “It just helps us to believe that the Word of God is true,” he said simply. “Man, people are really hammering on Scripture these days, attacking it. Saying it’s just a bunch of folklore or urban legends. That the resurrection of Christ never happened. I was reading the other day, and some scientist said he figured that the body of Jesus just got eaten by some wild dogs the next day and that the disciples made up the whole business about him coming out of the tomb.”

  “I saw that too!” Dan sat up straight. “It was in the paper!”

  “See there? But when all of these prophecies about Jesus come true, and really, right on the dot, that helps us to refute those arguments. And . . .” He hesitated. “I guess all of us have doubts come into our minds sometimes. I know I do.”

  Dan’s face was sober. “So it’s not just me?”

  “No way. It’s tough to always believe, and Satan really bombards us with questions we don’t know the answers to. But when we study stuff like this, it helps to remind us that this is God’s book, and that God can take care of his book.”

  The older student wrinkled up his forehead. “I don’t get that. What do you mean, ‘he takes care of his book’?”

  “He safeguards it,” Bucky responded. “I mean, how did it get here? He inspired his chosen men to write it. This is a message sent by God into their mind, and they wrote it down. So he’s able to make sure that it’s true.”

  “Huh.” Dan seemed content with that. “You really get into this stuff, don’t you?”

  Bucky grinned, toying with his own pencil. “Well, when something works out as . . . tight as God’s prophecies do, yeah, it makes me feel good about trusting God. I’ll admit it.”

  Dan scribbled down the final answer on his paper. “All right, Rev,” he teased. “You’ve sold me. Now, come on, let’s shoot some hoops. We’ve got a varsity team to make.”

  The taller boy stretched himself to his full six - foot - four height. “All right!”

  The two drove themselves for a hard half hour. Despite a very slight soreness in his still recovering arm, Bucky’s skill around the basket had only faded a little bit. “Not bad!” Dan grunted, as Bucky whirled past him for an easy four-foot jump shot.

  Bucky plucked the ball out of the air on its way through the net and flipped it to Dan. “You really think we can make varsity this fall?”

  “I dunno. Hope so.” Dan dribbled to the edge of the driveway and sighted for a long one. The ball teetered on the rim before falling off to the right. The older boy growled in exasperation.

  “If you’d grow about two more inches, you’d have a shot at varsity center,” he told Bucky. “‘Cept I think you’ve about stopped, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Bucky sighed. “Six-four. That’s about it.” He tossed the ball over into the grass and sank down to rest on the lawn. “Old Brayshaw’s gotta be thrilled over having two Jesus freaks on the same team.”

  • • • • •

  The air-conditioned interior of the mall felt good as Bucky and Rachel Marie walked from store to store the next evening. “Aren’t you about done with your ice cream?” he asked.

  “Uh huh.” She took one last bite and wiped her chubby hands on her pink pants. “Thank you, Bucky.”

  “You’re welcome, baby.” He gave his little sister a grin. “My treat.”

  She reached up and took his hand. The sticky remains of the cone clung to his skin. “What are we going to get for Mommy?”

  “Well, you’re supposed to be looking,” he reminded. “Shall we go in there?”

  The pair walked into the Woolworth discount store to find an inexpensive birthday gift. “I like these!” Rachel Marie exclaimed, heading toward a long rack of teddy bears.

  “Silly, we’re buying something Mommy would like, not you.”

  “She’d like these,” the little girl protested.

  “No way. Come on, don’t be a doofus. Help me find something she’d like.”

  “Well, Mr. Stone,” a husky voice purred behind him. “And Miss
Stone.”

  Bucky didn’t need to even turn around. “Deirdre!”

  The blonde batted her eyelashes at him with her trademark smile. “So this is your new woman?”

  “Yeah. My sister Rachel Marie.” He coughed nervously. “This is Deirdre. Remember from last year?”

  “Uh huh.” Bucky’s sister was unimpressed. “Come on, Bucky.”

  The teenage boy gave Deirdre a resigned look. “Shopping for my mom,” he murmured.

  “That’s nice.” She gave her short skirt a tug. “What have you been up to?”

  Bucky’s pulse was still racing unevenly. Deirdre was just too gorgeous to pass up! He thought back to the previous school year’s painful romance. “Oh, not much,” he replied lamely. “Still working at the bank. Oh, I might be going over to Asia in August.”

  “Wow! Really? Where to?”

  “Bangkok. It’s a church-building trip.” The comment tumbled out before he could catch himself.

  At the mention of church, the blonde’s coolness returned. “So you’re off to mission lands, huh? I thought maybe you were just going sightseeing.”

  Rachel Marie tugged at his hand again. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of a neat thing. Actually, ‘bout fifteen kids going to Thailand to help this school build a dormitory.” He began to follow his little sister toward the back of the store.

  “Have fun.” Deirdre’s voice was even.

  As his sister tugged him out of her sight, he glanced back at the slim girl.

  Chapter Three: Permission to Be Baptized

  The last notes of the quartet faded away in the vespers twilight. The people in the half-filled church murmured enthusiastic “Amen”s as three of the members sat down.

  Mr. Sawyer, the big bass, remained by the microphone for just a minute. “I just want to encourage all of you here to give a good gift for Bucky’s trip,” he added. “When he goes out to Thailand to help build that dormitory, he’ll be doing it for all of us. This is our mission project, and I know this experience will be a real blessing for him.”

  Pastor Jensen walked up to the platform and shook hands with the singer. “Thanks, Ralph. And thanks to all our musicians who helped make our musical program a success. Especially those of you from our neighbor churches. That was some great music, and we all enjoyed it.”