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

by David B. Smith

  She grinned. “I’ll trade this for you showing me how you play so good.”

  Benny looked up at the others. “Come on, Stone, get in here. I need a fresh face to beat.”

  “I never played this before.”

  “Aaaah, it’s easy. Just hold your cards where I can always peek at them, and I’ll tell you what to play.” Benny’s big laugh boomed through the passenger car.

  A gust of wind blew through the window, threatening to scatter the cards. Bucky managed to stumble through a round of play without making any major mistakes, but once again Benny’s team came away with nearly all of the points. “Like taking candy from a baby!” the big student grinned.

  Bucky felt a soft pair of hands on his shoulders. Looking up, he saw Vasana standing behind him. “Boy, you’ll be my friend for life,” he grinned as she kneaded his stiff muscles. “I was sore from that plane ride.”

  Her slim fingers continued to massage him through the next game. He shot her a grateful look as she finished. “That was great.” Then he paused. “How about you now?”

  A tiny look of formality crossed her face. “Oh . . . no, thank you.” She silently moved away.

  A frown crossed Bucky’s face. He looked over to where the young girl sat alone by the window watching the darkened landscape whiz by. A memory of Lisa flickered in his mind. He needed to be sure to email her from Chiang Mai.

  “Bedtime, boys and girls,” Gordon announced as the porter came down the aisle. Moving with swift efficiency, the man converted seats into upper and lower berths.

  “Where’s the restroom?” Ricki wanted to know.

  “Down at the end.” Gordon pointed. “It isn’t much of one, though. And if you’re going down to brush your teeth, remember, don’t use their water.”

  “What do I do?”

  He handed her a plastic bottle. “Just take a bit of this,” he advised. “Some folks drink the water here and get away with it. But let’s not take any chances.”

  Bucky eased himself into the cramped upper berth and slipped out of his jeans. By lying on his side at an angle he could almost . . . He sighed.

  Even with the raucous cries of snack vendors at the train’s several nocturnal stops along the way, Bucky awoke refreshed the next morning. “I guess my jet lag’s about done,” he grinned in relief as he greeted the youth director.

  “Have some pineapple.” Gordon motioned toward a heaping plate. “All this for a buck. Can you imagine? My treat.”

  “Thanks.” Bucky savored the juicy fruit. “How soon do we get to Chiang Mai?”

  “‘Bout an hour.”

  Chapter Six: “Man, We Are in the Jungle!”

  The Chiang Mai train station was less crowded than its Bangkok counterpart, but still full of freewheeling Asian bustle. Eager merchants dangled flower necklaces, hotel brochures, and offers of “Taxi? Taxi?” in front of the eighteen students and Pastor Humboldt.

  At the front entrance a young Thai man stepped forward. “Pastor Humboldt?”

  “Yes.” The youth director offered his hand. “You’re Pastor Sawat?”

  A big smile. “Hello. We are so glad to have you here.” His English was nearly perfect.

  “Well, here are our kids.” Gordon motioned toward the blue-jeaned group. “And ready to work!”

  “Welcome to Chiang Mai.” The same broad grin. Pastor Sawat brought both hands together in the traditional Thai “wai” greeting. “Sawatdee.” He motioned toward a young woman next to him. “This is my wife, Kobkeow.”

  Gordon went down the list, introducing each young person to their Thai host and hostess. The pastor repeated each name, as did his wife. “Buck-EE,” she said, accenting the second syllable instead of the first, when Gordon came to Bucky.

  “My wife is still learning English,” Sawat beamed. He looked at Vasana. “We are so happy to see Vasana again after several years.”

  “Are we ready?” Gordon asked.

  “Yes, let’s go.” The pastor directed them toward a dilapidated bus. “Not as fancy as you may have in California.” He pronounced his words carefully. “Are you all from California?”

  “Oh, no, from all over. These kids came from everywhere to help build your dormitory.”

  The pastor smiled his gratitude. “As you say, ‘All aboard!’”

  The drive to the academy took about an hour as the road led further and further away from civilization. Even as they turned off the main road, however, Bucky still spotted a road sign advertising Coca-Cola.

  “Man, we are in the jungle!” Benny poked his head out the window. “Hot in the jungle, too.”

  The school campus was isolated several kilometers away from any other signs of life. Six buildings dotted the hilly terrain, and dirt paths divided the grounds into rough green sections.

  “Welcome to Maetang.” Pastor Sawat surveyed the campus. “We only have a few students here now. Most of them return in three weeks. I know how eager they will be to have the new dormitory.”

  “Where do we put everybody?” Gordon asked.

  The young Thai minister pointed. “The boys can use the dormitory over there. We have cleared out most of the students’ belongings, and there are just two boys here now. They’re staying on the other side. The girls can sleep in the chapel.”

  “Are the teachers here?”

  Pastor Sawat shook his head. “Three of them are away for their vacation time, and our principal returned to Canada for the summer. He and his family come from there.”

  “Who’s heading up this building project?” Gordon had a worried look that the short pastor noticed immediately.

  “Oh, the foreman will be here this afternoon. His name is Prasert. He will lead in the building project.”

  “Good.” The youth director sighed in relief. “I know a little bit about building, but not enough to run the show.”

  “This man, Prasert, is very skilled,” Sawat asserted. “His English is not so good, maybe, but he can show you what to do.”

  “Terrific.” Gordon glanced at the sky, then turned to his group of young people. “Let’s get settled and see about some lunch. After that we’ll get some work in. Start earning our keep!”

  • • • • •

  The foreman was large, at least for a Thai. Bucky, at six - feet - four, was just a few inches taller than the supervisor. Prasert had a cheerful smile that revealed several gold teeth.

  “So glad to seeing you,” he repeated over and over until the girls snickered. Taking everybody out to the building site, he issued several simple instructions.

  “This part done,” he said simply, pointing to the concrete foundation. “Now frame and paint. Some brick here.” He pointed to a set of plans that were remarkably precise. Bucky, looking over his shoulder, recognized some of the same specifications often used at the home repair center back in Hampton Beach.

  “You boys. Here.” He drew some simple design illustrating how they should do the framing. “Three days, making frame. OK?” The students nodded their assent.

  Even in one afternoon the mission crew made good progress. Prasert moved among the young people, pointing out new assignments or ways to improve what they were doing. Every suggestion ended with the same “OK?” Several of the girls helped mix mortar and sort supplies, anticipating what the framers would need.

  “Very good! Very good!” The gold-toothed smile flashed as the foreman struggled to pronounce his r’s.

  “Dee mahk!” Benny looked up from his hammering.

  “Yes! Dee mahk!” Prasert seemed delighted with the American boy’s attempt to speak the language. “Dee mahk is very good!”

  “All right!” Bucky reached over and gave his friend a high five. “By this weekend you’ll be translating the sermon.”

  That night the students feasted on a huge pile of mangoes and a tiny fruit Bucky had never seen before but that tasted similar to grapes. “Try this stuff!” Gordon advised. “Linchee, they call it. Better than back home.”

  The youth direct
or’s guitar provided lively accompaniment once again as the mission group sang their favorites from back home. Bucky grinned as he saw the academy’s few remaining students slip in and join the Americans.

  “Welcome!” Gordon waved a greeting at them. “Come sing with us!”

  One of the girls shook her head shyly.

  “Do you speak English?” She shook her head again.

  The youth director turned toward Vasana. “Ask them if they know any songs.”

  The girl spoke to the Thai students in a rapid stream or words. Smiles came to their faces as they answered. “They know ‘Shout to the Lord,’” she told Gordon.

  “Let’s sing that.” He strummed a few chords. “Tell them to sing along in Thai.”

  The mixture of languages drifted out across the jungle surrounding the campus. With Vasana’s help, the students managed to find several songs they knew in common. Bucky noticed with a grin that the Thai students’ favorites were mostly “oldies” from years ago.

  After prayer, the group split up. “No wandering off!” Gordon ordered. “You kids stay close to home.”

  Even though it was nearly dark, a Rook game started up under a sixty-watt bulb hanging from an outdoor lamppost. Bucky watched for a few minutes, then turned as he saw Vasana approaching him.

  “There is a lake right over this hill,” she told him in her precise way. “Do you want to see it?” Her Asian face was solemn.

  He grinned. “Sure.” After scanning the horizon he said, “It’s getting kind of dark. Will we be able to see anything?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  He followed the slim girl as they walked up the path. In his mind Bucky contrasted Vasana’s upscale Western attire with the simple costumes worn by the Thai girls and realized what a difference culture made.

  In the twilight they watched the gentle ripples of the darkened lake. Mosquitoes buzzed around Bucky’s head as the warm air gradually cooled off.

  “What’s it like being here again?” he asked her.

  Vasana shrugged delicately. “Good, I guess.”

  “Did you ever live up here?”

  “I was born here,” she said quietly.

  “Did you go to school in Chiang Mai?”

  She shook her head. “In Bangkok.”

  “How’d you know the pastor then?”

  She plucked a blade of grass and pulled it apart. “He went to college there. My father met him there many years ago when I was very small.”

  “Your dad’s a doctor, right?”

  The girl nodded.

  “How’d you come to be in America?”

  Vasana grinned. “He went to college here in Bangkok, but then chose to take his medical training in the U.S. His grandparents were wealthy, and they helped him to come to America.”

  Bucky digested the information. “Now that he’s finished, what does he want to do?”

  “He doesn’t know,” she said simply. “Maybe come back here someday. Maybe not.” She paused. “Maybe it is hard to live in America and then come live here again.”

  An image of affluent California with its Disneyland and stadium-seating theaters and crowded malls popped into Bucky’s mind. Right at that moment it seemed a million miles away from the primitive Thai landscape surrounding them.

  The next several days were long work marathons for the eighteen young people. With Prasert’s help the framing went well. Bucky and Benny remarked often how the Thai builder had an uncanny ability to spot mistakes before they happened.

  “You, how you say, connecting joint this way,” he gently chided as one of the boys tried in vain to couple two sections of pipe. “Watch.” A few simple directions set matters right. “OK?”

  As the week wound to a close, Gordon drove up in the school’s little jeep, shifting the gears awkwardly with his left hand. “Anybody do any work today?”

  “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head and watching the beads of sweat fly off. “Tons of it.”

  “Thirsty?”

  “You bet. All we can drink is that boiled water, and this morning the fridge went haywire. Prasert got it going again, but now the water’s just lukewarm.”

  A mischievous gleam appeared in the youth director’s eyes. “How’s an ice-cold soda sound?”

  “I’d think I’d died and went to heaven,” Benny declared, mopping his brow. “‘Cause it is hot, man.”

  Gordon reached behind him in the jeep and flipped a familiar red can to the tall student. “Catch!”

  “You got it!”

  “One for everybody!” A big tub of ice held enough cold cans for each student. “Got ‘em in town.”

  “All right!” Benny reached into the tub and pulled out a huge hunk of ice. “This is what I need.” He rubbed the melting cube across his glistening dark skin. “Oh, baby.”

  Jo-Jo, one of the girls, grabbed a second cube, and, without warning, dropped it down the back of Benny’s neck.

  “Aaaargh!” He twisted around in pretended agony. “I know I’m hot, but gimme some warning!”

  Moments later a free - for - all broke out as the students pelted each other with slivers of ice. Vasana was giggling as frantically as the rest as Bucky dropped a handful of cubes down the back of her T shirt.

  • • • • •

  That night the group gathered in the chapel. Bucky looked at the girls, now attired in simple dresses and freshly done hairdos. The dust and grime of the busy week were just a memory.

  “Some of you may be wondering about that old black - and - white photo on the wall,” the youth direc­tor said quietly as he began his devotional. “This little building is called Venden Chapel. That picture is of Dan Venden, a great old evangelist from the 1940s, who had a real love for this particular mission field. Two of his own daughters worked in Asia for many years, and one of them right here in northern Thailand. After he retired, he contributed the money to build this chapel because he wanted to help young people just like you kids get an education here.”

  A murmur of interest spread among the young people. “And of course, you kids have been up to the academy’s beautiful church up at the north end.” They nodded. “That daughter I mentioned – she and her husband were long-time missionaries here, like I said. Just a few years ago, though, he was killed in a hit-and-run accident.” Bucky sucked in his breath.

  “Yeah. Sad story. But his four sons got together with a bunch of friends, collected money, and then got that gorgeous church built up here. So it’s a pretty awesome tribute to Pastor Smith.”

  There was a long silence as the students reflected on how many people – and now them – were joining forces to build a great fortress of truth for God’s work so far away from California.

  “We’re going to celebrate Communion together,” Gordon went on, picking up his Bible. “I know we’re a long way from home, but as we share together these emblems, we can know that we’re united in Jesus with other believers all around the world.” He paused. “Including all the folks back home who helped send you out here to do the Lord’s work.”

  The teens quietly reflected on the tiny wafers and cups of grape juice the youth director had prepared. The Thai students stepped forward as well, following Vasana’s whispered instructions.

  Following prayer bands, the leader drew the group back together once again. “This weekend we’re going to ride the bus back into Chiang Mai to attend church,” he said. “And there’s going to be a special surprise I think you’re never going to forget.”

  Bucky sat in the chapel with the others for a little while, listening as Benny demonstrated some new chords on the guitar. A full moon rose over the mountain hillsides, spilling light onto the quiet campus.

  For a moment he cocked his head to one side. What was that down by the path?

  Slipping away from the group, he followed the moonlit trail toward the lower part of the academy campus. There, just off the pathway, was a simple tombstone. He bent down to make out the plain lettering: HELEN MORTON.

 
Mystified, he looked around, but no one was nearby. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of a slight figure heading across the hill toward the makeshift volleyball courts.

  “Vasana! Wait for me!” He jogged over to the girl.

  Despite her reserved demeanor, Bucky thought he sensed a flicker of interest. “Hello,” she responded.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just to walk.”

  He paused. “Can I come along?”

  “Of course.” She motioned with her head. “Come.”

  As he followed her up the pathway, he tried to think of something to say. “How’d you like Communion?”

  “It was good.” She pointed to a small bench surrounded by trees and some wild flowers. “Would you like to sit here?”

  “Sure.” Sinking down on the hard wood, he looked at her. “Teach me some Thai.” A short laugh. “I gotta keep up with Benny.”

  “What do you want to know how to say?”

  “I don’t know. How about just ‘hello’?”

  “Very easy. Sawatdee.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He nodded, then repeated it after her. “I’ve heard people say that a lot.”

  “Remember, a man must say ‘Sawatdee krahp.’” She emphasized the final syllable.

  “How come?”

  “That is the proper way. A woman says, ‘Sawatdee kah.’”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  He thought of several more words, and she dutifully translated them, a tiny smile curving her lips as she listened to his stiff American accent.

  “Not too good, am I?”

  “No, you do very well,” she encouraged.

  “How do you say ‘Jesus’?”

  She smiled. “Prah Yesu.”

  “Sort of sounds like Jesus,” he commented.

  “Yes. My father told me that the name of Jesus is very similar in all languages.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know that.”

  The pair chatted easily for a number of minutes, pausing to swipe away a few mosquitoes that hovered nearby.

  “I wonder what’s the big surprise tomorrow.” Bucky watched a cloud slide across the moon. “Hey, I can see Orion. See? Right there? Man, just like back home.”