Opportunity Drops

Michael would have fallen out of his seat if he had not been strapped in. The turbulence was getting to him.

Michael Carr was in his mid-thirties who would tell you he was in his late twenties if you asked him. He had held many different part time and casual jobs after dropping out of University and was dead set against having any kind of long-term commitment to anything.

Grandpa was not, in fact on the plane. Roger Carr had passed away in his sleep almost two years ago and was buried in the Brisbane Cemetery in Queensland, Australia. He had lived a good life and enjoyed the rewards of a hard day’s work. His grandson Michael was nothing like him.

The lawyer spoke up, “All right, here should do. I was given this black book to give to you, and as soon as I get your signature that that book has still got the seal on it, I am to open this envelope and read its contents.”

The lawyer opened the envelope, cleared his throat, and began reading:

“Dear Michael,

When I was conscripted into the army and sent to the Kokoda Track, my plane was shot down and before I even got to the horror that was that track I had to walk for four days out of the middle of nowhere with very little survival training. So now I want you to do the same. I want you to walk in my shoes and recreate what I accomplished. I want you to earn this money with hard work.”

Oh great, a freaking monologue. Even when you’re dead there’s a lecture. This is so much more trouble than it needs to be. I have to earn everything from you as always. I shouldn’t call this my inheritance; I should be calling this my wages.

The lawyer went on, “By this time you will have been given my sealed book. In it contains your inheritance and my few final words of wisdom.

Good luck, I love you.

Grandpa”

The lawyer gave an odd look to Michael, “So I was holding money? I was curious about the seal on the book, it seemed like such an old-fashioned thing to do. Is…”

Michael interrupted, “So is there a chance you could just land the plane now back at the airport and not push me out?”

“Ha ha, sorry sir, I’ve been paid a lot of money to make sure that you jump out of this plane and do what your grandfather planned. I assume you’ll want me to hold onto that book of yours. It would be pretty stupid to jump out with it in your pocket.”

Michael was about to hand the book back, but then had a moment of doubt.

I have no reason to trust this guy. I could die down there in that bloody jungle and he would be able to run off with my money.

Michael started pushing the book into one of his pockets: “I think it will be fine. Besides I’m supposed to carry this to the end of the trail, so I might as well stick to the script.”

He shrugged, “Suite yourself. Have you got everything that you need?”

Michael felt at his pockets and looked over all the parachute straps for the hundredth time. “As far as I know.”

If I die from this, I’ll haunt you in your grave Grandpa.

“All right then it’s time to jump.”

Michael should have trusted the lawyer. The pocket that the little black book was in was broken. As Michael jumped out into the wind and turbulence that was more chaotic than he could have thought, and as he was wrenched and spun around in every direction, the book slipped out unnoticed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The mountains glowed in the morning light and the mist was beginning to lift. A beautiful rich green could be seen anywhere you looked, with incredible tropical flowers dotting the underbrush. There were thousands of birds singing hundreds of unique calls. If one stood quietly for a moment it would be possible to hear the waterfall in the distance. Unfortunately, she did not have any time or peace of mind to pay any mind to the scenery.

Hurry, faster! You need to move faster!

Laminae (pronounced La-MIN-ah-EH) nearly tripped on a tree root as she jogged back up the hill with an almost full worn plastic jerry can of water. She was in her mid-thirties, but Papua New Guinea’s average life expectancy was fifty-five so she was approaching the end of middle-age. Her friend Tina had met her at the tribe’s central water tap and told her some frightening news. Hamo was coming.

You’re so close, you’re half way there.

Hamo was Laminae’s husband. He had bought her from her father about twelve years ago for ten pigs. Hamo had tried to argue the price down to eight because Laminae had conceived and given birth to a son with another man before him. But Laminae was the only daughter that her father had to sell so he stuck to the price that he knew Hamo was able to pay. The problem for Laminae however, was she did not conceive with Hamo. So four years later Hamo had saved up to purchase a second wife and then a third, leaving Laminae to be the oldest “livestock” in his collection. He did not stay with her often.

And Hamo was a drunk. Alcohol was not yet in the country for fifty years, and Hamo did not have a job to pay for his favourite pass time. His other two wives only sold fruit and veggies every now and then, but Laminae worked. She worked for a missionary family as a cleaner and used that money to pay for Eta’s school. Laminae could not read, but she wanted Eta to read and thrive more than she ever had had the chance to.

It was time to pay for Eta’s next semester of school. It was on the shelf in an envelope. If Hamo found it she would have to take more money out of her savings, and that would mean an even smaller chance of her being able to afford to pay for Eta to go to college.

Come on, faster! He can’t find it! Not again.

Laminae almost tripped again on another tree root that she normally stepped over without thought. She hummed nervously to herself as she pushed on.

“Oh, he wasn’t supposed to come today,” she said to herself, “what could he possibly want the money for so soon after the last time.”

Rose, who was a close friend to Laminae, was walking in the opposite direction with her own empty water container. She locked eyes with Laminae and she slowed to a stop. The look on her face said it all: “He’s already there. I’m sorry.”

Laminae’s water jug dropped off her shoulders and splashed around her feet.

~~~~~~~~~~

Back in her hut, she found the mess that was always left in Hamo’s wake. She tried not to cry too much. Life was hard and there was nothing that one could do to change that. There was no use in crying and no help in harbouring ill will towards family. People were always going to do whatever they felt like doing. It was not common in Papua New Guinea’s culture to be kind for free.

Nonetheless, it was never easy to see her husband walk away with the money she had worked so hard to save and drink it all away or buy something fancy for his other wives. She cried while shuffling around the little hut, putting items back in their rightful place. As usual Hamo had come and meticulously sorted through all her belongings to find as much of the money Laminae had hidden as possible.

“Anything that could possibly be used for his filthy habit, taken with no thanks and with no love. Lord, why is it like this?” Laminae asked herself.

She began to pick up the clean clothes that she had just washed yesterday. The dirt floor was muddied by last night’s rain and in his searching Hamo had not been concerned about knocking the clothes into the mud.

Laminae piled the clothed in her hand-woven basket, picked up the bar of soap and started down another well-worn path that would take her to the Kumusi River. She sighed to herself as she readjusted the basket to her other hip.

I have worked so hard, and I have earned nothing for it. I have been selfless and done what is right but there is nothing better about my situation. Somehow, I have kept Eta in school, but I have not even been able to get anything for myself!

She reached the river and let the basket fall onto the soft sand on the riverbank. She was about to start the long arduous process of handwashing until she noticed a strange object by the bank of the river.

More trash being thrown into the river. I guess I should check to see if it is anything useful.

Upon reaching the item, she realised that it must be a ruined black book. It had a strange piece of candle wax on it. It seemed clumsy for someone to spill candlewax on a book.

This might be another book that Eta could use to practice her reading. I wonder if it has been written in pigin?

When she picked up the book, it almost completely fell apart in her hands. The water had damaged it beyond repair. She was just going to throw the book away and rinse her hands of the sludge, when she felt something more plastic inside the mess. She stepped into the water and let the water wash away the old book, until all that remained in her hands was two bundles of money.

She let out a cry of surprise. This isn’t Kina, it’s Australian dollars! There are no markings on these and the book that they were in is ruined. There is no way of knowing where this came from.

“I can’t return this to anybody. This belongs to me now, doesn’t it! I can’t believe it! Eta can go to college! I can buy the new books that Eta wanted. I can even fund the new choir books that the church wants. With this I could buy a whole new building!” Laminae started to jump and spin and dance with excitement.

“I am paid in full! My work has been paid for! I am paid in full!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean there is no point to me looking? Surely it will be easy to look for someone who might have found the book? Don’t you all have social media?” Michael had declined the invitation to sit down and had taken to pacing back and forth in front of the desk.

The embassy staffer sighed heavily, “Sir we aren’t even sure where you dropped it. To go find a book without any kind of tracking device on it would be a miracle. I’m sorry about your grandfather’s book, I really am. I’m sure he meant a lot to you.”

Michael scoffed and continued to pace, “Ha! He really means nothing to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There was such a joyful song being lifted up by the congregation of Laminae’s church.

The members were jumping and chanting as they sang along with the pastor’s prayer

“Thank you, oh thank you Lord! You have provided for our sister, Laminae and she has seen fit to share with us her blessing.” The congregation picked up again and jumped in unison. The pastor continued, “This is truly a miracle!”

Laminae was being held close by her church family and for once in a long time had tears of joy in her eyes as she prayed, “Thank you Lord. To be able to provide for my family truly means everything to me.”