Dr. Cooper had only one course of action available to him, and that was to fly the plane—just keep it under control, keep it flying. The plane was being knocked all over the sky. They braced themselves against the walls of the cabin, the seats, the floor, and each other, and still the plane plummeted earthward. As clouds whipped past the windshield and the plane quivered with every new gust of wind, Jacob Cooper kept an iron hand on the control yoke and the throttle, watching the airspeed and altimeter and making no sudden moves.
They knew that the Stone had to be out there somewhere in all those boiling clouds, but just how close was it? A collision would be no contest.
“Dear Jesus,” Lila prayed out loud, “we’re in your hands.”
Suddenly, light burst through the windows as they dropped out of the clouds into clear air.
“Yes!” Jay shouted.
They could see the ground, and it looked awfully close. But the altimeter was no longer winding down. The violent downdraft was contacting the ground and turning sideways, becoming a powerful wind.
But where was the Stone? Every head twisted left and right trying to find it.
“There it is!” Jay shouted. “Nine o’clock!”
They could see the huge wall, dark and ominous in the cloudy gray light, stretching from the earth into the clouds. It appeared to be at least a mile away, and the good news was that the wind had carried them away from the Stone, not toward it.
Just then, they saw grass roofs slipping quickly by below them. Cattle. People.
“The Motosa village!” said Jay. “We’re right above it!”
The engine sputtered and coughed. “Well,” said Dr. Cooper, fiddling with the knobs and ignition, “what do you know!”
“What?” asked Dr. Henderson.
“We’ve lost the engine.”
“What?”
“Carburetor ice, I suppose, or a broken fuel line. Hang on. I’m setting up for a landing.”
Dr. Cooper turned the plane into the wind and aimed for a stretch of flat ground. The gusty, unpredictable wind lifted the plane, then dropped it, then knocked it sideways. “Check your seat belts!”
By now, they couldn’t get their seat belts any tighter.
The wind dropped suddenly and so did the plane, so abruptly they could feel it in their stomachs. The desert floor rushed up at them, only thirty feet below, then twenty, then ten. Dr. Cooper fought for control as sagebrush, grass, and stones raced by below the wheels.
WHAM! The wind slammed the plane into the ground. The wheels bounced, the plane floated up again, then fell again, the wheels digging into the soft earth, kicking up dust, gouging out ruts. Dr. Cooper pulled back on the control yoke to keep the plane from nosing over as it swerved, bucked, bounced, and rumbled over the ground.
IMPACT! The right wheel hit a large rock. The plane spun in a circle, tilting wildly, the left wingtip clipping the top of a bush. Then the right wheel strut gave way, and the plane collapsed to the ground in a cloud of dust.
And then it was over. The plane sat amid desert stones and scraggly, yellow grass. It was quiet and still now, one strut broken and the right wingtip resting on the ground.
Jay and Lila relaxed, sat up, and looked around, letting out an audible breath of relief.
Dr. Henderson was all folded up with her arms clamped around her head. Only after a long, uninterrupted moment of silence and stillness did she slowly, timidly unwrap herself and come up for a look.
Dr. Cooper still had one hand clamped around the control yoke as he went through his shut-down checklist, flipping switches, turning knobs, shifting levers. In seconds, the aircraft was secure. Then he rested back in his seat, relaxed for the first time in what seemed an eternity of terror, and prayed in a quiet voice, “Ohhh, thank you, Lord, for a safe landing!”
“Thank you, Lord,” Lila agreed.
“Thaaaank you,” said Jay.
“Well, you can sit here and pray if you want,”said Dr. Henderson, “but I’m getting out of this plane!”
Click, clack, their seat belts came loose and they piled out the doors, Dr. Henderson and Jay having to duck under the drooping wing on the right side.
“OWW!” Dr. Henderson fell to the ground, grimacing in pain, her hand going to her knee.
Jay leaped to her side, followed by Lila and Dr. Cooper. “What is it?”
Jennifer Henderson was hurt and angry at the same time. “I hurt my leg! Dr. Cooper, you broke the plane and me with it!”
Dr. Cooper knelt beside her and helped her roll up her pantleg. Her knee was beginning to swell.“Can you move it at all?”
She lay on her back, her face crinkled in agony, and gave it a try. She could move it, but it hurt terribly.
Dr. Cooper checked the knee as she worked it.“Well, nothing’s broken, but your knee is badly bruised.”
Dr. Henderson let her head plop on the soft, sandy ground and wagged it in despair. “Why me?Why me?”
“But you’re still alive,” Lila offered. “And you’re safe.”
Boom, bubbaboom, buboom, buboom boom. The sound of African drums came floating to them on the wind.
“ The Motosas,” said Jay. “Their village can’t be far from here.”
Dr. Henderson gave Lila a despairing look. “I only wish I could run.”
“The question is, where?” said Dr. Cooper, surveying the area all around them. The bare desert gave way to a dry, grassy plain with singular trees popping up here and there, but this was still open country and their wrecked airplane had to be visible for miles. “I have little doubt the Motosas know we’re here. Those drums could be an alarm.”
“Well, I say we try to get back to the other side.”
“It would be difficult, if not impossible. The Stone’s blocking the road, and those hills at either end would be a tough climb even if you weren’t injured.”
Dr. Henderson struggled to get up. “Well, I’m not staying here to become somebody’s dinner!”
“Can you walk at all?” Dr. Cooper asked, lending his arm.
She put weight on the leg and nearly collapsed again, wincing at the pain. “OWW . . . no.”
Dr. Cooper helped her get comfortable on the ground again, then ducked under the airplane’s wing and reached inside the cabin.
“I’ll try the plane’s radio. Maybe we can contact somebody.”
Boom boom buboom, the drums kept playing away.
“Do we have any weapons?” Dr. Henderson asked, sitting up.
Jay and Lila looked at each other for an answer.
“A few tools, maybe,” said Jay. “A wrench, a screwdriver . . .”
“Rocks,” Lila suggested.
Dr. Henderson smiled dryly, looking up at the sky. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world!”
Dr. Cooper tried several times to raise someone on the radio, but he couldn’t get an answer. Finally, he set the microphone back in its holder and shut the radio off. “The Stone must be blocking our signal.”
The wind had begun to die down as the storm ebbed away. The sun poked holes through the thinning clouds.
Boom boom buboom boom. The drums sounded louder.
Dr. Cooper scanned the countryside. “We’ve got to find some shelter, some place to hide.”
“Dad!” Lila whispered. “I think I saw something!”
They all looked in the direction Lila pointed. To the north was an expansive plain of sagebrush and prairie grass, and beyond that, a thin, scraggly forest. Nothing seemed out of place and nothing moved except the grass in the breeze.
“I don’t see anything,” Jay said quietly.
“There’s somebody out there,” Lila insisted.
They noticed for the first time that the drumbeats had ceased. They heard nothing except the gentle hiss of the breeze through the dry grass.
But was the motion in the grass just from the breeze?
Dr. Cooper was the first to see a face emerge, painted with clay and camouflaged with blades of grass to make it nearly invisible against its surroundings. Slowly, with increasing boldness, the warrior rose from his hiding place in the tall grass to his full height, brandishing a spear in one hand, ready to hurl it at the slightest wrong move.
Lila came alongside her father and held him tightly as another warrior appeared, and then another, each one painted from head to foot to look just like the prairie, like he was made of earth and grass. To the north, and then to the west, and now from the south, more warriors appeared as if growing out of the ground, springing up like cornstalks in a time-lapse movie. It was remarkable how close they’d gotten without being detected.
“They’re very good,” said Dr. Cooper.
The warriors came out into the clear, moving stealthily, catlike, their feet touching lightly, silently on the ground. With precision and discipline, they formed a circle, evenly spaced like fenceposts, around the airplane and its occupants, their spears ready. Jacob Cooper counted about thirty. They were not naked, but close to it, dressed for a hunt and dead serious about it. Their expressions were grim through all the mud and grass camouflage.
Dr. Cooper raised his hand very slowly, making sure they could see it was empty, and then gave a slight wave of greeting. “Hello.”
Some of the warriors directly in front of Dr. Cooper finally spoke, but not to him. They were looking at the broken airplane, pointing, muttering to each other, and even getting excited. They called to some other warriors who hurried over to confer in a tight huddle. Word began to travel around the circle, and now everyone seemed excited. Two warriors ran back into the grass, apparently to spread the word to the rest of the village, whatever the word was. Those who remained began to stare at Dr. Cooper, pointing at him, discussing him among themselves.
“I’m Dr. Jacob Cooper—”
Twenty-eight arms raised spears. The warriors were fascinated with Jacob Cooper, but still wary of him.
“Dad . . .” Jay whispered and then pointed to the north.
The two messengers were returning, bounding through the grass with the grace and agility of gazelles, and behind them, marching with quick, deliberate steps, were four men and . . . a bush. At least that’s what it looked like from a distance— some kind of bizarre plant sticking above the prairie grass with leaves, grass, and even a few small tree branches arranged like a walking flower arrangement. From the way the warriors quieted down and shuffled sideways to make room, this had to be someone important approaching.
The “bush” came closer, and at last they could see a grim, black face in the center of an elaborate headdress of fur and foliage.
Dr. Henderson drew a surprised breath.
Lila gasped right along with Dr. Henderson and then whispered, “Dad, is that Mr. Mobutu?”
Dr. Cooper kept watching as the very important person came closer. At first glance, and from a distance, the man did bear a remarkable resemblance to Nkromo’s chief secretary, but with a second look it was easy to tell, “No, it isn’t Mobutu. I believe this is the tribal chief, the man who holds our lives in his hands.”
The chief walked briskly into the circle with authority in every step and an ornately carved staff in his hand. He was attended by four men dressed in woven tunics and elaborate belts and sashes of grass and bark—uniforms, obviously, the proper attire for attendants to the tribal chief. As for the chief, besides the towering headdress, he also wore a breastplate of woven bones and bark, a breathtaking sash of crafted leather, leather sandals with bindings that wound up his legs to his knees, and, as the ultimate symbol of power and high office, a genuine pair of jogging shorts with the word Nike clearly embossed on the leg.
What might have happened to the former owner of those shorts was something they tried not to think about.
Dr. Cooper gave a slight bow, as did Jay and Lila. Dr. Henderson, still seated on the ground, bowed as best she could.
The chief came forward and eyed Dr. Cooper carefully as some of his warriors whispered counsel to him, pointing at the airplane, gesturing at Dr. Cooper. The chief seemed to agree with whatever they were telling him, and the more they talked, the more alarmed he looked. Finally, he spoke to Dr. Cooper, pointing and giving instructions in the Motosa language.
His words meant nothing, of course, and the Coopers and Dr. Henderson could only exchange blank looks.
The chief grew impatient, and repeated the order, pointing at Jacob Cooper’s head. Dr. Cooper raised his hand and touched his hat. The chief nodded. Dr. Cooper removed his hat and held it in his hand.
There was an audible gasp from the circle of warriors and the chief cocked his head, his face full of wonder.
“Looks like you’re in the spotlight,” Dr. Henderson said quietly.
“So what do I do to perform?” Dr. Cooper asked.
“English!” the chief exclaimed. “You speak English!”
Dr. Cooper wanted to feel relieved. Was this a good sign? “Uh . . . yes, I do.”
“Who are you?”
“Dr. Jacob Cooper, from America. And this is my daughter Lila, and that is my son Jay. And this is Dr. Jennifer Henderson, also from America.”
The chief broke into a wide smile, then laughed with joy. Then he bellowed a loud announcement to his warriors. They erupted in cheers, waving their spears in the air, smiling, laughing, hopping up and down.
Dr. Cooper just smiled at them as he quietly told Dr. Henderson and the kids, “Well, we’ve done something to please them.”
“Maybe they just heard tonight’s menu,” Dr. Henderson whispered.
Then Dr. Cooper asked the chief, “Are you the Motosas?”
“Yes, yes!” replied the chief. “Motosas, yes!” He stepped forward, all smiles, all joy. “You come! Come to village! You talk! We hear!”
Before the Coopers understood what was happening, four men locked their arms together to form a chair and lifted Dr. Cooper off the ground like some kind of football hero. Four others did the same for Dr. Henderson, while two pairs of men carried Jay and Lila. With a majestic wave of his staff, the chief led the parade, and, breaking into a song, they headed across the grassy plain.
It was an odd feeling, being carried along by these cheering, mud-painted savages. Jay and Lila tried to smile and act pleased, but they’d heard stories about savage tribes who went to great lengths to win friends just so they could betray and eat them later. Dr. Cooper had heard the same stories and was trying to remember if he’d heard them from Brent Anderson, who had worked in this country.
The parade passed over gently rolling prairie land, through waist-high grass, and past lone, aged trees. At last the Coopers caught sight of the thatched rooftops of the village on the edge of a forest. The trail took them under the sheltering canopy of the trees and then into the center of the village. There chickens and goats scattered out of their path and women and children stopped to stare and wonder at the commotion.
The warriors called to their wives, pointed at the Coopers, and rattled off rapid, excited explanations. The women grew wide-eyed and clapped their hands in awe, chattering among themselves and calling to their children. The main thoroughfare through the village was coming alive with men, women, and children, all gathering and babbling and clapping their hands as they followed the parade.
The Coopers and Dr. Henderson just let themselves be carried along through the village, observing the well-built, multi-roomed, pole and grass structures, watering troughs for the animals carved from whole logs, inventive, hand-woven garments, and intricate jewelry made from stones, bones, and leather.
The thoroughfare opened into a large village square where chickens scratched about and children kicked and chased a furry, fuzzy ball in some kind of team sport. In the center of the square was a well. It was enclosed with a circular wall of stones and topped with a beam from which a bucket could be lowered. At the far end of the square was a large, tent-like structure with a thatched roof but no walls
.Beyond that, fields of corn and wheat struggled to survive in the dry climate.
The parade carried the Coopers and Dr. Henderson right up to the big tent-like structure as two musicians started pounding big drums as a clarion call. In response, the rest of the villagers began to gather from the fields, from the huts, and from the dry prairie beyond, chattering with curiosity and excitement.
The men carrying the Coopers set them down gently; the men carrying Dr. Henderson continued to carry her under the big roof. The chief extended his big, powerful arm inside. “Please! Come! We sit! we hear!”
The Coopers followed the chief inside, past rows of log benches arranged in theater-like fashion, to an open area in the front where a large, flat stone served as a one-man platform.
“Wow,” Jay whispered to Lila. “If I didn’t know we were in a primitive African village, I’d think we were in an old revival tent!”
Lila nodded, smiling at the similarity. “It must be their meeting hall.”
Dr. Henderson was already seated comfortably on a log bench in the very front, wincing just a bit as a gray-haired man in a bone necklace and grass skirt examined her knee, nodding and muttering to an assistant or apprentice who nodded and muttered back. This was apparently the village witch doctor.
“It’s fine, really,” Dr. Henderson protested. “I don’t need any spells cast on me, thank you.”
The chief motioned for the Coopers to stand beside the stone platform while the people swarmed in from every direction, filling the log benches, chattering, and staring at the Coopers with wonder.
The chief stepped onto the stone and raised his arms to signal for quiet. The place quieted down immediately. He addressed them all in a voice that did not need a microphone or loudspeakers. And he appeared to be introducing the strangers who stood there, still oblivious to what was going on.
Then the chief looked down from his stone platform and grinned at Dr. Cooper. The people grinned, too, snickering with delight. The chief pointed to Dr. Cooper’s head, bellowed another few sentences, and then, before Dr. Cooper could resist or react, he reached over and rubbed his fingers furiously through Dr. Cooper’s hair. That being done, he stepped back and held out his hands toward Dr. Cooper’s tousled head as if to say, “Voilà!”
The people seemed to understand the point. They rose to their feet, laughing, cheering, pointing, nodding, clapping.
“Speech! Speech!” Jay cheered, clapping along, which earned him another corrective poke from Lila.
The chief offered Dr. Cooper his big hand and yanked him up onto the stone. The crowd sat down, and the place got quiet.
“You talk,” said the chief. “We hear, yes!”
Then the chief sat down on the front log and waited expectantly with all the others.
Dr. Cooper looked out at all those faces looking back and felt stark naked. What in the world were they expecting him to say? What was he supposed to do? He caught a look from Dr. Henderson. She wasn’t saying it out loud, but her eyes sent the message clear enough: “Doctor, you really are in the spotlight now!”
The warriors who had brought them here still had their spears in their hands and were eyeing him warily.
Hoo boy, he thought. If they don’t like whatever speech I come up with, we could all be Cooper soup!
And still the people waited.