Read Quiet Strength - Book I, Love's Mission Page 10

Chapter Ten: Relationships of Many

  No one worked after dinner. Gamini would take Ryan, Amy, and Bill to explore the island. Sometimes Gamini’s family or some village children would join them. The children were particularly drawn to Amy. She was very attentive and loving toward them. The brothers, who were less adapted to all the physical work, chose to use this time to rest.

  Fuvahmulah was so beautiful and unique. It was the second-largest island in Maldives at only 2.8 miles long and 0.7 miles wide. There was so much to appreciate about the island. It was so diverse with tropical wetlands, freshwater lakes, well-vegetated marshlands and a variety of beaches. It was the beaches that marveled Amy. She walked beside Ryan every night, regardless of who else tagged along. The north part of the island had white sandy beaches. In the southwest corner of Fuvahmulah was the village of Dandigan. On their beaches Amy found kalho-akiri which meant black pebbles. Each visit, Amy would pick up a pebble and keep it as a memory.

  The month of August was still in the thick of the southwest monsoon season. The weather was either perfectly beautiful or perfectly stormy. Storms could pop up quickly. Whenever they set up for the day’s work, they had to be wise and plan for, at the minimum, a shower to slow down progress. Sometimes they faced a full-blown tropical storm that might shut them down for a couple of days. So far they had been blessed by having only one storm to shut them down longer than a day. That stormy day was Ryan’s favorite memory.

  After dinner, the usual group took a walk, but this time the brothers joined them. They had only walked about a half mile before the winds started picking up. In a matter of minutes, the rains came pelting down on them so hard that it hurt to the point of stinging. Ryan was sure that the brothers had never moved so fast in their lives. Their long, lanky legs tried to escape, but the sand became a vacuum to their footing causing them to both sink and slip with every step they took. Bill chose to walk briskly back to the village, leaving Ryan and Amy to seemingly fend for themselves. Bill knew Ryan would take care of Amy. He had noticed the attraction between the two of them, and a little time together would be okay. The storm didn’t seem to be one that was going to last long.

  By the beach, there was no place to go for protection. Amy never complained, but Ryan knew she was hurting. He guided her to a line of trees and motioned for her to stay there. Twenty yards away, a small fishing boat was tied to a post. Ryan ran and emptied the boat of the water that had already filled the bottom. He bent his legs and reached for the crossbars. On his first try, Ryan failed to get the boat to release from the sand’s grip. The rain was as relentless as Ryan’s efforts. Again, to no avail, he lifted the boat by its crossbars only to fall into the boat this time. More determined than ever, he got out of the boat and pulled it inland until the suction let loose. He picked the boat completely up and over his head and carried it to the tree line where Amy waited. He broke off two long tree branches, shoved them into the sand, and propped up the boat for shelter. Amy and Ryan crawled under the boat, relived and out of the rain. Their skin tingled from the stinging rain. The metal-bottomed boat offered shelter; however the hard rain vibrated and pounded on it so hard that it was almost deafening. They were ‘forced’ to sit close to each other if they were going to be able to have any kind of conversation.

  “How are you holding up?” Ryan had to repeat twice, and then decided to scoot even closer.

  “I am good. Thank you for the protection. You looked caveman-ish out there man-handling the boat.” Ryan thought about what Amy just said as they tried to wipe some of the wetness from their face and arms.

  “I didn’t pound my chest and grunt, but I felt very successful being able to pick this thing up and carry it over here.” Ryan actually blushed when he talked to Amy. “Me have woman to protect!” With that he did beat his chest and grunt. They both had a good laugh.

  The storm lasted one hour and thirty-four minutes to the second. Ryan and Amy had such a good talk under that small boat. After the storm clouds rolled away, the sun shined as brightly as if it had never rained. Amy insisted on helping him carry the boat back to the beach and tie it up. The others came looking for them as they tied the last knot.

  “What did you two do, go out for a little row while it stormed?” Mark always had to be the wise-guy.

  “Sure did, Mark,” Amy quipped back. “We weren’t wet enough where we were.” She always seemed to be the one to put Mark in his place. Mark took it in stride and awaited another opportunity to insert his sarcasm again.

  Their last week was approaching fast. Eight days left and so much left to do. The building was coming along great. There was no doubt that it would be done. The problem was in translating the Bible. The writing and language was so different. Every word took time to transpose. The late hours at Gamini’s were difficult after working all day on the building. Their bodies were so tired. They prayed nightly for God to strengthen their bodies and minds. This one night in particular became the brother’s favorite memory.

  They had gathered in Gamini’s hut like they had every night. This night the hut was filled with exhausted people. Their bodies and minds were weary, but here was so much to do that they came faithfully to stay on course. The brothers had been playing and teaching Mifrah and Sana the bongos and harmonica as part of their nightly meetings. For the most part, it was ‘making a joyful noise unto the Lord’ because calling it music would be stretching it way too far. Wayne picked up both sets of bongos and handed one directly to Mifrah. Mark let Sana choose whichever harmonica she wanted and sat down against the walls. Tap, tap, Wayne started and Mifrah mocked his every beat. Sana picked out her favorite harmonica, put it to her mouth, and folded her right hand over the harmonica forming a tight cup. With a deep inhale, Sana blew longingly into the instrument waving her hand against the back. The reeds started vibrating, creating a soft sound. Then she inhaled through the harmonica, this time continuing to wave her hand across the back. The noise had become music. Mark joined Sana on his harmonica and Amazing Grace sounded… amazing.

  However, the soft praise only lasted about ten minutes before Mifrah decided he had enough of the soft sounds. The four year old started tapping faster and faster. He wanted to free style tonight. He got happy feet as he had every limb and appendage moving with a beat. He was so funny. They all watched as the little one’s facial expressions changed from sweet to radical as the beat got faster. Mark and Wayne were able to keep up and still manage to make music out of the boys’ beats. Sana had to give up. She was laughing so hard at her brother that she couldn’t breathe to play anymore. There wasn’t any translating the Bible on this night. It was free styled laughter and joy. It was good for them to laugh because they had been carrying such a big burden. When their sides hurt from laughing so hard, they called it a night. Sleep was easy that night.