RIPPLES AROUND THE WORLD

Chapter 10 Grace's Journey

An encrypted Email from Grace Polonski to Luke Girardi , dated November 11, 2006 (local time)

Whew! What a journey! But at least I can explain what happened.

It all started when Bonga fell out of a tree. It wasn't a boy's stunt; he was fetching some fruit for the communal meal, and he had done lots of climbing before, so I don't know what went wrong. The doctor with our group set some broken bones, but he said that was some internal damage that he lacked the tools to fix. He wrote it up – some diagnosis that I couldn't understand. So I volunteered to ride Bonga over the mountains to a more modernized area where he could get help.

We talked it out. We decided that I would get over fastest by travelling light – just Bonga and me, with the supplies we needed to get the destination. No pack animals, no wagon. The village offered me one of their best horses, accustomed both to heavy loads and to rough ground. We squeezed all that we could into saddlebags, and I put some more into a knapsack to wear. I couldn't take my laptop, but I did pack in a CD with your encryption program.

Some moments got pretty hairy. Can you imagine trying to stay balanced on a horse's back when it's moving on sloping terrain and you've got a knapsack on your own back? Sometimes I had to lean forward, over Bonga, because I was afraid of falling back over the tail. Center of gravity and top-heaviness, I remember Lischak calling it in AP Physics, but it sounded awfully theoretical when she talked about it, and it was awfully real now. No wonder that the SEEDS trainers – and before that, Cowgirl G-d – made sure that I had good equestrian skills before this started. The mountain scenery might have struck me as beautiful, if I didn't have to think of riding through it.

The worst of it was figuring out how to camp out at night. I WAS going a lot faster than the caravan – which was the whole point – and was able to cut it down to a single night. But I didn't have a tent; it would have been too bulky. Just some blankets for Bonga and me. The weather was fine, fortunately; actually comfortably cool after a hot day. The mountain was pretty unpopulated, people-wise, but I was worried about mountain animals. I managed to get Bonga and me up on a rocky outcropping where they weren't likely to get up. I tethered the horse to a nearby tree with a nosebag and hoped that it would be safe.

Bonga was getting pretty delirious. I gave him water and medicines, but that's the most I could do except provide moral support. I can't report the exact conversation, because it was in a combination of English and the local language, a sort of pidgin. Their real language was very expressive, but I hadn't learnt the nuances yet, and Bonga understood that, even in a fever. I started by assuring him that he was going to be all right.

"Spirit Lady say, trouble come, but then OK."

"Spirit Lady? In the grove?" I wondered if it was a coincidence that both he and I saw a supernatural Woman.

"Yeah. She say, stay with Gres-Ski. She protect you." Gres-ski was how they rendered my name. First and last syllable seemed to be the custom.

"I'm doing my best," I said. "I love you, Bonga."

There was a long silence, and then he said "Big crowd."

"A crowd?"

"Lotta people. Picture machines, and sat-lite things. Me, on stage. You there, other kid."

I suppose that he was hallucinating.

"I say to crowd, clap Gres-ski. She protect me."

"Thank you." Apparently he was dreaming about me getting some big award for getting him to the hospital. Lovely idea, but it was just a dream. My own point of view as more like that line in CASABLANCA: the troubles of two people doesn't amount to more than a hill of beans in the world.

Eventually he fell asleep, and I could feel safe dozing off myself.

The next morning we awoke, and nothing bad had happened to us. I got us back on the horse and we simply trudged on. A lot of that second day was downhill, and my trouble with balance was reversed. Now I had to lean back, while still making sure Bonga stayed on. Fortunately my knapsack touched the saddlebags on the horse's rump and they propped me up, though it wasn't very comfortable for my back, and my butt was getting pretty sore. I kept telling myself, I was over the halfway point – now the two-thirds point --

They were pretty startled in the town when I finally rode in, but I managed to explain things. They stabled my horse, and offered me a place to shower off and sleep while somebody drove Bonga to the capital, but I insisted on staying with him in the car. I did manage to borrow a company laptop and get your encryption program on it before I dropped off to sleep. I couldn't help it; it was so much more comfortable on a cushioned car seat than with my butt in a saddle for hours.

I woke up a few minutes ago, and they said it would be another twenty kilometers to the hospital in the capital. So I decided to Email this to you.

Oh, yeah – SEEDS and the briefcase. I got that message sent off, as I promised. But frankly, it's still not important to me. The important thing is making sure Bonga gets cured.