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The next morning, John set Buttercup down for a bumpy but otherwise perfect landing at the Tarampura airstrip. He made a mental note that the strip of land carved from brush and trees would have to be groomed before it got out of hand. He also noted Marta wasn’t there to greet him. “Hi, John! Are we going to fly on this nice day?” Tucker asked. “I don’t think we can. The nurse and I still have a lot of villages to visit,” John said. Numah smiled a bashful greeting. “Where is Marta? Doesn’t she come to greet friends anymore?” asked Sandy. “She want us to bring you. She fight with the village doctor,” Tucker said. They climbed hurriedly to the village. They could hear Marta yelling loudly in the local dialect. When frustrated, she threw in intermittent English. “What do you mean waving these feathers over him? This isn’t going to do any good. Just give it up and let me help,” Marta begged. The witch doctor just grunted and continued his magic. Multi¬colored sacred bird feathers fluttered...

The days seemed to melt into each other as John learned the intricacies of his new plane. He enjoyed the privilege of flying the only yellow airplane in the nation; the main reason he named her Buttercup. Even people deep in the forest who had no affiliation with missionaries felt a sense of ownership when they saw the plane fly over. “I’ve come to know the sound of your plane,” Marta said. “That’s what the Johnsons said at my last stop. It’s really nice to be wanted.” John beamed. “Are you so sure it’s you everyone wants to see?” Marta teased. “All right, so everyone wants to know what I have in my cargo bin. I feel like Santa Claus year round.” “I guess it’s good to see you too. I need to use my English now and again so I don’t forget,” said Marta. “That’s so nice of you to say so.” John enjoyed the game they often played with each other. The lines around her eyes when she smiled told him of the joy he had brought to her. It was such an easy smile, and he didn’t have to try hard to g...