It was an ordinary day in the jungle of Papua New Guinea. The tourist attracting birds were screeching, the child eating bugs were chirping, and the locals were gathered on the white man’s porch.
The white man, an American named Chris, was working furiously in his office alongside a translation consultant and three local helpers, ignorant of the cataclysmic catastrophe about to strike. “Mak 16, umatə uyə ənə blah blah,” he said, gibberish to all but the few who speak the language Chris had persevered to learn. “Blah blah,” he said and in mid sentence “BOOM!”
The ‘boom’ I just wrote does not give justice to the terrifying tragedy that befell that day. I could bold it, enlarge it, underline and italicize it, but none of that would quite yet do it. You’ll just have to use your imagination and conjure up a grand ‘boom’ in your head. “BOOM!”
Chris’ ears were ringing with the reverberations of his brain jiggling inside his skull. Having become accustomed to these types of booms since moving to the jungle a few years ago, the white man’s eyes immediately went to the solar panel readout center on the wall above his head. “All normal,” it said but Chris’ eyes squinted in disbelief. “How could a lightning strike that close not affect our solar?” he thought.
In mid-contemplation his darling wife called breathlessly from the porch. “Chris, check on the kids,” she called. “Check on the kids,” she said, but the way she said it, the way the air left her lungs passed through her vocal chords and escaped her mouth, the way the sound of her voice reached her husband’s ears, Chris knew immediately all was not right with his beloved.
“Heck with the kids,” he thought as he swiftly scrambled out of the office onto the porch and rapidly rushed to his wife’s side. She lay prone on the floor of the porch her legs draped half over a young girl lying beside her. “My legs, my hands,” she whispers, “rub them.” Her toes and fingers cramped and curled seizing up from the unwanted amount of electricity that had passed through her uninvited.
Chris worked feverishly to bring rapid relief to the punishing pain coursing through his wife’s muscles. Others, whites and un-whites together, gathered around and helped those brought down by the ‘boom’.
In a short while all were sitting again and regaining control over their limbs and muscles once again. It was a pain-filled following week for that man’s wife, but the pain passed and now there is only a good story to tell.
Chris does find his wife’s kisses electric, but will quickly assure you that it is not a recent development. And while entering into eternity with the Creator is an exciting proposition, we know that He is not done using Chris’ wife here on this earth.