Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING
words except for “King.” But it was evident that the Younger White
Brother was still confused. One day he would know who he was. He
would remember that before he came, no one knew of the Lord’s
Army and their suffering. No one cared. They used to hide, now
everyone knew them. They had been given land. They had a TV
show with number-one ratings. What other proof did they need to
know the Younger White Brother was among them?
My friends were at last able to leave No Name Place. But how
would they walk down the mountain to the truck? “Not far,” Black
Spot said. “Walking, it is taking only one hour most.”
“I can try,” Bennie said. He was still quite weak from the malaria,
as was Esmé. Obviously, neither of them would be able to walk even
a hundred yards. Perhaps a few could go down and bring help? But
the idea of being left behind frightened Esmé, who cried: “What if
you can’t find your way back? What if the bridge falls down again?”
“Maybe we can telephoning now and asking people for help?”
Black Spot suggested.
Telephone? Was he daft? “I forgot telling you,” he said. “There is
so many miracle.” Black Spot went off to the edge of the camp and
into the bamboo stands, and when he stepped out, he pulled from a
satchel an oblong of blue plastic: Heinrich Glick’s satellite phone.
In their elation, in their desire to leave in whatever way possible,
the Americans did not question how this phone was manifested.
“Who should we call?” Marlena asked.
“Bear Witness Hotline,” Black Spot said. “We are telling them we
see ourselves.” He put the phone in the satchel, stepped into the loop
at the base of a teak tree, and like a frog, leapt to the top, above the
canopy, where there was a clear view of the sky.
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