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"Meeting the Locals" by alanguz

A story of a young American traveler named Bob in the tropics. He had intentionally split up with his newly found partner and was awaiting his arrival in an old airplane so that they could reunite and continue their adventure, flying on to Australia to consumate a drug sale. Bob had a bit of trouble with some of the locals during the process of reaching the designated meeting place.

Category: Short Story

Tags: Tropical Island, Drugs, Jungle, Old airplane, Monkeys

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Meeting the Locals


Bob looked at the cheap, waterproof, plastic watch he had found in Bali while hiking. It was eleven o’clock, and he had to meet up with his friend Jarma by six. Bob spent the early part of the morning at an animal preserve, partly just killing time, and partly because his natural curiosity drove him to learn more about the unique indigenous creatures that inhabited this tropical island.

There were numerous species of monkeys; macaques, capuchins, rhesus, and even large baboons roaming freely in the area. They were unconfined, but seemed to stay within their respective established territories. There was a particular group of stump-tailed macaques that caught his interest. They were very unusual in appearance, with brown hair, the older ones graying and balding. All of them had pink or red faces, and some had freckles. He studied them for a while, marveling at their social behavior – seeming to laugh and play as they groomed one another. One large male was even kissing his apparent girlfriend.

Bob met Jarma in Dharjeeling three months earlier. They became friends and soon trusted each other. Jarma had paid ten-thousand dollars and a few bales of medium-grade ghanja for an old Dakota plane. They would now be able to sell another large batch of marijuana that Jarma had loaded into the aircraft for a huge profit. Jarma promised Bob a small percentage of his profit in return for his help and as a reward for his introduction to an Australian contact.

The plan was to leave from the little twenty-four-hundred foot dirt airstrip near the tiny town of Timura – twelve kilometers away, on the other side of the island. Then they would fly to Nandi to refuel and continue to their destination in Australia.

There was only one road through the forest to Timura, and it was more of a wide path, rutted and muddy, with grass growing on the middle mound. Many parts were so overgrown, they were almost impassible, and other spots were flooded badly from the recent heavy rains that came without warning this time of year.

Bob calculated his chances of catching a ride of some sort, but because there were only a few motor driven vehicles on the island, he thought he’d better get started in case he had to walk the distance. He had almost no money – only the equivalent of about three dollars. He was a little hungry, so he bought a large bag of popcorn and a liter of water from a vendor who had set up a small stand in the preserve. Then, he headed out.

Bob’s appearance was formidable, although his six-foot-five-inch frame was emaciated from suffering through months of malaria recurrences. He looked somewhat like a starving ogre. He was down to one-hundred-seventy pounds, and his beard was badly in need of a trim. He had only the clothes on his back, except for a stained shirt he kept in his small back pack along with a change of underwear and some personal items.

The first three kilometers were fairly easy, although the humidity was oppressive and Bob was already tiring somewhat. He sat down on the grassy middle-mound of the road and munched on his popcorn, taking a swig of water from time to time. *****, it’s hotter than I realized, he thought. He wished that someone in some kind of vehicle or conveyance would come long and take pity on him so he wouldn’t have to walk the remaining distance.

Anyway, I do love the wilderness, and this is where I want to be, he affirmed to himself. It was very beautiful in the deep forest, with many colorful birds chirping and singing in their unique dialects. The sky was a light blue, with wistful clouds very high in the atmosphere, but he was uncomfortable and damp. Bob could see movement and hear rustling in the trees around him. Then, he noticed a large baboon watching him from a few yards away. He waved to the creature and spoke gently to him.

“Hello, old man. Fine day, isn’t it? Want some popcorn?”

He threw a handful of his light meal towards the baboon, whose eyes quickly darted to where they had fallen. Then, another baboon appeared, and another. Soon, there were seven or eight of the beasts in the surrounding trees. They just appeared, like the puffs of popcorn that he had watched as the kernels heated in the vendor’s pan.

Their movements began to get more agitated. The large male – the alpha, as it turned out, dropped from the tree and gently plopped down a few feet away from where Bob was sitting. Then, another – a female, dropped out of the trees.

Bob spoke to the male again. “Go ahead old boy. Don’t be bashful. Let the old lady have some, too”

The baboon tentatively picked up a piece of popcorn and stared at it as he turned it over with his fingers. He held it up to his mouth and quickly licked it several times. He threw it on the ground and picked up another. This time he simply put the popcorn in his mouth and began to chew. He evidently liked it because he started to gather more and more. The female followed suit and other baboons began to drop out of the trees – all looking for popcorn.

All of the remaining popcorn was in Bob’s possession, but not for long. He began to toss out handfuls as the fear welled up in him that these animals might get aggressive. In spite of the fact that popcorn was scattered all around the area now, that wasn’t good enough for the female who now positioned herself in front of Bob in a threatening manner. She curled her lips upward and showed her angry red gums and huge, two-inch fangs. Bob stood up, hoping to look intimidating and to scare off the aggressive animal. He tried to growl, but his breath caught in his throat and he coughed instead. His heart was pounding out of his chest now, and he could taste the choking, bitter bile in the back of his throat. His back and shoulder muscles arched up involuntarily, in a natural defensive posture.

“Arrgh,” he finally managed to shout.

A shock of energy rose from his lower extremities up through his back and shoulders as if he had been hit with the Holy Spirit – only it wasn’t jubilation he was feeling, it was sheer terror.

The agitated female leapt so fast that Bob had no time to react as her feet hit his lower body and she grabbed his shoulders, knocking him backwards. She weighed about forty pounds, but she had the strength of five grown men. He could feel the heat of her breath and would have wretched at its fetid odor if he weren’t so preoccupied, trying to raise his arms to protect himself. She began to pummel him with her fists, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Bob wondered why she had not sunk those vicious fangs into his flesh. He was screaming, now. She continued to pound his chest and his face as the other baboons scraped up all of the popcorn they could shove into their mouths.

Bob rolled over and covered his head as best he could with his arms and hands. The baboon was relentless, continuing her pounding. His face was bleeding now, as were his bare arms and the back of his hands. Her long nails – almost talon-like, had been raking his body as she beat him. Bob knew he was a dead man.

Suddenly, the baboon jumped off of him and ran into the forest. In seconds, the large alpha male was the only one left, casually eating the remaining tiny puffs of popcorn. Soon, he left as well and Bob watched, checking the trees and surrounding foliage for any stragglers. He wondered why they had all gone, and why the beating had stopped. Maybe she didn’t like me talking to her husband. I guess they finished their business with me, thank God, he thought – greatly relieved.

He tried to stand again. The strap-muscles in his legs had been so tensed and tight that when they finally began to relax, they were loose and shaky – like overcooked Udon noodles. He stumbled and fell to the ground again, unable to get up. He lay there and began to shake uncontrollably. He was crying – partly from relief and partly from the lingering terror that still had its grip on him.

The forest was normal again - birds singing and trees rustling. Bob lay still until he finally felt he could rise. He pulled himself to a sitting position and began to wipe the blood from his eyes and face with a dirty hand. There was saliva in his beard. He didn’t know if it was his or the baboon’s. He pulled some fresh, wet green grass from the road mound and wiped himself off as best he could.

Presently, an ox-drawn wooden cart came toward him on the road. An old Chinese man was driving and he stopped and stared at Bob. The cart contained pigs. Two sows – about one-hundred-and-fifty pounds each, and a boar that Bob estimated weighed at least two-fifty. The old man motioned for Bob to climb in.

“Do you speak English?” Bob asked. “I’m grateful you stopped but I really don’t want to ride with the pigs.”

The old man just stared at him, finally motioning again.

There was no room to ride next to the man, and the pigs were not delighted to see Bob, so he rode standing on a protruding plank at the back of the cart, hanging on as best he could. It was an excruciating and long ordeal, but he finally got to Timura.

He was almost three hours early, so he found the airstrip and waited in a nearby thatched-roof café. He spent his last few cents on two beers and thanked God for the cold ambrosia-like refreshment as he prayed silently, grateful to be alive.

Finally, he heard the drone of airplane engines in the distance. He searched the sky and saw the ancient DC-3 dropping lower as it prepared to land. As it approached, one engine sputtered and then belched loudly. A huge puff of blue smoke appeared as it made its shaky landing.

Christ, what’s next? Bob wondered how the rest of his day would go.


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Category Name: My Thoughts

I did not enjoy this story. I am not even sure what problem the protagonist faced. This story was okay. The story would have been better if the author had introduced the problem differently and made it feel more pressing. I really enjoyed this story. The author did a good job pulling me into the story by introducing an immediate and important problem for the protagonist.

This section is for overall comments and general ideas. The score should reflect how much you enjoyed the story.

Category Name: Character Development

The characters were not dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable or unique. I don’t care about or understand the characters because they were poorly developed. The characters were somewhat dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I partially understood the thoughts, feelings, and actions of the characters. I somewhat connected with and care about the characters. The characters were very dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I thoroughly understood their thoughts, feelings and actions. I felt connected with and cared about the characters.

This is act of bringing a character to life on the page. It is a combination of the author’s description of the character and the character’s dialog, action, and thoughts. Though all characters should be believable, the protagonist and antagonist are usually the most developed characters.

Category Name: Plot

I finished reading the story so the plot must have unfolded, but I am not sure what the plot was. The characters did not achieve or grow by solving the problems they faced in this story. There were definite wrinkles in the way the plot unfolded leading to the final conflict. The plot was loosely tied to the achievement and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame some of the problems flowed unnaturally with the story. I could see the plot unfolding through a series of escalating problems that lead to the final conflict. The plot helped me understand the achievements and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame the problems flowed naturally with the st

In fiction a plot is all the events in a story, particularly rendered towards the achievement of some particular artistic or emotional effect. In other words it's what mostly happened in the story. The plot draws the reader into the character's lives and helps the reader understand the choices that the characters make.

Category Name: Dialog

The dialog seemed like cold words on paper. I had a hard time following it. I didn’t learn very much about the characters through the dialog. Through the dialog I could sometimes see the characters learn and grow while occasionally discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was generally consistent with the character. Through the dialog I could see the characters learn and grow while simultaneously discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was true to the character and it helped me understand the characters emotions.

Category Name: Setting

The setting created a haze in my mind that detracted from the story. I am lost in time and space because I don’t know when or where this story takes place. The setting was described adequately, but not well enough to bring it to life in my mind. The setting did not add to or detract from the story. I am pretty sure I know when and where the story takes place. The author engaged all of my senses while vividly describing the setting. The setting helped me better understand the setting and plot. I know when and where this story takes place.

The setting is where a story takes place. The choice of setting and its description helps the story come alive in the mind of the reader. Appropriate setting contributes to the plot and mood of the story.

Category Name: Mechanics

The story contained so many mechanical errors that it was hard to follow the plot or understand certain sentences or paragraphs. Occasional mechanical errors were distracting, but these errors did not inhibit me from being able to understand the plot or connect with characters in the story. I rarely if ever noticed mechanical errors. As far as I could tell, the writing was clear and correct.

Mechanics includes sentence structure, verb agreement, grammar, spelling, voice, punctuation and aspects of basic style.

Note: The purpose of ReviewFuse reviews is NOT to provide comprehensive copy editing, but rather to "ignite creativity." Reviewers should not feel obliged to point out every grammar or spelling error (though they certainly can if they wish), but should focus on this area only to the degree that errors make a story hard to follow or understand.

Inline comments are the most helpful and important aspects of your review.

Click on a paragraph or highlight text from the paragraph to provide inline comments. While detailed grammar correction is welcome, the purpose of inline commenting is to spark the author's creativity. This is best done by expressing feelings, questions, and concerns you have about the story while you are reading.

1. Meeting the Locals

2.

3. Bob looked at the cheap, waterproof, plastic watch he had found in Bali while hiking. It was eleven o’clock, and he had to meet up with his friend Jarma by six. Bob spent the early part of the morning at an animal preserve, partly just killing time, and partly because his natural curiosity drove him to learn more about the unique indigenous creatures that inhabited this tropical island.

4. There were numerous species of monkeys; macaques, capuchins, rhesus, and even large baboons roaming freely in the area. They were unconfined, but seemed to stay within their respective established territories. There was a particular group of stump-tailed macaques that caught his interest. They were very unusual in appearance, with brown hair, the older ones graying and balding. All of them had pink or red faces, and some had freckles. He studied them for a while, marveling at their social behavior – seeming to laugh and play as they groomed one another. One large male was even kissing his apparent girlfriend.

5. Bob met Jarma in Dharjeeling three months earlier. They became friends and soon trusted each other. Jarma had paid ten-thousand dollars and a few bales of medium-grade ghanja for an old Dakota plane. They would now be able to sell another large batch of marijuana that Jarma had loaded into the aircraft for a huge profit. Jarma promised Bob a small percentage of his profit in return for his help and as a reward for his introduction to an Australian contact.

6. The plan was to leave from the little twenty-four-hundred foot dirt airstrip near the tiny town of Timura – twelve kilometers away, on the other side of the island. Then they would fly to Nandi to refuel and continue to their destination in Australia.

7. There was only one road through the forest to Timura, and it was more of a wide path, rutted and muddy, with grass growing on the middle mound. Many parts were so overgrown, they were almost impassible, and other spots were flooded badly from the recent heavy rains that came without warning this time of year.

8. Bob calculated his chances of catching a ride of some sort, but because there were only a few motor driven vehicles on the island, he thought he’d better get started in case he had to walk the distance. He had almost no money – only the equivalent of about three dollars. He was a little hungry, so he bought a large bag of popcorn and a liter of water from a vendor who had set up a small stand in the preserve. Then, he headed out.

9. Bob’s appearance was formidable, although his six-foot-five-inch frame was emaciated from suffering through months of malaria recurrences. He looked somewhat like a starving ogre. He was down to one-hundred-seventy pounds, and his beard was badly in need of a trim. He had only the clothes on his back, except for a stained shirt he kept in his small back pack along with a change of underwear and some personal items.

10. The first three kilometers were fairly easy, although the humidity was oppressive and Bob was already tiring somewhat. He sat down on the grassy middle-mound of the road and munched on his popcorn, taking a swig of water from time to time. *****, it’s hotter than I realized, he thought. He wished that someone in some kind of vehicle or conveyance would come long and take pity on him so he wouldn’t have to walk the remaining distance.

11. Anyway, I do love the wilderness, and this is where I want to be, he affirmed to himself. It was very beautiful in the deep forest, with many colorful birds chirping and singing in their unique dialects. The sky was a light blue, with wistful clouds very high in the atmosphere, but he was uncomfortable and damp. Bob could see movement and hear rustling in the trees around him. Then, he noticed a large baboon watching him from a few yards away. He waved to the creature and spoke gently to him.

12. “Hello, old man. Fine day, isn’t it? Want some popcorn?”

13. He threw a handful of his light meal towards the baboon, whose eyes quickly darted to where they had fallen. Then, another baboon appeared, and another. Soon, there were seven or eight of the beasts in the surrounding trees. They just appeared, like the puffs of popcorn that he had watched as the kernels heated in the vendor’s pan.

14. Their movements began to get more agitated. The large male – the alpha, as it turned out, dropped from the tree and gently plopped down a few feet away from where Bob was sitting. Then, another – a female, dropped out of the trees.

15. Bob spoke to the male again. “Go ahead old boy. Don’t be bashful. Let the old lady have some, too”

16. The baboon tentatively picked up a piece of popcorn and stared at it as he turned it over with his fingers. He held it up to his mouth and quickly licked it several times. He threw it on the ground and picked up another. This time he simply put the popcorn in his mouth and began to chew. He evidently liked it because he started to gather more and more. The female followed suit and other baboons began to drop out of the trees – all looking for popcorn.

17. All of the remaining popcorn was in Bob’s possession, but not for long. He began to toss out handfuls as the fear welled up in him that these animals might get aggressive. In spite of the fact that popcorn was scattered all around the area now, that wasn’t good enough for the female who now positioned herself in front of Bob in a threatening manner. She curled her lips upward and showed her angry red gums and huge, two-inch fangs. Bob stood up, hoping to look intimidating and to scare off the aggressive animal. He tried to growl, but his breath caught in his throat and he coughed instead. His heart was pounding out of his chest now, and he could taste the choking, bitter bile in the back of his throat. His back and shoulder muscles arched up involuntarily, in a natural defensive posture.

18. “Arrgh,” he finally managed to shout.

19. A shock of energy rose from his lower extremities up through his back and shoulders as if he had been hit with the Holy Spirit – only it wasn’t jubilation he was feeling, it was sheer terror.

20. The agitated female leapt so fast that Bob had no time to react as her feet hit his lower body and she grabbed his shoulders, knocking him backwards. She weighed about forty pounds, but she had the strength of five grown men. He could feel the heat of her breath and would have wretched at its fetid odor if he weren’t so preoccupied, trying to raise his arms to protect himself. She began to pummel him with her fists, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Bob wondered why she had not sunk those vicious fangs into his flesh. He was screaming, now. She continued to pound his chest and his face as the other baboons scraped up all of the popcorn they could shove into their mouths.

21. Bob rolled over and covered his head as best he could with his arms and hands. The baboon was relentless, continuing her pounding. His face was bleeding now, as were his bare arms and the back of his hands. Her long nails – almost talon-like, had been raking his body as she beat him. Bob knew he was a dead man.

22. Suddenly, the baboon jumped off of him and ran into the forest. In seconds, the large alpha male was the only one left, casually eating the remaining tiny puffs of popcorn. Soon, he left as well and Bob watched, checking the trees and surrounding foliage for any stragglers. He wondered why they had all gone, and why the beating had stopped. Maybe she didn’t like me talking to her husband. I guess they finished their business with me, thank God, he thought – greatly relieved.

23. He tried to stand again. The strap-muscles in his legs had been so tensed and tight that when they finally began to relax, they were loose and shaky – like overcooked Udon noodles. He stumbled and fell to the ground again, unable to get up. He lay there and began to shake uncontrollably. He was crying – partly from relief and partly from the lingering terror that still had its grip on him.

24. The forest was normal again - birds singing and trees rustling. Bob lay still until he finally felt he could rise. He pulled himself to a sitting position and began to wipe the blood from his eyes and face with a dirty hand. There was saliva in his beard. He didn’t know if it was his or the baboon’s. He pulled some fresh, wet green grass from the road mound and wiped himself off as best he could.

25. Presently, an ox-drawn wooden cart came toward him on the road. An old Chinese man was driving and he stopped and stared at Bob. The cart contained pigs. Two sows – about one-hundred-and-fifty pounds each, and a boar that Bob estimated weighed at least two-fifty. The old man motioned for Bob to climb in.

26. “Do you speak English?” Bob asked. “I’m grateful you stopped but I really don’t want to ride with the pigs.”

27. The old man just stared at him, finally motioning again.

28. There was no room to ride next to the man, and the pigs were not delighted to see Bob, so he rode standing on a protruding plank at the back of the cart, hanging on as best he could. It was an excruciating and long ordeal, but he finally got to Timura.

29. He was almost three hours early, so he found the airstrip and waited in a nearby thatched-roof café. He spent his last few cents on two beers and thanked God for the cold ambrosia-like refreshment as he prayed silently, grateful to be alive.

30. Finally, he heard the drone of airplane engines in the distance. He searched the sky and saw the ancient DC-3 dropping lower as it prepared to land. As it approached, one engine sputtered and then belched loudly. A huge puff of blue smoke appeared as it made its shaky landing.

31. Christ, what’s next? Bob wondered how the rest of his day would go.

32.

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