CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Missionaries

This is Chapter 15 of Lanterns of Babylon. If you would like to read the story from the beginning, please click on the pink tabs above.

City of Angels Church, 1975. Minister Reb Dowling dismissed the group and everyone walked over to the fellowship hall for a buffet. About two hundred of the congregation had shown up to listen to Paul’s old roommate, Allan James, speak about his mission work in Venezuela.

Paul steered Allan and his wife, Theresa through the crowd, making introductions to those he knew. Zeke was helping a few of the ladies set up the food.

“Paul, over here!” she cried. Paul, Allan, and Theresa headed over to the table with paper plates stacked in two high mounds.

“I really enjoyed your film, Allan,” said Zeke. When it came to physique, Allan was still a beach ball compared to the taller, lanky Paul. In fact, he’d gained more weight over the years.

 Paul poked him in his ample belly. “I hope you’re sharing some of that food that our church sends you.” 

Allan turned red and looked at Theresa. “Theresa will tell you that I lost twenty pounds in Taiwan.”

“He did,” said Theresa. “Then he found them again in South America.”

“Well come on Bigfoot, let’s go load your plate full of spaghetti.”

The next day, more eating was on the schedule. Paul picked Allan and Theresa up at their hotel and headed over to Zeke’s.

They drove up to the small church on 4^th Street, where Zeke was helping her father paint the steeple.

 Paul waved from the car. “Come on Zeke, we’re burning daylight!” Zeke had finished painting the bottom of the steeple and she called down to her father who was repairing a windowpane.

“Almost done on this side, Dad. Paul said he’d come back tomorrow and help us finish.” She was holding out a wet brush and white paint dripped down on him. Ed Rosnowsky wiped paint off his nose. “Sorry Dad.”

“Go on honey. I’m going to finish the door, the panes and then go home.” 

By now, Paul was out of his car and walking up to them. “Afternoon Mr. Rosnowsky.”

 Ed shook his hand and looked over at the car. “Hello Paul. Did your friends arrive okay?”

“Yes sir, last Friday. I’d introduce you, but I don’t want to interrupt.” Ed waved at Allan and Theresa who were waving from the car.

“I expect a good show tomorrow night!” Ed shouted towards the car. “Zeke tells me you’re a dynamic speaker.”

“We try!” Allan yelled back.

“I’ll be sitting on the front row!” Ed called out.

“Allan brought along some slides and home movies of the mission, Mr. Rosnowsky. I think you’re really going to enjoy it.”

Ed was giving him an even stare. “Now enough of this “Mr. Rosnowsky” talk. I am Ed to you.”

Paul looked slightly embarrassed. “Yes sir…Ed.”

Zeke came out of the front door. She had shed her overalls and now wore a simple purple dress. “I hope the restaurant won’t throw me out in this rag.”

“It’s a good looking rag,” said Paul.

 She turned around 360 degrees. “Any paint on me?”

“Not unless it’s purple. Let’s go.” 

As they headed for the car, Zeke turned back to Ed. “We’ll be back tomorrow Dad with all of our brushes and ready to work.”

“You kids have a good time.” Ed smiled to himself. He liked Paul. He had misjudged the young man. He was a square shooter. He just hoped that Paul wouldn’t break Zeke’s heart. She loved him, but did Paul love her?

Paul, Zeke, Allan and Theresa went out to dinner, then headed back to Paul’s apartment. They played “Monopoly”, talked about the mission, Paul’s struggle as a writer and Zeke’s music. Paul put on Zeke’s album while they played the board game.

“You’re really good, Zeke,” said Theresa. “I’d like to buy a copy of each of your albums and take them back to the kids in Cualo. There’s a little girl there who loves playing the piano. She’s a prodigy.”

“By the way, thanks for the piano,” said Allan. “City of Angels has taken very good care of us.” 

Paul held his hands up mockingly. “Wait a minute. My money paid for a piano? I thought I was buying Bibles.”

“Oh, we got the Bibles too,” said Theresa. “And they’ll get as much a workout as the piano.”

“It sounds wonderful,” said Zeke. “Maybe I could fly down there and give a concert with your prodigy.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” said Allan.

The next evening, Allan and Theresa spoke about the mission in Cualo. The four hundred members, who showed up, were treated to the film about the mission and the people there. Theresa spoke about the young man who had grown up worshipping a stone statue in the jungle. When he learned of God, he not only converted, but also set up a jungle ministry where he traveled the villages and told people about Jesus.

Like the two nights before, a buffet was set up in the fellowship hall. As everyone sat around eating, Cory Stilling walked up to Paul.

“Hi Paul.”

“Oh, hi Cory.” Paul introduced Allan and Theresa. “Allan, you might recognize Cory from the movies and TV.” Allan shook her hand warmly.

“I saw you in that space thing.” 

Cory blushed. “Out There” was about a young woman who thinks aliens have abducted her, but actually she was lost in an amusement park with a space theme. “Out There” was supposed to be a comedy, but it was universally panned.

“Guilty,” said Cory. “I’m not going to try and defend myself for that one.”

“Oh no, you were great. It was the script that was bad.”

“You said it, not me.”

Paul had finally gotten the nerve to introduce himself to Cory. She was so down to earth and he felt very comfortable around her. He still hadn’t gotten up the courage to show her his screenplay. They worked together on a Christmas pageant for the church. She directed, and he wrote the narration which was mostly the 2^nd chapter of Luke. Zeke wrote some songs for Mary and  Joseph and the wise men.

“I plan on going down to Venezuela to shoot a film,” said Cory. “I would love to visit the mission.”

“When are you coming down?” Theresa asked.

“This summer. It’s a low budget feature based on Sister Cammeron, the nun who worked in Peru.”

“Why aren’t they shooting it in Peru?”

“Like I said, it’s low budget.

“Then why don’t they shoot it in Mexico?” Paul asked.

“It’s cheaper to shoot in Venezuela,” replied Cory.

“Give us a call when you come down,” said Allan.

“Are you playing Sister Cammeron?” Theresa asked. 

Cory shook her head, “No, I have a co-starring role. I play a teacher.”

Not long before she took the Venezuela picture, Mickey Yulin had offered Cory the part of Edie Bronson in “Street Shadow”. It was a good part, starring opposite Josh Smythe. Mickey had called her from London with the offer.

“I’ll be honest Cory…” said Mickey. “…I want you to do a nude scene. I know how you feel about that, but let me say, it will be done very tastefully with lots of shadows and muted lighting.”

“I believe you, Mickey. You gave me my first good role. And I don’t mind playing a recovering drug addict...”

 Mickey did not let her continue. “…But no nudity, right?”

“That’s how I feel,” she replied. 

There was a brief pause. The long distance lines crackled across the Atlantic. Cory could almost hear Mickey thinking. Then he spoke. “What if I guaranteed you a piece of the action? This film is going to make a bundle. For six months filming you could clear a couple of million.”

For the fastest one millionth of a second in history, Cory thought about it. Think of the good she could do. A couple of million dollars could really spread God’s word, feed many people, and Mickey was always honest with her, but…

“I don’t think so Mickey. I’m flattered you think enough of my talent to offer, but I just can’t do it.”

“I admire your principles kid. If you change your mind, give me a call. I won’t be casting for two months.”

“Thanks, Mick.”

Cory didn’t expect to get too many offers like that, but with Jesus, it was really an easy decision. It was nothing for her to regret.

When the buffet broke up, Cory tried to rush to her car without appearing so. Ron said he was going to call from Hawaii where he was shooting a Pineapple Delight spot. She heard a voice calling to her.

“Cory!”  She turned to see Janie Lambert coming down the walk. Janie was a timid bank clerk who had a beautiful singing voice, but didn’t talk a lot. They were in the same Bible study group. Cory liked Janie. She was a mousy little woman who had lost her husband of twenty years to cancer. They had no children, and when Alvin, her husband died, the shy woman reached out to the Bible study group.

“Hi Janie.  Did you get enough to eat?” 

Janie patted her stomach. “More than enough, I’m afraid. Uh, may I talk to you?” Cory did some mental figuring. It would take her twenty minutes to get home. She didn’t want to miss Ron’s call, but Janie was a woman of few words.

“Sure Janie. What do you need?” 

The short, spare woman kept her eyes on her shoes as she spoke. “Someone told me you had a pretty good business head on you.” 

Cory swiveled her head. “It’s still here. I guess it’s okay.”

“Uh, Minister Dowling said you suggested the recent church expansion and even negotiated the sale on the property across the street.”

“Yeah, I helped, but it was mostly the elders who did the negotiating.” 

Janie shook her head and smiled. “Reb Dowling said you seemed to know all about the drainage and right of way and stuff like that. And he said you had a good handle on permits.”

“I know a little. My father is a minister in Minneapolis and when we moved to a new church ten years ago, I was the church secretary’s assistant. A lot of facts came across my desk.” 

Janie kept her eyes on the ground, looking more embarrassed by the moment. “Well…since Alvin died, I’ve been at a loss. He handled all the business.”

“I understand,” said Cory.

“And…well…we owned some property in the downtown area and I need some help.”

“What kind of help, Janie?”

“There’s this building that’s been in my husband’s family for years. When Alvin died, it became mine. It’s a beat up old warehouse really. A family ran a wholesale business there and they paid us rent. When the lease was up, they moved out.”

“Are you looking for new tenants?”

“Not really. Mr. Devaney, the real estate agent who handles warehouses in that area wants to buy it.”

“For how much?”

“Thirty thousand.” That didn’t sound like very much, even for an old beat up warehouse.

“How big is it in square footage?”

“Oh dear, I have no idea.”

“Can you give me a ball park figure?”

“Oh no, it’s not as big as a ball park.”

“I mean in general, how big is it? As big as say…our church?” Janie looked back up at the large edifice.

“Oh no, not that big. Maybe it’s about half the size of the church.” That was pretty big. Cory wasn’t familiar with the warehouse district near downtown, but a building that big was probably worth a lot more than thirty thousand dollars. The property might even be worth more if the building wasn’t standing on it.

“I’d like to see it, Janie. Why don’t we go over there on Tuesday and give it a look”

Janie raised her head and smiled. “You’d do that for me, Cory?”

 Cory put an arm around her. “Of course I would. We are sisters in Christ.”

Judd gunned the Harley one last time for luck. The canyon spread out before him as an unending vista of greens and browns. In Wyoming, the air was fresh and clear. The mountains formed a purple backdrop against the fifty-foot gap that lay before him. I can do this. It’s going to be a tough one. I did it back at The Ranch. I can do this. The mental mantra of “I can do this” was born out of confidence and habit. Judd always repeated it to himself on an especially difficult stunt. When I did it back at the ranch, it was a flawless feat, he thought.

The Ranch was a training area for stuntmen north of L.A.  Solomon Branch had set it up just before he retired. The Ranch had five towers, cliffs, a river with rapids, a one lane paved strip that went half a mile to a dead end, and all the tools a stuntman needed for his trade. Solomon was working on a building that could burn over and over. He had some of the best special effects people and carpenters working on it. Solomon had even contacted the Disney engineers to help him out.

Back on The Ranch, Judd marked off eighty feet on the paved strip and set up a ramp. He went over the stunt several times, adjusting his speed. Then he shortened the eighty feet to sixty feet. He jumped the cycle easily at that length. Now, all he had to do was jump the fifty feet over the canyon. The bad news was, it was a two hundred-foot drop if he didn’t make it. Or if he pulled short, he could crash into the cliff on the other side.

“Ready!” yelled the A.D.

Judd nodded and pulled the visor down from his helmet. There were three cameras set up to catch the stunt. He could see the helicopter whirring near the canyon, staying in position. Here goes.

If he wasn’t an atheist, he’d probably be praying to God, but Judd believed in just one thing. Himself. He was in control. He had walked the path that the cycle would pursue. He cleared away the small pebbles that could be trouble. He checked and re-checked his landing area, assigning a younger stuntman to keep it clear of debris. He had a team with push brooms to clear the area to his satisfaction. Judd depended on no one but himself to make this stunt work. God would not lift his motorcycle across the canyon. He had gone over the cycle forty different times, checking the engine, keeping it in good tune. He took the tire pressure once more and made sure he had just enough gas to accomplish the gag. Now, his hard work was about to pay off. Judd signaled the A.D. that he was ready. He was confident now, relishing the familiar adrenaline rush that coursed through his veins.

He tensed forward. Other than the helicopter, everyone was standing still, looking at him. There was a little wind, but it would be okay. Judd felt right about it. This was going to be a fantastic jump. The world suddenly slowed down. He let his body relax. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the A.D. waving a flag and shouting into his bullhorn.

“Go! Go! Go!” shouted the A.D.

Judd hit the gas and shot off towards the canyon. The motor roared in his ears as he gave it more gas. The cliff was rushing up to him at fifty-five miles per hour. If he hit it too slow, he could crash into the other side. If he went too fast, he’d lose control on the landing.

The needle moved up to sixty. He would hold it steady when it hit sixty-two miles per hour. The gap loomed ahead and for a moment, it looked like a mile wide. The needle hit sixty-one mph. Judd’s eyes moved from his speedometer to the horizon. He was looking for dust blowing. A sudden gust or an updraft could kill him. He had planted a windsock on the other side out of camera range. It was blowing a little. So far, so good. The needle hit sixty-two mph. He crossed a faint line he’d drawn in the dirt with his toe. That was it. The point of no return. If he braked hard, the bike would continue forward, over the lip of the canyon. If he leaped off the cycle he could be killed, or dragged off the cliff. His momentum would take him over the cliff with the cycle.

The ramp was buried in the dirt near the edge. It was not high enough to show up on camera, but the angle allowed the required arch of the motor cycle. He hit it at sixty-three miles per hour. Judd felt the earth leave from under his wheels. For a second, he felt like he was suspended in mid air. Don’t look down. Keep your eyes on your landing point.

The cycle flew in a broad arc, gaining altitude. The opposite side of rock was barreling towards him. For just a brief moment, he thought he’d miscalculated. He was going to be short! It was the angle. It looked like he would hit the side of the cliff, but the cycle would make it. He braced himself for the landing.

The other side of the canyon seemed to scoop under him. Whack! The cycle hit the other side and swerved into a fish tail. Judd fought for balance and was able to get it under control. He kept going for two hundred more feet before slowing down.

The crew applauded wildly as he rode up to them.

“Beautiful!” shouted his stunt assistant.

“You’re the best, Judd!” screamed Alex Sand, whom moviegoers would think actually did the canyon leap. Alex was the hot new action star. Everyone had come out to watch the stunt.

Judd made a mock bow, low and long. He took off his helmet and accepted some cold lemonade that an assistant brought him.

Goldie, who was working with the continuity woman walked up to him and gave him a hug. “You are a wild man.”

“I’ve been telling you,” said Judd. “Aren’t you glad I got you this job?”

“Yeah, I want to be there when you splatter your beautiful black body against Snake Canyon.”

“I was in control all along.”

“I still prayed for you.”

 He touched her face softly. “Thanks Goldie.”

In the past few months, they had seen each other, but Goldie was dating a man from her church. Judd was pretty busy. He’d been seeing a costume assistant at one of the studios. At times, he tried to get something going with Goldie of a more intimate nature. She gently, but sternly rejected his advances.

“I’m proud to be a twenty seven year old virgin, Judd. As far as I’m concerned, there’s one man out there for me. And so far, you aren’t him.”

The rejections hurt, but he knew it was true. In an attempt to meet her halfway, Judd went to church down in Compton. He didn’t tell Goldie. He didn’t want her to know and get her hopes up, so he secretly attended a service.

As he sat in the back pew, listening to the minister’s message about Saul on the road to Damascus, Judd found his mind questioning every verse. He mentally took the story of Paul’s conversion apart. Being blinded and hearing the voice of God could be symptoms of epilepsy or maybe a minor stroke. It was illogical to be anything spiritual. As the congregation stood to sing the invitation song, Judd slipped quietly out the back.