I'm Sorry, But I am Not.

First of all let me apologies for my lack of blog existence. Life was very busy for me until last Thursday afternoon which found myself on a gym floor with a white face and a fat ankle. Being on crutches necessarily slows down your life but, much to my delight, makes time for other things that are normally shoved aside. One of those things has been writing my part of the recent challenge hosted by Faith.

So, here was the idea I received, I believe I can thank Josie for the inspiration for this story. Josie, am I right?

One day, while out riding his horse, practicing for a rodeo, the rider (you can decide whether you want it to be a guy or girl) is bucked off his horse and is knocked momentarily unconscious.  While unconscious, the rider is kidnapped and shipped to a foreign country, then stranded on an island when the ship wrecks.  The rider starts off through the jungle and is soon met by a band of natives, who start rejoicing excitedly.  They mistake the rider for the new missionary who is coming to help out at the newly established mission there.  (The rider has the same name as the missionary).  

When the mistake is found out, will the rider go back and perform in the rodeo, or stay and help at the mission?  And will he be able to find out what happened to the real missionary?


So here is my first part of I'm Sorry, But I am Not

As the black cloud slowly receded from Ian’s brain he began to be aware of a gentle rocking movement and opening his eyes he looked confusedly around. He was laying on his back and looking up at the large supporting beams of a…what? He struggled into a sitting position, ignoring his spinning head and tried desperately to focus on the flying objects in front of him.  Squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them wide he finally made out several hammocks hanging around him on to his immediate right a ladder which the bright sun was pouring down. He was in the hull of a ship!

He stood up slowly and stiffly his spurs making a familiar jingling sound as he began to stumble painfully towards the ladder. The jingling turned into a loud buzzing noise.

Ian jerked wide awake, gasping for breath, as he felt his body suddenly drenched in very cold water. He was lying at the bottom of the ladder where he must have passed out as he began his ascent and scrambling to his unsteady feet as he felt the ship tip on her leeward bow, another flood of cold water poured down the open hatch and re-drenching him.

He grasped a wrung of the ladder and began to desperately haul himself up; he must know what was going on. The last thing he could remember he had been out in the Montana flatlands practicing some of his trick riding for the upcoming rodeo.

He reached deck just as the ship tipped steeply to her stern and he found himself sprawling across deck.  The wind was screaming through the mast heads and a freezing rain tore mercilessly at his lightly clad body. His legs were warmer than the rest of him, thanks to his cherished leather chaps but they were still soaking. The ship dipped to her helm and he was soon sliding towards the side. His hands scrabbled for something to hold onto and his voice croaked an appeal for help but he went over the edge in a moment.

Ian fought with the raging waters as they tried to pull him down. His beloved chaps were like led on his legs when he tried to kick and sorrowfully he unbuckled them.

A mother wave stole up behind him and gently tucked him under one arm a rocking him to sleep.

When Ian woke up again he found himself once more lying on his back but this time he was quite familiar with the scene that met his eyes—blue sky!

He breathed deeply and heard the wash of the ocean tide tenderly caressing the beach. A large bird cast it shadow over him for a moment and then lightly dropped near by. He lay still not caring for anything, but resting his limbs, when a beak appeared over him and two beady eyes watched him carnivorously.

“Earwaaah!” the vulture announced his find to his friends riding air currents above.