Short Poppies: New Beginnings, #1

By Deb Brammer

New Zealand sounds more like a tourist destination than a mission field, but when Levi is thrust into a short term ministry there, things aren't as easy as he expected.

As the youth pastor of Victory Road Church, Levi is pumped about the growth he sees—until he gets fired. Suddenly he is pushed into six weeks of missions work in New Zealand. Equipped with 147 sermons and 793 games, he feels ready for anything.  Even then, he finds working in a small mission church isn't as easy as he thought.

MacKenzie is almost engaged to Mike, so why does a six-week mission trip draw her in a different direction? When a medical emergency changes the dynamics, Kenzie is forced to work under Levi while he tries to force big church ideas on a small mission church.

How much damage could they do in six weeks? They are about to find out when their safety net vanishes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deb Brammer
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201730420

Deb Brammer

Deb Brammer has served with her husband, Art, in missions ministry since 1980. They served in Taiwan from 1980 to 1996 and in New Zealand since 1998. The emphases on ministry and cross-cultural relationships in her books grow naturally out of her own ministry. Deb has authored ten books: eight fiction, one true story, and one Bible study. When you read a Deb Brammer fiction book you will find fun characters who deal with real issues that challenge them to grow in their faith. On her website you will find books related to ministries in New Zealand, Taiwan, China, and ministry to international students in America. For more information about Deb, Deb’s Book Blast (author newsletter), her books, her ministry blog and resources, see her website. You can also find her on Facebook.  https://www.facebook.com/DebBrammerAuthor/

Book preview

Chapter 1

Levi stapled the last photo of their church’s youth retreat to the bulletin board and stepped back to study the overall effect. Attendance to the Thanksgiving weekend event had doubled from twenty-two last year to forty-four. Success! On the snow hill, eleven teens had squeezed onto one tractor tube for the most colossal pile up ever. The photos were still gathering likes on the Victory Road Church youth Facebook page.

Pastor Keith Amos, their senior pastor, strolled into the youth wing of the church and glanced at the photos. Nice.

The Lord gave us a spectacular weekend. Levi punched a staple into a drooping photo. I never saw our youth so excited. And three of the unchurched kids even came to youth group the next week.

Good.

Pastor Amos was clearly not here to chat about the winter retreat. Levi set the stapler down and leaned one hip on a table just in front of the coffee machine. Something on your mind?

You know how we were talking about mission trips the other day? An opportunity came across my desk recently that I thought you might be interested in. The Fischers are looking for some short- term apprentices to help them in their work in New Zealand. It would give an opportunity to preach, teach, work in camp, and do many kinds of ministry for seven weeks.

An overseas trip wouldn’t be cheap but the youth would love it. New Zealand—down under Australia, the other land down under.

The older pastor strolled to a wall map and poked a finger at the two islands southeast of Australia at the very bottom edge.  They want interns over their summer break to help with a family camp and a teen one as well.

Levi’s eyes traced the flight pattern from Charleston, West Virginia to New Zealand. You could hardly find a place farther from West Virginia and still be on land. Maybe they could plan some fundraisers. "Wait. Aren’t they having their summer now?"

Correct. Their family camp begins January seventh.

You’re joking. Levi pulled his phone from the pocket of his shirt, swiped the screen, and brought up the calendar. That’s only a few weeks away. That doesn’t give us much time to get a group together.

Actually you’d have to leave around December 28. Last June, they had considered bringing out several apprentices. I guess some aspects of the trip were uncertain, so they didn’t ask for workers then. They realize this short time frame doesn’t leave much time to prepare, but they’re only asking for a few helpers.

"Funny, I still have a hard time thinking of New Zealand as a mission field. Prime tourist destination, film location to Lord of the Rings, home to the world’s best rugby team, origin of bungy jumping, yes. But not exactly a mission field."

Why not? Pastor Amos eyed the map once more. New Zealand needs solid churches that stand firmly on the Word of God just like America does.  New Zealand is moving away from Christianity like America and Europe. Plenty of New Zealanders still need to hear the truth of the Gospel presented clearly to them.

Levi stapled another photo to the top of the bulletin board, avoiding the eyes of the older pastor and trying to figure out an undercurrent that didn’t quite make sense. You’re right, of course. Personally, I’d love to go, but who would take over the youth ministry here?

Do you remember the speaker they had at Shalom Woods’ teen camp last year? Phillip Hauser?

Yeah. Pastor Phil was great. But isn’t he busy in his own ministry?

He’s agreed to help us out.

He agrees to cover for me before I even hear about the trip? I’m surprised his church will allow him seven weeks off to help a totally different ministry.

He’s about to make a ministry change, so he can do it.

Could we skip to the hidden agenda? Levi clicked the stapler together, ejecting a few staples, and forced himself to meet the eyes of his boss and senior pastor. Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something?

Older eyes probed younger ones. Levi, you’ve been here three years, and you’ve done a lot of good things. Attendance at youth group has doubled. New families have started attending our church. The youth seem to enjoy all the activities, and they bring their friends.

But ...

Pastor Amos scanned the photos on the bulletin board. Something’s missing, Levi. Numbers are good, but some of the parents believe their youth aren’t really growing spiritually.

And that’s my fault?

The older pastor kept his words soft. I’m not blaming you, Levi, but the board feels we need something different. They really like Pastor Phil, and they think he might be able to offer that missing ingredient.

Levi stepped back and knocked a plastic coffee mug off the table. Wait. Are you ... firing me?

Actually, we’re offering to fund a six-week mission trip for you in New Zealand. It might be good for you to gain experience in a very different kind of ministry.

And when I get back?

You’re going to need to look for a different position.

Pastor Amos was an expert at this. How many staff members had he fired during his years of ministry? Levi stood speechless.

The senior pastor put his hand on Levi’s shoulder. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but oftentimes people learn more from a few weeks in a new ministry than they do in many years with a continuing ministry. Who knows? You might even meet a girl down there.

Stretching to his full height, he towered over Pastor Amos. I don’t need a wife. Someday, sure, but right now I’m enjoying the freedom I have being twenty-seven and single. I can do youth group overnighters and hang out with the guys. Ministry trips are easier. This mission trip, for example, would be impossible to pull together in two weeks if I were married and had kids.

Then be glad you can do it now. Look on it as an opportunity for personal growth. You love to travel and try new things, so you should be thankful the board agreed to fund this trip for you. It could make a new man out of you.

Make a new man out of you. The exact words Levi’s dad had said to him when he began this job. Neither one seemed to find the current Levi Oliver acceptable. So it’s all decided?

The trip is optional. As his cell phone sounded, Pastor Amos glanced at a new text message on his phone. As I said, you’ll need to find a new position. I’ll keep my eye out for any youth pastor positions opening up. I’d be glad to give you a good reference. Maybe your trip to New Zealand will help prepare you for that new position. Ministry moves can be difficult, but the Lord knows what he’s doing.

So they were blaming God for firing him. And you? Do you agree with the board’s decision, or am I not allowed to ask that question?

Pastor Amos stuck his phone into the pocket of his sport coat. I not only agreed with the board, I made the initial proposal. The older pastor turned to leave. You are doing many things right with our youth ministry, Levi, but something’s missing. I’m praying that this trip will help you figure out what that missing ingredient is.

Chapter 2

Next, please.

MacKenzie scurried up to the check-in counter at Los Angeles International Airport. She plopped her purse and carry-on in front of the counter, then dragged the hefty suitcase on wheels to meet them. While the woman behind the check-in counter waited patiently, Kenzie whipped her ticket envelope and passport from her pocket, and shoved them onto the counter.

Hurry, hurry, hurry. The late arrival of her domestic flight and the long lines at the check-in counter had her worried. The airlines weren’t allowed to offer shortcuts according to racial profiling, but her flaming red hair probably did make her look less like a terrorist.

The attendant glanced from the passport photo to Kenzie’s face, then nodded. Set your bag on the scales, please.

Kenzie pushed the top half of her suitcase onto the belt, lifted the bag by its wheels, and shoved it the rest of the way. The digital read-out declared it to be 50.3 pounds.

Close enough. And your other bag?

Kenzie stared at the bags at her feet. These are just carry-ons.

The attendant pushed up her glasses and stared at Kenzie. You are allowed one bag and one personal item. The bag cannot exceed forty-six linear inches and cannot weigh more than fifteen pounds.

Kenzie glanced down at her bags and back at the attendant. Not even close. They let me on my flight in Wichita with these bags.

Perhaps so, but that was a domestic flight on another airline. I must warn you, they’re not going to let you get on the plane with a carry-on of that size or weight.

Kenzie clutched her locket. What am I supposed to do? My flight leaves in less than an hour.

An emotionless reply. I suggest you check the extra bag.

But I’ll have to pay extra for that?

Of course.

How much?

An extra bag is one hundred and fifty dollars.

But I don’t have that much. She opened her wallet. See? Fifty dollars for all my necessary expenses in the next five days.

You have a credit card?

Yes, but I maxed out my limit to buy my airline tickets. I can’t use it again until January first, five days from now.

I’m sorry. If she was, you couldn’t tell it by her voice. I don’t make the rules. Do you wish to check your bag now and receive your boarding pass?

Of course, I do. But what am I supposed to do about my carry-ons?

That’s not for me to decide, ma’am. I’m just suggesting that you might want to minimize your carry-ons to the correct size and weight before you reach your gate. So do you wish to check this bag now and receive your boarding pass for your flight which begins boarding in—she checked her watch—forty-seven minutes ... or not?

Loudspeakers crackled with an announcement not to leave personal belongings unattended.

Kenzie swiped a stray tear from her eyes. You don’t understand. I need both carry-ons. I’m going to New Zealand on a six-week mission trip, and I need my laptop and music books and craft supplies to do my job.  I can’t just leave my biggest carry-on behind.

Same even voice. I’m sorry, ma’am, but other passengers also need to check in. You’re going to have to make a decision about the checked bag and boarding pass now.

Please, Lord, show me what to do.

The guy in the purple paisley shirt who had trailed her in the long check-in line suddenly appeared by her side and spoke to the attendant. Excuse me, ma’am. In the interest of catching my flight, would I be allowed to pay for this lady’s extra bag to be checked?

He slipped three fifty-dollar bills from his wallet.

The attendant glanced from the guy to Kenzie. Ma’am, if you wish to receive the money, we can go ahead and process your bag.

Don’t second-guess God. Just take it and run for your departure gate. Yes. Thank you.

Kenzie set her larger carry-on bag on the scale and turned to thank the generous passenger, but he had already proceeded to a different counter. Grabbing her tickets and passport, she raced toward her departure gate.

I don’t understand it, Lord. Why would a perfect stranger pay for my bag and then step away to another counter? It’s got to be a gift from you. Just help me get through security and to the departure gate on time.

Kenzie climbed up the escalator stairs, sped to security, and yanked her laptop out of the bag. While her laptop and shoes went through the X-ray machine she passed through the X-ray arch. The security woman nodded and she grabbed her laptop while she slipped into her shoes. Running away might make her look suspicious, but she power-walked, reaching her gate while passengers were already boarding.

Rolling her unchecked, regulation-size carry-on, she shuffled through the long air bridge and the length of the plane to the last row by the window. She really couldn’t expect to sit any further up when she’d booked her flight just before Christmas. At least she was close to the restrooms.

Kenzie eased her bag under the seat in front of her and stared out the window. The mystery guy who paid for her bag had saved her trip. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry, she could have hugged him. Who could he be? Did he simply want to speed the line up, or did God put him in that place at that time so she wouldn’t miss her flight? An angel, perhaps?

Movement in the seat beside her caused her to glance toward the aisle. The mystery guy jammed his bag into an overhead locker, then belted himself into the seat beside her.  His legs barely fit in the space between his seat and the back of the seat in front of him. Being short had its advantages. Now that she was confined to the seat beside him all the way to New Zealand, however, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hug him. Coincidences did happen, but when the mystery philanthropist turned out to be her seatmate, she began to suspect he was up to something.

Mystery Guy stuffed a novel into the seat pouch close to his knees, finger-combed his light brown hair into place, and turned toward her. Just so you know, I’m not stalking you.

Kenzie smiled. Well, that’s a relief. I wouldn’t want to sit next to a stalker for the next twelve hours. He seemed nice enough, but just in case, she’d better drop a hint so he knew she wasn’t available.  Besides, I don’t think my boyfriend would be happy to know that someone was stalking me.

Your boyfriend?

Yes. He’s almost my fiancé. 

Almost?

Yes. We’re promised. She held out the gold locket Mike had given her the night before she left her farm home outside Hutchinson, Kansas.  We’ve talked about marriage. He’s probably just waiting for me to return from this trip to pop the question. Flowers and music in some secluded spot.

Ah. A romantic.

Yes.

Muscular too, I suppose.

He was taunting her. Keep it light. He’s probably just being friendly. Bulging with muscles.

He raised an eyebrow. Well then, I guess I’d better not mess with you.

She grinned. That’s right. She slipped the airline magazine from the pocket in front of her and started to thumb through it. That should shut him up.

He leaned her direction. "By the way, you can tell your almost fiancé that I merely traded seats with a woman so all her family could be seated together."

Of course.  Her paranoia had stolen her politeness. And my boyfriend appreciates you paying for my extra luggage. Me, too, but I want to repay you. It would make me feel much better. Do you have PayPal or Google Pay or something?

I have Google Pay, but I think we could work out an easier way to do this transaction.

Google Pay is fine by me. Just give me your details and I’ll get it to you on January first. She really wanted to pay Mr. Friendly back and bring closure to this strange situation. I have plenty of money, it’s just that ... well, this trip came up rather suddenly. I didn’t want to raise the limit on my charge card in case of theft and I thought I had all the money I needed to get to New Zealand.

Don’t worry about it. I can sense that you aren’t going to New Zealand just to be a tourist. I think you want to help people. Am I right?

Paranoia or not, this guy’s smile was edged with something she couldn’t quite define. Who was he? Some psychic or twenty-first century prophet? Either one set off red warning lights in her mind. I would like to help people, but I’m not asking for donations.

Okay. You can pay me back then. His eyes twinkled. Unless you happen to be a Christian who’s going to New Zealand to spread the gospel, help at a church or Christian camp, that kind of thing.

Creepy. He’s just given a concise job description of my six-week mission trip and I’ve never seen him before? Time to pay up and end this relationship. Kenzie pulled the fifty-dollar bill from her bag and dropped it onto his lap. Look, Auckland is not my final destination so I don’t have anyone meeting me who can pay you back. Here’s a third of what I owe you. If you give me your details, I promise I’ll reimburse you on January first. That’s when I can draw out more cash.

He smoothed out the wrinkles in the bill and held it out to her. But you might need some money in Auckland. You might want to eat something before your connecting flight.

She folded her arms. I’m on a diet. I can go without.

Okay. He shrugged, released his tray table and spread the fifty-dollar bill on the top corner of the tray. After pulling a pen from his pocket he scribbled on a barf bag. Finished with his scrawl, he dropped the barf bag onto her lap in the precise way she’d dropped the fifty dollars onto his.

Too friendly, too helpful, doesn’t take hints about wanting to be left alone. Now he’s taunting a total stranger. This can’t be good. Fingers shaking, she shoved the white bag to the bottom of her purse.

He raised one eyebrow. You’re not going to read it? Check me out?

She would wipe that smirk off his face with the not welcome mat expression she’d only had to use once before. Why should I? I can’t pay you back now anyway.

Suit yourself. I can see you’d rather not talk so I’ll just check the movie selection. He pushed his seat back a few inches, put his headphones on, and touched the screen in front of him.

Am I overreacting here? His words and actions didn’t add up to a threat, but they didn’t quite add up to anything she could understand either. Within five minutes Kenzie had a fierce desire for a breath mint and plucked her purse from its position at her feet. While she rummaged through it she peeked at the addressed barf bag.

Levi Oliver. Like most left-handers she knew, he had terrible handwriting. Not that it mattered. She didn’t even finish reading the other details. She recognized the name. She dropped her purse to the floor and pushed it under the seat ahead of her with her toe. You’re the other apprentice. Thanks a lot for creeping me out.

How? By paying for your extra bag?

Kenzie took a deep breath and allowed her heart rate to drop back to normal. Look, I appreciate your help. I do. But single women travelling alone have to be pretty careful how friendly they get with total strangers.

Sorry. He stared at the fifty on his tray. Will you forgive me if I give you your fifty dollars back and call it even?

Kenzie folded her arms. I’m going to pay you back.

Levi shrugged. If it makes you feel better, I’ll accept it. And you can tell your almost fiancé that I’m happy to be single and I’m going to New Zealand for ministry, not to find a wife.

Kenzie took the bill and shoved it into her wallet. I’ll be sure to tell him, even though he trusts me not to flirt with other guys. I insisted on paying my way, but Mike booked all my flights for me. He found me a great deal and saved me lots of time. He fully supports my mission trip, even when the final details came up so suddenly.

"Sudden is right. Two weeks isn’t much time to get ready. He nudged the laptop computer at his feet with one toe. I brought every sermon I’ve ever preached plus my game file from a class at my Christian university. That’s 147 sermons and devotionals and 793 games. I’m ready for anything."

Dana Fischer asked me to organize the crafts for family camp. All those craft supplies are why I had so much luggage.

Flight attendants on the screen proceeded to explain safety measures to take in event of a crash, using All Blacks, New Zealand’s rugby stars, to get across the message. It still seemed weird to have New Zealand teams like All Blacks and All Whites which had nothing to do with skin color.

Levi pushed his tray table into its upright position. When the announcement was over, he leaned on the aisle armrest and spoke in her direction. This mission trip is such a great opportunity. We should be able to do a lot, even in seven weeks. Six weeks plus travel, but seven Sundays. I want to leave part of me behind when I return.

She smiled. What body part are you planning to live without?

I’m talking goals. Goals are good, right? The Fischers’ youth group has only four people in it. I’d like to double that. Connor’s nineteen and faithful, so he’ll probably become a great youth leader. I want to mentor him and leave resources behind for him to adapt for games and youth activities. And I’m praying the Lord will let me lead four people to Christ.

Kenzie smiled. Not expecting much out of seven weeks, are you?

I believe in goals. William Carey said, ‘Expect great things from God ...’

‘... attempt great things for God. Oh me of little faith.

The pilot announced take-off and the plane began to move. Were they really still on the ground half an hour after being seated?

At least Levi’s enthusiastic. Maybe he was an okay guy, just excited about the trip as she was. Kenzie flipped the channels on the screen ahead of her, searching for clean entertainment to fill her twelve-hour flight. 

She wouldn’t let Levi or anyone else spoil this trip for her. Her senior recital, a requirement of a music major at her Bible college, demanded six hours of piano practice a day, seven days a week for seven months straight. The hard work made her feel she’d been a true steward of the gifts God had given her. On the night of the recital, playing Movement by Claude Debussy incredibly fast and pulling it off at performance speed was the most awesome feeling. God had honored her work and given her a near flawless performance that wowed the audience.

Even then, when her friends took off on mission trips around the world, it almost made her wish she’d majored in missions. She’d spent two years after Bible college working as a bank teller, de-tasseling corn, and doing other farm jobs to pay her bills. Just when she’d paid the last dime, her pastor had approached her with this opportunity. She couldn’t say no.

Her mom had gone ballistic. She could almost hear her mother now. MacKenzie Nicole Dixon, what are you thinking of? Helping out missionaries is a wonderful thing, but can you imagine how much it will cost? Airfare to the other side of the world plus seven weeks living expenses?

Several thousand dollars.

You’ve just barely paid off your college bills.

That’s what credit cards are for.

That’s ridiculous. You know how much interest that will cost?

Yes. Daddy said he would loan me the money interest free, but I’m twenty-four now. This is something I need to do by myself.

You have better things to save for. Unless I miss my guess, there’s a wedding not far away. Do you know what weddings cost?

We’ll elope, if that makes you feel any better.

Be serious, MacKenzie. Soon you’ll have babies and after that comes homeschooling. Shouldn’t you focus on building your marriage instead of gallivanting off to the other side of the world on an expensive trip?

How could her mom understand this feeling inside her when Kenzie couldn’t even explain it to herself? That’s exactly why I need to do this now. I won’t be able to take off by myself after I’m married and mother to a houseful of kids. I can earn the money when I return. I’ll teach piano lessons and work on the side. I paid my school bill off, didn’t I? That was massive. I appreciate the part you and Daddy paid on that, but I’ve been working like a slave all throughout four years of Bible college and two years since. I’ve always wanted to take a mission trip and this is probably my last chance. Can’t you be happy for me?

But Mom would never understand this luxury. The older woman had married early, raised and homeschooled a family of seven kids, driven a tractor, raised prize-winning vegetables and chickens, and managed finances for the farm. She expected Kenzie to do the same. And she would. She just wanted one last chance to experience missions first hand.

Kenzie couldn’t preach like Levi could, but she could teach kids and lead crafts at family camp. She could talk to the teenage girls about purity and dating. And Dana had hinted she might give Tegan some piano tips. Maybe she could do the same kind of things back in Kansas, but deep inside something called to her. She didn’t know what it was, though maybe her pastor would understand.

This was her last chance to answer that call.

Chapter 3

Levi’s eyes closed in Christchurch and didn’t open again until Pastor Greg nudged him awake. Outside the car window a single ornate column adorned a limestone city limit sign about fifteen feet tall. Deep chiseled letters spelled out Oamaru, his place of ministry for the next seven weeks. He had planned to pump Pastor Greg with questions during the whole ride home from the airport. Twenty hours on cramped planes and six hours in airports, however, had to catch up with a body somewhere.

MacKenzie snuffled herself awake and sat up in the back seat. They drove through the town, much like any town of fourteen thousand people in America. Turning into a residential area they passed barefoot kids on bikes, a man painting a fence, and neighbors in garden gloves chatting.

Soon Pastor Greg pulled into the driveway of a brick and white stucco house. Just across the street a family were playing cricket with a long, flat bat.

Welcome to your new home, Pastor Greg said.

Levi gathered his computer bag and camera and stepped out to stretch his long, cramped legs. When a cricket ball rolled across the street, Levi grabbed it and tossed it back to the family. They called out their thanks and he turned to greet the missionary wife whose testimony he’d heard more than once over the years.

Blond and fiftyish, Dana hadn’t changed much from their most recent prayer card. Approaching his new co-worker, he stuck out his hand. Nice neighborhood, Mrs. Fischer. I’m Levi.

She shook his hand briefly but firmly. Hi, Levi. Just call us Dana and Pastor Greg.

Informal. That made things easier. I see you’ve met McCarrot Top Dixon.

"Yes, I’ve met MacKenzie." Dana never cracked a smile or lifted an eyebrow.

She led them up several steps and into the hallway of the house, then turned to glance back at him. Levi, you might want to watch out there by your shoulder.

As Levi turned, he jostled a huge airplane plant. A black snake lunged from the leaves. Ahhh! He yelled as he leapt across the hallway into the living room. His heart hammered an unfamiliar beat.

MacKenzie smirked.  Hey, Levi, you gotta watch out for those rubber snakes. They’ll get you every time.

He knew they didn’t have real snakes in New Zealand so why had he over-reacted to the rubber one? Oh well. At least they weren’t afraid to laugh here, and in new situations, when rational thought deserted him, humor was his number one compensation tool.

The medium blonde and the petite redhead led the way into the dining room/kitchen area. These two women could hold their own, which was good.  Humor was so much more fun when you didn’t have to worry about offending anyone.  

After offering them a drink, Dana showed them around the house that would be their new home. It was similar to American homes, with a few differences. MacKenzie admired the molded plaster ceilings, leadlight windows, and wood paneled hallway. The house was a little old-school for Levi, but he was pleased that he knew the Kiwi terms for the rooms and could use them during the tour. The living room was called the lounge, like in the board game Clue. The restroom was the toilet, not just the white throne but the whole room. The sink was in a separate room with the shower and tub which they called, of all things, the bathroom. Pastor Greg’s office had been moved into their bedroom so Levi could sleep in his office. MacKenzie would sleep in the guest room.

So, Levi, Dana said as they finished the tour, I see you’ve done your homework on Kiwi vocabulary.

He shrugged. Spent a little time on the internet, that’s all. I was surprised at all the differences between American and Kiwi English, but a mission trip isn’t complete without some language differences.

Pastor Greg helped Levi and MacKenzie unload their luggage and bring it inside. Levi settled into his new bedroom in two minutes, including changing into a short-sleeved shirt, and joined the gray-haired pastor and his attractive wife in the dining room. Ten minutes later MacKenzie walked in and unloaded a pile of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and several cans of green chiles onto the kitchen table. 

Did she have to do that? Now he looked cheap. Maybe he should have brought a hostess gift, though on the other hand, he didn’t have to rely on a stranger to pay for his extra bags. Dana gave them small glasses of water with no ice and set a plate of