Finally & Forever (6 page)

“I wish I felt better. I would love to go right now.”

“It wouldn’t be very enjoyable since the trails are muddy. But the rains are subsiding. We’ll have plenty of good weather soon. You and I can go another day. Meanwhile, I need to pick up our clothes at the laundry. Eli, are you scheduled to work at the Coffee Bar today?”

“I’m there from one o’clock until nine. Dad said a group is arriving this afternoon from one of the well projects. I don’t remember which one.”

Katie headed for the door. “I’m going back to my room. I’ll be at the dining room for lunch. And if I decide to sleep through lunch, don’t worry. I’ll be there for dinner.”

“Wait.” Eli reached for his jacket that was slung over the back of a kitchen chair. “I’ll walk you down to your room.”

Katie didn’t protest. She let Eli hold the yellow umbrella as she linked her arm in his and leaned close while they walked together in the rain.

“I wish I didn’t feel so tired and have this stupid infection going on. I’d like to start doing something useful, like help you again at the Coffee Bar.”

“You probably should wait until you at least have some antibiotics in you to kick that infection.”

“Infection-schmection. I’m here to serve. If it’s not a good idea for me to be around food, I can at least carry boxes. When is your dad moving into the new office?”

“I’m not sure. A few days. Maybe a week.”

“Whenever it is, I’m sure I’ll be fine by then. Put me on the list for the moving team. I want to help.”

“I know you do. But, Katie, here’s the thing. It’s not all about doing. It’s about being. You need to just let yourself ‘be’ here first before you start doing stuff.”

She didn’t know if it was because she was tired or chilled from the rain, but Eli’s words ricocheted around in her head without landing anywhere. What he said didn’t make a lot of sense to her.

“What about you?” Katie asked. “How come you’re not just ‘being’? You’re jetlagged too, but you’re doing a lot. Your dad didn’t hesitate to put you right to work.”

Eli didn’t respond.

“Is that not a fair question?” Katie asked.

“No. It’s just something else.”

“What?”

Eli stalled.

“What is it?”

He still hesitated.

Katie stopped walking and gave Eli’s arm a tug. “Listen, you’re the one who has been convincing me to be honest and open about what I’ve been feeling and thinking ever since we got on the airplane together. This is not a one-sided relationship, Eli. I’m being transparent with you. Now it’s your turn. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s my dad,” Eli said.

He started down the pathway again and Katie fell into stride with him. “What about your dad?”

“He and I don’t see eye to eye on some things.”

“Is it me? Does your dad think I shouldn’t have come?”

“No, it’s not you. Not at all. It’s me. About what my role is here. I want to get out to the villages, and I really wished I’d been able to go with the team from Rancho that went to a village last week. I like being with the teams.”

Katie waited to hear why that was a problem.

“My dad assumed that when I came back I’d take over his role in the office so he could do more administrative work for the mission.”

“Can’t you do both?”

“Yes. And that’s how things are here, as I know you’ve noticed. Everyone does several things. But I don’t want to get stuck in the office. I don’t want to be tied down to Brockhurst. I want to be on the move. I told him I wanted to write my own job description and see what he thought of it.”

“And what are you going to put in your job description?”

“Team trainer, onsite team leader, facilitator in the villages, and scout to villages to determine best candidates for the next well project.”

“Sounds like you’ve already written it.”

“I have, in my head. But I didn’t add anything about office work. My dad said the reason they’re expanding the office was because he told them I was going to be onsite full-time.” Eli let out a huff. “I just don’t like him assuming things, you know? He never asked what I wanted to do.”

Katie couldn’t explain it but she felt closer to Eli after hearing he was having conflicts with his dad. At first his family had seemed so perfect. Ideal in every way. But now that she knew that Cheryl and Jim had lost a baby boy and that Eli was feeling pressured to live up to his father’s expectations, she felt as if she fit in more, with all of her imperfections.

“It’s good that you and your dad are at least able to talk things out.” Katie had often wished she could experience that luxury with her parents.

“True. But here’s the thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been under my parents’ roof, and in our conversations so far my dad keeps talking to me like I’m a teenager. Before I was at Rancho, I taught at a mission school in southern Kenya. Before that I was in Spain. I haven’t stayed with my parents for almost four years. I’m not sure it’s going to work for me to stay in the room they have set up for me. I mean, I love them. Both of them. I love being with them. But I think if my dad is going to see me as a grown man, I have to be in my own space.”

“Are you thinking of moving into the Monkey Motel with me?”

Eli pulled back and gave Katie a curious look.

“I don’t mean with me. Stop looking at me like that. You know what I mean. You can move into one of the other rooms in that building.”

“I’ll probably go to the building at the top of the grounds near the laundry facilities. They call it Upper Nine, and they don’t put guests there because the rooms are older. I wouldn’t be taking a good room that might be needed for conferences and guests.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“To us, yes. I didn’t approach the topic with my dad yet. He was too adamant about the other thing with the office and my position here.”

They were at the door of her room, standing under the overhang as the rain tap-danced on the red tile roof. Around them the elephant-ear-sized leaves of the thick foliage bowed from the weight of the rain and dripped with an uneven rhythm. She felt as if the cool air around them was pressing against her, taking her breath and causing her to shiver.

“Thanks for listening, Katie.”

“Of course. Anytime. And thanks for the rile. I’ll see you in a little wide.”

“The rile? A little wide?” Eli questioned.

“A-little-while,” Katie overcorrected herself. “You know what I meant. I must be more tired than I thought. I was going to say thanks for the ride, but it was a walk, not a ride. And then I said … Oh, never mind. I just need to go to bed.” She pulled the key to her door out of her shoulder bag and opened the door to her chilly room.

“You sure you’re okay? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, I just need some sleep. That’s all. I’m fine. Really.”

“Okay.” He gave her a warm hug. “Get some sleep, and I’ll see you in a little wide. I’ll even take you for another rile if you want.”

Katie managed a half smile before she went inside and closed the door. The first thing she did was change into warmer clothes. She towel-dried her hair from the moisture that clung to her red, swishy mane and found a pair of socks, which she put on over the pair she already was wearing. Crawling under the covers, Katie pulled up both blankets and continued to shiver. She just couldn’t get warm.

I should have asked Eli to bring me another blanket. Although I don’t know if they have only a limited number, and I’ve already been allotted two blankets, while some people staying here might only have one
.

As tired as she was, Katie wasn’t able to get any sort of a nap going. Her thoughts kept bouncing all over the place.
Malaria, Andrew, antibiotics,
cherry-flavored throat spray, Rick, roses, New Zealand glacier water …

Katie remembered the bottle of New Zealand glacier water Eli had brought to her on Valentine’s Day when she was sick. He said he remembered it was her favorite. She would love a sip of water right now. Her head felt hot. So hot. Katie kicked back the blankets and tried to cool off her poor, confused body.

This is awful. I feel like I have the flu. Please, Lord, no, not the flu. Don’t let me get sick. Please let there be antibiotics for this infection. Please heal me
.

Katie heard a knock on the door and was certain Eli had ignored her insistence an hour ago when she told him she didn’t need anything. He must have come back to check in on her.

Katie called out, “It’s open.”

The door opened, but it wasn’t Eli who entered. It was a woman Katie didn’t know.

“Hi, Katie. Do you mind if I come in? I’m Dr. Powell’s wife. He wanted me to bring you this.” The short woman walked over to Katie’s bedside and handed her a small, white envelope.

“Is it the antibiotics?”

“No, it’s some amphetamine to help with the discomfort. He hasn’t been able to locate any antibiotics yet.”

Katie felt a sense of panic rise in her along with her fever. “Do I need to go to Nairobi to try to get some?” The thought of riding on that bumpy road the way she felt right now made her ache even more.

“I’m not sure. He’ll let you know. Just rest. That’s the best thing. Do you need anything else?”

“No. I mean, yes.”

“What can I get for you?”

Katie paused. She wanted to say, “I need you to get Eli so he can take care of me the way he did last Valentine’s Day.” But instead she said, “Nothing. No. Never mind. Thanks for checking on me. I just need to sleep.”

She left, and Katie rolled over on her side.

I feel like such a wimp. Dr. Powell and his wife must see an endless variety of terrible diseases. Here I am, acting delirious and fragile, as if I’m about to die
.

She told herself all she had was a small, infected wound. And a fever. And a headache. Come to think of it, her throat was pretty sore too.

What’s wrong with me? Am I getting seriously ill?

Katie pressed her hand to her forehead and tried to gauge her fever. She was perspiring but her feet were still cold.

This can’t be good. What if …
A paralyzing thought washed over her.
What if I have malaria?

K
atie checked her arms closely and tried to remember if any mosquitoes had bitten her over the last few days. She didn’t recall any. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t found her and bit her when she wasn’t looking. She could be infected with malaria, a very real, life-threatening disease at this moment and not know it.

This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be thinking these things. Just because Eli’s infant brother died of malaria, that doesn’t mean I’m going to die — if I do have it, which I probably don’t. But what if I do?

Her heart pounded, and she wanted to cry, but even her tears seemed too afraid to make an appearance.

What’s wrong with me? Why do I keep getting hit by these waves of panic? I feel as if I’m going to lose my mind. I am so afraid
.

The moment Katie thought the word
afraid
, it was as if she’d named the culprit of her bouts of panic. It was fear. Intense, chaotic fear like she’d never known before.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power and love and a sound mind
.

The verse that exploded in her thoughts at that moment was one Eli had quoted twice on their long flight, in the middle of their heart-to-heart conversations. The truth calmed her now as it had calmed her then. She reminded herself that the fear she was feeling wasn’t from God. His Spirit gave her power, love, and a sound mind. No fear. She
wanted those qualities to be present in her life right now. She needed them to overturn the doubt, fear, and instability.

Katie closed her eyes and prayed. As she did, she felt the sense of panic loosen completely and a longed-for sense of calm came over her. Her thoughts cleared. She stretched out her legs and breathed more steadily. A constant awareness of God’s presence and his powerful protection over her filled her thoughts. He was here, with her, in this small room in Kenya. At this moment, he seemed even closer to her than he had when she was in California. Perhaps she felt that way because she realized how much she needed him.

Whatever the reason, her prayer that fear be abolished had an immediate and powerful effect: the panic was gone.

Another note to self: If you’re going to spend most of your young adult years asking God to bring more adventure into your life, don’t turn into a timid little coward when he answers your prayers in a big way. Trust him
.

Reaching for the two pills in the envelope, she took them without water and told herself that all the unknowns could remain unknowns while she slept. She couldn’t do anything at the moment to hunt down the antibiotics. She couldn’t do anything if she had malaria. God knew. He cared. He could work out the details while she slept. Katie closed her eyes and felt as if she were being tucked in under an invisible blanket of peace.

When she woke, Katie noticed that the rain had stopped. She checked her watch and saw that it was 5:40 in the evening. A gleam of sunset light found its way through the open space between the two nearly closed edges of the window curtains and left an amber line across Katie’s gray blanket.

The wound on her shoulder still hurt, but the rest of her confusing symptoms seemed to have calmed down. She felt hungry and considered it a good sign she was ready for dinner. Getting up and washing her face, Katie hoped she would feel like her old energetic self pretty soon.

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, brushed her teeth, and changed into a less crumpled top. Pulling on her warmest jacket,
she opened her door and took in the view of the verdant landscape drenched in melting, buttery light. It seemed like a different world from the one she had been sloshing through the past few days. The remaining raindrops on the deep green foliage gleamed like liquid emeralds.

Something small and fluttery flew around Katie in somnolent loops. At first she thought it was a moth. But it didn’t behave like a moth. A twin to the languid creature joined it, and pretty soon Katie seemed to be caught up in the middle of a dance of these tiny insects with their thin, fairy wings.

She stood still and watched them flutter around her. Reaching out her hand, Katie nearly caught one. The twilight glow of the evening gave them a luminescence like she never had seen on any insect in the United States.

The door to the last room in Building A opened, and a short man exited wearing a business suit and carrying an umbrella. He was bald, had dark skin, and wore small, wire-rimmed glasses. He noticed Katie and said something in French as he walked toward her.

“Hello,” Katie replied. “I’m sorry, I only speak English.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, switching to English. “American?”

“Yes.”

“Are you on your way to dinner?”

“Yes. I had to stop and watch these moths or whatever they are. They’re beautiful.”

The man chuckled. “Those are not moths. They’re termites. Flying termites.”

“Termites? Are you sure?”

“Yes.
Absolument
. Where I live we call them flying peanuts.”

“Why is that? Are they shaped like a peanut?”

“No. Because we eat them like a snack. Like a peanut.”

If Eli were the one telling Katie this, she’d think it might be a big tease just to get a reaction out of her. But this man seemed serious.

“You eat these?” Katie watched as more of the “flying peanuts” fluttered around them with graceful ease. It seemed impossible that
termites could be so elegant, let alone be the ideal African “to go” snack.

“Yes. Like this.” The man waited until just the right moment, quickly snatched one of the termites, and held it in his fist.

Katie put her hand over her mouth. Her stomach did a flip-flop as she thought she was about to watch this man chomp into the termite.

“First, you pull off the wings.”

“Pull off the wings?”

“Yes. You don’t eat the wings.”

“To be honest, I don’t think I could eat the termite, actually. Wings or no wings. Sorry.”

“Maybe you like them better roasted. We make them that way. They come out after the rains to mate, and they make these crowds like this.”

Katie had a feeling he meant “swarms” instead of “crowds,” but she knew what he was referring to. It surprised and humbled her that this man knew English so well. She would never be able to have a complex conversation with someone who spoke only French, German, or Swahili.

“After the rains, we dig a small hole and beat the ground with sticks. And they come.” He opened his hand and let the tiny marvel go free.

Katie was fascinated. “You beat the ground, and they come?”

“Yes.”

“Why do they do that?”

“I don’t know.” He grinned, revealing several gaps where teeth once had been. “So we can eat them, I suppose.”

Katie smiled back at him.

“We get them together and …” He made a pounding motion by cupping one hand and using his fist to demonstrate the sort of mashing and grinding one would do with a mortar and pestle.

“You grind them?” Katie asked.

“Yes, yes. We grind them into something …” He rubbed his thumb and fingers together.

“Like a flour? Or a paste?”

“Yes, yes. Like that.”

“And then what do you do with it?”

“You can cook it and eat it.”

Katie wanted to flippantly say, “You might cook it and eat, but you’ll never catch me doing that.” She knew she couldn’t say that. She needed to respect this man’s culture.

“Shall we go to dinner?” he suggested.

Somehow Katie wasn’t quite as hungry as she had felt a little while ago.

“I am Bin.” The man took the first steps away from the flurry of termites and headed toward the dining hall.

“Bin?”
Like a trash bin? What an odd name
.

“Yes, Bin.”

“Hi, Bin. I’m Katie. Where are you from?”

“The Democratic Republic of the Congo.”

Katie planned to spend more time studying a map of Africa so she could mentally envision where each country was. She knew that French was the common language in many West African countries in the same way that English was the main communication form in many East African countries. She had picked up that detail the other night around the dinner table when Eli’s dad explained which world power had the most influence on which parts of Africa during the colonization era.

Venturing a fairly educated guess based on his speaking French, she asked, “And that is located in West Africa, right?”

“Central Africa.”

“What brings you here?” Katie asked.

“I am receiving training at the conference for pastors.”

“Oh, you’re a pastor. That’s wonderful.”

“Yes, it is wonderful. I have been in prison only two times for preaching the gospel. Now I am able to move about and come here to attend this training. God has been very good to me. Very good.”

Katie tried to take in what he had just said — in prison
only
two times — and still he said God had been good to him.

They walked together silently for a bit. It was nice not to be walking in the rain. All around them the green grass and revived foliage seemed to show off how squeaky clean they were after the showers. Katie loved the fresh fragrance in the air. She felt honored to be with someone who took his role as a pastor so seriously that he would go to prison for his faith.

How different he was from any pastor she had ever met. And not just because of his gourmet taste for flying termites.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

“God, pretty much.”

He gave her a sideways glance, as if he didn’t understand her comment. Her wit didn’t seem to translate well.

“What I mean is that I’m here because God opened up an opportunity for me to come and help out. I’ve only been here a few days. I came with a friend of mine, Eli Lorenzo. Do you know him? He grew up in Zambia.”

“I don’t know him.”

“I will be sure to introduce you.”

They entered the dining hall, and the first thing Katie noticed was the abundance of African men wearing suits. Others were dressed in their native garb with headdresses and colorful shirts or long robes that had designs running up and down both sides.

Her companion bid her farewell and headed across the room with his hand extended, ready to greet another man whose face lit up in an eager smile when he saw Bin.

The fellowship around the tables seemed more charged with energy than it had been any other night. Every man seemed to have lots to say and was eager to greet all the other conferees. Katie noticed Eli’s parents seated across from one of the pastors. The three of them were engaged in such a deep conversation that none of them were eating.

Katie thought it best not to impose herself on their private circle, so she sat by a woman from Scotland who served in the laundry facilities. She was quite a bit older than Katie and had wide shoulders and a fair, smooth complexion. Her accent was fun to listen to. She told Katie she had been at Brockhurst for eighteen months and loved what she did, washing laundry.

Since the twenty-four cottages and the many motel-like rooms didn’t come with individual washing facilities, all the laundry was done at a central location. Eli had familiarized Katie with how it worked and that she needed to pay various rates in Kenyan shillings for whatever she had washed. So far she had managed to rinse some of her things in the sink and hang them to dry over the bathtub.

“And what is it you love to do, Katie?” the woman from Scotland asked her.

Katie didn’t have an answer. “Just about anything. I’m here to help.”

“Yes, every young woman I have met from the West has come to help. They want to do something important and useful so they can go home knowing that they helped to change Africa.” She picked up her teaspoon and wagged it at Katie. “The surprise you will discover is that you will not change Africa, my dear. No, Africa will change you.”

The words stirred something deep in Katie’s heart. She kept her unblinking gaze fixed on the woman.

With evenly paced words the woman said, “The key is for you to discover what you love to do, what you were created to do, and then do it for the people around you with love. That is the abundant life, dear girl, no matter where in the world you live.”

Katie slowly swallowed her last taste of something that reminded her of rice pudding and thought about her dinner companion’s statement. She wished Eli wasn’t working at the Coffee Bar so he could have joined her for dinner. It would be interesting to hear his impression of what had just been said.

“Lovely sitting with you, Katie.”

“Yes, lovely sitting with you.” Katie wished she could remember the woman’s name. She knew it would come to her later. She also knew it would be an important name to remember since she was one of the permanent residents.

Katie lingered a few minutes by herself, thinking and letting the wise counsel she’d just received sink into her soul. Lingering was a significant step for her. She was learning how to slow down a little and sit at the table after she had finished eating. She might have practiced that skill a bit longer, but she was eager to get over to the Coffee Bar to see Eli.

Rising from her seat, Katie carried her dinner dishes to an open window area where the uniformed kitchen staff received them, scraping and stacking them in what seemed like an orderly, British manner. Katie said hello to the young woman who reached for her plate and then thanked the woman for doing such a great job.

“You’re welcome.” The young woman sounded American. She had cinnamon-colored hair, fair skin, and lots of freckles.

“Where are you from?” Katie asked.

“Kansas.”

“I guess you’re not in Kansas anymore.” Katie tried to make it sound like the reference to the
Wizard of Oz
was apparent.

The young woman smiled kindly, as if she had heard that joke one too many times. “What about you?” she asked.

“I’m from California,” Katie said. “I went to Rancho Corona University.”

“I’ve heard of that school. I have a friend who went there.”

“Really? Who? I might know them.”

“Sierra Jensen.”

“Are you kidding me? I know Sierra. How do you know her?”