Out of the Shadows (10 page)

He was standing near the window sipping coffee and watching her approach. She sensed that his anger had subsided. Perhaps the coffee had helped his mood.

Sporadic silence characterized their breakfast, as conversation was limited to essentials related to the meal. Leslie managed to eat about half her pancakes and drink a glass of orange juice. Feeling considerably stronger, she emptied the last of the coffee from the carafe into their cups. “Ben, if you don’t mind, I kind of want to talk about...yesterday.” She glanced up from the cup to catch his gaze. “Could you explain, um... What happened with that man?”

Ben finished the last of his omelet and leaned back. He was calmer and more in control now. He sighed and took a sip of coffee before he answered. “Beatings of that sort happen pretty much on a daily basis here. Kenyans, particularly those in the cities, deplore thievery—it’s much too common. Plus, they don’t really trust the police or court systems, so they’re willing to take matters into their own hands.” He toyed with a spoon, twirling it nervously between his fingers. “I’m not sure how accurate the tales are, but I’ve heard that at least one person is killed each day in situations like what happened yesterday. I saw something similar once before when a woman’s purse was snatched. She started screaming, and the guy was surrounded by a mob in seconds.”

Leslie waited, but he didn’t continue. Her voice was quiet. “What happened that time?”

“Leslie, I don’t think...” He placed the spoon on the table and frowned.

“What
happened?
”

He stared at his coffee and sighed. “The crowd dispersed quickly. The man was obviously dead. There was nothing anyone could do then, and nothing that could have stopped the people yesterday.” His eyes were full of compassion. “I’m sorry you witnessed it.”

“Ben, I didn’t witness it, I
caused
it.” Distress marred her words, and tears threatened again.

“No!” He spoke the word so adamantly that he nearly spilled his coffee. “No!” he repeated. He pushed his coffee out of the way and grasped her hands. “Stop thinking that! You didn’t cause it. You just reacted to the man stealing your bag. The man...the crowd caused it. They were responsible. Not you.”

His gaze moved from her eyes to their joined hands. “Look, if either of us is to blame, it’s me. Leslie, I should have stayed closer to you. You dropped back to watch the kids... If I hadn’t walked ahead of you, the man most likely wouldn’t have grabbed your bag.” He reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Don’t blame yourself,” he added quietly.

Ben’s tenderness and touch made Leslie nervous again. She pulled away and spent a minute tidying the room-service cart to avoid looking at him. Finally, he reached out and stilled her. “Leave that for now. We need to talk about something else.”

She sat back and looked at him squarely. His expression was wary. “Okay. What is it?”

“Leslie, you got quite a lot of blood on your hands and face and shirt from the bag. The soda and water at the restaurant removed most of it, I think.” His concern was evident. “But...Leslie, you know there’s a possibility you might have been exposed to HIV. Guys like that—guys from the street—many of them are positive.” Leslie watched as his worry became more apparent, and she rushed to dispel his apprehension.

“Ben. It’s probably fine. What you did really minimized the exposure. Plus, I don’t have any scrapes or cuts, and I don’t think I got any in my eyes.” She continued, “Regardless, Mama Joe keeps AIDS medications at the clinic, along with protocols on postexposure prophylaxis. I’ll read them over and maybe even call someone back in Dallas to see if I need to do anything.” She gave him a brief smile—of reassurance, she hoped. “You know, just in case.”

He nodded but did not smile back. “Okay. That sounds like a good idea.” He rose. “We need to be going.”

She followed his example but reached out to touch his arm. “Ben, thank you again for...well, for everything. And I’m truly sorry for messing up your evening.”

He whirled back to face her squarely. “Damn it! Would you
please
stop apologizing!” He took a deep breath when she stepped back in retreat. “Look, you didn’t mess up anything.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed deeply. There was nowhere he would rather have been last night than here with her.

“Leslie, it’s okay. I should be the one to apologize.” Holding her gaze with his, he touched her hand lightly in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture before turning away. “It’s getting late,” he added as he started to stuff items into his backpack. “We need to think about heading home.”

Suddenly, she slapped her hand over her mouth and exclaimed,
“Oh no!”
Her eyes were huge. “Justin! I totally forgot about meeting Justin last night!”

Ben’s irritation evaporated. “Don’t worry.” He clenched his jaw to keep from grinning as he answered, “I took care of Cooper.”

CHAPTER TEN

I
T
WAS
EARLY
evening on a Wednesday in late April. The brief rainy season was waning, and Ben was grateful for a dry field when he landed the Cessna at Namanga. He’d been gone for nearly three weeks, traveling over the lowlands of Eastern Africa, meeting with various collections of greedy, selfish and often evil men. It was a relief to be home for a few days, where he could relax his vigilance. He’d radioed Simon earlier in the day, and the tall Masai was waiting patiently in the shade of the large metal shed. The Jeep was parked nearby.

Simon jogged forward as Ben taxied to a halt. Together, they unloaded two medium-size boxes and a large ice chest from the plane’s cargo hold and placed them in the Jeep. Charles Endebbi’s teenage son joined the men to help refuel and clean the plane before pushing it into the shed.

Ben needed to make a stop on his way home. The boxes, he explained to Simon, contained books and supplies Judy Merdian had ordered for the kids’ schooling, and he knew she was anxious to get them. Because the Merdians lived near the center of town, Simon rode with Ben only a few miles before exiting the Jeep at a dirt path that snaked off into the savanna. It was difficult for the Jeep to traverse the area, and Simon and Ben both knew that with his loping run, Simon could cover the five miles to his home in about half an hour.

Johnny and Beth were playing on a tire swing in the yard when Ben’s Jeep pulled up. Their smiles were wide as they ran to meet the visitor.

Johnny yelled toward the house, “Mom! Mom! Uncle Ben’s here!” Together the children hugged the pilot when he squatted down to meet them.

“Did you bring us a sussie, Uncle Ben?” Beth asked excitedly. Her light brown hair had been pulled back into two no-longer-neat pigtails.

Ben laughed, and in a single motion he stood up and swung the little girl into his arms. “As a matter of fact, I did bring you something. I’ll bet you can’t guess what it is!”

“Is it something to play with?” Johnny questioned, tugging on Ben’s shirt.

“Nope. You wouldn’t want to play with it.”

“Is it something to wear?” Johnny asked with a concerned expression.

“Nope. Nothing to wear.” Ben grinned. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s something to eat!”

Judy had come out of the house and witnessed the exchange. Beth wiggled out of Ben’s arms and ran to her mother. “Mommy, Uncle Ben brought us a sussie.”

Judy smiled at the tired-looking man and gestured for him to come up to the house. “Ben, it’s good to have you back. We’ve missed you.”

“Boy, it’s good to be home, Judy. This trip was grueling. I’m anxious to get to the house to rest, but I wanted to drop these by first.” He walked back to the Jeep and lifted one of the boxes.

“Wonderful! Our new schoolbooks!” exclaimed Judy. She hurried forward to open the door.

Ben heard Johnny groan as he maneuvered through the door. “Oh, man. That’s just books and school stuff.” After Ben had carried in the second box, he turned to grin at the disappointed eight-year-old. “Hey, just a minute, dude. The surprise isn’t books. Remember, I brought you something special to eat!” Returning to the vehicle, he reached into the large cooler. He pushed back what remained of the ice on top and pulled out two half-gallon cartons of ice cream. He turned to the two children, who were waiting anxiously only a step away, and handed them each a carton. Their eyes were huge.

“Wow! Ice cream! This is great!” Johnny cried loudly. “Mom, can we have some now?”

“Mommy, pleeease,” whined Beth.

Judy looked at Ben and winked. “Kids, it’s almost time for dinner....”

“Please, just a little?”

Judy sighed deeply. “Okay, but just a spoonful each. You can have a big bowl after dinner.” She turned to Ben and asked, “Can you stay? Paul’s in town helping Noah Mbruru with something on his computer and probably won’t be back until pretty late. He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had for a month,” Ben replied. “There’s nothing much at home other than cans of beans. And since you’re the best cook in Kenya...”

* * *

B
EN
PLAYED
WITH
the two older children while Judy finished dinner preparations in the kitchen. Through the door, she told him that Stephen was still napping. “Poor little guy,” she explained, “I took him to the clinic this morning because he didn’t sleep much at all last night. I wanted Leslie to look at him, and sure enough, he has a bad ear infection.”

Ben’s stomach responded with a quiver when Judy mentioned Leslie. During the past several weeks he’d found himself thinking of her much too frequently. She had become a serious distraction, and he didn’t need distractions. Even now, sitting in Paul and Judy’s home, he swore he could smell the lotion she used on her hands.

He wandered into the kitchen. “So how are things at the clinic?” He was pleased that he’d succeeded in sounding casual.

Judy did not look up from her task of slicing a pineapple. “Oh, the usual. There was a crowd of people waiting. I saw a child with a broken finger, a woman with AIDS complications, and everything in between.” She paused a minute and glanced at Ben. “Leslie seemed troubled, though. She was certainly not her usual self.” Her frown conveyed concern. “Something seemed to really be bothering her.”

Ben didn’t try to hide his interest. “What do you mean?”

Judy scraped the pineapple pieces into a bowl. “It’s a little difficult to pinpoint exactly. She seemed very happy to see us. She hugged me and the children, but she was edgy...like she would fall apart if someone just said ‘boo.’” She shrugged. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s always upbeat and eager to talk with the kids and me. But not today. She looked like she’d been crying or was trying not to cry.” She wiped her hands on a clean towel and turned to carry plates containing baked chicken, warm vegetables and homemade bread to the table. “The more I think about it, the more I’m worried.”

She turned back to him, and her expression mirrored her words. “I should have tried to talk with her this morning, but I was tired from being up with Stephen. You know, if Paul were here, I think I would send him over to visit with her tonight, or I might even go myself and spend the night. But with the kids...” Her voice trailed off.

Ben helped her carry plates and cutlery to the table. Judy’s concern was contagious. Was Leslie ill? Had something happened at the clinic? Had she received bad news from home? He tried to sound nonchalant. “I suppose I could stop by on my way home.”

“Would you?” Judy looked relieved. “I was kind of hoping you might. It’s probably nothing. She might just need someone from home to talk to... I get that way from time to time.”

Ben left right after dinner. He offered to help with the dishes, but Judy shooed him on, telling him that he needed to see Leslie and get home before he collapsed. At Judy’s suggestion, he took one of the cartons of ice cream.

“Don’t you know that ice cream is a cure for virtually every kind of malady—mental or physical?” Judy exclaimed. Laughingly, she added, “The only thing more effective is chocolate!”

Dusk was approaching when Ben pulled up to the clinic compound. Titus had evidently heard the vehicle, and he appeared from the direction of his cabin to open the gate.

“
Jambo,
young Ben,” the older man said. Ben returned the greeting and explained in Titus’s dialect that he had brought Leslie a gift. Titus nodded and hid a knowing smile as he closed the gate behind the Jeep and Ben parked the vehicle in front of the screened porch.

Ben grabbed the ice cream out of the cooler and climbed the steps to the front door. He suddenly felt awkward, and his heart rate rose. He was annoyed by his nervousness, and he paused a few seconds before knocking.

T
HE
DAY
AT
THE
CLINIC
had seemed interminable. The heat was stifling, and the dust seemed more pervasive than usual, despite the recent rain. Poverty, disease, ignorance and superstition had appeared insurmountable. And then there were the spiders....

After the last patient had finally departed, Leslie was uncharacteristically abrupt when she dismissed Naomi, Elizabeth and Agnes. The trio had gathered on the front porch, talking quietly together. She rushed outside to apologize and gave each woman a hug.

Finally alone, she lay down in her small room, wanting to rest for a few minutes before preparing something to eat. She removed her shoes and unbuttoned her shirt, hoping to cool off a little.

She was tired—physically and mentally. But her real problem was emotional. At her core, there was still a void where her heart used to be. Most of the time she was able to ignore it—but not today. The tears that had threatened all day were stinging the back of her eyes once more.

She stared at the stained ceiling and thought,
Time.
She needed time. She needed tomorrow to come. She closed her eyes and laid an arm over them, wishing she could sleep.

She might have dozed, for what seemed only a short time later, she heard a knock on the clinic door. She ignored it, but a few seconds later it was repeated. Again she ignored it. There was a third knock.

Her sense of duty surfaced enough to convince her that there must be some sort of problem or Titus would not have let the visitor inside the fence.
Oh, God.
She dragged herself to her feet.
Please let it be something simple. No death, please...

She made her way to the front door—before coming to a full stop. Ben Murphy stood on the other side of the screen with an expression that was an odd combination of impatience and nervousness. As usual, his hair was more or less neatly caught back in a ponytail, and he looked like he needed to shave. Distantly she noted that, contrasting with his sun-darkened face, his eyes seemed greener than she remembered and were fatigued. His clothing was slightly rumpled, and his customary white shirt loosely covered his broad chest and shoulders. Leslie was momentarily alarmed as the thought crossed her mind that he was extremely attractive. She blushed at her own musings.

Not now—she couldn’t deal with him now. When she reached the door, she stood there a moment before speaking. Her response to seeing him combined irritation and fascination; she chose to react with irritation. Through the screen door she said, “What do you want, Ben? Do you need something? You don’t look sick.”

Ben was alarmed by Leslie’s appearance and demeanor. She moved slowly and her pale countenance was virtually devoid of expression. Numerous wisps of shiny brown hair had escaped her ponytail, and her clothing was similarly in disarray. Her shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a white tank top, and the shirttail was pulled out of her waistband. Her feet were bare.

But he was exhausted, and her aggravation inflamed his. “Thanks, Les, it’s nice to see you, too,” he replied sarcastically.

Feeling duly chastised, she gave him a rueful smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s been a long day. I’m tired and not really feeling well.” She stopped, hoping he would take the hint and leave.

She looked as fragile as a piece of crystal that would shatter under the slightest pressure, and Ben’s concern intensified. He ignored her none-too-subtle prompt. “I just got back from Mombasa and brought some ice cream with me. I left a half gallon at Paul and Judy’s, but we thought you might like some, too.” He held out the container.

Ben suddenly looked sweet and boyish, fearful that his gift might be rejected. Touched, Leslie smiled again, this time with more sincerity. She pushed open the door and invited him in.

He studied her expression and, after a momentary pause, walked past her into the clinic. “Leslie, I didn’t mean to just barge in. I won’t stay but a minute—”

“No, it’s all right. Actually, I haven’t eaten yet and ice cream sounds wonderful.” She slipped past him and led the way through the clinic to the living quarters. When they reached the kitchen, she gestured to one of the chairs at the wooden table. “Here...sit down, and I’ll dish up the ice cream. How about coffee or tea?”

As he handed her the ice cream, their hands brushed. Heat speared through his gut at the contact. She quickly withdrew the carton, and he saw her blush.

“Actually, tea would be nice. Oh, by the way, if you’re interested,” he added, “there is still some ice in the cooler. It came from a safe source.”

That got a slight reaction from her. Clean ice was scarce, and the opportunity for iced drinks was severely limited. “Oh, yes, please. The heat has been awful, and iced tea would be wonderful.”

She put the kettle on the small stove to heat the water while he retrieved the ice chest from the Jeep. He was grinning when he returned carrying the cooler. “Look what else I found,” he said as he handed her two large bars of chocolate. She looked puzzled, so he explained, “Melt the chocolate in a small pan over the boiling water. Presto! Chocolate sundaes!”

He was finally rewarded with a real smile. “I don’t know if I can handle this,” she said with sincere enthusiasm as she took the candy bars. “Iced tea and chocolate sundaes on the same day!”

Ben sat at the table and watched her prepare the treat. His fatigue melted like the chocolate. At her prompting, he told her a little about his excursions during the past three weeks, describing the people he had flown and sights he had seen, but omitting details of most of the encounters and transactions. Gradually, her bleak mood lightened.

While they were eating the ice cream and melted chocolate, he entertained her with stories of his exploits during his years in Kenya. “...then, there was this time when I accompanied Simon and three of his brothers on a hunt for a rock python. The snake had eaten some of the family’s chickens and was suspected of polishing off a baby goat. So these four Masai showed me how to track the thing, and in no time we discovered the snake hole in the foothills near their homesite.”

He took another bite of ice cream. “Our little hunting party waited outside the hole for three
days
before one of Simon’s brothers spotted the snake. He yelled, and we all went running toward him. I was in the lead with my rifle, but then I saw the snake slithering toward us. It was—and I’m not making this up—about twenty feet long, and it weighed more than I do. Plus, it was
fast!
My first thought was, ‘Well,
hell,
that is the biggest thing I’ve ever
seen!
’”