The Desire (4 page)

A
llan had finally fallen asleep. The images of Korah kept haunting him whenever he closed his eyes. He kept seeing that last moment, when Ayana's tiny hand waved good-bye as he walked away. He'd accidentally overslept. When he awoke, he quickly pulled himself together and hurried to the breakfast café to meet the rest of the team. The men had maneuvered the tables in a semicircle around Ray, who was talking as they ate.

“Allan,” Ray said, “I was just about to send someone after you.”

“Sorry, guys. Had a hard time getting to sleep last night.”

“Quite a few of us did,” Ed said. “That was rough.” He was referring to how they'd spent yesterday afternoon. After Ray and Allan had made it back to Addis Ababa to meet with the team for lunch, they had all agreed to change plans and spend the rest of the day in Korah.

Allan had almost declined. He could've easily cited an upset stomach or even a headache, because both were true. But he went. This time, he didn't see Ayana or the little boy they had met that morning. But he'd continued to look for her throughout the afternoon.

“Go grab some breakfast and join us,” Ray said. “I'll hold off what I was going to say till you get back.”

Allan walked past the small buffet and threw some breakfast things on his plate, unsure if he'd eat them. He took the empty seat the guys had left for him next to Ray.

“We didn't get too far,” Ray said. “Everybody just talked about how much the dump affected them.”

“It's affecting me now,” Allan said. “I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt just looking at this plate of eggs. This would be a king's feast to everyone out there. And seeing those kids . . .”

“Believe me, Allan. We all feel the same way.” Ray sipped his coffee. “I'm thinking the trip to Korah yesterday was the reason we came here.”

“But what can we do?” Ed said. “There are thousands of people there, and it's been like that for so many years.”

“I asked Henok how many people lived there,” one of the other men said. “I don't know if this is accurate, but he said a hundred thousand.”

“Whatever the exact number, it's a massive amount,” Allan said. “The worst part is how many of them are kids.” The group paused. Allan forced down a few bites.

“I know the numbers are huge,” Ray said. “It's hard not to be overwhelmed. Standing at the top of that hill of garbage, looking down on it all. How can you not be? But I kept thinking, I've got to do something. I can't ‘unsee' everything I've seen. There's got to be something we can do for those kids. Even if we could only help a few of them, it would be something.”

Ray stopped a moment. Allan figured it was to let what he'd said sink in. It worked, at least for him. The problems at Korah were too massive if you looked at the whole thing all
at once. So don't look at the whole thing; look at
one
thing. What was the one thing he could do?

“So here's my idea,” Ray said. “Let's help get Henok's orphanage going. It will be a small operation at first. I'm sure Henok will help us get it set up locally and even be willing to run it.”

“But we're flying back tomorrow,” Ed said.

“I know. So we have to make today count. Yesterday afternoon, we forgot the video camera. I know you guys got some videos from your cell phones, but I'd like to go back out there and spend the rest of the day intentionally capturing footage we could use back home. Something we can polish up enough to show people at our churches, to help them grasp what's going on here. I know I can get my church behind this. I'm sure most of you guys are going home to a church that'll be expecting a trip update. What if we could show them a video about Korah, especially about the orphans? Talk up the idea. See if we can get some fund-raising started. Things here are way less expensive than in the States. And Henok's a pretty sharp guy. We can work with him by emails and Skype, help things move along with government officials.”

Sounded like a great idea to Allan. Everyone was nodding their heads.

Ray put his hand on Allan's shoulder. “I was thinking of Allan here, maybe he can be our point man once we're back home.”

“But I've got a full-time job,” Allan said. “I can't really travel much. I'm using vacation time for this trip, and I only get so much of that.”

“I'm not thinking you'll need to travel,” Ray said. “Once we get things to a certain point, we'll probably need to come back here. But I'm not thinking of you driving or flying around
to a bunch of churches back home. More of a behind-the-scenes kind of thing. Some tasks on the phone, some emails. Helping to coordinate what the other guys are doing in their churches.”

Allan felt relieved. “I suppose I could do that.”

“Great. We can talk about this some more while we're out there today. Let's get our stuff together. I'll go find Henok and brief him. He already said he could go out with us again today. Then let's meet out by the curb in thirty minutes.”

“Can we make that forty-five?” Allan asked. “I told my wife I'd call her at nine. Haven't talked with her for a few days.”

“I'd like to call home too,” Ed said.

“Sure,” Ray said. “Let's meet in forty-five minutes then.”

M
ichele was nodding off.

Normally, when she had to work the next morning, she'd be asleep by 10:30. But Allan had said he'd contact her tonight on Skype, if at all possible. He was almost thirty minutes late. She was beginning to doubt it would happen. Communication was the worst part of these trips. No, the worst part was him being gone every night and her being left alone.

Was there a best part?

She forced herself to think about all the good he was doing. He was helping people. Lots of people. Orphans and widows and sick people and hurting people and people who had almost nothing. She was sitting in an upscale townhome in River Oaks, in a nicely decorated and spacious master bedroom suite. From her soft, upholstered chair, she could see into the bathroom. There was a garden tub with whirlpool jets. She barely used it anymore; it was a nightmare to keep clean. But there it was, and she could use it whenever she wanted.

Allan had talked to her once about the bathroom situation of most of the people in Ethiopia. Halfway through, she had to make him stop. The images in her mind were so revolting.

She stared at the computer screen, waiting for the little icon to activate, indicating Allan was on the line.
Please
, Allan . . . please call.
She heard a beep and jumped. But it wasn't him. It was her cell phone on the nightstand. Apparently informing her the battery was fully charged. She stood up and walked to the bathroom to wash her face with cold water.

Five more minutes. She would give it five more minutes.

As she turned off the faucet, she heard that familiar chime from her laptop. She dried her face and hands and ran to the computer. There was Allan's beautiful face staring back at her. She clicked the button to accept the call, and the picture instantly enlarged. “Can you see me? Can you hear me?” she asked.

“I can. Man, are you a sight for sore eyes. I haven't seen anything that beautiful since . . . since I left you at the airport.”

It was so good to see him. But something in his eyes . . . she could tell he was struggling with something. “You look good. A little tired maybe. Your eyes look kind of puffy. Are you sleeping okay?”

“I was until last night. Had a real hard time for some reason. Well, I guess I know why.” He looked away, offscreen.

“What's wrong? What happened last night?”

He looked back at her. “Just some stuff we saw yesterday. Had a hard time getting the pictures out of my mind. I'll tell you about it when I get home.”

“Would it help to talk about it? I'm here if you want to talk about it now.”

“I don't think so. I'm going back out there again in just a few minutes. Maybe seeing it all again will help take the sting away. If we talk about it now, it might mess up your sleep. It's midnight there, right?”

“A little after,” she said. “I can see it's daylight there from
the window behind you. That's so strange. I still can't get used to the time difference. It's tomorrow for you already
.”

“I know. One more day and we start the long journey home. I can't wait to see you.”

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I love you too.”

There was a long pause, which rarely happened in their conversations. “What's wrong, babe? You seem . . . off somehow. Are you just worn out?”

“I'm sure that's part of it.” He looked away. When he looked back at her, he said, “No, that's not it. Not really. I'm sure it's this place.”

“You mean Addis Ababa?”

“No, the place we visited yesterday.”

She noticed something then. He was looking right at her, but it was as if he wasn't seeing her anymore. He was seeing something else, in his mind. “Tell me about it.”

“No, I'm sorry. It can wait. Tell me about you. How are you holding up, with me being gone again on one of my trips?”

She had to be careful or she'd slip into a faraway stare too. This wasn't the time to talk about her baby woes. Rather, her lack-of-a-baby woes. “Nothing much going on here. You missed a big family dinner today after church. Doug was even there.”

“Again? That's two weekends in a row, isn't it?”

“It is.”

“Wonder what he's up to?”

“I don't think he's up to anything,” she said. “Maybe he just misses us.”

“Maybe.”

She knew why Allan had his doubts. The family was seeing less and less of Doug over the past twelve months. He
had just finished up his freshman year and was beginning his sophomore year at Flagler College in St. Augustine. He was staying at a dorm on campus, but the college was only a ninety-minute drive from here. Before he'd left for college, he had vowed to drive home most weekends. That lasted maybe a month.

“Guess who else was at the dinner?”

“Who?”

“Audrey Windsor. Remember her?”

“Sure I do,” he said. “The lady who taught your dad how to dance.”

“That's her. She called Dad this week saying she had something big to discuss with him, so he invited her to Sunday dinner.”

“You know what it was?”

“I don't. Not yet, anyway. When the kids went down for a nap, I went out shopping with Jean for a little while. As we walked out the front door, I saw Audrey in Dad's home office, still talking. Dad was clicking away on his computer, working on some kind of spreadsheet.”

Allan laughed.

“What?”

“I guess you really are curious.”

“Well, we haven't seen her very much the last few months. She did say it was something big. And then they're in there talking about it for hours. She was just saying good-bye when Jean and I came home from the store.”

“Well, maybe your mom can tell you what it's all about tomorrow.”

“I'm definitely going to call her when I get home from school.”

Allan glanced at his watch.

“Do you have to go already?” she said.

“In a few minutes. But I'm also thinking about your bedtime. You're teaching school in the morning. I know how hard it is facing those kids when you haven't had enough sleep.”

That was definitely true. But she didn't want him to go. “So you and your team are heading out to that place again? Whatever it is?”

“Korah. It's a little village about fifteen minutes from here.”

“Well, at least it's not very far.”

“It's not. But it's nothing like Addis Ababa. Even the worst parts of town are way better than anything there.”

There was that look again, like he wasn't seeing her anymore. “What's it like?” He didn't answer for several moments. “Allan?”

“I'm sorry.”

“It must be awful.”

A long pause. “It is. I've never seen anything like it.”

From the pictures and videos Michele had seen of other places, that was really saying something. “Not on any of your trips?”

“Nothing even close.”

She wanted to help him, to be there for him. But maybe he was right. Maybe she shouldn't hear all about this place right before bed if it was that bad. “What's it called again?”

“Korah,” he said. “They call it Korah.”

M
arilyn Anderson sat on the sofa and watched as her husband, Jim, came hurrying out of their master bedroom doorway. He was getting ready to leave for an appointment, but he seemed to instinctively know she was too exhausted to get up and kiss him good-bye. She was grateful she had the day off from both of her weekday occupations: her part-time job at Odds-n-Ends and her volunteer work at the Women's Resource Center.

He walked toward her, bent down, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Her mind drifted back to yesterday's dinner after church.

Only half the crowd had left after coffee and dessert. By then, it was late afternoon. The rest hung around long enough to heat up the leftovers around six. Michele had stayed until well after dark. Marilyn felt bad for her daughter. She was clearly down and missed Allan something awful. Marilyn had spent a good deal of energy simply trying to lift Michele's spirits. After Michele left, the house still wasn't quiet, of course, since Tom and his family lived upstairs.

They had been living there for a year now, since they had been forced to unload their house in a short sale. She loved
having them here, especially loved getting to spend so much time with her grandkids. But she could never fully relax until they were in bed. Jean did her best to give them some sense of separation, making as much use of the upstairs as possible.

“Will you be gone all day?” she asked Jim.

“Actually, no. I was only going to take a half day. Maybe a little more than half. If you're able to, I'd like to take you out for a little bit around midafternoon. Maybe go for a walk down by the river or get a cup of coffee.”

“Really?”

He looked upstairs for a moment, making sure they were alone. “I have some pretty big news to share with you.”

Marilyn sat up straight. “Is it about what you and Audrey Windsor were talking about yesterday?”

“It is.” He looked upstairs again.

“Can you tell me—”

Her phone rang. Jim was closer, so he picked it up. “Hello? Excuse me? Oh yes. She's here. What's that? I see . . . just a moment, let me see if she can come to the phone.” He pressed the mute button. “Hon, it's Arlene from the Women's Resource Center. Do you want to take it?”

Instantly, Marilyn shook her head no, then felt a strong impression God wanted her to say yes. Or maybe it was just guilt. She waved for Jim to hand her the phone. “Hello, Arlene?”

“Marilyn, could I ask you a huge favor? I know you're off today and I wouldn't call you at home like this normally, but something pretty important has come up. Do you have a minute?”

Jim kissed her on the cheek, whispered, “See you around 2:30,” and waved good-bye as he opened the door to leave.

She waved back then gave Arlene her undivided attention.

“About an hour ago,” Arlene said, “I got a phone call about
a young girl we've been counseling for several months. Her name is Christina. She's going through a really tough time right now.”

“I think I know who she is,” Marilyn said, “but I've never met her.”

“I got Christina to agree to meet me down at the center,” Arlene said. “I'm wondering if you could possibly join me there. I'd really appreciate it. I don't want to lose this girl. She's in such a vulnerable place right now.”

Marilyn held her cell phone a few inches away from her face, closed her eyes, and released a sigh. Now she wished she hadn't taken the call. She was aching for rest. What Arlene was asking hardly seemed like a restful thing. “There isn't any other time we could meet her?” Marilyn asked. “It has to be today?”

“I'm afraid so,” Arlene said. “Christina's mentor, Megan . . . you know Megan.”

“I do.”

“Megan was supposed to meet with her today. In fact, this was supposed to be their last time together. Last week, Megan got a call from her sister saying their mother was very sick. She asked if Megan could come up there soon to help. She'll probably be gone for months. She hated leaving all her girls but felt she had no choice. Yesterday, Megan's mother took a sudden turn for the worse, and she had to leave this morning to fly up north. That's what has Christina so upset. At least that's part of it. She was hinting about pulling out of the program altogether until I told her I'd meet with her myself. I'd be the one doing most of the talking today. But if you could be there, and she got a chance to meet you, I think it would reassure her she's not going to fall through the cracks.”

“When would I need to be there?”

“We're meeting in my office in just over an hour.”

An hour, Marilyn thought. Everything inside her wanted to say no, but again, she felt this tug that God wanted her to do this. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Oh, thank you. I'm so glad you said yes. I'm going to call Christina right away and tell her. I'll see you in a little while.” Arlene sounded excited.

At least one of them was.

Christina pulled into the parking lot of the Women's Resource Center and stared at the front door through the windshield of her '98 Ford Taurus. The windows were down since the A/C didn't work. Barely anything in this car did. It had all these fancy buttons and gadgets, but most of them didn't do a thing. She guessed their purpose was to remind her of still more things she couldn't afford.

She really didn't want to come here today. Ms. Ryan had talked her into it. That's right, Arlene. She wanted Christina to call her Arlene, which she found hard to do. Arlene was a real lady, refined and—what was that other word? Dignified. Refined and dignified. Not the kind of person she felt right calling by her first name. She was sure Arlene had asked for that courtesy to better identify with her, make it seem as if their lives weren't so far apart. But the gap was huge, and using first names wasn't going to close it.

Arlene was nice enough, though, and Christina had decided to give this thing one more try. It really upset her losing Megan. They had been meeting together for over three months now, every week at least. Christina felt like she could really trust Megan, could ask her anything, and Megan would answer her straight up.

Megan had quickly become like the mother Christina never had. Well, Christina had a mom, biologically speaking, back home in New York. But Christina had seen enough moms on TV shows and movies to know how far offtrack her childhood had been.

“Mom” was living with boyfriend number four, and that count was just in the last three years. Number four, like all the rest, hit on Christina whenever her mother wasn't looking. She'd had enough of it. “Mom” hadn't even tried to contact her after she'd been gone a month, even though Christina kept sending her notes about where she lived now.

But Megan had fit the mother role nicely. Christina had actually begun to believe Megan truly loved her, in a motherly sort of way. Megan had said she did many times, and Christina was finally beginning to believe it.

And now Megan was gone.

Christina knew she had good reason. Megan's mom was dying, all of a sudden out of nowhere, Megan had said. She hated to leave Christina stranded like this, but she had to fly home and take care of her. Of course she did. Christina knew this.

It didn't help any.

She looked up, noticed a nice car pull into one of the open spaces by the front door. An attractive brunette got out, and it wasn't until she turned to face the parking lot that Christina realized she knew this woman. Well, she didn't really know her. But she recognized her as one of the regular volunteers. Christina had thought she could've been a fashion model when she was younger. The attractive lady walked to the front door just as Arlene came out to greet her.

No way, Christina thought. Was this her new mentor? Both women turned to walk inside, but Arlene stopped to look once
more at the parking lot before closing the door. Christina wanted to duck, but she wasn't fast enough. Arlene saw her sitting in the car. She smiled and waved.

Well, Christina had better get out and give this thing a try.

She had promised Megan this morning she would.