Finally and Forever

by Robin Jones Gunn

  Her ears were filled once again with the same sort of intercultural buffet of words as everyone on the bus let out a holler in his or her native language. The lovely cacophony brought smiles to everyone’s face, as Katie once again held out the microphone to catch their cheers.

  All right! Not bad. My work here is done.

  Katie took her seat as the lively atmosphere pervaded the bus. She felt pretty good about the way she had helped to bolster the energy level.

  Now, what if the UN took that approach to every summit meeting? If people from around the world took the time to laugh together, I can’t help but think that world peace would break out.

  She took the same seat alone in the front behind the driver as Eli had and pulled out the notes in her folder, the same way she remembered Eli had. The schedule indicated that they should arrive at the Lake Naivasha resort at 11:30. They would have their lunch first and then walk through the wildlife preserve area to the lake. Katie was assigned to herd everyone back to the tour bus by 2:30. Once everyone was on board, they would head for Brockhurst and be back in plenty of time for the evening meal.

  Seemed easy enough.

  As the bus rumbled down the road that led to Nairobi, Katie realized she recognized some of the turnouts along the way. That realization gave her a surprising sort of happiness. It reminded her of the feeling she had when she moved into the dorms at Rancho, found her way into town to the Dove’s Nest Café, and then managed to drive back to campus without getting lost or making a wrong turn. That meant she was home — and that she knew how to find her way back home.

  “Katie?” The African woman in the row across from Katie who had corrected her on the pronunciation of Naivasha leaned over. “You’re Eli’s Katie, aren’t you?”

  “Eli’s Katie?”

  The woman extended her hand, as if she had forgotten her manners and should have introduced herself first. “I’m Ngokabi. I’ve known the Lorenzos for a long time. I heard about you last year.” She touched her hand to her straight black hair and pointed to Katie. “I knew it had to be you because of the red hair. Ekundu.”

  “Is that what the driver called me, Ekundu?”

  Ngokabi nodded. She was a lovely young woman with high cheekbones and a narrow chin. She reminded Katie of some of the athletes from Rancho who looked as if their arms and legs were built for running.

  “Ekundu means ‘red,’ “ Ngokabi said. “He meant it as a nickname. Do you mind it?”

  “No, I like it. Ekundu.” Katie pointed at Ngokabi and said, “What does your name mean?”

  “It’s traditional from my family. It means ‘Daughter of the Masai.’ It’s an honor for me to have this name, because it is the same name as my father’s firstborn sister.”

  Katie wasn’t sure why that would be such an honor.

  “You see, with the tribes in Kenya, we have a progression for names. I am the third daughter, so the third daughter is named after the father’s firstborn sister. If I had been a boy, I would be named for my father’s firstborn brother.”

  “So your name was decided before you were even born.”

  The woman next to Ngokabi said, “Is that not how it is with all of us who have been called by God? He knew our name and every hair on our head before we took our first breath.”

  Katie thought about that point as Ngokabi went on to explain that forty-two tribes lived in Kenya, and the woman next to her was from the Kikuyu tribe. Her facial features, a broad forehead and a rounder face, were different from Ngokabi’s.

  “My namesake was a much-loved woman,” Ngokabi said. “She taught a women’s Bible study for twelve years, and now the publishing house I work with in Nairobi is producing her material. It’s exciting to see her hard work live on even after she is gone.”

  Their conversation continued the rest of the ride to Lake Naivasha. Even though Katie hadn’t intended to return to the opening question of “Are you Eli’s Katie?” the subject somehow did a swooping circle, and there it was in front of them once again for Katie to confirm or deny.

  She tried to choose her words carefully. “I suppose you could say that. Yes, I’m Eli’s Katie. We’re going together. But he’s in a village now and has been for almost a week and a half. We have a lot to figure out. It seems we have very different career paths.” Katie realized her head was bobbing, as if she were trying to convince herself of what she had just said. All of it. Did they have different career paths? Really? That sounded so western when she heard herself say it.

  And was she really “Eli’s Katie”? Is that how he had referred to her, or was Ngokabi taking something she had heard from Eli and giving it her own spin? Katie wondered if it was okay to say that they were “going together.” Was that their own code for their relationship, or was that how Eli had referred to her?

  All the uncertainties weighed on her in a disagreeable way. Katie was glad that Ngokabi didn’t probe the topic or offer insights. She didn’t even seem particularly interested in how Katie was sorting out her relationship with Eli. It seemed as if Ngokabi had just stated a determined fact, the way her name had been chosen for her before she was born.

  When the bus driver pulled into the tree-filled area marked with a large sign for Lake Naivasha, Katie felt ready to stretch her legs, grab some lunch, and see those hippos.

  “All right, rafikis, we are here. The hippos of Lake Naivasha await us. Let me give you a rundown of the plan for our lovely afternoon, just in case you didn’t catch these details earlier. When you disembark, be sure to tell our driver what a great job he did.”

  Everyone clapped. Ngokabi said something to the driver as he was turning off the motor, and he gave a wave in the large rearview mirror.

  “Okay.” Katie motioned for everyone to stop clapping and stay in their seats one more moment. “So here’s the plan. We’re having lunch first. You can meander your way into the restaurant, and you’ll find a separate room that has been prepared for our group. My notes say it’s a cookout, and you can go through the buffet line as many times as you like.”

  “Mabuhay!”

  “I thought you’d like that, Ramon.”

  A wave of chuckles and chatter rose.

  “Now, wait, let me make sure everyone knows that we must be back to the bus by two thirty at the very latest. We’ll eat, walk down to the river, try not to be eaten by the hippos, and then find our way back here by two thirty. Got that?”

  A variety of responses resounded as the group rose and made its way past Katie and out the door. She felt like a flight attendant, nodding, smiling, and giving a few playful “Buh-bys” to some in the group.

  She gave a little salute to the bus driver and brought up the rear as the meandering group stopped for photos in front of the Lake Naivasha sign and made their way toward the restaurant that was well marked in English. This resort was different from the one she had stopped at with Eli’s parents in Aberdare. That one had been traditionally British in its architecture and furnishings. This one was African in style, and Katie loved the carved wood and wild animal print fabric on the chairs.

  It took her a little while to remember that she had completed her job when she gave everyone the information and escorted them off the bus. She didn’t need to shepherd them around or check in on them. In a way, this felt like summer camp, and she was the camp counselor.

  That thought made Katie smile. It was almost as if one of her small, forgotten dreams had come true. In high school she had dearly wanted to be a camp counselor, but her parents had put their foot down, saying she wasn’t allowed to keep the commitment she had made to her youth pastor. Christy ended up going in her place, and Katie was befuddled to this day as to why her parents, who showed such little care, concern, or involvement in many areas of her life, had been against her going to camp.

  It was one of those inexplicable things about her family that she knew she would never grasp. Another mysterious thing she didn’t understand was the way her parents had responded when she called them a few days
after she had arrived in Kenya and explained how she planned to stay indefinitely.

  Her mother had said, “I can see it.”

  That was all. Just, “I can see it.” Katie hadn’t known if she should take that as a jab, as if her mother were saying that their impulsive, odd little child had run off to Africa on the heels of college graduation — no surprise there. It was so opposite of anything anyone in Katie’s extended family would have done that it must have seemed like this was something Katie would do.

  Her father said he wanted her to send him an elephant tusk. Then he laughed as if he had made a great joke.

  Katie knew she should never hope to receive her parents’ approval and blessing on something she did. But to her surprise, after she had given her mother her mailing address during the phone call, Katie received a graduation card from her in the mail along with a twenty-dollar bill. The handwritten note was short. “I meant to give this card to you at your graduation, but your father forgot to remind me, and I left it in the car. I don’t know if the Africans can cash American money, but maybe you can use it there somehow. Your father and I are proud of you. Please be safe.”

  The card had arrived early in Katie’s stay, when she and Eli were spending lots of time together and everything felt buoyant and new. The card and her mother’s handwritten message hadn’t meant much to her then.

  As she sat in the exotic restaurant at Lake Naivasha at a table with writers from the Czech Republic and Bulgaria who were busy talking about publishing, Katie ate her papaya and pineapple starter salad and thought of how, in essence, she had received the blessing she had longed for. She never told Eli about the card; she wished she could tell him now. Her parents, in the best way they knew how, had told her, “We’re proud of you. Be safe.” That was huge. How did she miss the significance of that? Katie felt warmed inside in an unexpected way. Getting away from Brockhurst and the Lorenzos for the day was giving her a chance to back up and see other facets of her life.

  Joining the others from her table, Katie went outside the main eating area to where the barbecues were smoking like crazy and three chefs in spotless white jackets and tall chef hats stood ready to carve the meat that was roasting on the spit. Katie picked up a plate and followed Sasa, a publisher from Prague, as they scooped up ugali, rice, and mixed vegetables from large serving trays. When they got to the meat, Sasa asked what it was.

  The chef replied, but neither Sasa nor Katie was sure of what he said. They both went ahead and motioned for the chef to carve some meat for them and loaded up their plates.

  “It smells wonderful,” Katie said. “Asante.”

  Returning to the table, she dug in, enjoying every bite of the firm, well-seasoned meat.

  “How do you like it?” Svetlana, the publisher from Bulgaria, asked.

  “Delicious.”

  “I agree. It is the best goat I’ve ever had,” Svetlana said.

  Katie felt her last bite stopping halfway down. She swallowed hard and took a long drink from her soda can. “Goat. Hmmm. So that’s what it was.”

  Sasa gave her a “Well, how about that?” sort of look, and the two of them quietly kept on chewing and finished their meal.

  Katie knew she had come a long way from scrunching up her nose at ostrich meatballs and turning down the chance to try a flying peanut. This had been a delicious meal, and she had enjoyed every bite. Well, maybe not that last one …

  Some of the group had already made their way down the trail to the lake. Katie lingered at the table, taking dainty, delightful bites of a piece of coconut cake that perfectly topped off the gourmet luncheon. By the time she had finished, she was the last one at the table. And that’s when she missed Eli more than she could hardly stand.

  Deciding to once again assume the role of Princess Hakuna Matata, Katie lifted her cloth napkin to her mouth and dabbed the edges of her very lonely lips. Then, folding her napkin like a proper princess would do, Katie gracefully backed her chair away from the table and headed out the door for the main attraction.

  She was strolling by herself on the trail that led quite a way down to the lake when Ngokabi came up behind her. “Are we the last to leave the restaurant?”

  “I think so.” Katie was glad for the companionship. “This is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  To their left, in the grove of slender acacia trees that surrounded both sides of the trail, Katie heard a rustling. She looked over her shoulder and saw a zebra. Then another and another.

  “Ngokabi, look! Zebras!”

  “Yes?”

  It seemed to Katie that Ngokabi’s response was about the same as if they had been walking down the sidewalk at Todd and Christy’s apartment and Katie had said, “Look, a stray cat.”

  Katie stayed where she was, awestruck by the zebras, as she counted fourteen of them. She pulled out her phone, set it on zoom, and took several pictures before moving on down the trail with patient Ngokabi, who had waited for her.

  Katie grinned. “My first zebra. What can I say?”

  Ngokabi’s expression remained respectfully attentive. She asked Katie if she had been to the Masai Mara on a safari.

  “No. Eli told me a little about it. I’d love to see a lion or cheetah. Or an elephant. That would be amazing. We went to the giraffe reserve, and I fed Daisy out of my hand.” Katie was still feeling proud of that.

  “Did you? I’ve been to see Daisy. She can be fickle.”

  “She liked me.”

  Without changing her expression much, Ngokabi said kindly, “I can see how she would. You have the Lord’s presence in your life. I understand why Eli spoke of you the way he did.”

  Katie wasn’t sure she wanted to press this topic of conversation. She already was missing Eli terribly. He would have understood her amazement over the zebras. Unable to quench her curiosity, she asked, “What exactly did he tell you about me?”

  “All good things, of course. He was waiting patiently, very patiently, for you to turn your head his way.”

  For the first time, it hit Katie how long Eli had waited for her to pay attention to him. For some reason Katie couldn’t explain, Eli had set his affections on her the day they had met. He prayed for her and certainly thought of her for a year before Katie turned her head his way and gave him the same attention and consideration he had already focused on her.

  Here Katie felt like she was dying because it had been almost two weeks since she had seen Eli and since they had last talked. She thought she was the one who was mastering the art of patiently waiting, yet Eli had waited a year.

  “He’s amazing,” Katie said.

  “He feels the same way about you. I’m sure you know that.”

  Katie nodded, even though at times she had let herself wonder if her attraction for him was a one-sided exercise. It wasn’t. She knew it. Deep in her heart she knew it. If only they didn’t have this huge obstacle of their opposing goals. Why was it that way for them? Their friends who were couples didn’t have that same challenge.

  Ngokabi and Katie came to the end of the path where the rest of the group had gathered, standing in small clumps, pointing to the water, and shielding their eyes from the sun with their hands.

  Katie was startled to see the vastness of the lake and what a soft, powdery blue shade it was. High above the lake the clouds floated like forgotten wishes blown from tiny pink candles on a child’s birthday cake. The ground around them was flat, covered with green marsh grasses. In the distance, a wide and all-encompassing plateau rose at the far end of the lake. That’s when Katie realized they were in a deep valley. The Rift Valley. This was where the earth was being slowly pulled apart, revealing fertile soil and cavernous lakes. Eli had stood by her side when they peered down into this immense green valley, and now she was in the valley looking up.

  “There’s one!” A man in the group who was from India had brought a pair of binoculars. He was the first to spot the bubbles and spouting spray of the emerging hippo.

  At first the huge creature ro
se only high enough to reveal the top of its head; its small, flittering, round ears; and its severe-looking eyes. It was evident that the part hidden below the water was terrifyingly huge. Even though they were far away from the where the hippopotami were reported to come up on shore, it still seemed like they were awfully close. Katie could hear the great beast’s snorting sounds and deep groans.

  Then, in a series of motions that were magnificent and yet seemed a little silly at the same time, the SUV-sized creature emerged from the muddy water and trotted up on the shore in a way that made him look as if he were prancing around on his thick-as-an-oak-tree legs that seemed way too short for his immense carriage.

  The group seemed to draw in their collective breaths when the enormous hippo turned in their direction and gave them a terrible gaze. Katie noticed for the first time that a uniformed game warden was with their group. He was equipped with a pistol and a walking stick.

  Fortunately, he didn’t need to employ either deterrent, because the hippopotamus trotted in a small circle twice and then plodded his way back to the lake.

  “He’s just making sure we know who’s in charge,” the game warden said. “We know. We don’t challenge his control over his domain.”

  They waited and watched another ten minutes or so and tried to count the number of hippos in the water by the raised heads and wiggling ears that looked more like small floating gray mounds. Katie checked her phone for the time and saw that they had about forty minutes before they had to be on the bus. She decided to head back before the rest of the group so that she could settle the bill and be in place to do her nose count as the group boarded.

  Katie also noticed that she had a new text message on her phone. It was from Eli. She clicked on it and read, I MISS YOU.

  Her heart melted a little, and then she remembered that was the message he had written to her when they were on the bus on the last tour. She recalled how he had been in the seat in front of her, and the two of them had kept a texting conversation going. What she just read had to be the old message. But it wasn’t. She scrolled up and back and saw that this new I MISS YOU had been sent twelve minutes ago. That meant Eli was in range of cell service in whatever village he was in.