Crunch

by Rick Bundschuh

  Maggie translated in rapid Spanish, and Miguel replied. “He says that he is grateful for the work,” Maggie said, then added, “Miguel is part of our Bible study group. He has four children, so we try to give him work whenever we can.”

  “Well, it looks like God is working this trip out for everyone,” Sarah said.

  As the taxi turned onto the traffic-congested paved highway, Bethany studied the landscape around her. The contrast to her island home was extreme. While thick green foliage was the norm in Hawaii, in this busy city there was hardly a blade of grass—only buildings crowding each other, vying for visitors’ attention. At home, massive trees gave shade and beauty everywhere you went, but here the few trees Bethany spotted were stunted and gray.

  The brightly colored buildings, closely packed homes, and loud cars mixed with the smell of burning trash and exhaust fumes to assault her senses.

  From an island with a little more than fifty thousand residents to a sprawling city of over a million, the change for Bethany and her friends was enormous.

  And then there was the poverty.

  As they drove out of the touristy part of the city, Bethany could see shacks built into the hillside made of scrap lumber and aluminum siding with dirt-filled tires serving as steps. At first she thought they were just storage sheds, but as she looked closer it became obvious that these were incredibly small, ramshackle homes clinging desperately to the dusty hillside. All signs of plant life seemed ripped out of the ground.

  Bethany’s attention was suddenly drawn away by the sound of Maggie’s voice.

  “I’d like to tell you all a little about the orphanage we are visiting,” she began. “First of all, this is an all-boy orphanage. Many times you will find that orphanages in Mexico are like this—all-boy or all-girl. Also, many of the kids aren’t true orphans. Most have at least one parent alive, so it is more accurate to say that we are going to a home for unwanted, abused, or poverty-stricken kids. They’re young but have had tough lives already. Some have been buying and selling drugs for their parents. Many have seen violence, sexual abuse, and other things children should never be exposed to.

  “At the orphanage, we teach the children about God by caring for them and giving them food, shelter, clothing, safety, and schooling.

  “Since there are so many kids for so few adults, you will find them starved for human attention. So, don’t let it bother you if the younger ones want to be carried or touched.”

  Bethany and the rest of the team looked at each other silently, trying to imagine what it would feel like to go through such horrors—at such a young age.

  “Can they be adopted?” Bethany asked when she found her voice again.

  “Well, technically the true orphans can. But it is pretty hard to do in Mexico,” Maggie replied. “People ask that all the time though, and some really find their hearts going out to a particular kid and want to take him or her home. But it can’t be done easily or with most kids.”

  “So, what happens to them?” Kai asked.

  “Ah, that’s another tragic part of their story,” Maggie said sadly. “The parents usually come back to claim their child when the kid is old enough to work in the streets. We often run into the kids on the street…it’s not a pretty sight.”

  “There ought to be a law against that,” Monica said from the other side of Bethany.

  “Well, you will find that things are done a lot differently here than they are in the United States,” Maggie said with a sigh.

  No kidding, Bethany thought. Even though the team had been through an orientation meeting before going on the trip, nothing had prepared them for this—for the cruel realities of children living in the grip of poverty.

  The orphanage was nestled in a residential neighborhood. The two-story, bright pink building was surrounded by a large wall, the top of which was imbedded with glass and barbed wire.

  Looks more like a prison than an orphanage, Bethany thought with a bit of dismay as the taxi parked in front of the door. She also noticed Kai’s tight grip on his ukulele as he studied the hand-printed letters over the entrance that read, “Emmanuel Orphanage.” A small frown was forming on his face.

  “The kids are expecting us,” Maggie said with an encouraging smile as she opened the door of the taxi. “There is no school today, and they rarely get something as exotic as a hula show, so they are really excited.”

  As if on cue, dozens of small black-haired children rushed out to meet the group as they emerged from the taxi. They tugged on Bethany’s shirt, laughing as they grabbed the teens’ hands and pulled them toward the gate of the orphanage. Bethany felt her heart melt as the few that surrounded her studied her missing arm with concern, whispering to each other in Spanish before turning back to her with wide, compassionate eyes.

  They have it so much harder than I do. How could they feel sorry for me? she thought with amazement.

  Maggie bent down and quietly explained something to the kids in their own language.

  “Tiburon?” One of the little ones asked in disbelief.

  “Sí, sí, tiburon,” Maggie replied patiently.

  Mouths gaping wide, the children passed the word on to the latecomers, each of whom stared at Bethany in awe.

  “I explained to them that you are a surfer who lost your arm to a shark,” Maggie said almost apologetically. “They’re just curious, and they really don’t mean any harm by it.”

  “Sure, that’s okay,” Bethany said, smiling at the little group before she turned back to Maggie. “It always makes kids curious when they see someone missing an arm.”

  “They all want to hear what happened, but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I don’t mind at all. I like it when my story encourages others to learn more about God,” she said smiling shyly.

  Maggie gave her a grateful smile. She turned back to the children—now gathered in a thick group around the team—and explained that they would hear the story of the shark and see something special right from Hawaii.

  The children squealed with delight and hurried to lead the team through the gates of the orphanage.

  Bethany looked around the large paved play area surrounded by a block wall. A bent basketball hoop minus the net hung from the wall.

  A busy kitchen area opened up to a dining room with murals on the walls. The murals showed children doing various activities with words written in Spanish underneath—words that Bethany—with her one semester of instruction in the language—could not make out.

  Off the dining room was a small living room containing several well-used sofas and a stained rug over a tiled floor.

  The place was tidy and clean, yet it had the feel of a well-used building. Nicks, scratches, and chipped paint were everywhere.

  Maggie introduced the team to the directors of the orphanage, Eva and Manuel Ruiz. Then the directors showed them where to set up for their sharing time.

  A large TV was brought in for Bethany. She hooked her video iPod into the back and gave it a test run.

  Bethany couldn’t help feeling her spirits lift as the room soon filled with excited, smiling children.

  Maggie located a globe and used it to show the children where the visitors had come from.

  Hands shot in the air, and Maggie translated back the questions to the group.

  “How did you get here?”

  “We flew.” Bethany laughed at their confused expressions. “On an airplane!”

  The boys giggled.

  “How long did it take?”

  “A little over five hours,” Holly answered.

  “What is it like where you live?”

  Several teens on the team attempted to explain about a land of green where palm trees dot the beach and where turtles and whales roam the shoreline.

  Then Kai was up. He explained that the ukulele was a traditional Hawaiian instrument. Malia jumped in next to describe the hula and to show how the movement of hands, feet, and body were like beautiful
sign language.

  Kai promptly began plinking away at a song while Monica, Holly, Jenna, and the rest of the girls danced a hula for the wide-eyed little boys.

  A bit self-conscious at first, the girls quickly shook it off and performed as smoothly and beautifully as they were used to at home. When they were done, the children clapped wildly.

  Maggie then introduced Bethany and explained that she was a competitive surfer who had overcome a life-threatening event.

  Bethany felt uneasy speaking through an interpreter, so she tried to keep her sentences short and to the point.

  “What would you like to hear most about surfing?”

  “Did it hurt when you were bit by the shark?” a little boy asked in Spanish, and Maggie smiled apologetically.

  “It’s okay,” Bethany said as she nodded. She’d learned enough about human nature to know that, for these little boys, hearing about surfing would only be interesting once their curiosity about the shark attack was satisfied.

  “So…, “ she said, looking down at the eager faces. “Let me tell you about the day I lost my arm.”

  The children quieted down quickly as Maggie interpreted.

  “I started surfing when I was about your age,” Bethany continued. “I loved it from the moment I started.” She smiled. “My family taught me that there were dangerous things in the water, and that it was possible to get hurt—or even killed. In fact, we knew people who had been attacked by sharks. But like most people, I never thought that it would happen to me.”

  The children were as silent as stones, their eyes drifting to the empty, knotted sleeve of her shirt as she talked.

  “Up to that time, the worst thing that had happened to me while surfing was getting stung by a box jellyfish.” Bethany glanced up and noticed Kai was listening as intently as the orphans.

  “What is that?” a little boy asked. “What does that feel like?”

  Bethany did her best to explain the painful sting from the bizarre creature made up of 99 percent water. “But they don’t attack you on purpose,” she assured them. “They just float along, and you bump into them because they are mostly underwater and hard to see.” Bethany turned to Maggie. “Don’t they have jellyfish at the beach here?”

  “I am sure they do, but most of these children have never been to the ocean—even though it’s only twenty minutes away.”

  “I wish there was some way to fix that,” Bethany said softly. She took a deep breath and then proceeded to tell them of the morning when she and her friends had been surfing and how quickly and without any warning she had been attacked. “Did it hurt?” “Why didn’t it eat all of you?” and other similar questions exploded out of the young audience.

  “No, strangely enough, it didn’t hurt until later,” Bethany said. “I felt a tug and a pinch and that was it.”

  “Show them the picture,” Kai prompted.

  Bethany grinned at him and pulled a book out of her backpack that showed her standing next to a surfboard with a huge U-shaped bite out of it.

  The children gasped before rushing at her with more questions: “Why didn’t you bleed to death?” “Who saved you?” “Did they kill the shark?”

  Bethany glanced at Maggie who seemed pleased but exhausted from the rapid-fire translations, and moved on to explain how she had been pulled out of trouble by holding on to her friend’s dad as he paddled both of them to shore.

  She told of her journey to the hospital and how God had helped her heal and given her the strength and ability to continue surfing.

  “Aren’t you scared? How can you go back in the water again?”

  “Most of the time I’m not scared,” Bethany answered honestly. “And I trust God. That’s how I can go back in the water.”

  “How can you trust God? Have you ever met him? Have you seen his face?”

  Bethany and Maggie both turned to the source of the voice: a little boy standing in the doorway of the room. His hands were clenched at his sides. He was skinny with scratches on his legs and shoes that were so filthy Bethany felt her heart would break.

  “I haven’t seen his face, but I have felt his love and protection,” she answered gently. Then, remembering her dad’s words, she added, “He’s the best father any of us could ever imagine.”

  The little boy’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he thought for a moment and frowned. “I have to see his face,” he said and then abruptly ran out of the orphanage.

  Bethany turned back to Maggie. “Do you know him? Should we go after him or something?”

  “His name is Eduardo. He visits us when he is able.” Maggie shook her head. “Most likely he is heading back home…though I should tell Eddie to check on him. I have never heard him talk that way before.”

  Bethany looked out the door, pondering on what had just transpired, until she caught sight of another little boy grinning up at her.

  “Did they catch the shark?”

  She smiled down at him and opened to another page in her book that showed a huge shark being held up by a backhoe.

  “They caught it. It was fourteen feet long,” said Bethany. Maggie, taking a second to do math in her head, changed the measurement into meters for the group.

  “How big is that?”

  Bethany paced out approximately fourteen feet and said, “From here to there!”

  Ooohs and ahhhs filled the room. Holly and the girls gave her a thumbs up.

  “You’re a hit,” Kai said with a teasing grin.

  “Yeah, kind of like Jaws,” Dano added, and they all laughed.

  “Speaking of movies,” Bethany said, giving Dano a look before turning back to the group, “Would any of you like to see what it’s like to surf in Hawaii?”

  “Sí! Sí!” The boys clapped excitedly.

  “Okay, here we go!” Bethany pushed a button on her iPod, and the screen lit up with surfing action.

  “What’s all this footage for?” Kai asked as the boys scooted forward quietly, their eyes glued to the TV.

  “It’s a collection of shots I gave to my sponsor so that they can use it for promotional stuff,” Bethany whispered.

  “There are some good shots in this,” Kai whispered back.

  “That’s because my brother edited out all the waves where I don’t get out of the barrel or land the trick.”

  “Still, the surfing is great! I didn’t know you were that good.”

  “And I didn’t know you could play such a mean ukulele,” Bethany laughed. “I ought to get you to record something for my next DVD project.”

  “That would be cool.”

  Bethany glanced back to the young faces enraptured by the sight of her image sailing across the powder blue water and wished with all of her heart she could have more than a day with them. She wanted to give them a chance to see the world outside the gates of the orphanage.

  They live so close to the ocean, but most of them will never go, she thought sadly.

  Suddenly the kids began to squeal and laugh, and her smile returned.

  “Ah! The wipeout section,” she grinned, glancing to Kai and Dano. “Now you will see my true talent!”

  They watched and winced at the footage of her getting clobbered by the lip of a double-overhead wave or being swallowed whole by a racing tube or being air-dropped into oblivion by a late takeoff.

  “That must have hurt,” Dano said with a note of awe.

  “Not too much. But I sure got held under for a long time on a couple of those. Watch, you’ll see my board get snapped in two on the next shot.”

  Ooohs and ahhhs roared out of the kids at each wipeout.

  The grand finale was footage that her brother Noah had shot by jumping in the water with the camera just as Bethany had sailed by him. A thin curtain of water covered her. He slowed it way down in editing, ending the film with a ballet of beauty and grace.

  Clapping erupted all around the room as the end credits rolled.

  “Take me surfing! Take me surfing!” The darkhaired brood ch
anted in Spanish (apparently over their apprehension about sharks).

  “I think they had better learn to swim first,” Maggie laughed.

  Bethany smiled, but underneath her smile was a jumble of emotions. She felt like her eyes had been opened for the first time. These kids had so little, and yet they didn’t ask for the moon and the stars. They asked to go to the ocean.

  Or to see God’s face, Bethany thought, still unable to shake the memory of the ragged little boy who had stood in the doorway. He had been in the back of her mind through the entire video show, and she prayed with all of her heart that somehow, someway, she would have the chance to see that little boy again.

  four

  Bouncing down the road from the orphanage in Miguel’s taxi, Bethany was uncharacteristically quiet as she thought about everything that had transpired.

  “I wish they all could find a real family,” Holly said suddenly, voicing what most of them were thinking. “I wish I could take a bunch of them home with me.”

  “I would hate to live like that,” Malia admitted, and Jenna nodded.

  “It’s just not fair,” Monica added, glancing around. “They’re little kids!”

  “It is tragic,” Maggie allowed. “But it is much, much better than the world they came from.”

  “I can’t even comprehend where they are now,” Bethany said.

  “Most of us who have been raised in a safe, secure environment can’t,” Sarah said gently. Bethany could tell by the look on her face that she had been affected as much as the team—if not more.

  As Miguel’s taxi came to the crest of the hill, Maggie spoke to him in Spanish, and he pulled off the road and drove half a block down a rutted dirt road. Ahead was a large steel fence.

  “Let’s get out here for a minute. I want to show you something,” Maggie said, opening the door to a trash-covered dirt road studded with tumbleweeds.

  “See that on the other side of the fence?”

  The teens peered through the fence. Past several miles of empty rolling hills they could see a busy freeway, homes, and businesses. In the far distance, skyscrapers thrust upwards like massive stalagmites.

  “On the other side of this fence is the United States, and the city you see in the distance is San Diego,” Maggie pointed out. “But on this side of the fence, life is much different.”