Emerald Street

by Felicia Rogers

  They left the booth, and Jack said, “That was an expensive trinket.”

  Rory shrugged. “I have it, and Hannah deserves it.”

  Jack didn’t comment further as they perused the rest of the stalls. At the end of the aisle, Rory suggested they find a place to have lunch.

  “I know of a great little diner in Pearl Valley. Maybe Trevor would like to meet us there.”

  “Sure,” said Jack.

  They headed toward the parked truck. Jack gulped, his heart skipping a beat. He moved people aside as fast as he could.

  Could it be?

  He reached the booth and spun in a complete circle. “The lady that was just here, where did she go?”

  The jeweler stared at him and shrugged.

  He studied the crowd and whispered, “Raylyn.”

  Chapter Eight

  Raylyn dropped the necklace and frowned. The deep blue of the gem reminded her of Jack’s eyes, and staring at it caused a ripple of pain in her heart.

  She glanced up and caught someone staring. The man had black hair and sparkly blue eyes. Tanned from hours in the sun, he was a handsome specimen.

  He blinked rapidly and started running toward her. Raylyn stepped back, turned on her heel, and ran. Behind her, she thought he called her name, but she didn’t stop. Her lungs ached, and a stitch pulled at her side until she found a place to hide. Huddled beside an old building, she struggled to catch her breath.

  Once able to stand, she leaned her head against the cool brick and studied her surroundings. She was in a dark narrow alley, far away from the festival activities.

  It wasn’t the safest location. There was only one entrance or exit, and hardly any light. Even in the middle of the day, little filtered in.

  Stringed music drifted softly around her. Cautiously, Raylyn slipped to the end of the long alley and edged around the corner. The street was eerily empty.

  She stepped onto the empty sidewalk and proceeded to search for Uncle Roland’s truck. After ten minutes, she realized she was hopelessly lost.

  She dialed Aunt Renee’s number. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer.

  Squeezing the cell phone in her hand, she followed the sounds of the festival. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found the food vendors.

  Up and down the street she searched. Her pulse increased when she realized she couldn’t find Uncle Roland or Aunt Renee. She felt like a small kid in a department store who had lost sight of her parents.

  She twirled in a circle and fell against a young police officer.

  “Whoa, miss! Are you all right? Did someone harm you?”

  She struggled to catch her breath as she stuttered out, “I-I’m fine. I-I just lost my ride.”

  The officer smiled. “No problem. Did you park in a lot?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. This means there are only two places you can be. Over on Opal Obsession Drive or next to the train station, aptly named Jade Junction. I can give you directions, or if you want to wait a minute, I can take you there myself.”

  Raylyn gnawed her lip and decided to wait for escort.

  “Just let me call this in, and we’ll head out.” The officer introduced himself as Jimmy. “I guess you ain’t from around here.”

  She shook her head, not wishing to go into details about living in the area for two years but staying as secluded as humanly possible.

  “Tourists used to come through here all the time when the Oyster Farm over in Pearl Valley was up and runnin’, but now we only have them during the festival. If you don’t work for the Topaz Mining Company, or you aren’t a jeweler, you can’t hardly find a job. I was lucky though. I just moved back to town about a week ago, and my dad was able to pull some strings and get me on at the police department.”

  Raylyn didn’t comment; rather, she used all her energy to search the streets for the man who had followed her. It couldn’t be him. No way it was him. Surely it wasn’t him. What would he be doing here? And why had she run away?

  She gnawed her lip. She knew why she’d run; she was ashamed and afraid of what might happen if she saw Jack again.

  Luckily the first lot they checked on Opal Obsession Drive contained the truck.

  “Will you be okay out here alone?” asked Jimmy.

  “Sure. Thanks.” Raylyn pretended to dig in her purse for her keys. When the officer left, she climbed into the bed of the truck and cringed as the heated metal seared her exposed skin.

  ****

  “I had her! I know it was her!”

  “Calm down, Jack, and let’s talk this out.”

  “I know who I saw, and it was her, b-but…” He stopped, unable to voice the words that admitted she might have run from him.

  For two years of his life, he’d longed for her. After all that time of hoping she would visit or contact him, he’d finally given up and hired an investigator. If she wouldn’t come to him on her own, then he would sniff her out.

  “I’m sure you thought you saw her, but maybe she just looked like Raylyn. Sometimes—”

  Jack threw his hands upward and interrupted, “Rory, I know all about tricks the mind plays, but I’m telling you it was her.”

  Rory patted his back. “Let’s return to the booth and speak to the owner again.”

  The jeweler was no help, and Jack allowed Rory to lead him to the parked vehicle.

  On the twenty minute drive to Pearl Valley, Jack was distracted. All he could see was Raylyn standing at the booth and studying the necklace. He knew she’d seen him. Then she’d run off. If not for the crowd, or his prosthesis, maybe he could have caught her.

  The SUV shuddered to a halt outside Carol’s Diner. Trevor stood at the door and waved them inside. Rory hugged his friend and shook his hand vigorously.

  “Where’s Janie?”

  “At home. The baby is napping, and she is too.”

  “I remember those days.”

  “I hear they’re coming again.”

  Rory laughed. “Somehow I expect Hannah’s naps will hinge more on me than on the children.”

  “Right you are,” said Trevor. He directed his gaze at Jack and held out his hand.

  Jack joked, “Nice hat. Are you from Texas?”

  “Not really. I was born in Texas, but I grew up more of a military brat. I’ve lived a little bit of everywhere.” Releasing Jack’s hand, Trevor lifted his lip and said, “Nice accent. Are you from Kentucky?”

  Jack smiled. “Actually I am. From a beautiful little town in the southern part of the state.”

  They talked about trivialities as they found an empty booth. Jack fisted his hands and studied them. The incident in Sapphire Shoals had rooted in his mind, and he couldn’t relax.

  Rory and Trevor attempted to draw him in on their conversation, but he gave short, clipped responses. They apparently took the hint and began talking amongst themselves.

  The meal came, and Jack consumed his without tasting a single bite. The diner’s surroundings faded from existence. Finished, Rory left money on the table, and they exited the establishment.

  “I hope we can get together again before you leave for home,” said Trevor.

  Jack climbed into the truck’s cab as the men made their plans. By the time Rory started the motor, Jack was a nervous wreck.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Trevor to look into any new people in the area. His wife is the mayor’s daughter, and he might be able to find out more than us.”

  Jack nodded and mumbled a hasty, “Thanks.”

  Rory’s cell blared a country western tune, and he answered. “Hullo?”

  He paused, and a string of nonsensical words floated through the vehicle. When the call ended, Rory pulled off the road and stared into space as if shell-shocked.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Rory ran his hand over his short hair. “Everything’s fine, I think. But I need to go home for a few days.”

  The thought of leaving the area and perhaps losing Raylyn’s trail
had him saying, “Do you care if I use the cabin a while longer?”

  “Stay as long as you like. I’m sure Trevor won’t mind.”

  ****

  Uncle Roland and Aunt Renee didn’t return to the truck until dusk. During Raylyn’s extensive wait, she had left the truck bed and sheltered under a group of shade trees. Still, her flesh felt tender and burnt from her stint in the open.

  “You should have called us,” said her aunt.

  “I did.”

  Aunt Renee looked chagrined as she dug out her phone and noticed the ringer on mute. She apologized profusely, but Raylyn waved the words away.

  “What’s done is done” was all she said, hoping her aunt would drop the matter, and they would just go home.

  Throughout her time knocking off bugs and fighting monstrous mosquitoes, Raylyn had tried to visualize the man from earlier. Could it actually have been Jack? Maybe her mind had been playing tricks on her. There was no reason for him to be in Sapphire Shoals. Why, the place was hardly even a dot on a map.

  “You’re quiet,” commented Uncle Roland.

  “I was just thinking.”

  They stopped in the driveway, and Raylyn bounded from the cab and raced inside. Aloe cream smeared over her burned skin, she tittered on the edge of a hard-backed chair and sorted through her mail.

  Most of the envelopes were nothing more than advertisements and junk. However, one letter stood out amongst the rest.

  Postmarked a week prior, it appeared to be official in nature. Raylyn sliced the envelope open and read the contents.

  Dear Miss Morrison,

  We are delighted to hear from you. Our mission group has worked in Chiapas, Mexico, since 1925. We've assisted in leadership training, translating, agricultural development, and healthcare. Our goal is not to make the citizens dependent on us, but rather to foster the ability to provide for one's self once we are called to leave.

  Chiapas is a home to the ancient Mayan culture, and the predominant religion is Catholicism with blended traditions of the indigenous religions. This has made bringing Christianity to this region a volatile activity.

  I read from your dossier that you're accustomed to the harshness of war from your previous post as a military trauma nurse. Because of your experience, your willingness to work in this area, and our lack of nurses, I have recommended you for your desired position.

  In the following weeks, more information will arrive. Please follow every instruction to the letter. As you wait for your packet, make sure your passport and immunizations are up to date.

  Your brother in Christ,

  Alfonzo Gomez

  Tears cascaded along Raylyn's face. Finally she would be able to help people on a grander scale.

  Chapter Nine

  Three weeks passed. Every groan and creak of the house was discernible without Rory’s constant rambling. Jack found he missed the Brit more and more with each passing day. Frequent trips to Pearl Valley had revealed nothing of Raylyn, and his frustrations grew.

  Janie, Trevor’s wife, had suggested that perhaps Raylyn had only visited Sapphire Shoals for the gem festival. Still, her father had sent out feelers, but neither Janie nor Trevor seemed to expect results, which caused his hopes to plummet even further.

  He needed a distraction. He loaded a backpack with supplies. Perhaps hiking alone in foreign territory while physically challenged wasn’t the smartest idea he’d ever had, but it wouldn’t keep him from doing it. He was ex-military and specially trained to endure difficult and unknown situations; surely he could handle a hike in the cabin’s back yard.

  The sun rose above the ridge, and he tied a bandana around his head. He secured two walking poles from the porch and set out.

  The first trail was fairly simple. Flat and well-marked, it led to a large overhanging rock. Unusual in appearance, the rock appeared to be held aloft by a tiny stick wedged against the uneven floor and the cracked ceiling.

  From there he climbed thirty stone steps, lined with twisted ivy that mimicked a thick rope. Like an L-shaped staircase, a platform appeared. He paused and drew in a ragged breath. He hadn’t pushed himself this hard since before his accident, and he was feeling the effects.

  Breathing regular, he headed up another set of steps, which ended on a flat surface that jutted out over the edge of a cliff. Tangled vines and bushes hid a wooden bench. Knife unsheathed, he cut the foliage back and sat. The valley spread out below.

  Trees sported yellows, red, browns, and greens. A crisp cool wind blew over him and stung his cheeks. The beauty of the place almost took his breath away, but nothing could stop the longing ache in his heart. It was as if a hole needed to be filled.

  Poles in hand, and backpack hoisted on to his back, he prepared to leave. The trip up had been nice, but he was too tired to continue farther. Maybe next time.

  He descended carefully, placing his feet in the right spot on the smooth stone steps. On the platform he stopped and looked out over the vast area. In the distance, mountaintops were covered in a thick fog, creating an eerie look.

  Grooves cut across the mountainside, indicating other trails. An individual could hike for years and not discover all the wonders of the place. Jack looked through his binoculars and focused on a bare spot.

  Rory had called to tell him everything at home was fine, and the crisis he’d thought his family was set to suffer had been avoided, although he’d left out the details.

  While on the phone, Jack had made a request.

  “I need to get out of here.”

  “I understand the transition back to normal life has been a difficult one, but—“

  “Don’t give me the speech about time. I know what I’m missing, and I’m not talking about my leg.”

  “Well, what then?”

  “I have this hole, this place in my heart. I feel like there is something I need to do. I need to give back.”

  “And you think I can help with this?”

  “I do. I remember you saying Hannah’s friends used to be in the missionary field.”

  “Yes. They were last stationed in South Africa, but have since returned to America.”

  “Do they still know people in missions?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I need you to talk to them for me about—”

  A bird cawed and drew Jack back to the present. He ran his hand over his lengthening hair and sighed. The letter accepting him to the mission field in some remote place sat on the small desk just inside the cabin door. He’d read the letter over and over. They wanted him to be a pilot, to fly a small plane over the mountainous regions of Mexico and deliver supplies and medicine. But he couldn’t.

  He had called and explained the problem to the leader of the Aviation Missionary Board and had received nothing but stunned silence. Stumbling over his words, the man had simply said they would be in touch. So now he waited to hear his fate.

  Jack’s heart fluttered madly in his chest, and he threw the binoculars on the ground. The sound of cracking glass reached his ears, and he rolled his eyes to the sky.

  “Why does this keep happening?” he muttered.

  Shoving the broken binoculars into his pack, he continued to the cabin.

  Maybe he needed to call the therapist at the hospital and see if he could make an appointment with a local doctor. If he could talk about his problems, maybe he could make sense of them; however, he doubted it. The issue of him flying again was not something he wanted to change about himself. He would be happy if he never stepped into a cockpit again. The responsibility was too much.

  The trail widened, and he reached the cabin. He noted the start of another trail and seriously considered walking it to see what he would find, but changed his mind. The sun dipped fast behind the mountainous peaks, and soon it would be too dark to see without a flashlight.

  He entered the cabin and threw his pack on the floor. After a light supper and a shower, he headed to the porch and took a seat in a rocking chair. The motion reminded him of w
hen he’d been a little kid.

  His mother and father had owned acreage for as far as the eye could see. They’d grown everything from potatoes to corn and had worked the land to sell the food and for their own use.

  Everything had gone well until his mother had become ill in his freshman year of high school. It was like her tiny frame had wilted before his eyes. They’d said it was some kind of muscle disorder, but Jack only remembered how she couldn’t take care of herself.

  Memories of long afternoons sitting on the old wooden porch, his father gently strumming a guitar, and his mother’s lilting voice singing the iconic words of “Amazing Grace” floated through his mind.

  A sigh left his lips. If only he could talk to his father and share these memories. The good Lord knew he’d thought about calling on multiple occasions since he’d left the hospital, but he couldn’t get up the nerve.

  Sorrow engulfed him. Would his life always be this way, or did God have another plan? Jack pulled a small Bible from his back pocket and started to read.

  ****

  After a grueling day of work at the clinic, Raylyn arrived at Uncle Roland and Aunt Renee’s house and plopped onto the overly fluffy, flowery couch. The fan wobbled and swirled overhead. The lamp light flickered on at her touch.

  “A package came for you today, dear.”

  Raylyn took the large envelope and waited until Renee left before opening it. The contents slid into her lap.

  The header read, Welcome to the Transformed Church of America! Tingles raced along her spine. She’d received her assignment and was expected to report to Grand Rapids, Michigan, for training.

  Prepared to race from her seat to the kitchen, she came face-to-face with Aunt Renee. She stood there, wringing her hands on a dishtowel.

  “So, the time has finally come?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess I always knew you wouldn’t stick around long. Since the moment your parents brought you to our house, I knew you were destined to do great things. And now, here you are, going and doing those great things. I couldn’t be more proud.” The ensuing hug lasted for ages and ended with them both in tears.