Given New Worlds

by Rachael Sircar

  They’d also spent time out in the garden, after Sean did an extensive perimeter check each time, of course. Abby didn’t have the ability to differentiate an okra plant from a marijuana plant, but Sean evidently had some farming skills as he managed to tell her what items should be pulled out of the ground and which should be harvested. She knew by the time Oyana’s sister returned in three weeks, the weeds would have taken over again, but at least Abby and Sean’s pruning would ensure it wouldn’t be a tropical rainforest when they returned.

  By evening, Sean and Abby were exhausted. They showered, ate dinner, and cuddled in the big chair on the front porch until Sean’s phone rang. He glanced over at the cell sitting on the rough wood of the porch. “Sorry. Gotta get this. It’s the old ball and chain.”

  Abby laughed. That was code for the guys that were working on the multiple investigations surrounding them right now. “Court here. What’s up?”

  After a minute, Sean glanced at Abby with a lifted eyebrow, edged out from under her, and stepped towards the house. “Be right back.” She knew why. Something had happened, and it wasn’t good. She stared at the fields stretching out in front of her, the small road that snaked across the countryside from one village to another, and the blue sky that oversaw it all.

  God was there. He was watching, and he knew what was about to happen. Abby felt a sense of foreboding mixed with strength. She could feel it in her bones. It was time for battle.

  The front door opened, and Sean stepped out. His face stone, his body rigid. “It’s time to move out.”

  The drive to Nairobi was filled with silence. The only words spoken were the few from Sean, telling Abby what to do if an attack were to take place. Several of his suggestions matched Veena’s instructions from lifetimes ago, but others were what basically amounted to ‘run as fast as you can and get the hell out’. Abby’s lack of vocal strength was a hindrance as she couldn’t call for help if something happened, but they’d stopped by a store and purchased some supplies, including a very loud whistle as well as disguises for both of them, before entering the Nairobi city limits.

  Sean had received word that Keambiroiro had been taken into custody, but the rest of his gang was still out there somewhere, and Sean wasn’t taking any chances.

  The previous day, they’d made the monumental decision that they needed to be out of Kenya for a while until things blew over. Not only for their sake, but for Oyana, and the workers at the hospital as well.

  Frank and Sandra had offered to take them in, so they scheduled separate flights in order to remain inconspicuous but would be arriving at Bern within two hours of each other. Abby looked forward to seeing Kin and Caleb again, sure that they must have grown great amounts in the months they’d been apart. But her heart ached as she watched the Kenyan landscape pass by the window. She would miss the people, the food, the culture, the music. There was so much here she’d grown to love. It was her true first independent home. The first place she’d ever been able to call her own. And now, here she was, running from it, as she’d run from so many things her entire life. Would that be what her life consisted of? Running?

  They exited off the highway into the airport parking lanes. Sean would leave his car in long term parking until one of his coworkers picked it up and stored it securely in a used car lot to retrieve when he came back. If he came back. Abby couldn’t help but feel an odd abandoning. As if she were deserting Dr. Otieno and his staff. She had piles of paperwork on her desk that would have to be completed by another clerk. Written documents and email would go untouched. She wouldn’t be able to cuddle with the children in the orphanage during her lunch break while Mama Zawadi attempted to shove food down her throat. Little Nathan’s one pair of shorts would have to be sewn by other hands. She was leaving. And it hurt so much.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  SEAN parked the car and they sat. They had no luggage, only what they were carrying on their bodies. It would prove easy for check-in, but gave Abby an uneasy feeling, like a hollowness that needed to be filled. She didn’t know if it was the lack of a suitcase, or possibly the fact that Sean wouldn’t be sitting next to her on the flight.

  “If they ask you to take the head scarf off, tell them you will do it in a separate room with a female officer. That way they won’t do it in front of the public.”

  “We’ve already been through this,” Abby said. She tried to act perturbed, but knew Sean was out of his mind with worry, and the need to protect her.

  “Once you lift off the ground, you’ll be safe. Frank and Sandra will be at the airport waiting for you. I’ll be two hours behind you.”

  “Sean.”

  “I know. I’m repeating myself,” he admitted. “I just don’t want you to get out of this car. I know we made the right decision, but I’m so damn paranoid right now.”

  “It’s okay. You have every right to be,” Abby looked at her cell phone. “I don’t have much time.” She also noticed there was a message from Oyana. It would have to wait until she got into the airport. The service in the parking garage was next to nothing.

  “Okay,” Sean relented. Abby began to push open the door, but Sean shot her a look and she sat still, a smile edging its way on to her lips. Even with all the drama, Sean still wanted to be a gentleman. She looked in the mirror and adjusted the scarf around her head. She’d tried to get it right by watching YouTube videos, but the scarf didn’t seem to sit correctly around her chin.

  Sean helped her out of the car, placed a pair of thick-framed glasses on his face, and they walked towards the departures entrance. Abby continued to fiddle with the scarf while peering into the glass of the windows. “It’s too loose on the bottom. See that?” She tried to maneuver it so that the scarf sat smoothly along her jaw, like she’d seen in the video, but it wasn’t working.

  Sean steered her away and into a small courtyard reserved for smokers and those trying to get out of the hubbub of airport chaos. “Here, let me fix it.” Of course Sean would know how to put a head scarf on a woman. The man seemed to be able to do anything, even with a bum hand. He shook out the long scarf and folded it, then placed it over Abby’s head. But instead of wrapping it under her chin, he pulled her close and whispered. “I will be without you almost an entire day. I don’t know if I can make it.”

  “Same,” Abby said, and lifted her mouth to accept his kiss.

  The sound of low talking voices pulled them out of their euphoria. Abby looked over Sean’s shoulder and saw three young white women pointing their way, with the type of curious smile she recognized from years ago.

  “No. Please, not now.” she whispered, fear etching each word.

  Sean spun around and watched them pull out their cell phones. Sean tensed and a flashback of him shooting at the men in the parking garage flew through Abby’s mind, but he didn’t have his gun today. It was safely packed in a storage box that would sit with his other belongings in one of his coworker’s closet until, or if, he returned.

  They both stood stock still as the women approached. There was no way to exit the courtyard without encountering them, so he finished arranging her scarf, and she placed the large sunglasses they’d purchased over her eyes. Then they began to walk with tucked heads and averted eyes towards the walkway.

  “Are you Abigail and Sean?” one of the women asked, sporting a distinct North American accent.

  Sean held Abby’s arm tightly and continued to walk. “No, but we get that a lot,” he said as they passed by.

  “It’s definitely them. Look at the picture,” another of the women said under her breath.

  A wave of fear throttled Abby as Sean pulled her closer. She sensed the buzz of another text and pulled out her phone. Sean was getting one as well. She didn’t have to pull up the messages to know what Oyana was communicating. The image from the parking garage at the hotel had finally hit the internet.

  After ducking around a corner and verifying the fears played out on their cell messages, Sean and Abby decided to stick wit
h the original plan. They had the advantage of being at an airport with security in every corner, and strict weapon control. Abby would go in wearing the head scarf and hope not to be recognized. Sean would wait in the parking garage, and then follow two hours later. There wasn’t much he could do about altering his appearance besides the glasses. The five-day beard growth wasn’t enough to disguise his distinctive jawline and if the image was out there, surely someone would recognize him in an instant.

  “You need to go,” Sean said, tucking her scarf neatly into position.

  “I know. I just…” Abby had no words. Tears didn’t come, the weight of the situation wouldn’t allow it.

  “I love you, Jamie Poser.”

  “And I love you, Mr. Barrage.”

  The dimple in Sean’s cheek appeared, and Abby caressed it with the tips of her fingers. She lifted to her tiptoes and pressed one final kiss onto his lips, then turned before she had another thought. Because that other thought would be to stay in Africa and not move on to the next world that God had planned for her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  ABBY walked rapidly towards the check-in. Fortunately, there were few passengers and she was able to clear through the gate and security without complications. Even when checking the identification and passport that clearly identified her as Abigail Ellwood, it was done with professionalism and efficiency. Either the security agent at the counter didn’t know who she was or didn’t care. Whatever the case, it brought a huge sense of relief.

  Abby glanced up at the departure board.

  FLIGHT 1354 DELAYED

  She felt her nerves dance through her spine. Walking to the bathroom, Abby took residence in a stall and waited for another thirty minutes to pass before checking the flight board again. After two hours, they were finally boarding. Sean’s flight had been delayed as well. She’d been texting him to try to find out if he’d entered the airport, but he must have been waiting in the garage because she had yet to receive a response.

  As she buckled in, and the intercom asked them to turn their phones off, Abby received one message.

  Complication here. Will not take scheduled flight.

  Abby lost the ability to breathe. She didn’t care what the announcer was saying over the speaker, the cell phone would stay on, and Abby would be glued to it until she could find out what was going on.

  The flight seemed endless. One hour after another, not hearing from Sean, not knowing what complication he’d encountered. Abby suffered through an unpalatable meal and two movies before allowing herself to break down in the tiny bathroom of the airplane. She could feel herself being hurled through the air - alone, without a final destination. Sean had been that terminus, but now he wouldn’t be there.

  Abby met Frank and Sandra at the airport. They seemed unfazed by Sean’s news about the delay and agreed that they would return to pick him up as soon as they received word of his rescheduled flight.

  The fact that it had been sixteen hours since Abby had heard from him tore at her heart. She put a happy face on for the greeting, but Sandra knew it was bothering her. “We saw the picture, Beebee. The media can be cruel.”

  The mention of Abby’s nickname warmed her heart to a manageable level and she found herself able to breathe enough to walk with them towards the car. “I haven’t seen it,” Abby said. The truth was, she was torn between looking at it and ignoring it even existed. She could only imagine what her dad would say.

  Her dad.

  She needed to talk to him. Now that Sean had given her an idea of the pain that Dad had been going through, she needed to reassure him that she was going to be all right. The trouble was, by seeing the picture, Dad would know that Sean had followed her to Nairobi. He had been tortured with the fact that his daughter had been stalked throughout her life, and now to find out that the man he had shot had followed her to Kenya? It wasn’t going to be easy on him.

  When they arrived at the house, Kin and Caleb ran out to the driveway, followed by Sandra’s sister who had been caring for them. “Beebee!” Caleb called out and ran to her open arms. They had done teleconferences at least once a month while Abby was in Kenya, and she’d watched him grow, but the difference of six months was amazing. His hair was thicker and darker, not the light red-orange of Frank’s anymore, and he had lost some of his baby fat to little muscles in his arms and legs that seemed to be constantly on the go as he ran circles around Abby while she tried to enter the house.

  Kin stood off to the side, shy as usual, but it wouldn’t take long for her to warm up. Soon, she would be showing Abby all her stuffed animals and making Abby pour pretend tea into little plastic cups at the princess table.

  Abby took a shower and dressed in some of Sandra’s clothes before sitting down to dinner. All she really wanted was to cuddle up in bed with her cell phone and wait for Sean’s call, but she needed to show some graciousness for all that Frank and Sandra had done for her.

  After dinner, and some cuddling with Caleb before he went to bed, Abby retired to her old room. She remembered when she’d first arrived; aching, mute, and broken. Now she was new again, but to what end? She felt like she had begun a new race, but the finish line had disappeared. The same question littered her mind that had been there the first time she’d slept in this room.

  Where was Sean?

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  IT was two in the morning when Abby finally received a text.

  Will not be able to make it.

  Gen 29:20

  The message was a bullet to her heart. Not able to make it? Why? How? Was it a delay? Or had something else happened?

  Abby texted back again and again, she left voice mail messages, she called Oyana and even Dr. Otieno. But there was nothing. No news of Sean or his whereabouts. Abby felt herself drifting into the endless ocean she’d lived in after the attack.

  But she wasn’t there anymore. This was her new world. Her new life. With or without Sean by her side, Abby knew that God had purpose for her. It may not have been visible, but she could feel the hand of the Holy Spirit on her shoulder, guiding her.

  After hours of voice mails, phone calls, and crying on Sandra’s shoulder, Abby relented and allowed sleep to take over.

  Sandra had insisted on giving Abby a sleeping pill. Something left over from her last visit, and it was effective until late in the morning the next day. Kin and Sandra had gone to school and Caleb was at the nursery. Frank stayed home and made Abby toast and soup for brunch. His face was solemn, and he moved slowly while preparing the meal, then sat down across from her at the table.

  “I have something to tell you,” he said once she’d finished off most of the soup.

  Abby nodded her head. She figured it was about Sean and prepared for the worst.

  “Your dad had a stroke while you were sleeping. He’s in the hospital.”

  Her invincible, healthy father? A stroke? The fact that strokes were often due to stress didn’t slip by her. What if he’d seen the picture of her and Sean in the parking garage. Was it possible that this stroke was her fault? Abby’s eyes filled with tears. So many had already been shed. It was impossible that she had any more.

  “There’s a red-eye flight at eight tonight that can take you home with only one stop. Do you want me to book it for you?”

  Home? Where was home anymore? Was it here, with Frank and Sandra? Florida where Dad was suffering from a stroke in the hospital? Kenya, where Dr. Otieno and Mama Zawadi had hundreds of tasks that she could be helping them with? Or was it wherever Sean was? … Wherever he was.

  “Yes. That would be very kind of you,” Abby said, taking up one last spoonful of soup, but not lifting it to her mouth. “Do you know the details?”

  “I’m not very good with medical terms,” Frank confessed. “That’s more Sandra’s thing. But I can tell you he had a clot that blocked blood to his brain for a while. I’m not going to lie to you, Beebee. They said it could result in brain damage.”

  Abby pushed the spoon back and
forth in the bowl, not able to look into Frank’s caring eyes. She knew he was aching for her. He was aching for himself as well. Frank had often told her stories about how he used to follow Dad around like a puppy dog when they were younger. Dad was a teenager when Frank was just a little boy, and they thought the world of each other. And now, Frank had to break this news to his daughter.

  “I’ve seen strokes,” Abby said, trying to sound brave. “You never know. Much of the time, people are just fine afterwards.”

  “Yes,” Frank said quietly. “Just fine.”

  Abby absentmindedly washed dishes while Frank scheduled the flight. The last place she wanted to be was the United States, on a plane again, moving backwards in life towards the place she’d started. Was this God’s will? For her to start over again? She didn’t know. All she could know at this point was that two of the men she loved the most were potentially slipping out of her grasp.

  Abby transitioned into her comfort mode; not talking, not thinking, just sitting in a rocking chair on the back porch, wrapped in a blanket, her breath settling in misty ice droplets on the wool in front of her lips.

  When Sandra and the kids arrived, she insisted that Abby come in from the cold and take a bath. Abby obeyed noncommittally and sat in the hot water with little ambition to wash her hair and body. Eventually, her skin pruned up and the water became tepid. She rushed to shampoo, then ran soap over her skin, wishing she could wash away the sadness that seemed to envelope every pore in her body.

  Three hours later, Abby was on another flight - back to the United States. She sensed the familiarity of American accents and swagger as she sat in her seat. She thought about her pampered and protected childhood. While the nannies and private schools had taken care of most of her upbringing, Dad had always been there. A strength that had never weakened. She recalled how he would ruffle her hair whenever he’d walked past her, how every once in a while, he would wake her up in the mornings with out-of-tune songs featuring botched lyrics, and how he would sit across from her at Sunday luncheons and tell her how proud he was of his daughter, and how much he loved her. Would she ever have that again? Would he be able to speak? To think? Abby pictured the man of unbreakable strength as a broken, unmoving victim of stroke. Tears flowed in torrents and Abby didn’t care who saw them anymore.