by Lisa Harris
Chad patted his stomach. “Then I’d say you’re the answer to my prayers.”
An hour and a half later, Natalie opened the gate to let out the last of the guests. Except for Chad. He stood behind her, the porch light illuminating his boyish grin, and shoved his hands into his front pockets. “I’m not exactly in a big hurry to get home to my empty room. Need some help cleaning up?”
“Are you volunteering to do my dishes or trying to talk me out of getting involved with Joseph?”
He shot her a sheepish look and followed her back into the house. “Maybe a little of both.”
“At least you’re honest. Which is more than I can say for some people around here.” She grabbed a pile of plastic cups and headed for the kitchen, thankful that the slight awkwardness between them at the clinic had vanished.
“From what I could tell, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.”
“As long as Stephen had a good birthday, then I’m happy. He can be cranky at times, but overall he’s a good guy.” Natalie rummaged through the cupboard for some pain medicine to take the edge off the headache that had been brewing behind her temples since her conversation with Patrick. “And I always enjoy catching up with friends.”
Chad started scraping dishes into the trash. “I haven’t had a chance to ask you what you’re doing here. You had an interesting assortment of guests. The former head of security to the president, a government nonprofit liaison, an American journalist, and a nurse, for starters.”
She swallowed the pills with the last of the punch. “You learned all that in the space of an hour and a half?”
“People intrigue me.”
Natalie smiled. She liked a man who wasn’t all about himself. “I’m working to prevent the spread of communicable diseases. Stephen—the nonprofit liaison who works alongside the minister of health—is my boss, in a roundabout way. Technically I work for an organization out of the States, but I’m pretty much at the disposal of what they want done here in the field.”
“Disease control. That’s pretty important work.” Chad turned on the tap and started rinsing the dishes while she worked to clear the leftover food from the adjoining room. “Is that how you met Joseph?”
“Yes.” She covered the leftover cake and set it in her small fridge. “One of the main methods of disease control, as I’m sure you know, is vaccinations and education. During school holidays he worked a number of times as my translator in some of the more remote villages.”
Chad stopped to look at her. “How is he?”
“Asleep in the back room.”
“That would be the medicine I gave him. I thought it might help to calm him down.”
Twenty minutes later, Natalie glanced around the living room and kitchen and smiled. “Well, that was painless. And quick. I appreciate your help.”
Chad hung up the wet dish towel he’d been using. “I suppose I should head home now.”
Natalie didn’t stop to think about what she wanted to say. Chad might not agree with her involvement, but if she was going to help Joseph, she needed advice from someone she could trust. “You know I’m not going to just forget about what happened out in the village.”
He shot her a half smile. “I suppose you don’t come across as someone who’d simply walk away, but that doesn’t change how I feel. Working in health care in a third-world country has its own risks, but getting tangled up in the corruption that could be underlying a government is an entirely different story.”
She shook her head. “So I do nothing? Just allow Joseph’s family to rot away in some godforsaken mine?”
“You make it tough to ignore.”
“Good. I’ve got a comfy wooden swing in the backyard that the previous renters left. It’s perfect for brainstorming, if you’re not in a hurry to leave.”
Chad shoved his hands into his back pockets. “I think I’d like that.”
FIVE
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 10:15 P.M.
BACKYARD OF NATALIE’S HOUSE, KASILI
Chad pushed his foot against the hard ground and let the swing sway gently back and then forward. Twelve hours ago he would never have imagined himself relaxing beneath the night sky. After two months of intense work at the clinic with little time off and no social life, the distraction was good. The company even better. And the second helping of chocolate cake wasn’t too bad either.
He took another bite of the sweet dessert and savored the flavor. The food the clinic served could never compare to this.
But that didn’t change the fact that Natalie was putting herself in the middle of something that could turn out to be extremely dangerous. Government coups and rigged elections weren’t something to get involved in.
He wasn’t ready to tackle that subject. Not yet, anyway.
“Why Africa?” he began. “From the looks of things you could have about any job you wanted.”
Natalie laughed. “So why some hole-in-the-wall city like Kasili, Dhambizao?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it too cliché to say I wanted to make a difference in the world?”
He took a sip of his coffee. “I suppose I could say the same. There’s something about working here that helps make up for at least some of the problems in this world.”
“Which is why I can’t forget the look on Joseph’s face when he told me about his family.”
He toyed with a bit of cake. Maybe he was really no different than she. He hadn’t been able to forget the faces he’d known growing up here.
“So why did you come back to the RD? Everyone heard how you and your family escaped during the last election. It must have been terrifying.”
He scraped a glob of frosting from the plate, then licked his fork. “I’ve asked myself that very question a time or two since returning here. I had nightmares the first few days as memories from the coup flooded back, and I still jump every time a taxi backfires.”
Thinking about it, Chad flinched. He could still hear the gunfire that had echoed around them the day of the coup…Women screaming as they ran through the streets with their children…Safety had seemed elusive. But, somehow, they’d made it out alive.
He pushed aside the losses of that day and focused instead on Natalie’s question. “They need me here. I speak the local language, which gives me an advantage above other volunteers. But mainly I came for the same reason as every other person who hops on a plane to take part in some grand humanitarian mission.”
“Do you think we really do?”
“Make a difference?”
She nodded and even in the shadows of the backyard, he caught the sadness in her expression.
Chad combed his fingers through his hair wishing he could avoid the question. But it was one he knew they both had to deal with every day. “Tonight I lost a patient. Her name was Hanna, and she was twenty-four years old. She was the only sibling still alive out of one brother and two sisters, and she had three small children of her own. She gave birth to a baby in a mud hut twenty miles from here. A traditional midwife did what she could, but with no sterile instruments tetanus set in. In the end it killed both her and her baby.”
“I deal with preventing death, so I don’t have to face it too often.” She brushed back a wisp of hair and furrowed her brow. “I can’t imagine seeing all the suffering you do.”
Chad gnawed on his lower lip. Her insight was legitimate. As a doctor, he’d learned to remove himself emotionally from the situation in order to deal with the grim realities of life and death, but even that ability didn’t completely numb him. Losing someone always hurt, just like saving someone always strengthened his determination to stay in the game.
He reached down to set his empty plate and fork on the ground beside him, surprised at how talking about the young woman helped ease the sorrow he felt over her death. “I have another patient named Malaika. She gave birth two days ago at the clinic. She would have bled to death in the village, but we were able to save her. I never quite get over losing a patient, but e
very one I save helps to remind me that it’s worth the risk. And that, I suppose, makes it worth being here.”
Natalie ran her index finger around the rim of her mug. “How long did you commit to stay?”
“Six months. How about you?”
“Two years.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes intense. “Do you ever question where God is in all of this?”
“Yeah.” He’d asked God that very question tonight when the nurse told him Hanna was gone. “I never could understand my father. He was an optimist who could look beyond the situation and see God’s greater work. All he ever tried to do was serve God by helping one person at a time. I’ve always wanted to be like him.”
“Not a bad philosophy. But what about you? Where do you see God in all of this?”
“Truthfully? Sometimes I’m not sure what role God plays.” His frankness surprised even himself. “I told you I wasn’t cynical, but maybe I am.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” She stretched out her legs. “I’m sorry to have gotten so serious, but it helps to be able to talk with someone who understands. I know God wants me here, but sometimes the burden of what I have to deal with gets too heavy.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” He smiled at her because he liked her honesty. He liked the familiarity of her American accent, the fact that they shared the same faith, and even the Oregon Ducks mug she drank her coffee from. They were all things he was comfortable with—a part of home and their shared background.
“I know you think I’m wrong, but I can’t stop thinking about Joseph, his father and mother, and his little sister. There’s got to be something I can do.”
He wondered if the nightmare of living through the last coup was his real reason for not wanting to get drawn in. “We don’t know who’s involved, or who we can trust. If this district is mixed up in all this, like Joseph said, that means there’s likely to be bribed officials or sympathizers on every level in this area.”
“So I just sit back and do nothing, like you said?”
He glanced at his watch. It was getting late, but he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. Surely there was an answer here somewhere. “Have you thought any more about what you’re going to do about Joseph?”
“I don’t know. He can’t go back to his village. I suppose I could help him get to the capital. He stays there with his uncle during the school year.”
“And the Ghost Soldiers?”
Natalie blew out a short breath. “Patrick told me tonight he has proof that the Ghost Soldiers are nothing more than rumors from the opposition party to discredit the current government.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I want to, but I also can’t forget what Joseph told me…Something happened, Chad. Something horrible.”
Part of him wanted to assure her everything was going to be all right, but that was one guarantee he could never make. Losing his best friend, Stewart, to gunfire during the coup all those years ago had taught him that. “I still don’t think you should get involved, but call me if you need to, okay?”
She nodded, and they both sat quietly for a few moments as the swing rocked back and forth. Somewhere in the night a cricket chirped, and an owl hooted in the trees above them. A radio played next door, its static reception crackling across the breeze. Poverty, hardship, and death surrounded them both, yet somehow life went on. Babies were born and grew up to have babies of their own. People found ways to survive in conditions his friends back home couldn’t understand.
Maybe God was still here…somewhere.
He cleared his throat and shifted to the edge of the swing. “Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed myself immensely, but I think I’d better go. Five o’clock is going to come sooner than I want.”
“Thanks for staying.”
He caught her smile and felt a sense of peace wash over him. “You’re welcome.”
With a start, Natalie sat up on the lumpy couch in her living room and stared at the figure standing above her. “Joseph. You scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry. I…I need some water. Please.”
“Sure.”
Natalie stumbled across the living room, still half asleep. She shook her head, trying to forget the dreams that had haunted her. Even in sleep, she couldn’t shake the implications of Joseph’s story.
She poured him a glass of filtered water from the fridge, then leaned against the counter while he drank it. When he finished, he set the cup down in the sink and caught her gaze.
“I need you to take me to my village.”
“Your village?” She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, still hearing Chad’s warnings. He was right. She shouldn’t get involved. “I don’t know, Joseph.”
“Everything I told you is true. My sister and parents were dragged up into the mountains…the dead bodies.” The tone of his voice pleaded with her. “I need you to see it. I need you to believe me.”
“I want to help you, Joseph, but—”
“They will kill my father.” His hands dropped to his sides. “He has TB.”
“Tuberculosis?” Joseph’s words pierced her heart. “I didn’t know.”
“He can’t work in the mines. Maybe a few days…but in the end…when his strength leaves, they will kill him. Like they killed my grandfather.”
“I don’t know what to say except that I’m so sorry.”
“Then you will take me to my village? You will see what I saw and help me find my camera? I need the photos. I need to save my family.”
Natalie rubbed the back of her neck. Photos would prove to Patrick, Stephen, and even to Chad what had happened. And would help substantiate Joseph’s claims that the Ghost Soldiers existed.
Natalie nodded. “We’ll go in the morning.”
SIX
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 8:31 A.M.
ONE HUNDRED KILOMETERS OUTSIDE KASILI
Joseph stared out the window of Natalie’s two-door car, the thick forest a blur of green as they headed into the mountains. The first few kilometers outside the city had been dotted with dozens of pedestrians making their way along the edges of the tarmac road. Donkeys pulled wooden carts. Women balanced firewood on their heads. Children played in the ditches using old tires and bottles as toys.
As the elevation had increased, fewer people lined the pothole-filled road. Now all he saw besides the trees were occasional small villages where goats and chickens roamed free between circles of mud huts.
He glanced at Natalie, who stared straight ahead, her knuckles whitened from gripping the steering wheel. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one dreading what lay ahead.
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I heard someone talking about the Ghost Soldiers last night at your house.”
Her frown deepened. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was afraid to sleep.” Darkness had brought renewed terror as it dragged his mind back to his village. The morning sun peeking over the crest of trees had done little to remove the fear.
Natalie loosened her grip and wiggled her fingers. “I spoke about them with Patrick Seko, who used to be the former head of security to the president. Now he’s heading up a specialized task force, and apparently one of his jobs is to find the truth behind the rumors.”
His heart sank at her admission. “So you believe they are only rumors.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“But you don’t believe it’s true.”
“I believe you, but I need proof, Joseph. Patrick said that the soldiers are nothing more than rumors spread by the opposition to discredit the president, and with the elections being held in three days, that’s what most people are going to believe.” She shot him a quick glance. “But don’t worry. I brought my camera, and if nothing else, I’ll be able to photograph what’s left of the village. They’ll be evidence of what happened.”
Like his grandfather’s body. A chill slid up his spine. “And then?”
“I’ll take the photos to a few key people.
I might not like Patrick, but I don’t think that even he would try to sit on the truth.”
Joseph wanted to grasp onto the optimism in her voice, but her stoic expression deterred him. His people had been too often forgotten. In school, he’d read of the atrocities men had acted out against each other. How would the proven existence of the Ghost Soldiers change anything in his country? A large profit was enough motivation to wipe out the consciences of those in charge.
Natalie shifted gears and glanced at him. “We’re close, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” Joseph jutted out his chin. “Just beyond that tree. We will walk from there.”
The back tires crunched the gravel as Natalie slowed down and parked the car along the edge of the road. Joseph squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly regretting his decision to bring her here. He’d hoped to wake up this morning and find out that everything he’d seen yesterday had been nothing more than a horrible nightmare. But dawn hadn’t erased the vivid images impressed in his mind. Nor their reality.
Taking in a deep breath, he forced himself to get out of the car. The potent scent of the forest assailed him. Yesterday it had welcomed him back as one of its own. Today he felt like a stranger. Even the familiar hum of birds and animals urged him to turn around and run.
He wiped away a trickle of moisture from his neck. The humid air grew thick in his throat, and his breathing turned shallow. A picture of his sister surfaced in his mind’s eye. Wide brown eyes, tangles of black braids, bright smile. And his father…They had to find him before it was too late—
No.
He pushed away the fear that threatened to leave him immobile. He could do this. He had to do this for his family.
Natalie slammed her door shut with her hip and slung her bag over her shoulder. She threw him an oblong object that he caught in midair. “What is it?”
“A granola bar. You hardly ate anything this morning.” Natalie stood at the edge of the road, ripped the plastic wrapper off her own bar, and took a bite.
Joseph chewed on the grainy bar, missing his mother’s cooking prepared over the fire every morning. Before he’d left home to attend school in the city, it had been his job to walk the three kilometers to the river to haul water for drinking, bathing, and cooking. Days had been filled with similar chores. Gathering firewood, tending to the few livestock they possessed, and watching after his younger sibling.