Million Dollar Dilemma

by Judy Baer

  “Something compelled” him, huh? It occurs to me that if this were dusted for fingerprints, God’s would be all over it. I took the folder.

  Terrance, obviously a suave and sophisticated man, seemed completely unnerved. “I just wanted you to know how much Adam struggled with deceiving you. I’m sorry.”

  “Where is he? Why doesn’t he apologize for himself?”

  Now the agent looked really miserable. “I don’t know. Adam was down on himself and the world when he left. He said he needed to get away.” Terrance shuffled his feet on my floor. “There’s no one in the world who can take better care of himself than Adam. But this is the longest I’ve ever gone without hearing something from him.” He smiled lopsidedly. “On the other hand, he often takes time after a tough assignment to regroup and rest. The Greek islands are a special favorite of his.”

  I felt the anxiety rolling off him in waves, and it wasn’t helping my disquieted state of mind one bit. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t help it. I’ve known him a long time and never seen him quite like this.” He looked at me speculatively. “You have the ability to tie him in knots, you know.”

  “It’s my fault now?”

  Terrance smiled. “That’s not the kind of knots I meant. Adam’s hard to read, but he values your friendship…a lot. He’s grieved over losing it.”

  Just once I wish people would let me decide what I’m thinking and who I want in my life. Just once!

  Holding the battered file to my chest, I walked Terrance to the door and let him out.

  Adam is a grown man who can take care of himself. Worrying about him is not my job. What transpired between us is over. Actually, I should be grateful to him. He, through Frankie, was the first one to point the light in the direction of Burundi. Still, the fact is, Adam has disappeared off the face of the map and I don’t like it one bit.

  CHAPTER 37

  Adam had run away and he knew it.

  “What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” He’d done a great job of it. A humorless grin pulled at one corner of his mouth. He was a regular webmaster of the insect type and feeling low as an earthworm’s belly to boot. He’d not only hit the bottom of the barrel, he’d explored its underside.

  But enough beating himself up, he chided himself. Leaving the Cities—and Cassia—was cowardly, but it was also necessary.

  Not only had he deceived his journalistic target, he’d fallen in love with her. At first she’d been only a means to an end—albeit a worthy one—but it had taken only hours before she’d begun to thaw the ice he’d thought permanently encased his heart.

  He sat in an airport restaurant for over two hours watching people walk by before moving to his gate. Now he scrutinized the businessmen and women carrying briefcases or poking at their laptop computers. They all looked like people on a mission, knowing where they were going and what they were doing. There were families waiting to embark on vacations, college-age young adults toting backpacks and plugged in to radios or CD players, oblivious to the hum of voices around them.

  For the first time in his life Adam didn’t have an agenda. No, make that the second time. He hadn’t planned to fall in love with Cassia or get caught in the ethical conundrum that had ensued. He’d believed he was smarter than that. Unfortunately Cassia seemed to have the ability to muddle his brain with a look or a smile. A guy whose friends teased him about being a “man of steel” where clear thinking and logic were concerned wasn’t accustomed to being putty in anyone’s hands.

  But there was no use torturing himself by playing the “what if” game. He’d blown any chance he might have had with her by not being up front with her. All that was left to do now was find a new path for his life.

  Maybe he’d do some “extreme travel” articles about mountain climbing in Nepal or winter camping in Siberia. And he’d always had an interest in China. Maybe he’d walk the Great Wall.

  If only he’d never met her, he wouldn’t have this sucking wound in his chest…but he had met her. That, Adam told himself firmly, was then. This is now.

  “Buck up, old boy,” he muttered to himself.

  Then the ticket agent called his row. He hoisted his backpack to his shoulder and headed in the direction he knew he could go.

  CHAPTER 38

  Although I’m flying today, I’m not going to put my full weight down quite yet.

  Experienced travelers, Frankie and Elise tucked themselves in for a long nap almost before we were airborne. I, having scared myself silly reading the precautions I should take for a lengthy overseas trip, was busy scoping out exits, scouring information pamphlets and eyeballing people in the escape rows to decide if they were fit enough to wrench the doors off in case of an emergency. I was diligent about taking walks and doing exercises in my seat to prevent blood clots, and I was, of course, praying full tilt the entire while. I felt it was my Christian duty to keep reminding God we were up here, practically in outer space, and that we were depending on Him to keep the pilot awake and on task.

  I’ve shoveled snow for hours at a time and found it easier than this.

  The hours after we landed were such a blur that, if pressed, I’m not sure I could recall what I saw or where I was. It was a kaleidoscope of color, sound and smell. Hot dry air, languages foreign to my ears and exhaustion were overriding my senses. Worn out, I leaned back into the competent care of Frankie and Elise, who seemed to know exactly what they were doing and how to get to our hotel. I barely remember getting to my room or falling asleep.

  “Hey, in there, are you awake?” Elise’s chipper voice on Friday morning was a stark contrast to my semiconscious state.

  “Come in,” I muttered, opening my door. “And don’t be too cheerful. I’m exhausted.”

  “Jet lag. It takes a bit to recover.”

  She sat down on the end of my bed and grinned at me. “But while you were lollygagging in bed, I’ve been busy making appointments with people who can help us carry this off. The relief funds and Christian charities I contacted stateside gave me names and locations. We should be able to start spending your money very soon. And I’ve learned,” she continued, “that a group of countries, including Burundi, Sudan and Rwanda, are establishing a system for monitoring orphaned and vulnerable children. There are so many more children ill or orphaned as a result of AIDS that they see the need for a concerted response to the problems. Perhaps we can use some of that research to find the neediest ones more quickly.”

  Finally I’m in action. God has all the puzzle pieces in place, and the larger picture is emerging.

  “I’ve also made contact with an orphanage and a school that may be able to help us build more of both in rural areas. There are local churches willing to help in any way they can.”

  “You did all this in the hours we’ve been here?”

  “Most of this information came through sources in the states. I’m not a miracle worker, but I have acted as a fund-raiser back home. It’s all in whom you know.”

  “God strikes,” I told her. “Not only does He introduce me to the people who can take me to Burundi, He also throws in a professional businessperson and fund-raiser who can do in weeks what might take me years.”

  “But you’re the one with the money. We need you and we need to work fast. We can’t stay here long, you know.”

  I felt a flutter of concern in my belly. We hadn’t come to the safest place on the planet, that’s for sure. Bujumbura, the capital, where our plane had landed, maintains a curfew. Rebel activity in the outlying areas is common. It amazes me how calm I feel in this circumstance in which I can’t rely on myself for anything. God must get me through.

  “By the way, Frankie is going to the village where he took those photos,” Elise informed me. “I’m going to stay here and see what I can learn about the local feeding centers. Apparently they use a highly nutritious formula to bring starving children back to health. After that they switch them to the same stuff in a soli
d. Providing more might be a great place to start, and quick, too. After all, we won’t need the schools and orphanages unless we save the children first. Do you want to go with me or ride along with Frankie?”

  It was tempting to stay with Elise. Having business meetings and making plans sounded safe. Bouncing off into rural Burundi is not in my comfort zone.

  “I’ll go with Frankie.”

  “Do you trust me to make decisions for you if anything comes up? I don’t want to do anything without your stamp of approval.”

  “You’re the experienced one, Elise. Besides, I won’t even have a vision for the types of things we can provide until I visit some of the villages, right?”

  She stood up and wrapped her arms around me in a big hug. “You are the bravest, most generous person I’ve ever met.”

  I hugged her back. “Actually, I’ve always thought of myself as cowardly and tightfisted, but maybe I do have some potential in those areas.” I glanced heavenward. “Through no fault of my own.”

  She walked toward the door. “Don’t forget sunscreen, a wide-brimmed hat and extra water. And tell my husband not to drive like a maniac.”

  I gave Frankie the message, but either he didn’t hear me or he ignored me. We bounced along the rough trail in a stripped-down Jeep that made my old car look like a brand-new Porsche. Frankie drove at full tilt until my breakfast turned into a milkshake.

  “What’s the hurry?” I yelled over the engine noise. I sat on my sun hat to keep it from blowing away and hung on for dear life. Frankie, familiar with his own driving, had strapped his camera and gear down in back so that it wouldn’t be thrown from the vehicle.

  “I want to take as many rolls of film as I can of this village. Elise plans to put together portfolios for more fund-raising, and Adam’s agent asked me to bring back more photos.”

  “More fund-raising?” I squeaked, my teeth rattling like a pair of fake choppers. “Don’t I have enough money?”

  Frankie looked at me in surprise. “Elise must not have told you about her latest idea. She thinks that if you build schools, orphanages and feeding centers, perhaps churches and other charitable organizations will agree to take on the day-to-day operational costs. It’s actually not that much in U.S. dollars. If so, then you can continue to put infrastructure in place…wells, hospitals, churches….”

  And I thought my dream was big.

  “There are lots of places that can use your help, Cassia. If it’s planned properly, we can stretch out your money, make it last a long time and do a lot more good.”

  “Oh.” We hit a rut that threatened to swallow us.

  What a switch. Now I was concerned that I wouldn’t have enough money. I sat back, relaxed in my seat and decided to go with the bumps. Not a bad decision for my life, either.

  I’d expected Africa to be all arid desert. This hilly, even mountainous country was a pleasant surprise. Frankie, my travel guide, said that there was a plateau in the eastern part of the country. Lake Tanganyika is in the west. Tang-ga-nyi-ka. I like the way it rolls off my tongue. I’d never expected to see it, however.

  “Not much farther,” Frankie advised me.

  I was enjoying the scenery and was a little sorry our destination was now on the horizon.

  A small community came into view, certainly not like the neighborhoods I’m accustomed to at home. Frankie drove directly to the far side of the village and pulled up at a small building with children playing outside. Two or three adult women seemed to be in charge.

  “Here it is,” Frankie said, as if this explained everything.

  “Okay, but what is it?”

  “This is where Adam and I spent a lot of our time. Most of those pictures I took were in the outlying areas around this village. This building is part orphanage, part hospital, part church.”

  A small boy ran up to Frankie’s side of the truck to stare, and others followed. I had no idea I could be so interesting.

  I plopped my squashed hat on my head and some of the children giggled.

  I turned to ask Frankie if he knew the names of any of my little admirers and was thunderstruck at what I saw.

  CHAPTER 39

  In that one moment my entire love life passed before my eyes.

  Adam rounded the corner of the building and strode toward Frankie. His step slowed. The expression in his eyes told me I was the last person he expected to see. I felt the world decelerate until we were all in slow motion. Time stopped and I devoured the look of him—slimmer, hair shaggier, beard, and lines of weariness etched so deeply into his tanned face that I wanted to touch them with my fingers and smooth them away. He wore an air of sadness like a heavy cloak.

  Unaware that time had stopped for the rest of us, two children ran up to Adam. One of the little boys flung himself against Adam’s leg and practically shimmied himself into Adam’s arms. Without looking at the child, he automatically reached to pick him up.

  Then the world accelerated again.

  “Frankie? What is going on…Cassia? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m working?” I wasn’t quite sure myself at what.

  He shook his head as if to clear cobwebs. “Nobody told me…” He turned to Frankie. “You…”

  “Cassia is with me, Adam. She and Elise have some things going on.”

  “Elise is here, too?”

  “Back in Bujumbura. She has an afternoon full of appointments.”

  “What kind of appointments could Elise possibly have in Bujumbura?”

  The little boy in Adam’s arms snuggled in, rested his head against Adam’s shoulder, stuck a finger in Adam’s hair and began to roll it between his forefinger and thumb the way most children might stroke the silky edge of a blanket. As we stood there talking, I saw the little guy’s body relax and his eyes droop as he fell asleep in the safe haven of Adam’s arms.

  “Like I said, she and Cassia are doing some business together,” Frankie offered enigmatically. “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got work to do. You two can entertain each other.” And like a puff of smoke, Frankie and his camera vanished.

  The silence between us was punctuated by the voices of children and the occasional instruction of one of the adults. Finally, uneasy with the silence, I said, “So this is where you went.”

  A frown etched the furrow in his brow even deeper. His arms and face were brown from the sun, and there was a dramatic contrast between his light shirt and dark complexion. “There are things here I have to finish.”

  “What things?”

  Adam looked at the child in his arms as if noticing him for the first time. “Digging wells, playing with the kids, working at the feeding center, a little of everything. I and another guy, a missionary from Oregon, have been designing a drainage and septic system for this place. Next we’re going to lay a concrete foundation for a new hospital. It won’t be much, but it will free up this building to make room for more children.”

  He grew more engaged the longer he talked about the project. “A few cots, some blankets and pillows and it will look like the Hilton.”

  “I see.”

  He looked at me strangely. “Do you?”

  The question sent a pang through my heart. Did he think I could miss the poverty and the need right before my eyes? Did he think I wasn’t human?

  “You might be surprised how much I see and know,” I snapped.

  He digested that slowly.

  Anger and longing were warring within me. Instinctively I knew he’d built an invisible barrier around himself just to keep me out. My very presence is a source of painful reminders for him. It’s clear that whether or not I forgive him doesn’t matter as long as he refuses to forgive himself.

  “Terrance told me why you did it.”

  He looked dumbfounded. “Terry? Told you what?”

  “How the idea to write a story about me got started in the first place. That you agreed to do it because you could channel the money you earned into places like this one. That no matte
r what I thought or what experience I’d had with you, you were an honorable man.” I studied his still, passive features. “He’s afraid you might give up writing completely.”

  Adam didn’t argue.

  “He also told me I was the ‘fluff’ that would make you enjoy writing again.”

  “And see how well that worked out.” He tipped his head toward a big old tree. I followed him to it. Somehow he managed to slip to the ground with his young charge in his arms and not wake him. Adam leaned against the base of the tree, and the youngster slept soundly against his chest.

  I dropped down by the two of them. “You must be very good friends.”

  Adam looked down fondly at the child. “We’re buddies, James and I.” He noticed my surprise and added, “That’s what he’s called here. His parents both died of AIDS some months back. He was pretty sickly when I first saw him. I started feeding him at night when Frankie and I were around the village. I practically needed an eyedropper at first, but once he got the hang of having food in his belly again, he turned into an eating machine. He was so desperate for affection that sometimes I let him hang out with me while I wrote. After I left, I was afraid he’d go backward, but he’s done pretty well. He hasn’t forgotten me, though.”

  None of us have.

  “I’m surprised you came back here. I thought when you left you were going off to write, rest, or ‘find yourself.’ All there is to do here is work.”

  He smiled crookedly, which made him look rakish. “Finding myself isn’t a bad idea. I lost a part of me when I was writing your story behind your back. I’d never be able to work for a tabloid, I’ve discovered.” His eyes became shadowed. “I’m ashamed of myself, but I just didn’t think you’d let me do the story if I told you what I wanted to do. You were clear on that.” He smiled ruefully. “The good news is that I must have some moral principles left after all.”

  “I wish you’d said something.”

  “I might have, if I’d figured out what it would be. ‘Hi, Cassia, I want to use you to make money for children in some forgotten mountainous country in Africa. Don’t worry, I’ll spend it wisely.’”