by Kathy Macias
“So,” John said at last, setting down his half-empty glass. “We’ve reviewed the weather and all the other non-issues. Shall we tackle the elephant in the room?”
Tyler’s previously animated expression changed, his dark eyes losing their sparkle. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t like this one bit. Where in the world did Mom get such a crazy idea?”
Marie felt her cheeks grow hot, but before she could open her mouth to take responsibility, John intervened.
“The Barneses are friends of ours from church. Your grandmother mentioned what they were doing, never imagining your mother would be interested. We’ve been concerned about her continued depression since your dad died, but as far as her job went, we thought she was perfectly content teaching at the high school. Quite obviously we were wrong.”
Marie glanced at her husband, and when their eyes met she knew he understood her silent but grateful message. She was so blessed to have such a loving partner, and she could certainly understand how lonely her daughter was since her own husband had died. Still, did that mean she had to travel so far away and put herself in mortal danger to try to ease the pain?
“Before we get started, can I say one thing?” Brittney asked.
Her grandfather’s bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows lifted, and then he nodded. “Of course you can, sweetheart. What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about this nearly nonstop since yesterday, and I absolutely do not want Mom going there, period. But . . .” She hesitated, and Marie noticed her cheeks flush before she continued. “But it just occurred to me that maybe we’re making this too much about us—the four of us, I mean—and not enough about Mom. This really is her decision, and . . .” She paused again, taking a deep breath before going on. “And besides, you both are always telling us how we have to trust God with our lives. I know Mom and Tyler and I aren’t exactly into the church thing the way you two are, but still . . .” She frowned, her green eyes taking on a deep intensity as she looked from one grandparent to another. “Isn’t this one of those cases where we’re just going to have trust God with whatever Mom decides? Because deep down, even though I don’t want Mom to go, it feels wrong to try to stop her just because we’re afraid of what might happen to her.”
Hot tears pricked Marie’s eyes, and she did her best to blink them away. How long had she and John prayed, not only for Julia but for their grandchildren, wanting nothing more than to see them serving God in whatever way the Lord had purposed? Her heart raced at the implications, as she turned toward her husband. John’s face had paled, as their granddaughter’s words hung in the air between them.
Tyler was the one to interrupt the silence, anger shining in his eyes as he spoke. “No way, Britt. No way. I don’t even want to hear this. What kind of God would send Mom to some heathen place to teach people who don’t even want her there?” He shook his head. “I’m not buying it. No way.”
Marie’s heart ached as she looked from one grandchild to the other. Her spirit knew Brittney was right, but her mother’s heart cried out to agree with Tyler.
CHAPTER 3
CAROLYN BARNES’S SHORT GRAY CURLS frizzed as they always did in the humid climate of the rain forests of southern Mexico. The day had started with scarcely a breath of breeze, making the heat even more oppressive. But Carolyn didn’t mind. As she sat with her husband on the tiny patio in the shade of the gum tree outside their one-room cottage during their brief lunch break, she thought as she had so many times before that she’d never been so blessed before.
She leaned her head back against the rough back of her wooden lawn chair and closed her eyes. One of the few Mexican customs that seemed to be observed even in this remote area of Mayan territory was the afternoon siesta. Before coming to the La Paz Compound a few months earlier, Carolyn had always insisted she couldn’t take naps. Now she knew better. With the long hours they kept, overseeing not only the educational aspects of La Paz but the financial and business end of it too, afternoon siestas had become as much of a necessity as they were a luxury. Thankfully, Padre Ramon was with the children during part of the school day, including siesta time, so Carolyn and Frank could have a little time to themselves.
The familiar sounds of chirping and trilling birds, and even an occasional monkey call from the nearby forest, faded into the distance as the warm temperature lulled her to sleep. Her husband had nodded off beside her soon after finishing his lunch of vegetables and fruit. In a place somewhere between waking and dreaming, she called up a portrait of Julia Lawson as a teenager, for that’s when she had first met her. Their recent meeting with Julia nudged her semiconsciousness with the fact that the woman no longer looked the same, as she was decades beyond her teens now, but dreams seldom adhered to such logic. Even at forty-eight Julia was a beautiful woman, though with a veil of sadness marring her smile. Now, in Carolyn’s vision, Julia was young again and appeared to be sitting on a church pew, alone, deep in prayer. Yet Carolyn recognized that the lovely young girl with reddish-blonde locks trailing down her back was agitated. Julia raised her head, and Carolyn saw tears on her makeup-free cheeks. In that moment Carolyn knew Julia was wrestling with God about her future. Carolyn tried to open her mouth to encourage the younger woman to listen to God and follow Him wherever He led her, but no words came out.
And then she heard the cry from somewhere outside her dream, jerking her back to the present. She opened her eyes, a chill passing over her at the recognition of the sound, even though it had already stopped. Carolyn had yet to see one of the rare jaguars the locals swore prowled the surrounding jungles, but she was certain she had heard them on occasion. This seemed to be one of those occasions, though she couldn’t be certain.
She glanced sideways toward her husband. He too was stirring, opening his eyes and sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Did you say something, sweetheart?” he asked, turning to offer her a smile.
“No, nothing.” She smiled back, amused that he would mistake the cry of a wild animal for his wife’s familiar voice. “But I suppose it’s time to get back to the office, isn’t it?”
Frank glanced at his watch and nodded. “It is. As usual we have more things to accomplish than we have time. I’m looking forward to the cavalry arriving soon.”
Julia. The memory of her dream flashed through Carolyn’s mind as she nodded. Yes, having a full-time teacher on the premises was going to take a lot of pressure off them, despite the fact that she wouldn’t be arriving until the first week of September—still more than a month from now—after her two grown children had returned to college. Padre Ramon, who pastored the small La Paz church within the compound, one of the few evangelical churches in the area, was a big help to them on many fronts, but he didn’t really have the time or the expertise to teach in the school, though apparently he had filled in on occasion. Carolyn thought the four of them would make a good team as they moved the mission of La Paz forward to fulfill God’s purposes in the region.
La Paz. She smiled. The Peace. A perfect name for such a little refuge in the middle of such illiteracy and pagan practices. Thank You, Lord, for allowing us to be a part of it.
And with that she rose from her seat to gather the few supplies she would need for the afternoon school session.
JULIA WAS MORE CONCERNED with putting up with all the naysayers over the next few weeks than she was with how much she had to accomplish to be ready to leave by the first week of September. She’d made the arrangements regarding her job, with the blessings of the school administration, which looked favorably on their faculty spending occasional time teaching in other countries, and the rest of the preparation seemed minimal to Julia. But the constant barrage of warnings and even pleadings from her children and parents was getting tiresome.
Now, the first weekend of August, she hoped her family would focus on enjoying their time together at the beach, rather than trying to dissuade her from what she’d already decided and committed to do. Since leaving the San Diego area and movi
ng to Temecula with her parents decades earlier, she’d relished any opportunity to escape to the coast, whether for a few hours or a few days. When her dad suggested they all rent a cottage right on the ocean-front in nearby San Juan Capistrano, she’d heartily agreed. Capistrano was one of her favorite places, full of rich history, delightful secondhand and antique shops, and absolutely delicious cuisine.
They had arrived at the cottage on Friday evening; by Saturday morning Julia was already looking forward to eating at her favorite Mexican restaurant, famous for its delectable offerings and also for the fact that former presidents and other celebrities had made a practice of eating there.
This morning she strolled the beach alone, carrying her flip-flops in one hand as she waded through the gently lapping waves, the water cool but invigorating. Even the weather had cooperated, its usual morning fog already burning off to allow the sun’s warm rays to shine down on her.
I must admit, I’ll miss this down in Mexico for a year. But rain forests have their own beauty too—something I’ve never seen before. Besides, it’s time for me to have a new adventure. Tom would want me do it. . . . Wouldn’t you, Tom?
She frowned at her slight hesitation, but pushed on. Of course you would. You always told me I should enjoy life more—try new things, go new places, meet new people. Well, I’m sure going to be doing that now.
Her heart constricted at the thought of how much nicer and more exciting it would be if she and Tom were going on this adventure together. But they weren’t, and that was that. They would never again go on any sort of adventure together, and she simply had to get used to it. If there was to be any adventure in her life, any joy at all, she was going to have to step out on her own and make it happen.
And so she would. Her family could support her or not, but her mind was made up. In just over a month she would be flying off to teach students English as a second language—though her Spanish was slightly less than fluent—and math and science and any other classes they cared to study. The language issue would be one of many challenges she would encounter, of that she was certain. But it was one the Barneses had assured her she could quickly overcome.
Ignoring a gnawing sense of inadequacy, she turned and began the trek back to the cottage. The rest of the clan should be waking up about now, and her growling stomach told her she was more than ready for some breakfast.
PADRE RAMON WAS BUSY preparing for the Sunday service. Though his little flock scarcely numbered more than twenty-five or thirty, that was an improvement over the ten or fifteen they’d had just six months or so earlier. The mixture of Catholicism and Mayan superstition that prevailed in the area made it difficult for evangelicals—los evangelicos, as the locals called them—to make much headway when preaching the gospel. And it was more than simple apathy or mistrust of strangers. The indigenous people trusted the curanderos, or shamans, to be their spiritual leaders. Evangelicos were considered enemies to the old Mayan ways and were therefore unwelcome.
Still, Ramon felt blessed to pastor the little La Paz congregation, and his church had never been attacked or burned—unlike others that had tried to get established in the area. Because his family lived inside the compound, in a couple of rooms attached to the chapel, he had not been personally threatened.
The memory of Rosa, his wife of fifteen years, brought sudden tears to his eyes, but he blinked them away and continued to spruce up the little sanctuary, dusting and polishing the dozen wooden pews. His beloved Rosa, the mother of his three young children, had been attacked when she ventured too far into the jungle to gather fruit for breakfast. One of the curanderas, a woman who despised evangelicos, led a group of three men into the jungle where she had spotted Rosa. By the time the posse of four returned, Rosa lay dead on the jungle floor. Ramon hadn’t been able to find her for two days. By then her body had been defiled by animals.
Five years had passed since that terrible time, and the tears returned as he walked to the front of the sanctuary to ready the Communion elements. This time he didn’t blink them away but allowed them to drip freely onto his cheeks. It had taken his wife’s death to convince Ramon to move with his children into the compound, where they already attended school. With the help of the couple who then served as directors at La Paz, Ramon had built the little chapel in Rosa’s honor.
“Aye, mi amor,” he cried aloud, “will I ever stop missing you?”
He swiped at the tears with the sleeve of his worn, white shirt. “Ayudame, El Señor,” he whispered, bowing his head. “Help me, God. Help me to trust that Rosa is safe in Your care, and that for now You have purposed me to continue here, serving those who so desperately need to know You. Gracias!”
CHAPTER 4
THE WEEKEND AT THE BEACH had passed far too quickly, though Julia relished every moment, especially those spent with her children. How she ached at the memories their time together stirred up, as she thought back on the many instances over the years when she and Tom had taken their children on outings to the beach. From the time Tyler and Brittney were toddlers they had loved the water, frolicking in the waves and digging in the sand until their parents had to pick them up and carry them home at the end of the day. Not much had changed. As the five of them enjoyed the time together in San Juan Capistrano, Tyler and Brittney had spent more time in the water than anywhere else. Julia and her mother had opted for shopping at the many antique stores lining the streets of the charming seaside town, and John Lawson had devoted himself to naps and reading on the patio.
At least Mom behaved and didn’t spend too much time harassing me about my trip. Julia sighed as she unpacked her suitcase and added her sandy clothes to the huge mound already piled up beside the washer and dryer.
She smiled. Loads of laundry or not, it was wonderful having her children home again, even if only for a few weeks. The thought occurred to her that she hadn’t thought to ask the Barneses about laundry facilities at the compound. Somehow she doubted they had the amenities that most Americans expected, both at home and abroad.
One more challenge to face when I leave next month. She took a deep breath to quell a sudden flutter of anxiety. I’ll be fine. I really will. It’s just a matter of adjusting, that’s all. It’ll be good for me.
She dumped a cup of soap into the already filling washer and began to check pockets as she added the clothes. How many times had she done this for her family over the years? She couldn’t begin to estimate, but she was grateful for each instance, as it represented the love she had for her husband and children.
Tom. I still miss washing your clothes, and setting your place at the dinner table, and . . .
She shook her head. No. This was not the time to get caught up in melancholy again. Right now she needed to concentrate on enjoying her children while they were still home. In addition, she had a few vaccinations to get before she could leave, but at least her passport was current.
She picked up her now empty suitcase to replace it in the hall closet, reminding herself that in a couple of weeks she’d have to retrieve it, as well as a couple more suitcases from the attic, and start packing for her trip.
The Barneses assured me I don’t need to bring anything fancy—just comfortable, functional clothes. But it’s hot and humid in the summer months, cool in the winter. I’ll need to keep that in mind.
“Mom, what’s for dinner?”
Tyler’s voice, calling down to her from upstairs, was so much like his father’s. The reminder of her dead husband jolted her, but she smiled at her son’s never-ending hunger. They’d had a late lunch on the way home from San Juan Capistrano. She glanced at her watch and smiled again.
That was almost three hours ago. Must seem like forever to him.
“Let me see what I can find,” she called back to him. “Just need to finish getting this laundry going.”
She sighed. Once a mom, always a mom. But soon her “little ones” would be back at school and wouldn’t need her to throw together last-minute meals or snacks. So why not fly
off to another country and culture where she could be useful to someone else’s children for a while?
Nodding in agreement with her thoughts, she closed the lid to the washing machine and headed for the kitchen.
THE MONTH FLEW BY, with August heat in full swing. Cookouts were relegated to evening hours, and Julia spent most of her days sitting inside in the air-conditioning. Tyler and Brittney slept in nearly every morning, sometimes not stirring until nearly noon. But Julia didn’t bother them about it. After all, their class schedule would have them up early soon enough.
To their credit, the two young people spent at least some of their time with their mother and grandparents, though Tyler was busy delivering pizzas for extra money whenever he could, and both of them hung out with their high school friends regularly. Julia was relieved that their objections to her plans—as well as her parents’ vocal concerns—had faded. Still, she knew none of them were actually supportive, and they certainly weren’t enthusiastic. But at least it seemed they’d made peace with it.
She had begun to pack even before Tyler and Brittney returned to college. Partially filled suitcases lay open on the couch in the seldom-used living room because the family preferred to gather in the “man-cave” to visit and watch television. Marie had blanched at the sight of the luggage the first time she’d wandered into that room, but she had pressed her lips together in a tight line and said nothing. Julia appreciated her mother’s restraint.
But now it was time to say good-bye to her children as they loaded their belongings into Tyler’s Toyota for the one-hour drive back to campus. It had never seemed so difficult before, because Julia knew then they would be back for Thanksgiving, if not sooner. But this year if they came home for the holidays, it would be to stay with their grandparents. Julia’s heart wrenched with serious self-doubt at the sharp reality that she would not see her children for quite some time. Had she made a terrible mistake?