The Women of Jacob’s Mountain Boxed Set

by Hining, Deborah;

  Priscilla would not go, either, and Dr. Sams declared he would be on the last trip out, but insisted that Dr. Price go. “You have three little children,” he said. “If anything were to happen to you, I don’t want to have to face them, or Jenny. Now get on the plane. You can put these two on your lap.”

  Dr. Price turned to embrace Sally Beth. “I’m so sorry we brought you here,” he said as he held her tightly against him. “Stay right here until John comes back, and I will see you soon. I’ll wait in Bukoba until I know you—all of you—are safe. God bless you, my dear.” Then he squeezed himself into the front seat, a child on each knee.

  When John lifted off again, Sally Beth turned to Lyla and Priscilla, and with the last ounce of her energy, smiled at them brightly. “Any more of that tea left, Lyla? I think there is a little flour still in the pantry, and I bet there’s some honey, too. We might as well make some cookies.” Her voice was light, but inside her heart there was only darkness.

  Since she did not expect John to return that evening, she faced the approaching night feeling alone and hopeless, despite the small crowd of people who had gathered around the kitchen.

  When the sound of his approaching engine drifted in with the gloaming, her suffocated heart awoke with a start and a flutter to the realization that he was here for her. It roused in her a deep yearning that rode red and warm in her blood. Brushing away a thin, frail voice from her past that whispered some nonsense about virtue, she turned her face toward the only thing that gave her hope. Amid all this horror, despite the loss of God’s presence, there was a shard of glory in her love for John Smith: piercing, painful, but irrefutable, and it would not be denied.

  John saw her as the lights bounced into the grass, and he saw the shift in her stance, the purposefulness of her stride as she made her way toward him. A coldness overtook him as he realized that somehow his fate had been sealed against his wishes. He loved Sally Beth, but he was not in love with her, for there was room for only one woman in his heart, and that woman was Geneva. Yet, here Sally Beth stood, waiting for him so resolutely, standing so still, willing him to come to her. He did not know how he could disappoint her.

  She did not run to him, but waited until he stopped the plane, then walked purposefully toward him. They embraced silently, but when she lifted her face, she felt his reluctance. It meant nothing to her. She had nothing but him now, and she would not accept his refusal. Her parents were dead, her best friend Holy Miracle Jones was dead, her sister had disappeared into the bloody maw of war. God had abandoned her. She might never see her home again, but if she had any control over her life at this moment, she was resolved that John would be hers, at least for a little while. She knew it for a fact; she felt it in the marrow of her soul.

  Taking his hand, she led him to the courtyard by the church where they sat on the bench under the orange tree.

  “You know what I want,” she said at last.

  He did not pretend to not know what she meant. When he saw her face, it was full of naked love, of desire. She had lost the ability to conceal the rawness of her feelings.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t patronize. This is no time for philosophy.”

  “I mean, you are worn out, things are out of control. How will you feel later?”

  “Is there a later?”

  “Of course there is. It may not be what we want, but it will come. Have you asked God about this?”

  She gave a short laugh. “Oh, I know what God would say, but He isn’t speaking to me right now.” She was left to find her own comfort.

  “I have to listen to my own heart. God doesn’t know what it is like to be a child who has never seen anything but peace and the love of everyone around her, and then, overnight, to be thrown into a world of absolute evil. To be a woman who has spent her life believing that sex is a sacred pleasure between a man and a woman, a husband and wife, and then to see firsthand what men who are full of hate will do. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be a virgin and see what men have done to innocent girls, to wonder if she will ever be loved by a man who will be gentle with her, to make her feel beautiful and cherished. You may not love me, but I was hoping you could pretend.” She did not cry, but the sadness in her voice ripped at his heart.

  “I cannot pretend, Sally Beth. It wouldn’t be right. Not to you, not to me.”

  “But you can at least be gentle.”

  He let the words sink in. Sitting in the dark, holding her hand, he smelled the oranges in the tree above them and the smoke and grime on his own skin, the fear and traces of blood on hers. He could not refuse her, so open, so trusting, so hopeful that they could create something good amid this horror, but this was not the time. He was too tired. He did not want this—to see the rawness of her pain or her feeling for him, to try to pretend to love her when he knew he could only hurt her and ultimately increase her despair. If he were to make love to her, the least he could do would be to make it as beautiful for her as possible, and right now, so little of him was available, so little was possible.

  “I would do you no good tonight,” he said, his voice heavy with regret and fatigue. “Can we wait until tomorrow?”

  She thought about it. She did not want to let go of the heat of his hand. She had held too many cold and dying hands in the past few days. She needed his wholesome blood to put some warmth into her own veins. “Will you sit with me awhile here tonight?”

  “I will stay with you all night. Wait here. I’ll go get blankets.”

  She was leaning against the trunk of the tree when he returned with blankets and even a pillow, and she helped him to spread them out on the ground, pushing aside the fallen oranges to make their bed smooth. Then they both lay down, he put his arms around her, and she laid her head on his chest, her arm holding him tightly.

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  He hugged her closer. Peace settled over them, and before she remembered that God had forsaken her, she prayed for the safety of her sister. In the empty stillness afterward, she thought she might have heard His voice whispering gently, I know, my beloved. I know.

  Eighteen

  October 31, 1978

  John awoke to an empty space beside him and the sun in his eyes. He sat up, rubbed the grime around on his face, and got up, rolling up the blankets and pillow before he made his way to the clinic. Sally Beth was there, alone. She was clean and in a fresh dress. Her newly washed hair shimmered on her shoulders. The look she gave him was one of pure delight.

  He did not know how to respond. He had made a promise to her last night that he was not sure she wanted him to keep. “Good morning,” he said, running his hand through his sooty hair. “You left me.”

  “I was feeling nasty.” She stopped, a startled look on her face. “Literally. I needed a bath.” She did not want him to think she had felt sullied by her desire for him. She started again. This was no time to be coy, so she faced him directly. “I still want you.”

  He saw how hard it was for her to speak so frankly, so he merely nodded as he studied the floor. “I need to go see if I can get everybody else out today. Red and Dr. Sams are the last Americans, besides us, and there’s Falla and Jenna, the pastor and Lyla, Prissy, and some others, all African. I don’t want them left here once the Ugandans know the Americans are gone. What do you want to do? Are you still going to wait for Lilly?”

  She nodded. “Try to talk Pastor Umbatu and Lyla into going, and Priscilla.”

  “If they go, it will just be you and me here tonight.”

  “I’ve thought about that. It’s not right asking you to stay, so I’m releasing you from your promise. If something happens to you because you stayed with me, it would be worse than if something happens to Lilly. I’ll be okay. They are leaving the mission alone, so I’ll be safe here. I’m hoping Alethia’s place is still standing. It’s way off the main road, so maybe it is. Will you fly over it on your first trip out and let me know? If it is, I can go get some food from her pantry. Ther
e’s not much left here.”

  He nodded again. The thought of leaving her here alone was an impossibility. “I’ll stay,” he said, “as long as you do,” then he pushed off the doorframe, battling the thoughts that flung themselves around like live grenades inside his head. He could think of nothing but the promise he had made to her and why she had asked it of him: not the war, not his own possible death, but only of how he had seen her disintegrate before his eyes and how much she needed him to be something beyond what he could be. This war had robbed her of the God she knew, and in her loss, she needed him to step into His place and give her fragile heart something to beat for.

  What was he to do? He was cursed if he did, cursed if he didn’t, cursed by his own heart and by this lovely woman who trusted him not to hurt her, but was already so hurt she could be slain by a mere breath, a single word. He tried to ignore his twisting gut as he finally caved into the inevitable. He would have to go through with this, and he would do it right for Sally Beth’s sake, even though he knew in his very marrow that this night could destroy at least one of them.

  “I’ll stay,” he repeated. “And I’ll love you as best I can.” His heart lightened at the radiance of her face.

  Alethia’s house was still standing. It was tucked up under some trees on the edge of a forest, which kept it partially hidden from the air. The meadow beside it basking in the open would serve as a landing field. He wondered what would happen if his plane was seen on the ground outside the protection of the mission, then sighed with resignation. It didn’t matter. He and Sally Beth both could be dead by morning, but there was nothing he could do about that.

  He flew back and forth all morning, taking people to the Bukoba airport, dropping them off, returning as quickly as he could to gather more. By noon, only seventeen remained: that meant five or six more trips before the mission would be completely abandoned. Besides Sally Beth, there was Dr. Sams, who had begged her to go, then declared he would not leave until she did, Jenna and Falla, Red, Pastor Umbatu and Lyla, Priscilla, and nine other Africans who had come only this morning seeking refuge. They all pleaded with Priscilla to go on the next trip, but she stood before them defiantly, her head up, looking much older than her fourteen years.

  “I will stay with Sally Beth and Lyla,” she declared. “I know this land, and I can get them away from here if I need to. I am not a helpless, uninformed child. I am Ugandan, and I have known war, war much worse than this.”

  At this speech, Sally Beth nearly broke her resolve to wait for Lilly, but she could not give up hope that her sister was still alive, and she could not leave as long as the ember of that hope still glowed. She put her arms around Priscilla.

  Pastor Umbatu was resolved to stay with his church until the last in case more refugees came seeking shelter. Lyla said, “You are all I have left in this world. I will stay by your side until death takes us.” Then she turned to Sally Beth. “Sally Beth, I understand that you have the qualifications to marry two people. I love this man, and I want to be his wife. James Umbatu,” she said, “I don’t want to wait another six weeks. Will you become my husband now?”

  He threw his head back and laughed a booming, joyful sound that sent a startle through the soft, rainy afternoon. “Will I be your husband? Lyla, you are a treasure above rubies!” He turned his beaming face to Sally Beth. “Sally Beth, will you honor us with the sacrament?”

  Everyone laughed. Sally Beth knew she was not legally privileged to perform the marriage ceremony, as she knew that her heart was not deserving to perform a holy sacrament in the name of God, but at such times, what did it matter? To spread joy and love in the face of death was an honor, an exultation of the soul. She hurried to her room to find her best dress for Lyla to wear, feeling happiness warming her and filling her with strength. There would be a wedding! Sally Beth grew giddy with the thought of it.

  With one voice, everyone insisted on staying to see the ceremony. “We don’t all have to leave today,” declared Red. Nothing will happen tonight, and John is probably worn out from all this flying and trying to keep things from falling apart at the ranch. Let’s have a party this afternoon. Let’s celebrate life. And love.”

  An hour later, Red stood in the hushed sanctuary beside Pastor Umbatu, and Falla stood beside Lyla. All the women wore flowers in their hair. Priscilla served as flower girl, walking slowly down the aisle, spreading the fragrant petals of the white lilies that grew in the meadow. Jenna played the piano, and Sally Beth’s heart swelled when she pronounced the two husband and wife.

  Afterwards, Pastor Umbatu bowed graciously and spoke in his beautiful, resonate voice. “My wife and I would like to invite you to a wedding luncheon, although I fear that you will have to help us prepare it. Please come and enjoy the best of what we have to offer. We even have a few bottles of sacrament wine. I’m sure the Lord will not mind if we drink it, if we do it in His honor.”

  Taking Lyla’s arm, he led everyone to the kitchen where they ransacked the pantry for yams, flour, and canned beef. Several people went outside to gather fruit from the trees in the courtyard, and within an hour, the tables were spread with a modest feast. Lyla and Pastor Umbatu stood at the head, the smiles on their faces beaming peace and joy.

  Sally Beth reveled in their happiness, even as her own heart pained. The newlyweds had each other, and everyone except her had family, someone waiting to welcome them home. Lilly, the only remainder of her immediate family, was gone, perhaps dead, and except for the hope that lay in John, she was utterly alone. Glancing at him to search for a glimmer of something, anything that he might feel for her, she saw that his face was a mask of grief, and she felt lonelier still. Would there never be a place for her in his heart? Would she die in this place, in the midst of horror and violence without knowing what it was like to be loved?

  Oh Lord, why have You deserted me?

  They had just finished the blessing when a horn blared at the gates. Rushing out, they saw a jeep, driven by a uniformed soldier, and Lilly and Phil in the back seat. Both were filthy and sunburned but robust and healthy. Lilly jumped out and ran to her sister.

  Sally Beth felt joy surge through her. Lilly alive! Lilly running to her! She caught her sister, sobbing and hugging her until neither of them could take another breath.

  “Sally Beth, you’re still here. Oh, I’m so sorry! We’ve been trying to get back for days, but we had to stay off the main road because of the mines, and we had to hide from the Ugandans.” She turned to the driver. “This is Samuel. He risked his life to bring us here, when he could have been safe up at Kakoma. But I knew you wouldn’t leave here until we came back, and I begged them to bring us.”

  Samuel shrugged. “The Lakwena gave me leave to come. Who am I to question the mind of the Spirit?”

  Sally Beth grasped his hand, speechless with gratitude. “Come and eat,” she urged him, and when he demurred, she pulled his hand hard. “You must eat. We are celebrating a wedding.”

  They all sat down to eat. Before she took her first bite, Lilly exclaimed, “Sally Beth, this has been the most incredible week of my life! Wait until you hear what’s been going on.” She picked up her glass of wine and held it up. “To the newlyweds!” she declared. “And to life!” But she did not drink. She set the glass down and reached for a glass of water.

  Lilly and Phil stuffed themselves as if they had not eaten for weeks. Between mouthfuls, they managed to spin out the story of their adventures for the last six days.

  “You won’t believe where we’ve been. Up in Uganda, with an army of civilians, soldiers, women, children, all mixed together, all under the leadership of Alice Auma, although they’re calling her Alice Lakwena, because she is the medium for a spirit named Lakwena who guides them. She’s like a modern Joan of Arc—she’s only twenty-two, but all these people are following her orders and going into battle, and doing exactly what she tells them to. But they say they aren’t fighting Amin’s army; they say they are fighting evil; they are fighting a war again
st war, and they are doing it with God’s guidance. Well, they say they are guided by Holy Spirits. Lakwena is one of them.

  “Really,” continued Lilly. “They are the most orderly, most loving, kindest people. They don’t even want to kill—they just want to live in peace and in harmony with all men and with nature, too. They treat the land with reverence, they won’t even cross a river without asking permission from it, and they throw coins and cowrie shells in and, in the most respectful voices, ask to ‘purchase the right’ to cross.”

  “But do they fight? How do they fight evil? Do they use guns?”

  “Yeah, they do, but they don’t point them at anybody. They aren’t even allowed to try to kill anyone. They just wait until Lakwena tells them to shoot, and the Sprits direct the bullets to where they want them to go. If any of the enemy are killed, it’s the Spirits that kill them, not the soldiers. They go into battle singing hymns, without their shirts on, or shoes, without any kind of armor, except they’re anointed with Shea butter, ochre, and holy water. That’s supposed to make them bullet proof.”

  “That’s crazy,” said John. “It seems like they would be mowed down.”

  “I know!” answered Lilly. “But the Ugandans are terrified when they even hear them coming. They run from them as if they see swarms of angels, or demons coming at them, singing and blowing horns, like when Gideon’s army trounced the Midianites without any weapons. Soldiers just throw down their weapons and run! The Holy Spirits are wreaking havoc on Amin’s forces.”

  “Have you seen this in person?” John asked.

  “Yeah, once. Only the Lakwena determines who is allowed to go, and he permitted us, but we had to be purified. Just to be with them, we had to go through a long process to be declared righteous. You can’t smoke or drink or fornicate—anybody caught committing adultery is whipped and banished—and you have to follow the orders of the Lakwena exactly. Do you remember when Alice came in after the whipping? Well, the Lakwena ordered that whipping, and the orders came out of her mouth! It’s like she has nothing to do with what the spirit wants. Nobody does, and you’d better obey because once the Lakwena speaks, there’s no getting around it.