Where Tomorrow Leads

by DiAnn Mills

  The silence between him and Bishop Malou was strangely deafening. He’d spilled his guts like a kid caught stealing sweets, and now guilt consumed him.

  “All I can say is the Bible has the answers to all of our problems. I hesitate to give you such a pat response because too many people say the same thing. They don’t have any idea how to help, and I’m not so sure I am any better. But I will pray for your peace and for answers to your questions. I will search the Scriptures for those passages I believe will help.” He swung a glance at Paul. “Do you want to know what I do see?”

  “I’m not sure. You’re as blunt as your father.”

  Bishop Malou laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It will probably make me mad, but go ahead.”

  “I see a man who is struggling to be godly, but his past keeps getting in the way. He wants to do it all, and the job had better be done right, or he’s upset. Right now you view your life as worthless because it’s moving in a direction you didn’t anticipate. But God has it all under His control. Take the time to renew your relationship with Him, and then you’ll hear His voice.”

  Paul winced. “Are you saying I’m trying to play God?”

  “I don’t know. Are you?”

  The implication of the bishop’s question angered him. “I can’t expect God to take on Paul Farid as His pet project.”

  “Why not? Because of who you once were?”

  Paul clenched his fists and stared out of the open truck window. The landscape swept by him. A flock of birds rose into a cloudy sky. A giraffe nibbled at the leaves of a treetop and stared at the intruders. To the left of them, a few zebras grazed, mixing with the comical warthogs and a single male impala. Up ahead, vultures picked at a carcass of something.

  Who was he, anyway? What made him think he had any right to help the same people he’d persecuted? What gave him the right to expect God to answer his questions?

  CHAPTER 24

  Larson expected Paul and Bishop Malou long before the noon hour. Her husband hadn’t called for the last two hours, and the memory of their conversations yesterday haunted her. She wanted to see him and look deep into his eyes. The windows of the soul. Paul needed release from trying to save the world. She’d detected the anger that was eating at him like a parasite, growing until it threatened to destroy his faith. In the wee hours of the morning—when she should have been trying to sleep, since Ben had given her the tent—she’d thought of Paul and how much she loved him. How could she make him see Jesus had faced ridicule and persecution because He loved those who were lost and hurting? She and Paul could do no less. She wanted to tell him what rested in her heart, but she was afraid, afraid to stay in Sudan and afraid to leave.

  Larson heard the sound first, the rumbling of a truck without a muffler. She scooted herself back from the small table in Ben’s tent.

  “Daddy’s here,” she said to Thomas and lifted him from his carrier. The rains had diminished for now. Perhaps she’d see a rainbow, a sign from God that she and her husband might find peace in their souls.

  She sought his eyes, the dark pools of love and anguish—the dark pools that held too much of a burden. If not for Ben and his men watching, she’d have run to Paul, seeking the comfort of her man’s arms. Instead, her heart hastened and her legs carried her onward.

  He smiled and pulled her into his embrace. She gazed into his eyes and saw what she feared the most.

  “Let’s go home, my habibti,” he said. “Some days I sense I will never see you again.”

  * * *

  Two days later, Ben came to a decision. He needed to see the doctor in Nairobi. He’d planned to make an appointment when he took Daruka and David there in August, but John Garang’s death had halted those plans. The aggressiveness of the cancer had stepped up the pain, and the medication no longer managed it. Perhaps Larson could help him, but that meant telling her the truth. The last thing he needed was pity, especially after his admittance of love for her the other night. If this was how his life measured out, then he’d rather die now.

  He found it increasingly difficult to go through the motions of living. Daruka no longer questioned him about his failing health, even when he couldn’t eat and his face was pinched with pain. She must have talked to David about it, because he didn’t speak of it either. Ben hadn’t seen his wife or his son for the past three days. Muti’s escape had garnered all of his extra time, and the man still evaded them.

  Before dawn, he bit back the agony and stumbled from his tent to talk to Commander Okuk. The man would need to be in charge while Ben made his way to see his family and then while he was in Nairobi. All traces of Muti had disappeared, but that didn’t mean any of the Rhino Battalion had given up.

  Ben needed to tell his country’s leaders something about his absence. But first he had to tell Paul the truth. The thought of confessing the cancer to a man he’d once hated scraped at his stubborn pride, but he had no choice. Time was running out, and the fervent pain weakened him, almost hour by hour.

  Once he’d made arrangements with Okuk, Ben took one of the trucks and headed for Yar. With his life teetering on the edge, he needed to spend a day with his family. His family. All that those two words represented sounded good to him, for however brief the time. Soon he’d have to tell them about his health, but not until he had talked to the doctor. Maybe a new drug had been invented that would make all of this torment vanish.

  With the sun moving up from the east, he decided not to put off the call to Paul any longer. He inhaled deeply and roused the courage to acknowledge what he could not change.

  “Good morning. How is everyone in Warkou?”

  Paul chuckled. “I hope this means you’ve found Muti.”

  “Not yet. But we have a few leads from one of the moles in Yar.”

  “Anything I should know about?”

  “Not sure. Two of my men are holding the prisoners in the village. I plan to do some questioning of my own while I’m there. One of them has a family, and I intend to do my finest work.”

  “You already know how I feel about killing family members to extract information.”

  “This is war, my friend. What if there is another plan to abduct Larson?” When Paul didn’t answer, Ben changed the topic of conversation. “Is Santino doing his job?”

  “I think Larson would adopt him along with Thomas. He’s a good man.”

  “I agree,” Ben said. “Imagine that. You and I agree on something.”

  “A real miracle, my friend. If Santino intended to be around longer, I’d have him investigate a problem. I wish I knew who had given my phone number to Muti and Nizam. It makes me angry, apprehensive.”

  “Makes me wonder if one of my men has sold us out. Whoever the traitor is has done a good job of keeping his cover. I’m looking forward to slitting his and Muti’s throats. Have you heard from your brother?”

  “No. I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

  Ben considered backing out of his real reason for the call, but a struggle for life also meant casting aside his pride. “I need a favor.”

  “You know I’ll do whatever I can for you.”

  “First of all, I need your word that you’ll not tell Larson any of what I’m about to say.”

  “I suppose. I don’t like keeping things from her.”

  “There’s a good reason.”

  “All right. What do you need?”

  “A ride to the Nairobi hospital. When I was there for the bullet wound, the doctors found something else.” Ben hesitated. “Cancer. It’s in my back. They gave me around six months.”

  Paul gasped.

  Ben hated this. “Say something, will you?”

  “I’m really sor—”

  “No.” Ben cursed. “I don’t want to hear all that. I need to see the doctor. The pain medicine is not strong enough.”

  “When do you want to go?”

  “I’m heading to see Daruka and David, and then I’ll drive on to Warkou. Say two
days.”

  “Do they know?”

  “No one but you.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep it to myself. But sooner or later you’ll have to tell everyone. Larson and I were planning a trip to Nairobi too, but I’ll find an excuse to put ours off for a few days.”

  “I appreciate this.”

  “Did the doctors recommend any treatment?”

  “The typical chemo and radiation. I said no thanks. I’ll talk to you once I’m heading your way. Remember, if you value our friendship, no one is to learn about this.”

  “I understand.”

  Ben laid the phone on the seat. Had he entrusted too much information to Paul when his friend already carried the burden of his family’s seeking to kill him?

  * * *

  Larson stared at the blank screen on the computer in hope that the words would come to send an email to her parents. Paul had stepped outside the clinic with his phone, and she guessed it was Ben from what she’d heard of the conversation. She hadn’t been able to deal with Ben’s confession the other night, and she still couldn’t figure out how to tell Paul. The idea of keeping it to herself had crossed her mind, but that was wrong. She felt guilty, as though she’d betrayed Paul’s love.

  I haven’t done anything wrong. I simply listened to Ben say how he felt.

  Santino had arrived shortly after they had the other night. He and Paul had talked for over two hours about Muti’s escape. She’d supplied food and coffee and tried to listen, but sleep had dulled her senses.

  “What’s wrong?” Santino sorted the latest paperwork from FTW and filed it into a drawer for Paul. “You’re crying.”

  She hadn’t been aware of the tears. But there they were, dripping down her cheeks and over her lips. She licked the saltiness and reached for a tissue, one of the few treasures of civilization that she kept in the clinic.

  “Bad news?” Santino said.

  “I’m fine.” She blew her nose. “I don’t ever cry. No time for it.”

  “Is Paul in trouble?”

  “He will be if I don’t make life easier for him.”

  “How can I help?” Santino walked across the room and bent down beside her.

  She glanced into his young face. “I’m being a woman. I’m tired and worried about Paul, Muti’s escape, and a whole lot of other things that I can’t talk about. Paul is so concerned about my safety, and I fear he won’t take the necessary precautions to protect himself.”

  “He loves you and wants to make sure you’re safe.”

  She nodded. “I can’t have him stressed because of me. I’m afraid for him.” She attempted a faint smile. “I’m afraid for me.”

  He smiled. “But I’m your bodyguard, remember? And today you have both of us. As far as Muti is concerned, let him try something. I’m ready to fill that jackal full of holes.”

  “You don’t think I should leave Sudan?”

  “Not at all. Your skill is needed here. Without you, many will suffer and die.”

  Maybe Santino was right. “When do you leave for school?”

  “A few weeks, but I’m sure Colonel Alier would supply as many soldiers as you need. Besides, Muti will be found before he can cause any trouble.”

  “I wish I could be sure.”

  “Trust me, Dr. Farid. All the problems you are having will end by the time I leave for school. The peace treaty is intact, and the leaders of southern Sudan are working with the government.”

  “I trust God.” She took a deep breath. Her stomach twisted with unsettling emotions.

  “I know you do, just like Paul, Aunt Sarah, and many others.” His words were soft, caring. “So trust your God for your safety and for those you love.”

  She studied him. “You will be a great asset for Sudan. I’m not sure what you believe, but I pray God touches your heart very soon.”

  He laughed. “With all of you praying for me, how can I resist?”

  Larson nodded and blinked back the tears. A young mother with two children entered the clinic. Larson had a job to do, and fretting over her husband wasn’t part of it. But she wanted his arms around her, and their world free from those who wanted them dead.

  Was that so wrong?

  Long after sundown that night, Larson sat with Paul outside their tukul with a lit torch between them. The mosquitoes were worse than usual, but she and Paul kept themselves sprayed with repellent. She didn’t want to think of what the stuff did to their lungs.

  They weren’t talking. Not that she considered exchanging words the only means of communication. Paul was miserable. She felt it and didn’t have a solution.

  “We have a saying back in the States that fits us tonight,” she said.

  He smiled but didn’t look her way. “I’m ready.”

  “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the living room or continue to ignore it?”

  “I can’t carry out the beast. It’s too heavy.”

  She fought for words. What he didn’t say meant more than what he did say. “We can’t go on pretending it isn’t there, either.”

  With his gaze fixed upon the darkness, he sighed deeply. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Paul, you’re depressed, and I don’t know how to help you. Life hasn’t been good for us lately. I’m willing to move to wherever you want. I was serious about that.”

  “I have to fly Ben to Nairobi in a few days.”

  “Can Thomas and I come with you, or do you have work to do?” He was close enough to touch, but she hesitated.

  “Ben has some people to see. He’s not sure how long it will take.” He turned to look at her. “I love you. I’d do anything to protect you and Thomas.”

  Her eyes moistened. “And I love you. I want to see you laugh and enjoy our life, but all I can do is pray.”

  “My upbringing keeps getting in the way of how I should think and what I should do as a Christian. My Arabic culture isn’t something I can easily toss aside.”

  “And I wouldn’t ask you to ignore your heritage. You should be proud of who you are.”

  “Not everything, Larson. I’m confused about my feelings toward my family in Khartoum. A voice inside keeps telling me I deserve to die because I deserted them. Then I realize that’s the voice of the evil one and not of God. I can’t figure out Nizam or Muti or what they’re trying to accomplish. I’ve always prided myself on being a smart man, but this is a tough one. If Muti is working with Nizam, then why doesn’t my brother show up here, and we battle it out? Or is the situation two separate issues? I feel like I’m a missing piece in a puzzle. And with all our problems, I can’t help but think God is punishing me for once believing in Allah. For some reason, God has forsaken me. Why else is He silent?”

  She reached for his hand. “I hope you know those ugly thoughts are lies. You belong to God. He loves you. He may be quiet, but you are in His heart.”

  “I believe it. Then I don’t. One minute I want to step into Khartoum and knock on my father’s door to tell everyone in his house about Jesus, and the next minute I want to hide because I’m afraid to die.”

  “We’re all afraid to die at the hands of those who want us dead.”

  “But I’m a Christian. I should be ready to step over the line for Him.”

  “You’re supposed to be willing, but you don’t have to step barefoot into a snake pit.”

  He reached over and kissed her cheek. “So we’re back to the martyr’s syndrome?”

  “Possibly. Only you know the answer to that.”

  Together they listened to the insects and stared into a night as black as the fear that stalked them.

  “And Nizam?” Larson said. “What do you want to do about him?”

  He squeezed her hand. “I love my brother.”

  “All I ask is for you to meet him where it’s safe.”

  “You understand I have to do this.”

  “I do, even though I remember begging you not to see him.” She hesitated. “I have a request. When you are in Nairobi, will yo
u take the time to search out a home for us?”

  “I can, and then we’ll fly back there to choose the perfect one—if God is leading us to do so.” He stood from the plastic chair and pulled her to her feet. “And you need a doctor for our baby.”

  And our children need a father.

  CHAPTER 25

  Ben drove into Yar in the late afternoon. Tired and hurting, he wanted only to crawl onto a pallet and sleep. But he had a part to play—a husband and father. How long could he continue at this pace? His clothes hung on him as though he were an emaciated refugee from a missionary magazine, and his once-ravenous appetite had vanished with his extra flesh. He found Okuk studying him as if he’d had a private consultation with Ben’s doctor. And Daruka and David had to see the difference. Maybe he should tell them all and be done with it. But he couldn’t. That would mean admitting defeat, and Colonial Ben Alier never backed down from a fight. Even when he saw the odds were against him.

  He opened the truck door but couldn’t muster the strength to step out. Instead, he sat inside and took a few deep breaths before making his way to Daruka and David. Before he went to bed, he’d visit the prisoners. A slim figure made its way toward him. Daruka. He didn’t deserve her. A searing pain torched his back and momentarily paralyzed him. Leave me alone. Not now. She needs me.

  Ben smiled at his own revelation. He did care for Daruka. He was her hero, and he refused to disappoint her. He swallowed hard.

  “You can’t sneak up on me.” She laughed. “I could hear the door squeak from the next village.”

  “That’s so you’ll have food ready for me.”

  She laughed again and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I missed you.”

  “And what did you miss about me?”

  She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly. “Everything, of course.”

  “You crazy woman.” He kissed her, and she tasted sweet. Before cancer, he’d have picked her up and carried her into the tukul. But those days were nothing but memories. Would she forgive him once he was gone?