The mist rising from the lake was so dense it nearly hid the sunrise as Ben loaded his few possessions into the back of Moriah’s truck.
“I guess that about does it.” He swung into the passenger side.
“I guess.”
He rolled down the window and hung his elbow out. “Do we have time to drive out to the lighthouse before we go? I’d like to see it one more time. With you.”
Moriah swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Sure.”
As they drove out the road that Jack had built, the limestone tower rose ghost-like before them, silvery in the mist.
“We did a good job together,” she said.
“You'll do a good job without me.” He turned toward her and laid his arm along the seat behind her. “Don't let the crew slack off just because I'm not here.”
“Slack off?” she scoffed. “I'll make them work harder.”
Ben tweaked her ponytail. “Right. You’re such a slave driver. Keep Jack on the straight and narrow, too. Okay?”
“He had better stay on the straight and narrow. Alicia is pregnant again.”
“Lucky man.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, I think so. I can't think of anything I'd like more than you and a houseful of kids.”
Moriah's throat constricted at the thought of being apart from this man for so long. “Will you be able to write to me?”
“Communication in the jungle is difficult. I can't promise much.”
Moriah wiped away a renegade tear. She would not cry and make leaving more difficult for him.
“Have you heard from the guy we took the desk to, yet?” Ben said. “It won’t be long before you’ll be completely finished and can install that.”
“No. He’s really good and stays pretty backed up. When I took it to him, he said it might take a couple of months to get around to it.”
The old desk held little interest to her, right now. It probably held little interest to Ben, as well. He was just trying to make conversation, trying to make this easier for her. Nothing could make this easier for her.
“We have to go if you’re going to make it to the Chi-Cheemaun on time,” she said. “You’ll enjoy riding in it. Most people do.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He caressed the back of her neck. It was a small gesture, but she cherished it.
As they drove to the dock, Ben, for once, wasn’t talkative. He seemed preoccupied and distracted, as though he were already winging his way to the Amazon. She wanted to hear his voice, so she nervously asked questions she already knew the answer to.
“Did you get everything?”
“Yes. I didn't have that much to pack.”
“Do you have enough money? There’s an ATM at the ferry, and I have extra in my account.”
“Nicolas paid me before he left.”
“Do you need to grab anything at the store? Snacks? Magazines?”
“No.”
She gave up and drove.
When they arrived, there was a long line of cars waiting to board. Moriah could see the ones in front driving over the huge gangplank and being swallowed up by the giant boat. She gave a slight shiver.
“Don't get stuck in that line, Moriah; pull over and I'll walk the rest of the way.”
Moriah obediently pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the truck as Ben lifted out his bags. She reached to help, but he shook his head.
“I’ve got to carry them on board, anyway.”
She watched him shouldering his bags. He seemed so distracted and preoccupied, she wondered if he would even remember to kiss her good-bye.
“Ben?” she said in a small voice. “You will come back, won't you? Someday?”
He didn't answer; he just gazed at the huge ferry. Then, he removed a canvas bag from his shoulder and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Two dozen notebooks with the first twenty-three books of the New Testament translated into Yahnowa. Five years of my life. I planned to find a copier machine before I left, but everything snowballed, and I never did. Will you find one and mail the copies to me? Nicolas can tell you how to send them.”
“You're going to trust me with them?”
“You're the only person in the world that I would trust with such a task. They'll probably be safer with you than with me.”
“I'll take good care of them. You’re right. There needs to be copies.” Her voice was solemn, but her heart was a little lighter. She now knew absolutely that he would come back. He had entrusted his life’s work to her, and she would protect it with her own.
There were people milling about them now, and she knew there would be no last, passionate embrace.
“I love you.” He briefly brushed her lips with his. “Promise me you’ll wait for me.”
“I’ll wait for you the rest of my life.”
Ben smiled. “Let’s pray it doesn’t take that long.”
One more kiss and he strode away. His broad shoulders easily carried the heavy bags.
She clutched the bag of notebooks to her chest for comfort.
He turned and called back, “If anything happens to me, give those to Nicolas. He’ll know what to do.” Then he waved and disappeared into the maw of the ferry.
If something happened to him? What a terrible thought! Nothing could happen to him. He had to come back here to her.
She ran then, to the edge of the island, watching the giant ferry, hungry for one last glimpse of him.
It seemed to take forever, but as the ferry pulled away from the dock, Ben reappeared on deck. Their eyes locked. She waved with one hand, clutching the canvas bag with the other. Ben waved back, then fisted his right hand and brought it to his heart.
Moriah did the same in reply. She knew what the gesture meant. Ben would come back to her, even if it took years. He had promised. And she would wait for him, even if it took years. She had promised. She had faith that, someday, a preacher would hear their vows. Someday, they would sign a marriage certificate and become man and wife. But a lasting covenant was being made, an oath taken, in that silent gesture they held until she could no longer see him because of the distance and the tears.
She grasped the rusted metal of the guardrail and strained to see. Rain began to fall, creating a gauzy curtain between her and the ferry, which now dipped beneath the horizon. The only thing separating her and Ben was wind and rain.
The panic began to set in as he disappeared. What if this was the last time she saw him? What if something bad did happen to him?
She could hire a speedboat to take her out to the ferry. She could hire a small plane to take her to the airport in Toronto where he was first headed. She could…she could…
She didn’t even own a passport.
The only thing separating her from Ben was her own weakness and fear.
As the people around her ran for shelter, Moriah was in so much emotional pain, she fell to her knees and curled herself over the bag that held Ben’s notebooks, shielding them from the rain.
As the rain beat against her body, she pounded the earth with her fist. “I can fix anything, Lord,” she sobbed. “You know I can fix anything—but I can’t fix me. I’m broken, and I can’t fix me. I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t fix me!”