Chapter 5

monday, november 16, 10:15 p.m. backyard of natalie’s house, kasili

Chad pushed his foot against the hard ground and let the swing sway gently back and then forward. Twelve hours ago he would never have imagined himself relaxing beneath the night sky. After two months of intense work at the clinic with little time off and no social life, the distraction was good. The company even better. And the second helping of chocolate cake wasn’t too bad either.

He took another bite of the sweet dessert and savored the flavor. The food the clinic served could never compare to this.

But that didn’t change the fact that Natalie was putting herself in the middle of something that could turn out to be extremely dangerous. Government coups and rigged elections weren’t something to get involved in.

He wasn’t ready to tackle that subject. Not yet, anyway.

“Why Africa?” he began. “From the looks of things you could have about any job you wanted.”

Natalie laughed. “So why some hole-in-the-wall city like Kasili, Dhambizao?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it too cliché to say I wanted to make a difference in the world?

He took a sip of his coffee. “I suppose I could say the same. There’s something about working here that helps make up for at least some of the problems in this world.”

“Which is why I can’t forget the look on Joseph’s face when he told me about his family.”

He toyed with a bit of cake. Maybe he was really no different than she. He hadn’t been able to forget the faces he’d known growing up here.

“So why did you come back to the RD? Everyone heard how you and your family escaped during the last election. It must have been terrifying.”

He scraped a glob of frosting from the plate, then licked his fork. “I’ve asked myself that very question a time or two since returning here. I had nightmares the first few days as memories from the coup flooded back. I still jump every time a taxi backfires.”

Thinking about it, Chad flinched. He could still hear the gunfire that had echoed around them the day of the coup. Women screaming as they ran through the streets with their children. Safety had seemed elusive. But, somehow, they’d made it out alive.

He pushed aside the losses of that day and focused instead on Natalie’s question. “They need me here. I speak the local language, which gives me an advantage above other volunteers. But mainly I came for the same reason as every other person who hops on a plane to take part in some grand humanitarian mission.”

“Do you think we really do?”

“Make a difference?”

She nodded and even in the shadows of the backyard, he caught the sadness in her expression.

Chad combed his fingers through his hair wishing he could avoid the question. But it was one he knew they both had to deal with everyday. “Tonight I lost a patient. Her name was Hanna, and she was twenty-four years old. She was the only sibling still alive out of one brother and two sisters, and she had three small children of her own. She gave birth to a baby in a mud hut twenty miles from here. A traditional midwife did what she could, but with no sterile instruments tetanus set in. In the end it killed both her and her baby.”

“I deal with preventing death, so I don’t have to face it too often.” She brushed back a wisp of hair and furrowed her brow. “I can’t imagine seeing all the suffering you do.”

Chad gnawed on his lower lip. Her insight was legitimate. As a doctor, he’d learned to remove himself emotionally from the situation in order to deal with the grim realities of life and death, but even that ability didn’t completely numb him. Losing someone always hurt, just like saving someone always strengthened his determination to stay in the game.

He reached down to set his empty plate and fork on the ground beside him, surprised at how talking about the young woman helped ease the sorry he felt over her death. “I have another patient named Malaika. She gave birth two days ago at the clinic. She would have bled to death in the village, but we were able to save her. I’ll never get over losing a patient, but every one I save helps to remind me that it’s worth the risk. And that, I suppose, makes it worth being here.”

Natalie ran her index finger around the rim of her mug. “How long did you commit to stay?”

“Six months. How about you?”

“Two years.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes intense. “Do you ever question where God is in all of this?”

“Yeah.” He’d asked God that very question tonight when the nurse told him Hanna was gone. “I never could understand my father. He was an optimist who could look beyond the situation and see God’s greater work. All he ever tried to do was serve God by helping one person at a time. I’ve always wanted to be like him.”

“Not a bad philosophy. But what about you? Where do you see God in all of this?”

“Truthfully? Sometimes I’m not sure what role God plays.” His frankness surprised even himself. “I told you I wasn’t cynical, but maybe I am.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She stretched out her legs. “I’m sorry to have gotten so serious, but it helps to be able to talk with someone who understands. I know God wants me here, but sometimes the burden of what I have to deal with everyday gets too heavy.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” He smiled at her because he liked her honesty. He liked the familiarity of her American accent, the fact that they shared the same faith, and even the Oregon Ducks mug she drank her coffee from. They were all things he was comfortable with—a part of home and their shared background.

“I know you think I’m wrong, but I can’t stop thinking about Joseph, his father and mother, and his little sister. There’s got to be something I can do.”

He wondered if the nightmare of living through the last coup was his real reason for not wanting to get drawn in. “We don’t even know who’s involved, or who we can trust. If this district is mixed up in all this, like Joseph said, that means there’s likely to be bribed officials or sympathizers on every level in this area.”

“So I just sit back and do nothing, like you said?”

He glanced at his watch. It was getting late, but he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. Surely there was an answer here somewhere. “Have you thought anymore about what you’re going to do about Joseph?”

“I don’t know. He can’t go back to his village. I suppose I could help him get to the capital. He stays there with his uncle during the school year.”

“And the Ghost Soldiers?”

Natalie blew out a short breath. “Patrick told me tonight he has proof that the Ghost Soldiers are nothing more than rumors from the opposition party to discredit the current government.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I want to, but I also can’t forget what Joseph told me ... Something happened, Chad. Something horrible.”

Part of him wanted to assure her everything was going to be all right, but that was one guarantee he could never make. Losing his best friend, Stewart, to gunfire during the coup all those years ago had taught him that. “I still don’t think you should get involved, but call me if you need to, okay?”

She nodded, and they both sat quietly for a few moments as the swing rocked back and forth. Somewhere in the night a cricket chirped, and an owl hooted in the trees above them. A radio played next door, its static reception crackling across the breeze. Poverty, hardship, and death surrounded them both, yet somehow life went on. Babies were born and grew up to have babies of their own. People found ways to survive in conditions his friends back home couldn’t understand.

Maybe God was still here…somewhere.

He cleared his throat and shifted to the edge of the swing. “Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed myself immensely, but I think I’d better go. Five o’clock is going to come sooner than I want.”

“Thanks for staying.”

He caught her smile and felt a sense of peace wash over him. “You’re welcome.”

With a start, Natalie sat up on the lumpy couch in her living room and stared at the figure standing above her. “Joseph. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I…I need some water, please.”

“Sure.”

Natalie stumbled across the living room, still half asleep. She shook her head, trying to forget the dreams that had haunted her. Even in sleep, she couldn’t shake the implications of Joseph’s story.

She poured him a glass of filtered water from the fridge, then leaned against the counter while he drank it. When he finished, he set the cup down in the sink and caught her gaze.

“I need you to take me to my village.”

“Your village?” She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, hearing Chad’s warnings. He was right. She shouldn’t get involved. “I don’t know, Joseph.”

“Everything I told you is true. My sister and parents were dragged up into the mountains…the dead bodies.” The tone of his voice pleaded with her. “I need you to see it. I need you to believe me.”

“I want to help you, Joseph, but—”

“They will kill my father.” His hands dropped to his sides. “He has TB.”

“Tuberculosis?” Joseph’s words pierced her heart. “I didn’t know.”

“He can’t work in a mine. Maybe a few days. . .but in the end, when his strength leaves, they will kill him. Like they killed my grandfather.”

“I don’t know what to say except that I’m so sorry.”

“Then you’ll take me to my village? You will see what I saw and help me find my camera? I need the photos. I have to find a way to save my family.”

Natalie rubbed the back of her neck. Photos would prove to Patrick, Stephen, and even to Chad what had happened. And would help substantiate Joseph’s claims that the Ghost Soldiers existed.

Natalie nodded. “We’ll go in the morning.”