After the Rains (42 page)

He rubbed his temples, deliberating.

Natalie. Dear Lord, if anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself
. He shut off the thoughts that tried to make inroads into his mind now. He needed a clear head. He needed wisdom from above. He turned off the generator and took out the keys that locked the storage closet. “Do you know where Natalie is?” he asked David.

“She was in the chapel with Tommi’s kids when I left the office … something about a language lesson.”

“Okay. Well, let’s go hang out at the office. We can try to get through to Meghan again and see if we can find out what’s going on. Maybe Bogotá will get back with something. Meghan didn’t say why she thought they might be headed here?” he asked again.

Again David shook his head. “Just that she overheard them talking and that they mentioned Timoné.”

“I don’t know what they’d want here,” Nate said, thinking aloud. “You haven’t gotten any vibes from the villagers that there’s something afoot here, have you?”

“No. Plenty of bad vibes in San José though. I told you about that. But nothing here.”

The radio was squawking when they walked into the office. “Get that, would you, Dave? I’m going to get Natalie.”

While David hurried to the radio and picked up the hand-held microphone, Nate flew down the office steps and jogged to the chapel.

Natalie was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the twins—Tommi’s sons. The two little boys sat side by side on their haunches, their copper-colored knees lined up like four peas in a pod. At first he thought Natalie was teaching them English, but it soon became clear that she was the student, they the teachers.

She pointed to her eyes and asked,
“Qué vocca topi?”
How do you say that?

Paku provided the word, and Natalie repeated it back to him. Nate watched for a while, hating his reason for interrupting, amazed at Natalie’s diligence in getting the pronunciations just right.

An irrational fury took hold of Nate: If this incident ended up sending Natalie home, taking her away from him again, or worse … it would devastate him.
Please, Lord
. It was all he could manage to pray. God knew what he meant. He shook off the thoughts and turned his attention back to the language lesson.

Natalie pointed to her knee.
“Qué topi?”
What’s this?

“Benotigua,”
Daric filled in.

Natalie tried to repeat the word, but instead, she used the word
benotiqué
,
which meant to spit. The boys rolled on the floor, laughing hysterically.

“Qué?”
Natalie whined, a quizzical smile on her face.
“Qué mi vocca?”

What did I say?

They only laughed harder, then began pantomiming a very convincing spitting contest, which was, indeed, a popular pastime for the village boys.

Almost forgetting the message he’d come to deliver, Nate laughed along with them.

Natalie glanced up from her roost on the floor. “
Hollio
, Dad,” she chirped.
“Que ésta ce?”
She must have read the concern on his face because she took one look at him and reverted to English. “Something’s happened. What’s wrong?”

“Well, I hope it’s nothing. But David just talked to Meghan Middleton, and something’s going on in Conzalez.” Speaking English, he explained what they knew.

“Are Hank and Meg okay?” She couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice.

“As far as we know. But it sounds pretty tenuous. If things heat up over this, Natalie, I don’t want you here.”

“Dad, no! I’ll be fine.” She jumped to her feet.

He held up a warning hand. “It may come to nothing. You know we get similar reports all the time. But this one is pretty close to home.” He didn’t tell her that Meghan seemed to think that Timoné might be a target.

“I want to stay, Dad,” Natalie pled. She spoke quietly to the twins, dismissing them in Timoné.

“Natalie, I don’t even have time to discuss it right now. Dave and I are going to camp out by the radio. He’s trying to get through to Meghan again.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He let her lead the way. David was on the radio when they walked in, his voice tight.

He covered the mike with a large hand and filled them in. “I’m on with somebody in Conzalez. I’m asking for Meg or Hank, and I don’t seem to be getting anywhere.”

He’d no sooner said the words than Hank Middleton’s voice came over the waves. “Nate? Dave?
¿Qué pasa?
” He spoke an Anglicized Spanish, which told Nate that he was being monitored.

David slid from the chair and motioned for Nate to do the talking.

He sat down and pulled the mike close. “Hank?
¿Qué pasa?
Is everything okay there?”

“Hi, Nate. We’ve got some guests. I guess we’re going to loan out the airstrip for a bit. Nothing long term, I don’t think.”

Nate could tell by the strain in Hank’s voice that his friend wasn’t alone. He listened intently, choosing his own words with equal care. “You don’t want us to come then?”

“Oh no. No need, I don’t think. Had any company up your way?”

“No. No … not lately. Should I get the guesthouse ready?”

“Oh, it might not hurt. Some of these fellows headed your—”

“¡Cállate!”

Nate, David, and Natalie exchanged worried looks as a stranger’s harsh bark came over the air, interrupting Hank.

“I guess I need to sign off now,” the young missionary told them. “Meghan sends her love.”

“Okay. God be with you, Hank.”

“Thanks, buddy. You, too.”

Nate signed off, and the three of them paced the room, discussing what their next action should be.

“It sounds like we could have visitors,” David said.

“Yes.” Nate scratched his head, deep in thought. “And I have no idea what they might want.”

“Do you think they’re looking for ransom?” David ventured. He glanced at Natalie, and then at Nate, as though wondering how much he should say.

Natalie apparently read his question. “Please don’t keep anything from me,” she said. “If there’s trouble, I need to know what’s going on.”

“She’s right, Dave,” Nate said. “Please speak freely.”

“Well, we sure don’t have an airport or a drug stash to offer, so—

“What about the clinic?” Natalie asked. “Could they have heard there are drugs there?”

Nate shook his head. “I doubt it. We don’t have the quantity—or really even anything attractive.”

“So, you think they might be planning to kidnap someone?” Natalie looked from Nate to David. Nate could see that she was trying hard to be brave.

He shook his head, still thinking aloud. “They know Gospel Vision won’t pay ransom. Unless they think they can get something from a family or a government … You have some millionaire relatives you haven’t told me about, Dave?” he said.

David laughed, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think we need to lift Meg and Hank up in prayer.”

“Of course,” Nate agreed, feeling guilty that he hadn’t done so already. He dipped his head in deference to his colleague. “Would you do that, Dave?”

“Sure.” David stretched his long arms out, inviting them to join hands.

Nate and Natalie went to either side of David, and Nate took his daughter’s other hand, closing the circle.

“Jehovah, Jesu, ceju na, kopaku,”
David prayed, beginning in Timoné.

But then he switched to English—for Natalie’s sake, Nate suspected.

“Be with Hank and Meg, Father God. Cover them with your loving protection. Give them courage, Lord, and wisdom to know what they should do. Grant them strength to endure whatever you might ask of them, and bring them safely through this day and the days to come. We ask it all in your precious name, Jesus. Amen.”

Love and respect for the younger man welled up in Nate’s spirit as David prayed. Beside him, Natalie squeezed his hand. It wasn’t fear he felt in her grasp, but strength and support.

Whatever might happen, he was in good company.

Thirty–Six

T
he sun was beginning its descent into the western sky—its afternoon sojourn always fleeting here on the fringe of the rain forest canopy. They’d been in the mission office—Natalie, her father, and David Chambers—waiting by the radio for over four hours now. They’d spoken with Gospel Vision in Bogotá and with the American embassy there, but though they’d tried numerous times to reach Conzalez, they’d had no further contact with the neighboring village mission since Hank Middleton’s call.

Natalie put a hand on her stomach to quiet its growling. Dad was bent over the table where the radio sat, his attention glued to the cryptic notes David made as he spoke with authorities at the mission headquarters and the embassy. She put a hand gently on her father’s arm. “Dad, why don’t I go fix us something to eat? I can bring it to the office.”

Preoccupied, he nodded his approval.

She climbed down the steps of the hut, crossed the stream, and headed into the village. Tommi’s twins, Paku and Daric, appeared out of nowhere, full of questions. They glanced at her nervously as if they sensed something was going on.

They quickly flanked Natalie and chattered away as they followed her through the village.

“Why did Dr. Nate close the clinic?” Paku wanted to know.

Daric, eyes round as snails, asked, “Is a storm coming?”

Natalie put a hand on Daric’s head, reveling in the heat that radiated from his thick, shiny black hair. “No, Daric. It’s not a storm,” she told him, hoping she was using the right words. “It is nothing for you to worry about. Just some business with a faraway mission.”

“See, I told you it wasn’t a storm,” Paku disputed his brother.

“Stop it, Paku,” Natalie scolded. “Go play now. Both of you. I must make dinner for Dr. Nate and Mr. David.”

She pushed them playfully in the direction of their
utta
and quickened her steps. Something felt different. Instinctively, she looked to the sky, half expecting to see an angry bank of clouds obscuring what was left of the sun. But the waning orb was bright and unveiled. In spite of the afternoon heat, Natalie shivered.

She debated building a fire in the
fogoriomo
, but decided it would take too long. Instead she cut some ripe mangoes, guava, and bananas and mixed them into a bowl of cold leftover rice. Then she sliced the fried flat-bread left from last night’s dinner into three triangles. They’d finished off a thermos of coffee at the mission office, so after she’d packed everything into a basket, she walked over to the clinic to get cold water from the refrigerator there. It wasn’t much of a lunch, but it would fill their stomachs. She doubted the men would taste a bite of it anyway.

She had just come to the rise where the path narrowed before it met the stream when she heard a commotion behind her in the village. She turned and shaded her eyes, gazing into the shadows. There was frenzied movement among the trees. At first she couldn’t figure out what she was seeing. It looked like giant butterflies flitting among the foliage, or a flurry of deciduous leaves, but she realized now that what she was seeing were the hands and faces of a dozen or more guerrilla soldiers. The village was teeming with men in green camouflage. As the truth registered in her mind, she took off running, barely able to breathe for the fear that lodged in her throat.

Stay calm
, she told herself.
Maybe they’re Colombian military
. But she knew better. Even in the short time she’d been here, she’d heard too many stories about kidnappings and guerrilla raids to believe the more palatable prospect. Meghan Middleton had tried to warn them.

Heart racing, she sprinted across the bridge and flew into the office, barely able to squeak out, “Dad, there are—soldiers in the village!”

“What? Guerrillas?” Alarm filled his voice.

“I’m not sure,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I think so.”

Dad and David both leapt to their feet and met her at the door, closing it quickly behind her. They ran to the window. Not seeing anything, they turned back to Natalie and bombarded her with questions. “Are you sure? Where were they?”

She told them everything she’d seen, but before she could finish they heard the frightened cries of villagers in the distance.

“Come on,” Dad commanded. He stopped for one moment and looked hard at Natalie. She could read in his eyes that he was considering making her stay here or hiding her somewhere. But something must have changed his mind, for he opened the door, praying aloud even as he led the way to the village. “Father God, go with us. Guide us. Protect us, Lord. May your will be done in all that happens today.”

He reminded Natalie of a general, leading his little army to battle. He marched them to the village commons where the soldiers were herding the villagers at gunpoint into the pavilion. As they stepped under the thatched roof of the spacious gazebo-like structure, Natalie heard Anazu, a village elder and Timoné’s first convert, arguing with the guerrillas. Again and again, he insisted that the guerrillas leave their village.

The captors spoke Spanish, and though Natalie could only make out a few words, one phrase, repeated over and over, filled her heart with terror—
¿Dónde están los Americanos?
Where are the Americans?

She saw her father and David Chambers exchange anxious glances, and she imagined that her life was passing before her eyes. She saw a picture of Mom and Daddy and her sisters weeping at her funeral back home. A strange image flashed through her mind—of three gravestones side by side. She could read the inscriptions, and they were for Dad and David and her. She shivered. Then she realized with a start that death was the more appealing scenario—there were far worse fates they could suffer at the hands of these rebels. Her own hands began to tremble.

Dad put an arm around her, and David came to her other side, moving through the crowd. The villagers were gathered in a semicircle under the pavilion, mothers holding children, young men clenching itchy fists at their sides.

Dad continued to move purposefully, ushering her and David to the front of the group in the center of the sea of bodies. Natalie expected him to exert his authority and speak with the leader of the guerrilla group, but he stopped suddenly and stood silent. He allowed Anazu to continue what
seemed to be fairly civil negotiations with the intruders, though it seemed that the elder did not understand everything that was being said. The other soldiers were stationed in a circle around the commons, weapons ready, but in spite of the repeated reference to
Americanos
that peppered the leader’s invective, none of them paid an iota of attention to Natalie, Nate, or David.