Mi bendito Cristo en la turbación.
In all the chaos my blessed Christ
.
.
The triumphal chorus soared to the rafters. “
Mas allá del sol, yo tengo un hogar, hogar, bella hogar, mas allá del sol
.” “Far beyond the sun, I have a home, a beautiful home, far beyond the sun.”
Vicki found herself swallowing again and again. She stole a glance at Joe. He was listening with every indication of appreciation, his strong features as relaxed as she had ever seen them.
A similar thought must have come to him because he nodded toward the singers. “I guess it’s like you were saying the other day on the plane. These people really
know
what we who possess so much more have a hard time believing—that there’s something beyond all the dirt and poverty and problems that makes it all worth living. And that the God who created it all really does know what He’s doing with the world.”
Vicki shook her head, bemused. “That wasn’t me on the plane. That was you.”
His mouth curved slightly, but he said nothing more as the pastor, in fashion the world over, wound up the service with what were clearly announcements. The dim lighting allowed Vicki to study Joe’s profile discreetly. He had to be the most contradictory person she’d ever met. It was as though he chose to be the unreliable drifter Bill had warned her against. But every once in a while, even against his will, another very decent human being slipped through the facade he had chosen to present the world.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
This time Vicki didn’t let her gaze drop as she answered with equal softness, “Because I’m starting to like you—the way you think. And I’m not sure I should.”
Vicki considered him meditatively. Then a new thought came to her that in the dimness made sudden sense. “Joe, are you working for someone else besides Bill? Maybe some government agency?”
“Are you trying to rehabilitate me? I’m flattered, but the answer is no. I’m working for Bill Taylor—no one else."
Vicki swallowed disappointment. “But you aren’t really who you appear to be either, are you?”
Joe didn’t answer immediately. Vicki was sorry she’d asked because the relaxed serenity that had transformed him was gone, his mouth thinning into what had to be an unpleasant thought. As though torn out of him, he admitted in a low voice, “No, I’m not. And I really shouldn’t be here. If you’ll excuse me.”
Joe melted into the thatch and press of bodies. As the service broke up, Vicki didn’t see him again.
Cesar introduced Vicki to the pastor and his wife. Then Vicki spotted the center cook working her way towards them through the crowd.
Maria invited them to stay for the hearty stew Vicki had seen simmering over the cook fire. Alicia and Gabriela emerged from the hammock for this. By the time she left, Vicki had even managed to coax a smile from them.
Vicki was glad she went, but the outing had spoiled the fragile tranquility she’d carved out for herself among the animals and flowers and tangled vegetation of this mountain sanctuary. Her beautiful surroundings were no longer enough.
Vicki didn’t make the trek again to Bill’s house. Running out of reading material, she leafed through the Bible she’d dug out after Evelyn’s visit. Vicki reread the story Evelyn had told of Abraham and Sarah, then went on to others she remembered from Sunday school.
Joseph sold by his brothers into captivity in Egypt.
Moses wandering for forty years as a shepherd before being called to tend an even more recalcitrant flock.
Daniel and his three friends ripped away from their families for a lifetime of exile in Babylon.
The next Sunday Vicki returned to the village church, where she was now recognized and welcomed. This time Joe wasn’t there. It had been days since he’d even showed up at the center.
Over the next week Vicki read of wandering prophets and missionary apostles. Of Jesus, the very Son of God, walking dusty streets of villages not unlike rural Guatemala, touching with compassion people just like those with whom Vicki had worked. None of them seemed to have had it easy. Nor had those they’d come to serve always cared or cooperated. Vicki read of persecution and stoning and death. Yet they’d clearly found what they were doing worthwhile. Like that village congregation—and Joe—they’d seen something ahead that made the less-than-perfect world in which they lived and their own troubles eminently meaningful.
And Vicki?
Sitting cross-legged on the rock shelf overlooking
Pozo Azul
and Lake Izabal that had become her favorite thinking spot, Vicki closed the Bible. It was a rare clear afternoon. She took a deep breath, relishing the fragrance, the spray of the falls on her face, the waves dancing silver far below.
It’s so beautiful!
But beautiful though it was, the time had come to leave. Not just because of those e-mails from her employer demanding to know when she’d be back. There was simply no reason to stay.
Vicki had strong suspicions Rosario and Beatriz were siphoning animals into the exotic pet trade. And someone over at the army base was providing transportation. The two administrators handled the logs, and those didn’t match Vicki’s unofficial count of parrots, macaws, and monkeys. Though she’d drop a bug in Alison’s ear, Vicki couldn’t rouse herself to any serious outrage. Nor did she believe Rosario and Beatriz would kill over such a matter, however urgently Holly might have looked at such an affair. Such transactions were too much a part of life down here. Besides, they’d been at the center when Holly died.
The same could be said for the army base. If they were aware Holly had been wandering on her own through the biosphere, it was hardly a capital offense. Either way, if neither Vicki nor Michael with all Alpiro’s help had turned up any further leads in what was now going on for a month, she had to accept it was unlikely to happen now.
Maybe I was wrong all along. Holly really was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe I really did lose the pendant when we moved her
.
An Australian team was arriving tomorrow, and there were Spanish speakers among them. Vicki wouldn’t be needed anymore. So what next? Maybe a longer term assignment? Put down some roots?
She walked back up the path.
I’ll have to let Michael know
. Would he be disappointed to see her go? Or relieved to have one problem laid to rest for the embassy?
Vicki had last seen Michael almost a week ago. But she’d seen UPN helicopters coming in this morning so maybe he’d be by this afternoon.
Will he try to talk me out of going? Or is he just being . . . nice?
The path led Vicki near the outdoor kitchen, and she heard murmuring before identifying the speakers. Cesar and Maria, heads close together, hands gesturing frenetically.
“Is everything all right?”
They whirled around. Vicki saw the urgency of their expressions before passivity dropped like a well-accustomed mask.
Cesar waved away her question. “Yes, everything is fine. Just a small difficulty that has arisen. Since all is in readiness for tomorrow, I have assured Maria no one will object if she departs before the dinner hour.”
With a team arriving tomorrow, Maria had spent the morning sorting out a mule cart of market produce while Vicki worked with Beatriz to prepare the sleeping barracks. Joe had even flown in a cargo of canned and dry goods. Vicki had heard the DHC-2 drop in over the ridge not long after the UPN helicopters. A crunch of gravel she’d heard on her way out to
Pozo Azul
had turned out to be Bill’s pickup delivering the supplies.
“You will tell Beatriz that Maria and I were called away? And perhaps, if it is not too much trouble, warm the food for yourself and the others?”
“It’s no trouble. But what is the difficulty?” Vicki looked at Maria. She stood motionless with her eyes lowered, but the work-worn hands were twisting tightly in her apron. “Cesar, something’s obviously wrong. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“It’s nothing for which you need concern yourself. It is just . . . Alicia and Gabriela. They cannot be found.”
“That isn’t a small problem! Do you think they’ve just run off to play or that something’s happened to them? How long have they been gone?”
“Since yesterday we have not been able to locate them.”
Vicki managed to get out of Cesar that the girls had eaten their tortillas and beans the morning before but had been nowhere in sight when Maria left for the center. She had assumed they’d already headed to the village school. Since children their age wandered freely in these mountains, many even working for a living, Maria hadn’t worried until the two girls hadn’t shown up when she returned from work. A neighbor child had informed her that the girls never arrived at school. They’d searched the streets, calling, knocking on doors. But the girls had not turned up before it grew too dark to continue.
“Maria feels it is possible the children wandered too far playing to return before nightfall and found some place to sleep to wait for light. Or perhaps they were trying to frighten my cousin by staying away. Perhaps as punishment for a scolding. When Maria came to work this morning, others of the family agreed to search for them in the fields and woods. They were to let us know if the girls were found. But now it is afternoon, and Maria worries that they should be out so long without food. They are still quite small,” Cesar finished.
“But of course you should go find out what’s happening,” Vicki said with exasperation. “I can’t believe you came to work today. I’d like to help with the search. How are you getting into town?”
“I thought the bikes. Though Maria doesn’t ride.”
No, Maria walked. Close to an hour each way. Six days a week. Rain or shine. And no doubt considered this center employment a cushy lot in life.
“That’ll take too long.” Vicki glanced toward the sky. Now when she’d have welcomed the intrusion of a helicopter rotor, it was empty except for the gray of rain clouds beginning to spill down from the mountain heights. If only Michael had showed up, she could have asked his help. Vicki’s gaze fell on the green pickup parked in the cul-de-sac. “Perhaps Señor Taylor would give us a ride into the village.”
Vicki was never sure how much Maria understood of her Spanish, but Cesar spread his hands in acquiescence.
Vicki dashed over to the pickup. If Bill had time, maybe they could even ride around the plateau and try to spot the girls.
But it wasn’t Bill who was walking out of the main building, looking down at a clipboard with an abstracted frown, a hand radio to his mouth.
Vicki stopped short. She hadn’t spoken to Joe since that last strained encounter at the village church. Then she lengthened her stride. Alicia and Gabriela were of more urgency than any lingering awkwardness. “Joe, is Bill here? I need a favor.”
The hand radio dropped. “No, he’s occupied elsewhere. What is it?”
“I . . . well, I was hoping for a ride as far as the village.” Vicki explained the situation. “And if the girls are still missing, maybe Bill or . . . or you might have time to drive us around to look for them.”
Vicki saw Joe’s surreptitious glance at his watch before she’d even finished. “Of course, if it’s too much trouble . . .”
Joe didn’t rise to the bait. “A couple of lost kids are never too much trouble. But I just got back from Guatemala City with these supplies. Taylor is expecting me to report in shortly. And this is his vehicle. Let me see what he has to say.”
Stepping a few paces away, Joe raised the hand radio. “Yes, I got it. . . . They’re on board. . . . I’m aware of the time crunch. . . . Not till dark. In the meantime, we’ve got a situation. . . . That’s right, Maria’s girls . . . Yes, I’m aware of our priorities.”
Clipping the radio to his belt, he walked back to Vicki. “Taylor says the truck’s all yours. As am I.”
Was that some obnoxious double entendre? And how could he smile so gently helping Maria into the cab while treating Vicki as though she had some contagious disease? No matter. At least they had the vehicle. With no cargo, Joe took the rutted track so fast that Vicki had to grab the seat to keep from being jolted off.
She’d hoped to arrive at Maria’s and find the two girls safe. Or at least evidence of a well-organized search. There was neither, though swarms of people were milling around the dirt yard. Vicki recognized the Ladino pastor among them.
“Why aren’t they out looking for the girls?” Vicki demanded of Cesar. “It’s getting late in the day. And now it’s starting to rain. It’s going to be freezing once night falls.”
He shook his head. “It isn’t easy. The plateau has already been searched. It is not so big an area. The girls are not here.”
“You don’t think maybe they’ve wandered up into the biosphere?” No wonder the villagers were still here. How could they even begin searching that vast, untamed wilderness? “Have you tried contacting the army base? If Michael is there, I’m sure he could get them to call out a search. Even if he isn’t, maybe we could ask him to talk to his friends there. Or talk to Colonel Alpiro ourselves. If they could get their helicopters up into the mountains, maybe they could find the girls.”