Like Dandelion Dust (32 page)

T
he main road out of the airport and through Port-au-Prince was littered with potholes and broken-down cars. Molly and Jack sat in the third row of a rusty old van, Joey tucked safely between them. Molly’s mind kept shouting the obvious at her. They were really here. They’d gotten out of the States, and in just a few days they’d be in Europe, pretending they were tourists—and a few weeks after that, they’d be in the Cayman Islands. It was working. The plan was working.

Her heart filled with equal amounts of joy and sorrow at the prospect.

Jesper, their driver, pointed to a building on their right. It was made of white, crumbling bricks, and it looked seriously damaged. “This is hospital.” He smiled. “Hospital stay open even after hurricane.”

Seated in front were Beth, Bill, and Jonah. The backseat was filled with the other Petty kids, most of whom were sleeping. In the van behind them were three college kids who would round out their group, and a leader from the college group at church. He would supervise their work at the orphanage.

Molly did everything she could to listen to Jesper. It took her mind off the details that still had to come together before they could leave Haiti.

Jesper was a gracious man with dark skin and bright eyes. He had a deep faith, that much was clear from the moment he met them.

“God give you a good trip, yes?” His smile lit up his face.

“Yes.” Bill answered for them. “God gave us a great trip. Thank you.”

Jesper went on about God’s favor and God’s mercy and God’s providence, all while he was gathering their bags and leading the way back out to the van. He hadn’t stopped talking since he picked them up.

At the moment he was talking about the faith of the Haitian people. “God is everything to people in my country. The people not committed to darkness.” He gestured to the masses teeming on either side of the highway. “You see? You see how people live? God is everything.”

Molly could hardly believe how the people lived.

Because of the broken-down cars and the occasional cyclist pulling a cart or the random person herding animals along in one of the lanes, travel was slow. It gave all of them a chance to take in the surroundings. Joey was sleeping between the two of them, but Jack was mesmerized by the sights, same as her.

They passed rows of dwellings that were little more than shanties, small shacks with dirt floors, some of them without even a roof. Very obviously most of them did not have electricity or running water. The people moving on the broken sidewalks carried large containers on their heads, and wove their way around what looked like one continuous flea market.

Jesper came to a grinding halt and slammed his hand on the horn. All the vehicles around him did the same thing. Up ahead, a pick-up truck had stopped in the middle of the road so six or seven guys could jump out the back and dodge through traffic to the side of the road.

The guys waved, friendly-like, but before traffic could pick up again, there was a thud and the van jolted.

“What was—” Bill and Beth spun around.

Molly and Jack did the same thing, and there, clinging to the back of the van, were two young men.

Jesper laughed. “Americans think strange that people take rides from each other.” He rolled down his window and gave a thumbs-up sign to the men now hanging from the back of the van. “Bondye reme ou!”

Molly knew that one.
God loves you.
She smiled despite the absurdity of it all. Jesper picked up speed, and somehow the men clinging to the back held on. The next time traffic ground to a stop, they hopped off, waved, and went their way.

The stop gave Molly the chance to notice a village woman sitting in front of a dirty stone table. She looked haggard and weary, dressed in a rag skirt and blouse, her hair tied back. Before traffic eased enough for Jesper to move the van, the woman grabbed a chicken from a cage of squawking birds on the ground next to her.

She pressed the chicken’s neck against the big dirty rock and grabbed a butcher knife. In seconds, the deed was done, and deftly the woman skinned and gutted the bird, tossing the meat into a bin behind her. A swarm of flies lifted as the meat fell into the container.

Molly felt a wave of nausea and looked at Jack. His face was pale and he nodded. He’d seen the same thing. Bill turned around and whispered, “Good thing we brought canned tuna.”

“Definitely.” Molly managed a smile. She tapped Beth on the shoulder. “Did you see that?” Her voice was barely audible, since Jesper was still talking up front.

“What?” Beth looked distracted. She’d been that way ever since they boarded the plane in West Palm Beach.

“The chicken, did you see the woman with the chicken?”

“No.” Beth held her gaze for a moment. “I guess I have a lot on my mind.”

Molly wanted to ask what, but she was afraid of her sister’s answer. They had struggled since the day Beth asked if she and Jack were going to run. Molly guessed her sister was still worried about that fact. But Beth must know there was nothing she could do now.

An ache filled Molly’s heart as Beth turned and faced the front of the van again.
My sweet sister . . . if only I could tell you, if only I could say good-bye the way I want to say it. Please . . . don’t be mad at me forever.
She sighed and Jack looked at her. He put his arm along the back of the seat and stroked her shoulder. His look said not to worry. Everything would be okay.

She gave him a worried smile. It would have to be okay. They had no choice now.

Jesper was going on about the worship times. “Hours of singing, because the people know that God is everything. All we have, all we need.”

Molly had a feeling that someday very soon, if she and Jack and Joey were going to survive their new life, they just might be saying the same thing.

Beth wanted to focus on the trip, on the experience at hand, especially as they approached the orphanage. But every few minutes she found herself looking at her sister, trying to read her actions, her eyes, her tone. Was she wrong? Was everything really the way Molly had explained it? Could it be that she was only the victim of an overly active imagination—the way Bill suspected?

Jesper directed their attention to the buildings on their left. “The first is the orphanage, and next to it, the mission house.”

Both sat behind thick brick walls, easily eight feet high. Along the top row of stone were loops of sharp razor wire. The windows in the van were open now, and they could hear the clamoring of children on the other side of the wall.

“Orphanage and mission house need security,” Jesper said.

Beth assumed that most of Port-au-Prince must need security, since all the buildings on that street had similar walls and razor wire.

A guard with a rifle rolled open a heavy iron gate for them. He grinned at Jesper and tipped his worn baseball cap. The van pulled in and parked in the narrow driveway. “This is the mission house. We will walk to orphanage.”

The Petty kids and Joey were all awake now, asking Jesper questions as quickly as he could answer them. They piled out through the side door, grabbing luggage from under the seats and trying to make sense of the chaos. The van with the three college kids and the young pastor pulled in and parked behind them.

“Who lives at the mission house?” Cammie climbed out of the backseat. Blain and Braden followed her.

“Volunteers and visiting Americans.” Jesper smiled. “Today . . . you and your family!”

“What do people eat here?” Braden rubbed his eyes. “I’m hungry.”

“Faun will have rice feast in one hour.” Jesper’s voice rang with pride. “We take good care American guests.”

The questions continued as they pulled their suitcases into the house. “Were we supposed to bring pillows?” Bill uttered the question quietly as they made their way up the walk.

“I don’t think so.” Jack looked over his shoulder and smiled. “But I did, anyway. You never know.”

Beth watched the men, not sure what to feel. This was something new, the way they got along and made small talk so easily. Was it genuine—something that had come from their prayer meeting? Or was this new camaraderie only Jack’s way of getting along with Bill, keeping suspicions at bay until he and Molly and Joey made their break?

The men from the other van trailed them into the house. The leader said something about putting their suitcases away and heading over to the orphanage to meet the children.
Good,
Beth told herself.
Let them go.
It would take longer to get their two families settled at the mission house, and that meant Beth had more time to study her sister. Without the group leader interrupting.

She watched Molly, the easy way her sister smiled at Joey and Jack as one of the volunteers met them and directed them to a room off to the left. If they were planning a getaway, they didn’t show it. They seemed surprisingly at ease. Beth was suddenly assaulted by doubt. What if she was wrong? How could she ever expect Molly to forgive her for the questions she’d asked, and the way she’d been acting?

Beth had no answers for herself. They were led to their rooms, and Bill nodded his approval. “Running water and electricity. I’d say they treat their guests very well.”

“I hope they treat the orphans this nicely.” Cammie grabbed her suitcase and flung it on her bunk bed. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Again Beth was pulled back into the moment. They were here to take part in a work trip, after all. It was time to stop worrying about Molly and Jack and Joey. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for her own kids. She worked her bag beneath her bunk and sat on the edge of the mattress.

Suddenly tears blurred her vision, and she closed her eyes. For months she’d been preaching to Molly and Jack that the answer lay in praying for God’s will. Trust God, she’d told them. He knows what’s best for Joey, even if it doesn’t seem best to you. But what had she, herself, been doing?

The whole time she’d been trying to teach Molly and Jack about faith, she’d been walking in her own strength entirely. Not once had she prayed about her doubts where Molly and Jack were concerned. Sure, she kept praying for Joey, that her sister would get to keep her son. But every time she felt doubts about what Molly and Jack might be planning, she turned into a detective, firing questions at her sister and snooping for clues.

Even the phone calls to the social worker and to Wendy Porter were done without so much as a single bit of communication with God. No wonder she’d been plagued by doubt and fear. She had no peace, because she hadn’t taken her own advice.

Now she bowed her head and covered her face. The kids were distracted, heading out into the main room with Bill. Only Jonah remained, and he must’ve heard her crying.

“What’re you doing, Mommy?” Jonah bounced down next to her. “Are you sad?”

“No, not really.” She sniffed and put her arm around him. “Mommy needs a minute to pray.”

“Is it okay if I play with Blain and Braden?”

“Yes, sweetie. Go ahead.”

Jonah ran off, and Beth covered her face once more. Then she did what her soul had been crying for since she woke up that morning.
God . . . forgive me for my doubts and suspicions. I’ve tried so hard to be my sister’s keeper, when You already know exactly what’s going to happen. Help me remember the joy of my salvation and the certainty of Your truth, Father.
She wiped at her tears. They were meeting for the rice feast in just ten minutes.
And, God . . . I beg You that Your will be done for Molly and Jack and Joey. From this minute on I’ll trust You—whatever happens.

She opened her eyes and stood up. Without a doubt she knew what she was going to do the moment she saw Molly. She would sit beside her at the rice feast, and before another minute passed, she would do what she should’ve done a long time ago.

She would apologize.

Chapter Twenty-Six

J
ack could feel his heart changing.

On the inside where his existence had been all confidence and self-assurance, something was happening, a softening—a knowing that somehow all his life, just maybe he’d been wrong. He hadn’t expected this kind of change to happen at this stage of the plan. The trip to Haiti, the work . . . It was all part of the guise to get them out of the country. But after a day of working with the Haitian people and the volunteers at the orphanage, Jack could see that Jesper was right.

God
was
everything to them.

It was their second full day in Haiti, and Jesper suggested a trip into the city. Day excursions were a scheduled part of the work trip, a way to take food and supplies to the people in the streets. For Jack, the day trips had been his guarantee that the plan would work. Once they were on the city streets, anything could happen. And he would make sure it did.

They’d spent that morning working with the children and the volunteers at the orphanage. Bill watched as Joey and the Petty kids mingled with the orphans. The children had only one small play room, a square area with a tile floor and no furniture. There were maybe four or five toys among more than forty boys and girls.

“I thought the church back home sent toys and clothes to these kids,” Jack said to Jesper.

He smiled. “Kids get lots of toys and clothes. Much more than children on street.” He motioned toward the front gate. “Volunteers box up things Americans send, give to family and friends on street who have nothing.”

The answer was humbling.

They set to work repairing a collapsed wall on the south side of the orphanage, and at break time Jack found Joey with six little boys. He had a protein bar for his son, and a few others for the orphans. Hardly enough to go around.

He pulled Joey aside. “Hey, sport, I have a snack for you. Think you could share with the other boys?”

Joey’s blue eyes shone with love. “O’ course, Daddy.” He took the bars and ran back to the circle of boys.

Joey broke the bars into small bits and gave each of the boys a piece. The children were overwhelmed with joy. They marveled and held up their snack, chattering in Creole, obviously excited. What Jack saw next only added to the strange feeling inside him. Each of the Haitian children took their piece and ran to a group of the other children. Still chattering and gesturing in sheer joy, they broke off piece after piece until every child in the orphanage had a small bite.