Finally & Forever (7 page)

“I met her in Brazil a few years ago. I was on a short-term mission project, and she worked for the same mission organization. I knew she went to Rancho Corona because she was always wearing her university sweatshirt.”

Katie nodded. “I’ve been wearing mine a lot since I got here. Have you kept up with Sierra? I haven’t talked to her for a long time.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I need to check in on her. I’ll tell her I met you.” Katie paused. “Wait. What was your name again? I’m bad with remembering names lately.”

“Kara Hawthorne.”

“Kara from Kansas. Got it.”

“Tell Sierra hi for me.”

“I will. See you later.”

Katie hoped Eli had his laptop with him at the Lion’s Den. She could hang out at the Coffee Bar and email both Christy and Sierra. The three of them had met years ago when Katie and Christy had gone to England to serve on a short-term mission trip.

Katie’s involvement at Brockhurst didn’t feel like it was going to be a mission trip. This wasn’t a “go play with the kids in a foreign country and tell them a Bible story” sort of one-week experience. This was the next season in her life. Not that she was exactly sure what that meant. But for now, this was it. This was her life. Now that the fear had lifted, she felt like she had more space to breathe and pay attention to what was going on around her. If only she felt better.

Katie sauntered upstairs to the Coffee Bar, and the first thing she heard was the rumble of deep male voices coming from the pastors gathered at nearly every table as they were caught up in important conversations. It sounded like she had indeed stepped into a lion’s den, and, though these lions were quite tame, each had something to roar about.

Katie saw Eli before he saw her. He was in full swing as a barista boy. His hair was flipping every which way, and his white apron looked like a shield that had taken a few hits on the coffee grounds battlefield. But, as ever, he looked steady and content.

The customer he happened to be helping at the moment was the man from the Congo. Katie sidled up to the counter. “And add a side of flying peanuts to that, if you will.”

Both Eli and the pastor looked at her in surprise. “You don’t put them in coffee,” the pastor said.

“I know. I was just making a joke. Never mind.” Katie was becoming aware of how often her humor wasn’t working here. Perhaps it was because the things that she thought were odd and worth poking fun at were commonplace for everyone else.

“Katie, this is Ben,” Eli said. “We just met this evening.”

“Ben!” Oh,
his name is Ben! Not Bin
. Katie kept the name mistake to herself and swallowed her smile. “Yes, we met earlier. Ben taught me about the flying peanuts.”

“Did you try one?” Eli looked serious.

“No.”

“They’re a great source of protein.”

“I’m sure they are.”

“How are you feeling?” Eli called over his shoulder as he poured a cup of coffee for Ben.

“Better.”

“Have you been ill?” the pastor asked.

“I have a small infection.”

“May I pray for you?” Ben didn’t wait for an answer. He bowed his head and asked God to put his great and powerful healing hand on Katie, to remove from her body the sickness and poison, and to deliver her from evil.

It was an unexpected prayer that felt natural in the roomful of pastors.

“Thank you,” Katie said when he finished the prayer.

Pastor Ben looked at her. His eyes narrowed behind his wire-rimmed glasses, and he tilted his head slightly to the side. He looked as if he were listening for something. With a compassionate expression, he said her name in a rumbling sort of way. “Katie.”

“Yes?”

“You have to remember the peace. The past will find you here, but it’s for a different purpose than you think.”

“Okay.” His fragmented words seemed odd. She looked over at Eli. He wasn’t paying attention to them at the moment because he was at the cash register making change for Ben. She had no idea if this was some sort of tribal blessing or what.

“Thank you.” It was the only response she could think of.

Ben put his hand over his heart and held it there a moment as he bowed his head and then looked up at her again.

She didn’t know if she should respond with the same gesture or just stand there. She opted for standing and trying to look respectful.

“Remember the peace,” he repeated.

Katie nodded. “Okay.” Again, she had no idea what he was talking about.

Ben picked up his change and the cup of coffee and walked away.

Katie looked over at Eli, who was now standing in front of her with a steady grin.

“I have something for you.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a sealed white envelope that had some handwriting on the front and looked as if it had lumpy, small pebbles inside.

“Mail from home already?” Katie quipped.

“Better than that. Antibiotics from Dr. Harry at the Rift Valley Academy. Dr. Powell brought them to me about an hour ago.”

Katie had never gotten teary-eyed over medicine before. She had never received mysterious, encrypted messages from short men who ate termites. She had never been told by broad-shouldered Scottish women to figure out what she was passionate about.

And she had never dreamed of Africa like this.

T
he third day after the rains subsided and after Katie had started on the antibiotics, she felt as if she finally had arrived all the way. Her body may have arrived when their plane landed in Nairobi, but her heart caught up with her a week later, very specifically at 6:45 on a Tuesday morning.

That was the moment Katie opened her door, and Eli stood there wearing one of his frayed beanies and with a daypack on his back.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” In every way she believed she finally was ready.

The destination of their early morning trek was the tea fields. Cheryl had been promising to go with Katie, but Eli was the one who set the plan in motion and showed up right on time on her doorstep. Katie followed him, feeling cute and comfy in her favorite pair of jeans, a freshly laundered T-shirt, and a new-used pale green knit sweater she found in the Sharing Closet next to the laundry.

The Sharing Closet was a small room where left-behind clothing from conferees ended up, freshly washed and ready to give away. Brockhurst residents also donated clothes, which made it worthwhile, Katie discovered, to check in every so often to see if any new items had been added. The sweater she found there yesterday was a boon, and one she was sure would get a lot of use.

This morning was the green sweater’s and Katie’s maiden voyage to the tea fields. She had her cell phone camera ready and wore a pair
of hiking boots she had bought at home at her favorite discount store, Bargain Barn. On Katie’s first visit to the Sharing Closet, she realized it was a miniature Bargain Barn, and that made her happy in a way she was sure only her best friend, Christy, might understand.

“You look like you’re feeling a lot better.” Eli glanced at her and then reached for her hand.

Katie slipped her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “I feel really good. How are you doing?”

“Great.”

The two of them strolled hand in hand down the lower path that led to the entrance gate and the guardhouse. Eli greeted the uniformed guard in Swahili with a term that had become familiar to Katie. “Jambo.”

The guard tipped his hat and replied the same. They turned down a dirt road and walked under a canopy of trees as a chorus of birds greeted the new day with gusto. A woman with a baby slung across her shoulders by a wide piece of colorful fabric came toward them, smiling and making eye contact with them.

“Jambo,” Katie greeted her, feeling like a local.

As they continued to walk, more people from the nearby village appeared on the dirt road headed in both directions. Some of them were carrying bundles of something all wrapped up and balanced on their heads. Others had a child or two in tow and were nudging them forward the way any mother in any culture tries to keep her youngsters from stopping to examine every pebble and crawling bug along the way on a lovely, sunny morning.

Katie soon realized this was the morning commute. The people they passed were on their way to school and work, as most people around the world would be at seven in the morning. The notable difference was that no one was rushing — they all walked at a steady pace. No one was in athletic wear, jogging on the trail or riding an expensive bike to exercise before showering and jumping into an expensive car to dash to work. Here the commute was all the exercise anyone needed.

Katie could see over the side of the trail into a fertile valley where two dozen huts and an uneven assortment of metal-roofed shacks were flanked by even rows of carefully planted gardens. Smoke rose from an outdoor fire pit. A rooster crowed, and Katie noticed two skinny goats in the village that were tied to a post.

“This is so cool,” she said in a low voice.

“You like this?”

“Yes. This is how I pictured Africa. Only hotter and drier with giraffes and zebras running around.”

“I’m glad you said that; it reminded me I’m scheduled to take a group to the giraffe reserve in Nairobi on Friday. I signed you up. Do you want to go?”

“Absolutely.”

“I thought you would. Also, it looks like the tour agency will vacate the new offices by this afternoon. Dad bought some paint, and I let him know we would help him paint tomorrow.”

“Great.”

“I told him we were experienced.”

“Experienced?”

“Yes. Remember when we painted the apartment where Rick and I lived?”

“Oh, yes. How could I forget? Our big decorating debut. Or rather, Nicole’s decorating debut. I wonder how she’s doing with her big project of decorating Rick’s new restaurant.”

“Do you want to call her?” Eli asked.

“I don’t have international service on my cell phone yet. Your dad told me how I can set it up, but I haven’t done it.”

“You can use my phone anytime you want. What’s mine is yours.”

They had let go of hands earlier down the trail. Katie wanted to reach over, take his hand again, and give it a squeeze to say thanks for his generosity. She held back, though, not sure if Eli had let go because it was improper culturally for them to hold hands in public or if it was just easier to walk on the uneven trail without holding hands.

She was fine with just walking side by side. “Have you talked to your dad about his expectations of what you’ll be doing?”

“We talked briefly a few days ago, but my mom joined the conversation, and my dad said it sounded as if she was taking my side. She said she was only trying to help both of us to explore options.”

“It doesn’t seem like you got very far in the decision making.”

“No, we didn’t. I told my dad later that I thought he and I should talk it out, just the two of us.”

“Did he agree to that?”

“Yes and no. He said he had thought about what my mom had brought up in the discussion earlier, and he wanted her to feel that she had a chance to give her input since I’m her son too.”

“Eli, have your parents said anything about me?”

“Plenty.”

Katie gave his arm a tug. “So what have they said?”

“They think you’re wonderful, amazing, and adorable, and they hope you stay forever.”

“Really, really? Is that what they said?”

“Oh, wait. That was what I told them about you. Let me see, what was it they said about you?”

Katie gave his arm a playful swat.

“I remember now. They did say something about you. They said they think you’re wonderful, amazing, and adorable, and they hope you stay forever.”

“Eli, I’m serious. Do they have any unexpressed expectation of what I should be doing?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Your mom is always so nice to me. I’d hate to think that I’m doing something wrong and she’s too kind to tell me. Or that your dad is secretly wishing that I’d sign up to be a security guard or something but he’s not saying so.”

“A security guard?”

“They’re the only ones around here who get to wear uniforms, and I think their uniforms are really nifty.”

“Nifty?” Eli laughed. “Katie, no one wants you to be a security guard, all right?”

“Fine. But if any of those guys donates his uniform to the Sharing Closet, I’m snatching it.”

“We don’t dress up for Halloween here.”

“Who said I was planning to save it for Halloween?”

“Katie?”

“Yes?”

She could feel Eli staring at her profile.

“Nothing.” A hint of laughter was in his tone.

They walked a little farther down the red dirt trail, and Katie said, “Eli?”

“Yes?”

She waited a beat before responding. “Everything.”

Eli laughed again, and Katie couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this happy.

The trail curved upward and took them around a bend. When they made the turn, Katie stopped to draw in her breath. Spread out before them across the curved and rounded hills were acres and acres of tea plants.

“Wow,” she murmured.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Eli stood next to her, admiring the view.

“Amazing isn’t the word. Magnificent is more like it. Eli, look at the light on the green leaves. I’ve seen pictures of tea fields but, wow! The photos never looked this amazing. Look at all those tea plants.”

“I like the way the rows between the plants look like seams. If those narrow gaps weren’t there in those long strips, it would just be a sea of green.”

Katie noticed what Eli was talking about. The tea plants looked as if they were about three or four feet high and were situated close together so that they formed a hedge. But instead of looking like a single hedge that served as a wall, narrow rows had been cut in between the plants to allow harvesters enough space to walk up and down the hillsides and pick the small buds that grew on the top of the tea plants.

“Is it okay if we go down there and walk through the fields?” Katie asked.

“Sure, though one of the pickers might put us to work.”

“Really?”

Eli laughed. “It’s not as exciting as you might think. It’s tedious work. They only pick the top inch or two of the buds and leaves.”

“If I remember, those are called ‘flushes,’ “ Katie said. “And the proper name for the plant is
Camellia sinensis
. I remember that.”

“Impressive.”

“So is this.” Katie tried to take in the beauty of the fields before her and the way the sunlight was touching the
Camellia sinensis
leaves, gracing them with what looked like finely spun lace. She stared and stared but still felt she couldn’t take it all in.

“Eli, I have to tell you something.”

He put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t get this before.”

“Get what?”

“You. This. I know I keep saying how different everything is here, but I’m beginning to understand why you were the one who seemed so different when I met you last year. You somehow managed to stay within this slower rhythm even in crazy California, and I thought you were … I don’t know … different.”

“Slow?”

“Yes. But not like mentally slow or emotionally challenged. You just lived at a different pace on the inside. I think I’m beginning to understand why it seemed to me that you were never in a hurry.”

“That’s a good observation. Does it seem to you that I’m not in a hurry about us, about our relationship?”

“Yes, I guess. But I’m not in a hurry either.”

“Good. Because we have lots of time.”

“Yes, we do,” Katie agreed.

“Lots and lots of time,” Eli repeated.

Katie’s eyebrows furrowed. Cautiously, she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “Eli?”

“Yes?”

“What exactly is your idea of ‘lots of time’?”

When Eli didn’t respond right away, Katie asked again. “I mean, do you define lots of time as meaning a month? A year? A decade?”

“Until what? Until we get married?”

His abrupt conclusion caught her off guard. “Ah, don’t you think we should, like, date first? You know, get to know each other, evaluate how we’re doing, take the next step as it comes?”

“I don’t really see us dating.” Eli looked serious.

“You don’t?”

“No. Dating is a California thing. How are you and I supposed to ‘date’ in Kenya?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now? Isn’t this a date?” Katie asked.

“No, not to my way of thinking.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s us being us. You know how I told you before that in Kenya it’s about being, not about doing? Well, this is us being us. Together.”

“You’re messin’ with my worldview, Lorenzo.”

“Good.” He took her hand in his, and they walked farther into the fields.

They reached the entry trail to the first row of tea plants and then walked together down the waist-high row. Katie ran the flat palm of her hand over the top of the spring green leaves. The farther she walked, the more surrounded she was on every side with the gorgeous, vibrant green.

She was aware that their banter session had done nothing to clarify where they were in their relationship, and yet she felt settled, calm, and at peace. This wasn’t California. This was Kenya. They weren’t dating. They were going together. Okay, she could live with that.

Remember the peace
.

The mysterious words from Pastor Ben came back to her. Was this what he meant? Was she supposed to pay attention to the times when she felt God’s peace? Because she certainly was feeling it now.

“Stand right there.” Eli pulled out his phone. “I’ll take your picture.”

Katie struck a pose, and Eli snapped a picture.

With a grin he said, “You are a woman who is outstanding in her field.”

Katie didn’t catch the joke at first, but when she did, she cracked up. “Nicely played!” She reached into her sweater’s pocket for her phone. “Don’t move. The sun is just right. Say,
Camellia sinensis’
!”

Eli busted up, and Katie caught an extremely cute shot of him surrounded by the tea plants and with the early morning sun giving him a freshly washed look. She checked the photo on her phone’s screen. Eli had such a great manly look to him with his wayward hair and scruffy, unshaven face.

A slender man with a canvas sack strung diagonally over his shoulder came plodding up the road toward Eli and Katie. He apparently recognized Eli, because he called out a warm greeting that started with “Jambo” but included other words Katie didn’t recognize.

The two men exchanged wide smiles. Eli introduced Katie to Itimu, and he cordially shook her hand. She was startled at how sinewy and rough his hands were.

“How is your mother?” Eli asked.

Itimu replied and asked the same of Eli. He asked about Eli’s father, and Eli asked about his children. This went on for a few minutes as they both took the time to listen attentively to the other’s responses.

Katie joined the conversation and had a lot of questions for Itimu. She wanted to know if the satchel he was wearing was for tea harvesting, and if so, could he show her how it was done?

He handed her the bag, she put it over her shoulder, and then he proceeded to demonstrate how to pick the small top bud and tuck it in the bag. As Katie moved down the row, picking tea, she kept up her flow of questions.

When she asked how long it took him to fill the bag, he replied that he wasn’t sure. He worked until he was done, and then he went home.