Searching for Moore (15 page)

“Can’t you get her number from Directory Assistance?”

“Her last name is Silver and she lives in New York.”

Dr. Faulkes actually laughed out loud and Schooner laughed with him at the absurdity of it. “That would be like finding a Smith in most areas of the country, I suppose.” He sat back in his big leather chair, tapping his finger against his lip. He looked at Schooner and smiled, “So, let me see if I’ve got this right — you’re heartbroken and now you have no plans for the summer — except for a few dates with me for surgeries.”

“Pretty much sums it up, Doc.”

Faulkes smiled at Schooner, a gleam in his eye. “So, that pretty much frees you up for an adventure.”

Schooner cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at the doctor, wondering what he was getting at.

“You know Schooner, in my experience, two things can help you get over a broken heart. The first is — fall in love with someone else, the second is a change of scenery. Since my daughter is only nine, I can’t offer you the first, but I can help you with the second. I’m going to be spending four weeks in Zambia this summer, helping to set up a hospital in a rural area of their Southern Province. There’s a lot of work to be done and we can always use an extra set of hands. Or in your case, hand,” he smiled at his own joke.

Zambia? I don’t even know where the fuck Zambia is, Schooner thought. Somewhere in Africa. Zambia. Helping people. Getting a hospital set up. Zambia.

And in that moment, Schooner felt alive again. He had a purpose. He was going to Zambia.

And with the quintessential Schooner Moore smile on his face, he asked Dr. Malcolm Faulkes, “Where do I sign up?”

After a day and a half of travel, they arrived in the capital of Lusaka, a vibrant modern city with wide avenues lined with Jacaranda trees. The friendly natives predominantly spoke English and Schooner made quite the splash with children at the Lumumba Market, who wanted to follow around the tall, blonde haired, blue eyed young man. Before heading out on their five hour Jeep ride to Macha, they visited the Moore Pottery Factory and Schooner bought his Mom a tea set decorated with a local native motif from this namesake gallery/factory.

They drove over rough, rutted dirt roads through the savannah not coming upon villages for hours at a time. Schooner documented the journey with his new Nikon camera from the vast plains to the small grass roofed huts in the villages. As they passed through, the children would wave and run after them until they reached the edge of the village.

They arrived in Macha late in the day and Schooner was captivated by its stark beauty and simplicity. They began to unload the supplies and equipment that had been shipped in containers from the U.S. Local children looked on, smiles covering their faces. The news of the American specialty doctors arrival had spread quickly and soon villagers were welcoming them, bringing local specialties such as Chikanda, a vegetarian sausage made from orchids, Samp, a dish of cooked hominy and dried beans and other assorted delicacies made from boiled leaves. The offering took on the feel of a street festival and Schooner felt proud to be a part of the doctor’s important work.

Their accommodations were simple, cots had been set up for them in the schoolhouse. Schooner was struck by how little the people had and how little they needed. There wasn’t much in the way of industry, one coffee house/gathering spot in town (mostly for ex-pats) and a general-type store, several places of worship, a school and the new hospital, which would serve a large area in the southern region of the country. That was all they had and they didn’t appear to need more. The people seemed content and happy. It struck him that their happiness was not contingent upon having a lot. It was just about being.

Schooner spent the first few days unpacking supplies and helping the medical staff set up. The word was out of their arrival and natives from near and far began to arrive. There were so many orthopedic issues ranging from small crippled children to the arthritic elderly. The doctors saw as many patients as they physically could in a day. The Ophthalmologists, Dentists and prosthetic specialists with them were equally stretched with their caseloads.

After a few days, Schooner approached Malcolm, “Dr. F., I’ve been thinking about how I could be of most help here and what I’ve noticed is that people are coming long distances for care and they are bringing their children with them, who then have to wait for hours with their parents. Maybe I could take the kids and do a sports camp with them to keep them busy while their parents are getting medical attention. I could teach them how to play soccer — I don’t need my hands for that.” Schooner held up his casted hand.

Malcolm clapped Schooner on the back, “That is brilliant and will make things so much easier for the families. I love it. Do it!”

The first day, Schooner had four kids in his Sports Camp. He started the kids in the morning with stretching, mat exercises and running. Then they started working on the basics of soccer. Within a few days, Schooner’s camp not only encompassed kids whose families were seeking medical treatment, but local village children were waiting every morning for the big blonde instructor they called “Coach.” There were nine local children, six boys and three girls, who became the core of Schooner’s camp. They were there before everyone arrived in the morning, setting up the exercise mats and the makeshift soccer goals and the last to leave at night, after they broke down camp.

This core group would go to the hospital everyday and find the children that were waiting with their parents and escort them to camp. They also became expert recruiters within their village and soon Schooner had enough participants to form teams. With the help of hospital staff, he also taught the children about lifesaving techniques such as oral-rehydration therapy and CPR.

At night he would fall onto his cot, exhausted, but his mind would race a million miles an hour. He wondered where she was, what she was doing, was she thinking about him, did she miss him, did she hurt as much as he did, was her heart missing a huge chunk too, did she still love him? And the same question always plagued him — why? Why did she leave without a word? What had happened? What changed everything?

He wanted to remember every detail of this trip so that he could share it with her. She would have loved the village and the people, especially the children. He imagined her finding photographic images in all that surrounded her.

And every night before sleep finally saved him from the demons that haunted his heart, he would try and send her a message, “Come back to me. Just be there in August. We’ll make it right. Baby Girl, come back to me.”

On their last night in the village, Schooner held the “Macha Grand Soccer Tournament” and all the local families were on the sidelines cheering their children. Families brought food to share with the doctors and staff to thank them for their work. It was Macha’s first sports event/tailgate party.

One of the village elders, Levi Mambwe, sat down next to Schooner. “You seem to have found your calling.”

“Maybe so.” Schooner agreed.

“You have a passion for this. You are a born leader, Coach Schooner. You have made a lasting impact on the children of Macha. You have taught them the importance of exercise on health and have made learning fun for them. It is a gift. Follow your passion and share your gift.”

The next morning they left Macha for the last time. The children followed them to the edge of the village waving after them. Schooner was surprised at how sad he was to leave the simple village. He thought about Levi’s words from the night before and thought that they had given him as much, if not more, than he had given to them.

The last leg of the journey was to Livingstone to see Victoria Falls — the largest waterfall in the world. They drove to the Zimbabwe border and followed the Zambezi River to the falls. Hiking down paths through the rainforest, every so often they captured glimpses of the magnificent falls whose roar filled the air with its growling magic. When they came to the Knife Edge Bridge, they were afforded a full view of nature’s majesty and force.

Schooner stood there in awe trying to mentally etch the image into his mind and then parked his Nikon on the railing, using it as a makeshift tripod, a trick he had learned at another waterfall. White clouds stood in relief against an azure blue sky. Schooner adjusted his circular polarizing filter so that the clouds would pop out against the dark sky. He shot short exposures and long exposures knowing that the effects would be very different. I did listen, Baby Girl when you tried to teach me this stuff, he thought. Before they hiked back to the Jeep, he had Malcolm shoot a picture of him with the falls in the background.

He thought that shot might make a great gift.

Schooner dropped his bags off in his dorm room and headed out to The Quad. He was amazed at how many people he knew as he walked toward Mia’s dorm. Everyone wanted to stop and say hello, ask about his summer and ask about his casted hand. All he wanted to do was get across campus. He had waited for this day since May. Today he would get his answers.

He got to her dorm and took a deep breath as he walked through the front door. In the lobby were several people he knew (since he had basically been a resident there Spring Semester). Everyone wanted to know about his hand. The new freshman girls were checking him out, trying to catch his eye.

He finally made it through the lobby and up the stairwell. And there he was standing outside her door. He reminded himself to breathe. His hands were shaking as he knocked on the door with his good hand.

The door opened and Caroline stood there, “Schooner!” She gave him a big hug.

“Hey Caroline! How was your summer?”

It was then he noticed the girl with the short blonde hair putting her stuff out on Mia’s desk. She stopped when she saw Schooner and gave him a bright smile, “Hi, I’m Alison.”

“Hi. Schooner.”

He turned to Caroline, “Where’s Mia?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you would tell me. We were supposed to room together,” she looked concerned.

“Did you hear from her at all this summer?” Please say yes, a voice inside him begged.

“Not a word. Didn’t you spend the summer with her?” Her confusion was apparent.

He shook his head, “She bailed before I had a chance to say goodbye to her that last day.”

“No fucking way,” she ran her hands through her hair as if she was thinking something and then just shook her head, “what did you do to your hand?”

“These walls are made of cement.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, “You didn’t.”

He nodded his head, “Yeah, I did.”

He could see the pain on her face as she realized something went very wrong for two people who seemed hopelessly in love with one another. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and left the room.

He checked both Rosie and Henry’s rooms, but neither of them were there.

Beau was still not in their room when he got back and he was glad. He was not up for answering any more questions about his hand.

He opened his backpack and grabbed an oversized envelope. Inside were photos of his soccer team, village huts, Victoria Falls and the photo Dr. F. had taken of him in front of the falls. He’d had them made for Mia. He wanted to share his journey with her and his photography, a now common passion he was looking forward to sharing with her.

With the envelope in hand, he headed for the Dining Hall. Maybe there he’d finally get the answers he wanted.

He stood at the entrance surveying the crowd. Where were they? And then he saw Henry waving to get his attention, a huge smile on his face and Schooner felt relief. He maneuvered through the crowd to get to Henry’s table.

“Hey man!” They hugged.

Rosie stood and her arms went around Schooner, surprising him, “Schooner.” He gave her a tight hug.

Before they could ask about his hand, he blurted out, “Where’s Mia?”

“She’s not back.” Henry shrugged.

“What do you mean she’s not back? What is going on?” He didn’t know it was going to hurt so much again this time, as his heart started to crumble for a second time.

“When she wasn’t in her room and Caroline didn’t know where she was, we asked the dorm director and he said she wasn’t on the list of returning students.” Rosie was as clearly in the dark as he was.