

The Light In The Darkness Series ~ Book 2

A Tale Of Choice

Alexa Stewart

Bryne Press

Published by Byrne Press at Smashwords

© 2012 by Alexa Stewart. All rights reserved.

First Edition

Bryne Press functions only as book publisher. As such, the ultimate design, content, editorial accuracy, and views expressed or implied in this work are those of the author.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without the prior permission of the copyright holder, except as provided by USA copyright law.

This publication is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or publisher.

Unless otherwise noted, all Scriptures are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com.

Scripture references marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

ISBN 13: 978-1-4675-3468-0  
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2012944589

Dedicated to those who love our Savior and strive to do GOoD   
in this world serving GOD.

Contents

Childless

The Gift

Mombasa

Making A Friend

Winds Of Ruin

Lost

The Bush

Finding A Way

The Farm

Going North

The Railway

Not Alone

Enguli Compound

Path Of Choice

Rescued

Found

Going Home

Epilogue

Author's Note

Other Books

Childless

FALL WAS COMING to an end in the Pacific Northwest. Flickering leaves of color quickly disappeared from the surrounding deciduous trees. The early morning sun rose into the frosty sky revealing a scene of dusted silver. Bright sun rays filtered through the icy windows of the Mica Peak Real Estate office, creating a warm glow over the desks and room. In that warm oasis sat a lovely, elegant woman in pain and sorrow, her head held in her hands. Shelly Ferguson was grieving the loss of a child that was not her own.

How do you survive the loss of a child? How? Tears slid down her cheeks and onto the wooden surface of the desk. In heartache she wondered, How do you get over losing a child that you have born in pain, stayed up countless nights to comfort and watch grow into a wonderful little boy? I can't see how it's possible, I just can't. Where are you in all of this, Lord? she questioned as she sat, trying to come to terms with the answers.

Her best friend, Ann, had just lost her three-year-old son, Matthew, in a horrible, senseless accident. Sean, Ann's ex-husband had taken the boy from his daycare center in a desperate attempt to force his will on others and possess the boy. In fleeing from the police he had wrapped his BMW around a utility pole and was killed. That day a very selfish man left this Earth never finding God. A few days later, a wonderful little boy followed... right into the arms of his Heavenly Father.

Matthew had been such a vibrant and loving child, she remembered the boy she had known all of his life. She had been there at his birth. She had been there through his mother's divorce. She had been there while Ann raised two young children alone, on a meager income. She had been there.

Shelly raised her head and wiped the tears from her eyes, looking at the clock on the office wall. She realized Ann would be walking through the office door any minute. Don't let her see that you're upset, she thought as she wiped her tear stained face again and tried to hide her grief.

Her thoughts turned to the familiar emptiness of her own barrenness. How incomplete she felt without children of her own. How that void had been filled with her love of Matthew. Now he was gone.

Why didn't God answer our prayers and save Matthew? she wondered. Doesn't He care? What has Ann done to deserve this? she asked in pain. She didn't understand any of it and the tears flowed again. The lack of answers made her feel separated from God somehow and that made it harder for her to help Ann.

I would die, just die if I was finally blessed with a child of my own, only to lose it before I left this Earth in death, she thought in misery.

Get a grip Shell! You'll be over this long before Ann will ever be. You need to be strong for her. She needs you... now more than ever. Don't let her see you crying!

Taking a firm grip on her emotions, she quickly got up and went to the restroom to freshen up. Splashing fresh, cold water on her face helped her resolve to hide her feelings. She took out her makeup bag, applied fresh face power to hide the tear stains, a new application of red lipstick to brighten her lips, and blush to put some color back onto her ashen face. Refreshed and resolved she returned to her desk looking for something to do... anything to keep herself busy and pre-occupied.

* * * *

Shelly was a tall, slender elegantly dressed professional. Her rich brown hair flowed softly over her shoulders, and framed her lovely amber eyes. She was always meticulously dressed and loved people, like a movie star loves fame. She went out of her way to help all those who came into her life and spent the extra time needed to assist wherever she could.

She was married to a wonderful man she had met in college by the name of James Ferguson. He was quiet, gentle and devoted to his wife. He was always bringing her small gifts to let her know he was thinking of her: a rose, a small piece of jewelry, or even a note of poetry telling her of his love and the gratefulness he felt that she was in his life.

Jim was what a man could be and should be. Sean, Ann's late ex-husband, was what a man should never be but often was, to one degree or another.

The Fergusons had been married for nine years. Not long into their marriage they discovered they couldn't have children. Their hearts were broken at first, but then they threw themselves into working with other people's children. Jim was in charge of the youth group at the Lakeside Presbyterian Church. He loved taking them on excursions and field trips as often as he could. He spent hours teaching, loving and entertaining them. In addition, the Fergusons spent several nights a week at the local youth center, volunteering their time as mentors to help the children learn to read, improve their math, or just help anyway they could.

Shelly and Jim opened their hearts to love the children God brought into their lives, but in truth, they ached for children of their own. A child to trip over, mend when ill, and watch grow into adulthood, a child that was theirs forever.

That is why both Shelly and Jim had opened that very special place in their hearts for Ann's children, a place reserved for a daughter and son. It was easy to come alongside the single mother and help raise her children. They had wonderful memories of playing, watching and providing for the two little ones. Now the emptiness in their hearts grew deeper and wider with the loss of Matthew.

* * * *

The front door opened as Ann walked through bringing the cold, crisp air with her.

"Good morning, Shell," Ann said as she entered, stamping her feet and rubbing her arms.

"How are you doing, Ann?" asked Shelly, concerned for her best friend and feeling a small echo of Ann's loss.

"I'm alright, I guess. I won't say it's easy, but I'm grateful to have God in this with me," she said with feeling. "I can only face it one day at a time. Do we have any new listings?" she asked her co-worker, trying to change the subject.

"Not this morning. I have a family coming this afternoon to look at the Tuvey property in Eaglemount. But sales are slowing down very fast for this time of year," Shelly answered with some concern.

"I know. If I don't get something moving soon, I may have to take out a loan to carry us through the winter. I'm not sure I can even get one," Ann said with unease.

"What a shame Sean had to come and disrupt your life so severely the last couple of months... bad timing all the way around," Shelly said with feeling. "How are you and your mother getting along?"

"You know Shell, it's going quite well. I'm surprised how well it's going. She listens to me now. I can see she is struggling not to say too much, which makes me so grateful to her for trying to step out of the control mode she has been in for most of her life. I just don't know how long it's going to last."

"It's too bad she can't stay permanently," Shelly offered. "She would be such a help with Marty and the apartment. Maybe her small income could help you with your bills, at least a little."

Ann thought about it for a minute. "Her meager income would be of some help, but I'm not comfortable making this a permanent arrangement yet. You know we haven't gotten along in the past because of her controlling personality. How can I be sure she has really changed, now? If I let her stay, she would have to give up the rent of her trailer so she could help me out. And that would leave us with no place to send her if we started fighting again. You know how hard it is to find low-income housing. I could be trapped in a very bad situation if I'm not careful."

"However, I have never seen this side of mom before," she continued. "She is really trying. My heart wants her to stay. Isn't it funny, but all of a sudden I see her as an elderly, frail woman and not the dominate powerhouse that controlled so much of my life. I can see she needs us and we are having so much fun with her around. I just want her to be safe and not so alone. Is that silly or what?" Ann sighed with indecision.

"Well, give it some time, Ann. You never know what's around the corner," Shelly replied, as she started pulling customer files for the day from her desk drawer.

Ann smiled knowingly. "Boy, isn't that the truth! Well, anyway, we have the time to work it out and I'm in no hurry to send her back to the trailer. Besides, she just got here!" she said with a smile.

Shelly and Ann put in a long day organizing the filing cabinets, cleaning the office and taking a few phone calls from people they called 'lookie-loos' -- the people who are dreaming of buying a home someday, but who can't quite afford it yet. The ones who hope to find a special deal... a miracle just for them.

Both women also phoned a list of rich, prospective clients who might be looking for additional investment properties, but nothing developed into a prospect. The housing market was closing down due to the bad weather. Winter was coming too soon.

As the day wore on, the two best friends sat talking, sharing each other's needs and desires. Shelly was talking to Ann again about adopting. It was a recurring theme Shelly enjoyed bringing up once in a while, to daydream about, and wonder what it would be like to have children in her home full time.

Ann didn't mind. She could see the joy and longing in her best friends expressions and gestures. She knew that someday God would answer Shelly's prayers for a child. She couldn't wait to see where, when and how He would provide.

How could Ann fathom that the winds of change, which stirred so gently right now for her friends, would blow so violent and deadly, before long?

The Gift

MONTHS WENT BY and life advanced. March was approaching quickly and Jim was eager to do something special for their 10th wedding anniversary. He thought long and deliberately about a special gift for his wife. Then a boyhood dream of his re-emerged. He'd always wanted to go on a safari in Africa. Thoughts of adventure, exotic lands, and animals returned to him. Wow, what a great idea! I wonder if we could really do it?

I don't see why not. I've the time and money now. Shelly could always rearrange her schedule to make it happen. Boy, if I can keep this a secret, won't she be surprised, he grinned smugly to himself in anticipation.

So, on his own and with thoughts of lions, cheetahs, elephants, giraffes, water buffalo, zebra and all kinds of animals parading through his mind, he went to the travel agency and planned their trip, picking out the location of the safari, the stops, the hotels, and all the details to make their anniversary special.

While he was there, the thought occurred to him that this would be an excellent opportunity to create a second honeymoon, someplace where he could find soft candle lit dinners and moonlight walks on the beach. So, in addition to picking the Maasai Mara Game Reserve in Kenya for their safari, he found an elegant and romantic place to take his wife for a few days, before their arduous week in the wilds. He'd start their journey in Mombasa.

Mombasa. An island that held the old capital city of Kenya, with its past seeped in exotic tales of the spice trade, in which the Portuguese and English took turns controlling.

He chose the "Mombasa Imperial Hotel", an old beautiful colonial hotel, from the turn of the century. This five-star hotel was situated magnificently off the white sandy shores of the Indian Ocean. They would have aqua-blue water to swim in, or they could rent a sail boat and explore the bay. Shelly would love shopping in Old Town or exploring the history of the area.

Then after three days in Mombasa, Jim would rent a Jeep and they would travel the Mombasa Highway through the rolling grass-lands and scrub-tree forest that rose from the beaches into the mountains of Kenya. That ribbon of road, called Route A109 on the maps, wound its way through the Tsavo National Park, right next door to the country of Tanzania and the home of Mount Kilimanjaro. They would pass through the Chyulu Hills until they reached the capital of Kenya, Nairobi, where they would meet up with the touring group for their safari and the Maasai Mara journey would begin.

As he sat in his chair and visualized the ride in the open Jeep, he saw a large smile on his wife's face, wild birds flying from the trees overhead, and even a group of elephants, zebras or wildebeests attempting to cross the road, perhaps. The more he planned, the more his excitement grew.

As the day of their anniversary drew near, he fought heroically to hide his feelings. He was so afraid he would give away the surprise, but somehow he managed not to.

Finally, the special event arrived. After a wonderful day together and a dinner out, he brought her home, sat her on the couch and brought out a crystal bowl of chocolate covered strawberries as a treat. He then poured sparkling apple cider into champagne glasses and made a wonderful, loving toast to their life together.

Shelly giggled. The excitement in her eyes mounted as she watched her husband bring out a huge box and set it on the coffee table. But, before she opened her present, she mysteriously brought out her own gift from under the couch cushion. Jim opened it with delight and read her card with a happiness that only comes from two people loving each other in mutual respect and devotion. A Rolex watch! Wow, with time zones and everything! He was well pleased.

Finally it was Shelly's turn. Jim watched in anticipation as she opened the large box with the small envelope containing the tentative reservations and agenda for their trip. It was buried deep inside multiple boxes wrapped in colorful ribbons and wrapping papers. It had taken him hours to wrap and the pleasure had grown as he hid the prize deeper and deeper inside each box.

He watched his wife with childish glee as she unwrapped the present only to discover another ornate box inside. He chuckled as he watched her mix of frustration and excitement mount.

Suddenly it occurred to him... What if she doesn't want to go to Africa? What about the safari? Will she be willing to rough it? She's so meticulous and neat, as a rule. There's going to be dust, mud, bugs... and who knows what else!

All of a sudden, doubts flitted through his mind. It was a lifelong dream for him, but how would Shelly receive it? How could he not have asked her? He felt so close to her, it never occurred to him that she wouldn't want to go!

With a big sigh of relief, he accepted her squeal of glee and heartfelt hug as a YES, when she finally opened the envelope with his dream in it.

In the following days Shelly rearranged her work schedule, while Jim bought their airline tickets and confirmed their reservations. She spent hours on the internet, investigating what to bring on a safari. It amazed her how dangerous it seemed to be. There were so many poisonous snakes in Africa! Dozens... the list just went on and on. How am I going to see them, before they attack? Nearly every one of them is instant death and always seems to include viper in its name. And what are they doing in the trees, yet? No way am I going to walk under any tree that might be the home to snakes with names like Boomslang, Puff Adder, Gaboon Viper and Bush Viper, let alone looking for cobras in the grass!

Then she saw the information about the green and black mambas!

It read: "The mamba is the dreaded snake species of Africa. Treat it with great respect. It is considered one of the most dangerous snakes known. Not only is it highly venomous but it is aggressive and its victim has little chance to escape from a bite".

Shelly sat shocked in front of the computer screen and read on. There was the water issue. You needed iodine tablets to treat any local water, unless you brought bottled water with you. Oh, and malaria! Why not? Bring it on! How could I forget that? The mosquitoes were everywhere, with all kinds of diseases. Of course, she was aware of the many animals that could eat her, trample her, or just plain scare her to death!

Shelly sat there trembling and thought... why am I going on this trip again? Oh, yeah, Jim... my wonderful Jim.

She tried to smile, then took a deep breath, jumped up from the computer and went running to find him, while trying to get the shriek out of her voice as she called "Jim! Jim! Where are you?"

He reassured her that these dangerous denizens were far and few between, in such a large country as Africa. People worked, played and lived in this land and seemed to survive just fine. Besides, they would be among guides whose job it was to protect them.

They would each take a fanny pack to carry the iodine tablets, rehydration salts, ChapStick, insect repellent, sunscreen lotion and a small first-aid kit. They would both have a hat for the sun and would wear long sleeve shirts to protect them from tsetse flies, mosquitoes and other biting insects. These shirts would also keep them warm at night, when the temperatures might drop dramatically after sunset. But most of all, their guides would have really big guns to ward off all the carnivores that didn't happen to have lunch that day.

"I'm supposed to bring old tennis shoes for the shower!" she added with distress as she read the survival list for the safari. "I don't own any tennis shoes, let alone old ones," she complained to Jim, for Shelly wasn't the outdoor type.

"Well, now is a good time to get some and break them in. You can get them wet and slog around the house to practice," he said teasingly... and so she did.

Shelly and Jim looked at all the photos of Kenya they could find. They spent hours talking about it, envisioning what it was like there. Deep in their hearts they knew it was going to be so much more than they could imagine, even with their enthusiasm. With prayer and love for her husband in her heart, Shelly allowed Jim's excitement to replace her apprehension, and finally the day to pack arrived.

"Are you all packed?" she asked Jim as he walked into their bedroom. She was leaning over her second suitcase, packing the last of her things.

"Yes, all done hours ago. But I thought we were going to pack light and only bring one suitcase each. You know what a hassle it'll be to carry too much on a trip like this," he said with a knowing smile.

Jim's idea was to pack wisely and sparingly so that each suitcase could fit in the overhead bin on the airplane. That way, they could quickly disembark the aircraft, be one of the first to go through customs while avoiding the baggage lines, and then get to their hotel before the lines formed at the counter.

Shelly stood tall and looked at the man she loved. "I know, but I want to be sure I have everything I might need," she said with a thought wrinkle in her forehead.

"Well, if we get stuck in a long line or miss our connections because we've too much to carry, don't look to me for very much sympathy," he said as he walked over and gave her a hug.

"Oh, all right... It's just so darn hard!" she said with an exasperated sigh. Then she mumbled softly to herself, "Darn, darn, darn," as she pulled out all her clothes from each suitcase and started organizing them again.

Eventually she emerged from the bedroom with a triumphant smile on her face and one suitcase in her hand. Her eyes glittered with excitement and anticipation.

The day of departure soon arrived. Mr. Fuzzy, Jim and Shelly's jet black Persian cat with enormous, yellow eyes, had been relocated to Ann's small apartment the night before, into the loving arms of Marty. As the taxi pulled up, Jim locked up the house and followed his wife to the waiting vehicle. The cab driver put their luggage in the trunk and then backed out into the street. Shelly's heart started to skip with excitement as she mentally went through her checklist again, reassuring herself that they had everything. The taxi drove them down familiar streets to the airport. Their journey to the land of mystery and adventure was about to begin. Africa! Just the thought of it made her smile broader.

The first leg of their trip took them from Spokane, Washington to Chicago, Illinois, a 5-hour flight on a Boeing 777. Storms over the Great Plains caused a time-consuming diversion around the worst of them, resulting in their 2-hour layover in Chicago turning into a fifteen minute panic through security and a five minute dash for the international departure gate to catch their flight to Amsterdam.

As they sprinted down the wide, busy hallways of the airport and through the empty boarding room, they spotted the flight attendant just starting to close the passageway doors. Yelling and waiving their boarding passes, the flight attendant stopped, waited, quickly scanned their papers and waved them through in time for their flight over the Atlantic and the next leg of their journey.

The Atlantic flight would be the longest at fifteen hours. The Continental Boeing 747 departed Chicago at 6:25 that evening and landed in the Netherlands at 9:25 the next morning. Jim knew that although they would try to sleep during the flight, it wouldn't be easy. So, though his heart was anxious to get to Kenya, he had planned a one-day stopover. He knew Shelly would be exhausted... and truthfully, he probably would be too. After landing in the beautiful old city of Amsterdam, they found their hotel, took a shower and a long nap. By early afternoon, Jim and Shelly were exploring the old world town, admiring the architecture, tree-lined sidewalks of the city, and its canals.

The waterways where everywhere, with boats of every color and size floating at their moorings by the water's edge. Numerous barges and water traffic journeyed here and there. Side-by-side ornate houses rose four and five stories into the sky on either side of the waterways creating populated walls which overlooked the scene below.

The river was so fascinating. The Fergusons sat under the flowering, spring trees on an old bench watching the activity. They strolled among the shops finding clothing, souvenirs, art, and candy of all kinds. It was hard not to buy everything they saw, but Jim reminded Shelly that they wouldn't be able to take very much with them, the next day. They had dinner on a picturesque riverboat as it toured the old city.

That night, they lay on their bed listening to the city noises through the open window in an unfamiliar room, in a foreign city, in a country that was not their own. With a wonderful day of memories, a good meal, and the fatigue of the journey starting to take its toll, they fell asleep.

The next morning, refreshed, they ate a late breakfast at the hotel and signed out of their room. A taxi took them around the city for several hours, seeing as much of it as possible. Their taxi driver enjoyed giving them a personal tour of the town he loved. Then he dropped them off at the Kenyan Airways Terminal, at the Amsterdam Airport, in plenty of time to catch their flight.

With the Fergusons on board, the jet taxied to the end of the runway, revved its huge engines and hurled itself at a terrifying speed down the runway, into the evening air headed at last for Mombasa, on time and without incident at 8:35 that night. Now, the last leg of their journey had begun. In ten hours, they would be landing in the African sector of the equator, at the Moi International Airport, in Mombasa.

Just the name brought a thrill to Jim's heart. "Mombasa." He loved to say the three syllables over and over again. He hardly slept that night. The excitement was so much like the Christmas Eve nights of his youth, the sleeplessness, the excitement of seeing what the morning would bring, and the gifts to come.

Mombasa

AT 6:30 IN the morning, after a long flight, the Boeing 767 swung out of the puffy white clouds into the early morning light, descending slowly over the crystal aqua-blue waters of the Indian Ocean. Shelly could see what she thought was Old Town on the island. Rusty metal roofs covered cream and pink plastered buildings, giving that part of the city a Mediterranean look. The island was surrounded by a large body of water filled with boats of all types.

As the flight landed at the international airport, the sun rose above the horizon, a large brilliant orb shining through the orange haze. The Kenyan Airways jet came to a halt on the tarmac next to the airport terminal and a large staircase was brought out and pushed next to the modern aircraft. As the passengers unbuckled their seatbelts and grabbed their luggage from the overhead bins, Shelly's heart started to pound. Glancing at Jim she saw the biggest grin on his face she'd ever seen, his eyes shining with excitement. They made sure they had everything. Then he pulled her into a big hug as he whispered in her ear, "We're here. We're really here!"

Warm air and exotic smells filled the air and blew softly around them as they descended the steps to the tarmac below. After a quick customs entry process, they eagerly traversed the terminal building, their feet softly echoing on the tiled floor. Opening the double doors to the outside, they stepped through, entering through a portal to another world... into Africa, where the land of Kenya lay and the city of Mombasa stood silhouetted against the morning sky.

Their African adventure had begun. They looked at each other for just a second in wonder and then turned to find the taxi stand. They could hardly wait to explore this exotic land further. A taxi driver rushed over to take their luggage and Jim asked to be taken to the "Mombasa Imperial Hotel".

The Fergusons sat back-to-back in the cab as they peered out their own windows, at the strange new world going by. As they passed from the open fields of the airport and traveled toward the Makupa Causeway, the mixture of poverty and decay they saw was startling. Old dirty buildings in pealing and faded colors were roofed with patched corrugated metal in various stages of rust. They passed by dirt floor lean-tos with thatched roofs and old tires lying neglected in the dust. Decrepit buildings with crumbling banisters, dilapidated stairs, broken windows and doors hanging off their hinges, were everywhere. Vibrant colored clothes hung on lines strung from windows, poles and doorways, adding to the colorful clutter of signs, junk and debris that littered the area.

The faded, worn housing spread into the city of Mombasa like an illness no one bothered to cure. Yet, as the taxi traveled further, the old began to mix with the new. Old buildings with history stood among new ones with history to come. White buildings of all sizes and shapes rose from the dust. Sidewalks started to appear and the streets widened into large boulevards with grass and tree-lined medians. Exotic trees, bushes and flowers decorated the city delightfully. Skyscrapers could be seen in the distant heart of Mombasa, yet the old and worn wasn't far away.

People, sprinkled along the way at first, swelled into a flood of colorful humanity. They stood in clusters outside of doorways talking, or moving in various streams of movement to some unknown destination. Walking, biking, pushing carts or driving small compact cars in various stages of disrepair, they moved along the streets and sidewalks. It was like driving through a sea of humanity. Horns honked, brakes squealed, and yet everyone seemed to make it to their destination intact, at least Shelly hoped so.

The taxi drove along Moi Avenue and Shelly gasped as she saw giant tusks rising into the sky, situated like giant crossed swords that traffic drove through; a monument to Princess Margaret's visit in 1956, according to the driver. She was so ready to get to the hotel and explore this town. A few minutes later, there it was... sitting on the white shores of Mombasa Bay.

The "Mombasa Imperial Hotel" was built in the late nineteenth century during the British occupation of Kenya and before the building of the railroad from Mombasa to Kisumu, on Lake Victoria in 1901. Mombasa had been the capital at that time, until its liberation from British rule in 1963. Then the capital moved to Nairobi.

The hotel stood in the African sun like an old, ornate, alabaster box. A large portico with stately columns sheltered a wide curved driveway made of cobblestones. The portico was attached to an open breezeway that passed through gardens on its way to an expansive open-air entryway into the hotel.

The taxi followed the graceful curve of the driveway, which circled a groomed lawn with palm trees, to stop under the massive portico. Shelly and Jim got out of the cab, gazing in wonder at the carved balustrades on the second story balcony and the ornate venting above the main lobby of the hotel. They paid and thanked their driver, picked up their suitcases, and walked on the stone floor under the breezeway, enjoying the fragrance softly rising from the gardens.

The entrance to the lobby was wide open to the outside world, with no walls or doors. On either side of this expansive entrance, arched openings allowed the plants from the gardens to stretch their arms inside.

As they entered, Shelly could see large stone columns rising from the stone floor to the second story ceiling, high aloft. Light filtered through the ornate vents allowing the warm air to rise and exit the building, leaving the large cavernous room cool and refreshing. Large potted palms, gently stirred by the sea breeze that blew through the lobby, stood next to each column that supported the giant roof. A matching entrance across the lobby revealed the white sandy beach and aqua-blue sea beyond. The reception counter was made of a dark, rich, highly polished wood, elegant and stately.

Shelly tried to envision what this hotel might have been like at the turn of the century, when it was new. She imagined elegant ladies in long flowing gowns and gentlemen in tall fashion, arriving in stylish horse-drawn carriages with their maids and menservants.

She sighed and stood next to her husband at the counter as he signed them into the hotel. She glanced outside and watched the crystal waves rolling onto the beautiful white beach. When Jim was done, they were directed to their room on the second floor. He had reserved the bridal suite as a surprise and her excitement at seeing such a special room started to mingle with the joy she felt for this gentle man she loved so much. How could this day get any better? she wondered with a happy sigh.

The Fergusons followed their porter down the cool wide hall to an old wrought-iron caged elevator.

Shelly looked at the aged relic in shock and dismay. Not liking the look of the old contraption, she reached for Jim's arm and whispered, "Let's take the stairs! It'll be good for our legs!"

Jim had a knowing smile on his face. He told the porter, "We're going to take the stairs, if that's okay with you? We'll meet you at the top."

The porter nodded his consent as Jim took Shelly's hand and they bound up the stairs that spiraled around the elevator shaft. They were standing at the top of the stairs giggling and talking to each other softly when the old machine creaked its way slowly, oh so very slowly, up to the second floor.

Soon they were following their guide down the long, wide hall to its very end. As the door was unlocked to the bridal suite, Shelly was thrilled to see a high-vaulted ceiling over a large spacious room with marble floors. At the far end of the room stood louver plantation doors that opened to a private balcony overlooking the sea. Jim tipped the porter and thanked him for his help. Then the Fergusons were left alone to explore their room, the balcony and before long the new world they had come to see.

As they opened the balcony doors and shuttered windows to their room, the soft shear curtains stirred in the ocean breeze. Jim turned on the palm ceiling fan which slowly started revolving overhead. This beautiful room was decorated with tropical wicker furniture, painted white and adorned with overstuffed pillows. The cushions were decorated with large palm and floral designs.

Another set of plantation doors to the right of this room opened onto the bedroom. When they were opened, a large elaborate four-poster bed made of dark rich wood, draped in white mosquito netting, was revealed. White crisp linens on the bed made the room appear clean and welcoming in this warm tropical setting off the African ocean. A clean, fresh-looking bathroom of white marble opened off to the right of this special room. A white wicker chair with a tall oval back welcomed Shelly's purse as she rushed past it to open another set of plantation doors. These also opened onto the balcony overlooking the sea.

Though there was a gentle breeze on the landing, it was muggy and the Fergusons weren't used to the humidity of the tropics, yet. As they stood on the balcony, Jim's arm around Shelly's shoulders and Shelly's arm wrapped around his waist, watching the wonderful waves spill onto the soft white sand below, a yearning started to grow.

They exchanged a knowing look between them, then turned and ran into the bedroom, changed into their bathing suits, grabbed the hotel towels and, not forgetting to take the key to their lovely room, ran down the stairs, briefly slowing to a sedate walk through the lobby and out onto the back veranda of the hotel, only to run the rest of the way to the beach beyond, tossing their towels and key on the sand, as they flew into the wonderful, cool, inviting water rolling onto the shore.

They returned hours later, too long in the water and without sunscreen, but with laughter lines on their faces that couldn't be erased. Gently placing lotion on each other, they gingerly dressed for an expedition into town to find lunch and to explore their new surroundings.

After lunch and a long walk around the local shops and factories, they returned to their room, hot and worn out. Shelly and Jim took turns taking a cold shower, though cold may not have been the right word for the water temperature coming from the showerhead. Maybe it was the combination of the water being stored in the tropics and the hot skin and sore muscles that caused the water to feel so tepid, but nevertheless, it was soothing.

Soon the bed was calling their names and they laid down for a short nap, only to sleep soundly and deeply, late into the evening.

Once they woke, they found the stars shining by the millions in the black sky and the moon rising over the water, large and crystal bright. The river of light from the silver orb rippled over the dark expanse of ocean, the sound of the living water with its enteral rhythm resounding on the shore below.

Jim called the hotel operator and discovered that the hotel dining room was open quite late. In fact, it seemed that in the tropics, everyone dined late into the night. The Fergusons dressed in their one set of evening clothes, walked stiffly down the stairs, and down through the cool hall to the lobby.

Across the open expanse stood a small line of guests queued up at the doors of the dining room. The words "Kilimanjaro Room" was mounted elegantly above the open doors. Jim and Shelly joined the end of the line and stood next to each other in quiet and contented silence, holding hands and enjoying each other's company. Soon they were led into the dining room by a tall, elegantly dressed maître d'. Shelly thought that he looked like the photos she'd seen of the Maasai -- tall, regal and proud.

The dining room was vast and filled with hundreds of small tables, each possessing four chairs, a white table cloth, a small lit lamp and tropical flowers. All of the tables were set with white-boned china trimmed in gold, silver cutlery and crystal glassware. Though the room was immense, it wasn't overly crowded. Massive dark wood columns rose to the high ceiling. Potted palms strategically placed around the columns divided the little tables into cozy small clusters. Jim and Shelly were placed at a table near one of the immense columns. The planted palms provided a nice private corner for them to enjoy. After a quiet and elegant dinner, the couple walked back out to the lobby and onto the veranda at the back of the hotel. They sat in tall wicker chairs with soft cushions, watching the people stroll by and listening to the waves rolling ceaselessly onto the shore.

Dark, black shapes of boats, ships and barges of various sizes and shapes, lit by sparkling lights of assorted colors and types, cruised by in the dark to unknown destinations. Soft lights sprinkled the shoreline across the water like glitter, set in small clusters that reflected off the dark water.

Jim talked softly to his wife. He told her how much this trip meant to him and how much he loved her.

Shelly returned his affection and basked in the knowledge that she was the most fortunate women in the world to have him in her life.

Late that night, indeed into the early morning hours, they talked. Finally, they retired to their room, satisfied and happy in the memories they had made together on this, their first day in Mombasa.

Making A Friend

SHELLY AWOKE EARLY, despite the late hour they had gone to bed. Jim lay next to her, sleeping soundly and looking so rested and peaceful. After listening to his soft snoring for a while, she lifted the mosquito netting, gently and quietly swung her legs out of bed, slid to the floor and tip-toed to the bathroom. She dressed, wrote him a note and left it on the mirror.

It read: "Jim, I have a really big need for something sweet and a large cup of coffee. Can't wait any longer. I'll stay in the hotel. See you downstairs if you get up before I get back. Hugs and kisses... XXXOOOXOX."

Half an hour later, she was happily licking her fingers from the gooey cinnamon roll and finishing her coffee when she realized she hadn't taken her room key with her. Darn! Maybe Jim is up by now. I don't want to wake him if he's still sleeping, though.

As she walked up the stairs and back to her room, she noticed a maid in the hall.

"Pardon me, miss. But I've forgotten my key. Is there a way you can let me into room 201?" Shelly asked.

The maid was of medium build, slender and with the delicate features of the East Africans. She looked at Shelly with a questioning look and asked, "What is your name, please?"

"Mrs. James Ferguson," replied Shelly.

The maid verified the name on a list she'd taken out of her pocket. Shelly must have appeared trustworthy, for the maid took one more look at her and then offered to let her into the room.

As they walked down the hall, the maid asked in excellent English, "Are you from the states?"

"Yes, my husband and I are from the Northwest," Shelly replied.

"Where in the Northwest?" asked the maid with some curiosity.

"We live in Washington state, in the town of Mica," responded Shelly.

"Is that near Seattle?" inquired the maid excitedly.

"No. Mica is on the other side of the state. It's near Spokane, Washington," Shelly offered warmly.

"Oh, I went to the University of Washington for four years," the maid offered the information with great pride. "I just graduated last year. My name is Mattie Undomo."

"Glad to meet you, Mattie," Shelly said, shaking her hand eagerly. "What a small world. My husband and I met at the U of W a little over 10 years ago," Shelly said with a large smile.

Mattie opened the door for her and suggested softly, "I would love to get together with you sometime and talk about America. I hope to be able to return someday and work there. Would you be interested in seeing my home across the bay? My family is having a birthday party for my Uncle Jumo tonight. I know they would love to visit with you and your husband... you're very welcome to come," she concluded.

Shelly thought for a second and replied, "We wouldn't want to intrude. How about lunch together sometime?"

"I would like that," Mattie replied.

"What would you like?" asked Jim to no one in particular, as he emerged from the bedroom all dressed for a stroll after breakfast.

"Jim, this is Mattie... Undomo?" Shelly asked Mattie with her eyes, as she looked at the maid to confirm her introduction.

Mattie nodded her head in agreement, "Glad to meet you, Mr. Ferguson," she said with a big smile as she shook his hand.

"Call me Jim," he replied happily. She seems very nice, he thought to himself with a grin.

Mattie repeated her invitation to come to a real Kenyan birthday party. She explained that her entire family had gotten together to send her to the states for an education. America was their favorite subject. It would be a real thrill for them to meet the Fergusons and Mattie would be so excited to tell them they would be having American guests tonight at her uncle's birthday party. Besides... she was eager to talk about the University and going back to America someday.

"Let us think about it, Mattie," Jim said gently. "We'll contact the desk and leave you a message, if that's all right?"

"That would be great. I get off work at 4:30 today. I have a boat down at the hotel dock. We can go across to my uncle's house, where I am living. It takes only twenty minutes to cross. It is a good boat and I would be happy to bring you back after the party," she offered.

They thanked Mattie for her invitation and said goodbye as she went back to work.

As the happy couple left their room and started down the stairs, Jim looked at his wife with a smirk on his face and joked, "So you couldn't wait for me, huh? Had to have breakfast without me," he said with a sad puppy-dog pout on his face.

Shelly showed a big smile and said expressively, "That was just the appetizer! I'm ready for a real breakfast now!"

Jim laughed as they raced each other down the hall, into the lobby, where they slowed to a leisurely walk to the Kilimanjaro Room and that big breakfast.

When they were done, they sipped coffee and talked about what they wanted to do for the rest of the day. They wondered if they should consider going with Mattie that night to her home. But how could they? It would be nice to see Kenya from a local point of view, but in America, you just didn't go anywhere with a total stranger, no matter how inviting. What did people do here? Was it the same everywhere? Jim decided to ask the hotel manager.

Mrs. Omondi was a gracious lady in her sixty's, pleasantly plump, with salt and pepper hair tightly braided and wrapped neatly at the base of her neck. She was of Bantu descent and had been the manager of this wonderful hotel for twenty years.

"I would be very happy to recommend Mattie and all of her relatives," she told the Fergusons. "I have known the Undomo family all of my life. Many of us have gone to school together. They are a large, honest, hard-working family who just adores America. You may not be able to talk about anything else while you are there, but I know you will have a wonderful time. Their Uncle Jumo is a big, kind-hearted man. There will be lots of food and laughter, if I know anything about them," she stated. "Besides, I think you will find most Kenyans very accommodating and willing to help no matter where you are in my country. I can see no reason why you should not go and enjoy a local celebration," she concluded.

"Thank you, Mrs. Omondi, I think we will," he said after considering it and getting Shelly's agreement. "May I leave Mattie a message?"

"Yes, please do. I will see that she gets it," the manager offered.

Jim left a note. It stated that they would love to come to her uncle's birthday party and that they would be in the hotel lobby before 4:30 if she wanted to pick them up before she left for home.

Jim and Shelly spent the early part of the day shopping in a local woodcarving factory, then exploring the artist stands of jewelry, paintings, and all sorts of colorful items for sale along the sidewalks of the boulevards nearby. They had lunch in a beautiful local park overlooking the sea, where monkeys came down from the trees to beg tidbits from anyone who'd offer. Before they knew it, the time had come to return to the hotel.

That afternoon, on rolling, shimmering water, Mattie and the Fergusons left the hotel waterfront in a modest cabin cruiser, old but well kept, and started across the harbor for the far shore. Mattie deftly wove in and around the water traffic, bouncing over the waves and wakes in the 20-minute crossing to a small private dock. The air of the crossing was filled with the smell of the sea... salty water, fish, seaweed and diesel. As the boat neared Mattie's home, the aroma of outdoor cooking mingled with the sea air. A large throng of people could be seen crowding the small dock. It threatened to sink beneath the massive weight of the partygoers.

"They are so excited to meet Americans!" she shouted over the roar of the motor. "When I called to tell my Auntie that you were coming, my Uncle Jumo started yelling behind her. He said it was the best present he ever got, to meet you! Now I think all of the neighbors are there too!" she laughed with real happiness.

The evening was well spent, with good food, good people and good conversation. There was joking and teasing among the Undomo family, which included Jim and Shelly, making the couple feel welcome. The Fergusons indeed had to talk about America, but they learned something about Africa, as well.

They learned that Mattie's family was from the Kikuyu tribe. And for a while, the conversation centered on the customs of their people and how times had changed in Kenya for their community. Mattie shared how she wanted to return to the states to become a nurse. Her heart's desire was to help the sick no matter who they were. Uncle Jumo hoped to send her back to America in a year or two.

By midnight, the Fergusons started to say good night. It took more than a half an hour to shake hands, give hugs where hugs were offered, and tactfully reject all the food and gifts offered by their jovial hosts. Even as Jim and Shelly boarded the boat, Uncle Jumo just had to say goodbye one more time. Finally, Mattie told her family that she needed to get the Fergusons back to the hotel so she could return home and get some sleep. She had to work in the morning. Reluctantly, the Undomos said good night again and indicated that they hoped to see them again, someday.

Then, the little launch set sail for the hotel. Jim and Shelly sat comfortably in the stern of the boat. Jim had his arm around his wife and she laid her head on his shoulder. They watched the traffic on the water as billions of stars passed by overhead. They talked softly together as the little boat skimmed the black surface of the water, sending silver spray into the night air.

Before long they were coming alongside the wooden dock of the hotel. Disembarking, they said good night to their new friend, giving her a hug. Shelly had taken to this sweet-tempered girl with the big heart, like a long-lost sister. And with Jim's kind and gentle nature, he too had become fond of her.

The Fergusons stood on the pier waving and shouting their goodbyes to Mattie as long as they could. Finally the launch disappeared into the night and they were alone on the pier in the quiet, starry night. Silently they turned and strolled slowly to the hotel, hand-in-hand, savoring their wonderful night and the memories they had made, finishing their second day in Africa.

Exhausted, they ascended the stairs and walked down the hall to their room. Before long they were lying in the large, soft, clean bed with the plantation doors of the room wide open and the soft sea breeze flowing through their rooms. Nightly sounds of people talking, music playing somewhere off in the distance and the eternal sound of the sea added to the lulling sounds that put them into a restful sleep.

The next morning, Shelly woke up with Jim. They teased each other, fighting over the bathroom, as married couples can when they're having fun and enjoying their time together. They decided to find breakfast outside of the hotel that morning. They found Mrs. Omondi and she recommended a small coffee shop several blocks away called "The Stateside Café".

"It's run by a very nice couple, my niece and her husband, who have come to live here. They serve very good American food," she told them. "But please do not let the fact that they are related to me sway you in any way, for Jennie is an excellent cook and her husband is a very good businessman. It is a small, beautiful, very clean place with good prices. The reason that they are doing so well is due entirely to their good food and hard work and not to my recommending it to all who will listen," she said smiling broadly. Jim and Shelly delighted in her pride and walked the few blocks to the little café.

This was to be the Fergusons last full day in Mombasa. Tomorrow morning after breakfast, Jim and Shelly would sign out of their hotel and drive their rented Jeep to Nairobi. The safari started in the afternoon and Jim's anticipation was mounting. Mombasa was fading in his mind and the Maasai Mara began to call to him. He could hardly wait.

Shelly would miss this beautiful hotel and the exotic, romantic times they were experiencing. There would be no maid service in the Maasai Mara. It was going to be very different. I hope I'll like the lions, tigers and bears... she giggled sarcastically to herself.

"What would you like to do today?" Jim asked her, absentmindedly. They were seated in a nice comfortable booth, their good breakfast finished, sipping coffee.

"Can we see Fort Jesus today and explore its museum?" she asked. "I'd like to find out more about the Portuguese history and the spice trade that went through here. Then, let's have lunch somewhere in Old Town so I can do more SHOPPING," Jim's wife smirked with delight as she emphasized the last word and the unspoken threat of spending a lot of money.

Jim gave a knowing smile, for his wife always threatened to spend money, but in truth, she was the frugal one. He'd nothing to fear in that regard. What he didn't know was that something very special and expensive awaited his wife in Old Town that would play a pivotal role in their life to come.

"Will we have to rent a truck to haul all this stuff you're going to buy?" he teased her, pretending to be affronted.

"Of course!" she retorted happily.

After a long, enjoyable tour of the Fort, they wandered the streets of Old Town again. Then in a small shop of antiques, Shelly found a glass display case of old jewelry and artifacts. Among the earrings, bracelets and necklaces of years long past stood a beautiful collection of Catholic crosses, except for one cross.

This one was a lovely gold cross with the delicate design of a vine and blooming flowers engraved on it. The leaves and flowers were made of different types of colored gold which embellished the design as it entwined itself around the cross. It was the most striking cross she had ever seen.

When she asked the shop owner if he knew anything about it, he told her it had come from a fine, old, Portuguese family that had settled in the area hundreds of years ago during the Portuguese settlement of Mombasa. The spice merchant had built a large mansion on the tip of the island and owned a large fleet of ships. Shelly took to heart the image of the family coming from the old country, settling in a new strange world to set up a trading company, their old life mingling with the new, so long ago. She fell in love with the romantic ideas that floated through her mind and the knowledge she had gained at Fort Jesus that morning. She wondered how many women had worn this cross, what they were like, the lives they had led, and whether they had been happy. She learned that the shop owner had bought it from an estate sale when the last family member was no more.

Then she noticed the price and wavered. She turned to Jim with a questioning look on her face. He nodded his head in agreement.

He leaned over, gave her a hug and said softly in her ear, "I want you to have it. It's as special as you are."

Shelly looked again and then sighed in acceptance of the cost. "It really is so lovely."

That day, she became the proud new owner of a beautiful symbol of her faith and the history it carried with it. The shop owner gently placed it on cotton wool inside a tiny blue box which he secured with a golden cord. He placed the precious gift in a small black plastic bag with the shop name printed in silver letters. Jim and Shelly returned to the hotel with this small package held securely in her hand.

At the hotel counter, they received a note from Mattie.

It read: "Dear Jim and Shelly, Please allow me to take you out for dinner tonight, if you do not have any special plans. I would like to take you to the Tamarid Mombasa Restaurant at 6 o'clock. It is a very nice restaurant on the cliff overlooking the Old Harbor. I would like to give you good memories of our city before you leave tomorrow. You can leave word with Mrs. Omondi. If you cannot come, please know that I wish you well on your trip and hope to talk to you before you leave. Your new friend, Mattie Undomo."

"Well? What do you think? Do you want to go?" Jim asked his wife.

"Yes, please. I'd love to see Mattie again. Besides, we need to find a new place to dine tonight, if we don't want to end up in the hotel dining room again." she said lightheartedly.

Jim smiled warmly and turned to the attendant behind the counter. "Excuse me. But do you know anything about the Tamarid Mombasa Restaurant?" he asked.

"Yes, it is one of our finest restaurants. Some of our guests have told me they especially like eating out on the terrace overlooking the harbor. The view from there is breathtaking, I understand," the clerk replied.

"Ah. Is it very expensive?" Jim asked with some concern, for he knew a maid didn't make a lot of money, especially one who wanted to go back to the United States to become a nurse.

"Yes. It is a five-star restaurant," the clerk answered as Mrs. Omondi walked up to the counter.

The manager leaned over the counter and asked Jim to come closer with her finger. "I could not help overhearing," she said softly to him. "Mattie's eldest brother is the head chef at the Tamarid. The dinner will be on the house tonight, from what I understand. It has been all arranged, if you should desire to go," she told him.

"Are you sure it'll be all right? We can help with the cost," Jim offered.

"No, I do not believe that will be necessary. Please let Mattie do this for you. She would be embarrassed if she found out I told you about the arrangements, but I wanted you to know the situation. I know she would love to take you there. It is a very special treat for her as well, for she would not be able to eat there at all, if she had not gotten permission from her brother. A maid cannot afford such a place, normally," she said sadly.

"Then please tell her we would be happy to go. We'll meet her in the lobby at, say... 5:30?" he asked.

"That should work out fine. I will contact you if the plan needs to be changed. Please have a nice time. I hope you enjoy your last night in Mombasa. It should be a very special one," Mrs. Omondi smiled broadly.

That night, Jim escorted two beautiful women, one on either arm, to the elegant restaurant. Mattie was dressed in a beautiful strapless dress of embossed black silk with a long full skirt. Leopard style material banded the top of the dress in a beautiful accent representative of her country. White pearl earrings and necklace complemented the lovely girl.

Shelly wore a new golden gown covered in lovely dark brown, sheer gossamer fabric. The dark brown cloud of material was decorated with a small gold symmetrical border on the bottom of the skirt and at the top of the bodice. The skirt was cut in long slits that revealed the golden dress beneath when she moved. She had put her hair up in a soft French twist with a string of golden beads woven throughout.

With her new acquired tan, the lovely old cross resting over her heart, and the brown and golden dress accentuating her amber eyes, she appeared more like a lioness than an American tourist. Shelly was stunning. Jim saw her with new eyes, and his love for her grew deeper and more profound.

The restaurant was newly built in the 1970s in an Arabian style, with high arches and elegant dining. The meal was exquisite and wonderfully prepared. During the meal, Mattie's brother came out to introduce himself. "My name is Jonathan Undomo. Welcome to Mombasa, the Tamarid, and to my family," he said warmly as he gazed at his sister with affection. Her pride in her brother was evident by her smile. The small group talked warmly together for a few minutes and then he said his goodbyes to the Americans and returned to work.

That evening, the three enjoyed a delicious and memorable dinner, seated at a fine table overlooking the dark bay below. As they watched the city lights across the water compete with the heavenly lights above, the three talked well into the night.

Returning to the hotel, the Fergusons slowly walked Mattie down the dock to her boat, reluctant to say goodbye. And yet they must. There would be no opportunity to say goodbye in the morning. Jim and Shelly would be leaving very early and Mattie would be busy with her work. As they said their goodbyes they knew their last night in Mombasa had been an exceptional one, filled with wonderful memories.

The two Americans stood on the wooden structure, in the soft light of the lamp post, waving their farewells, as the little boat disappeared into the dark.

Winds Of Ruin

EARLY THE NEXT morning, just before the African sun rose into the sky, the Fergusons awoke with a start. They had overslept. They flew out of bed, washed quickly and packed hurriedly. They reached the hotel counter in time to check out of their room and meet the rental car agent with their Jeep. Once all the paperwork was done and Jim had the keys, he turned to the clerk and asked for a sheet of paper. He wrote a quick, short note to Mrs. Omondi, expressing his thanks for such a wonderful holiday at this grand old hotel and his desire to return someday.

Then he looked at his watch, trying to decide if they had enough time for a quick bite to eat before they traveled the 330 miles to Nairobi. They had to be there by 4 o'clock to meet the safari van. Jim wondered how good the roads were between the two cities. The hotel clerk assured him that the roads were paved all the way and they shouldn't have any problems reaching the capital, with time to spare.

"Let's go check with the waiter in the restaurant and see if he can get us something to eat in a hurry. I think we can spare a little time to eat some breakfast before we have to leave," Jim said to Shelly.

The Kilimanjaro Room was sparsely populated that morning. There were some businessmen in suits, with briefcases at their feet. A variety of families with children of assorted ages scattered around the restaurant, making plans for the day. The waiter assured Jim and Shelly that he could serve them quickly and that he would do his best to get them out of there within the half-hour allotment. So the Fergusons sat down one more time in the large cool room with the small white tables and ordered a quick bite to eat.

As soon as they sat down, Shelly's face turned white. A look of fear came over her face.

"What is it?" Jim asked concerned.

"I left my cross in the room! I'm sure I did. I placed it on the nightstand last night in its little box, right next to the lamp, so I wouldn't forget it this morning. But, I don't remember packing it!" she said with alarm. "I know I have left it!"

"Go and see if you can find Mattie or someone else to let you into the room. I'll wait here and if we have to, I'll have our breakfast put in a container so we can eat it on our way to Nairobi," he told his worried wife. "Don't worry. It should be just where you left it," he said with reassurance in his voice.

Shelly ran out of the restaurant and over to the hotel counter. She asked for help getting into the bridal suite to retrieve her precious cross. The clerk informed her that he was able to reach Mattie by the hotel service phone. She would meet her at the door to room 201 and let her in.

Shelly ran across the lobby, down the hall, flew up the stairs. There was Mattie, walking towards the special room that had been so beautiful and full of the most wonderful memories for her.

"Mattie!" called Shelly as she ran up to the maid.

"It is so nice to see you again, Shelly. I am glad I can say goodbye to you one more time before you go," her new friend said as she opened the door with a large smile.

Shelly ran into the bedroom and there it was, sitting just where she had left it the night before. She grabbed it and held it to her heart, so elated that she had found it.

"I better put this on!" she said with emotion.

She took it out of the box and pulled the chain over her head and threw the little box into the waste basket, for she wouldn't need it any more. She gave a big sigh of relief now that she was wearing it next to her heart where it belonged.

"Mattie, I'm sorry I must hurry back downstairs so quickly, but Jim and I need to get on the road soon. Thank you so much for helping me," Shelly told the girl as she gave her another hug.

"I'll write as soon as..." she was saying, when a loud explosion of firecrackers seemed to go off in the hotel. She could hear people shouting.

"What was that?" Shelly asked to no one in particular.

Then she could hear screaming far away in the building somewhere. Her heart couldn't quite register what was going on.

Mattie stood still as stone, her skin a chalky paste. Fear could be read in every feature of her body. "No..." she said softly and deeply, like a groan. "It cannot be..." her voice trailed off to nothing.

"Mattie! What is it?" Shelly demanded in fear, for she was terrified by Mattie's appearance.

"Come! Hurry!" Mattie said firmly as she grabbed Shelly's arm and pulled forcefully. "I have heard that sound before. Its machine guns! Something is very wrong. I must get you out of here, quickly!" Mattie said softly, so not to be overheard, but with no doubt of her purpose or resolve.

"No! No! Jim!" Shelly baulked at leaving him... ever!

"I must get you out of here and to a safe place. We will find Jim as soon as you are safe. We have no time. We must get out of here, now!" Mattie said resolutely, between her teeth, as she dragged Shelly from the room and to a service door in the hallway.

Shelly was about to pull away from Mattie's grip, when more gunfire and screaming could be heard down in the belly of the hotel. The sound weakened her resolve to stay and she allowed Mattie to pull her through the door and down a flight of stairs.

Shelly became lost in a mental fog.

What's going on?

Why?

What should I do?

Where's Jim?

Is he all right?

Where's Mattie taking me?

As they moved in slow motion through the service quarters of the hotel, they came to a door that opened to the outside. Once through that door, Shelly realized that if she turned right, she would be headed toward the front of the hotel, and if she turned left, the sea awaited her. She pulled her arm from Mattie's hold and turned right. Mattie was left standing in dismay as she watched the American run the wrong way! Shelly came to the corner of the hotel and stopped behind some bushes. Cautiously peeking through them she watched the chaotic scene on the driveway. There were jeeps and vehicles parked carelessly on the lawn and road. Two huge trucks with wooden benches in the back and a canvas top were parked in front of the hotel with gunman herding people into them. They were shouting and threatening everyone with horrible-looking weapons.

Shelly could see what looked like a body of a hotel employee laying in the walkway. He was wearing a hotel uniform. She watched in dismay and shock as a group of men were being loaded onto one truck, while women and children were being put into the other.

All of a sudden, Shelly could see Jim! His hands were clasped together, resting on his head. She could see he was looking around for her, she knew he was. As she started to go around the bush, Mattie stopped her with a firm hold. For Mattie had quietly come up behind her and hadn't left her side.

"You cannot help him, Shelly!" she said softly but firmly. "These are very cruel and dangerous men. We cannot do anything for now. We cannot!" she said resolutely and in fear.

Unexpectedly, a woman who had been crying became hysterical. She broke away from her captors and ran for someone in the other truck. Shots rang out. She was shot down in the road. The man who had shot her walked over to her and fired again into her head. Her body jerked once. She was dead, truly dead!

Crying could be heard from the women and children in the truck after the terrible sound of the gun died away. The gunmen started shouting orders again among the trauma and chaos, when a man in the other truck tried to go to the dead women, but he was gun-whipped into submission.

Shelly could see Jim's face was ashen and sickly as he continued to look for her.

They've killed her! Shelly thought in shock, this can't be happening. She is really dead. Dear God... her thoughts died away as the scene continued to unfold. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as her body trembled and tears flowed silently down her face.

What was she to do? This couldn't be real. The sun was still in the sky. It was just as it was the day before, but here in this place there was horror, evil and death.

Mattie pulled very hard on her arm this time. She hit Shelly hard on the face and said, "If we do not go now, death will find us!"

In shock and disbelief, she allowed Mattie to pull her away. The sight of that woman shot down in cold blood made her sick, retching sick. Raw fear was starting to take hold of her, as she listened to her heart beating in her ears. She was running now because she could do nothing else, for fear drove her.

They ran along the side of the building, over the lawn and across the sandy beach onto the dock. Why they were never stopped, only God knows, for they were out in the open and easily seen. Yet, they weren't challenged. Mattie jumped into her boat, dragging Shelly behind her. Shelly had no idea how she even got into the boat. Tears blinded her eyes as she grieved and feared for her husband, for Mattie and for life itself.

The sound of explosions and gunfire started to spread throughout the island. Screaming could be heard as buildings crumbled and fires rose into the sky. People were fleeing Mombasa as if the world had come to an end, and maybe it had. They were fleeing wherever they could, some into the water, others ran for their lives in the streets, but all were being killed where the gunman could find them. Truckloads of armed men continued to disperse into the streets as Mattie pulled away from the pier, the boat throttle pushed as far as it would go.

Gunshots rang out and whizzed past Shelly's head as she sat stunned in the back of the boat, too traumatized to keep her head down. Only by the grace of God did they escape. Rocket launchers were now being used to destroy anything on the water. Bodies were starting to float here and there as boats burned and sank.

Mattie's little boat disappeared into the smoke that started to drift over the sea. The sun faded into the haze, red and dying.

Lost

THE CROSSING WAS over before Shelly knew it. Mattie had taken the boat straight across the bay to her brother's house, a short 10-minute trip.

"Hurry, Shelly. My brother is away in Tanzania on a business trip. He left his car in the garage. We can use it to get out of town and to safety," she said as they ran up the private dock, to the back door of a small pink house with the red petunias blooming in the window boxes.

If there is any safety, Mattie thought to herself. Has a war broken out? I saw soldiers, but who are they? How big is the army? Where is the war, everywhere or just in Mombasa for now? Why are they killing everyone? Dear God save us!

These thoughts flitted through her mind as she found the key on her keychain and opened the back door to her brother's home. Mattie didn't share any of these thoughts with the American woman. She seemed so weak and defenseless. Mattie was determined to keep her safe.

In a flash, she found the keys to the little white Volvo parked in the attached garage. Mattie took a second to write a note to her brother, telling him that she had the car and that Mrs. James Ferguson was with her, and that they were going to try and make it out of town to find a safe place. She left him instructions to tell her Auntie and Uncle that she had made it this far and would contact them as soon as she could. She ended the note by saying: PLEASE PRAY FOR US.

Mattie grabbed some bottled water from the fridge and a box of crackers from the cupboard. As she got into the car and started it, she was relieved to see the fuel gauge registered FULL. She turned to see Shelly getting in the front seat beside her.

For just a second she hesitated, trying to make up her mind. Only a few years ago, rebels were robbing and killing along the roads of Kenya at night. It had been a while since that unrest had caused fear and hardship in her country. But, Shelly would be a prime target for any rebel or terrorist. She knew the hotel guests were probably being gathered up as hostages. Their governments would pay dearly to get them back, if they got them back at all.

"You need to hide in the back. I will put something over you. You cannot be found. They will kill you, or worse," she said with a grim look.

Shelly sat for a second with a bewildered look on her face.

"Hurry!" Mattie said firmly, with a tinge of fear. "I know it will be hot, but I will leave the windows open," Mattie said as she jumped from the car, ran into the living room and pulled off a large wall hanging made of lightweight native fabric from the wall.

Shelly was lying down on the back seat when Mattie quickly returned. She threw the fabric over her new friend, ran over, threw open the garage door and then pulled the car out. People were fleeing all around her. The traffic was frenzied and dangerous.

Booming sounds could be heard from across the bay. When will the fighting come here? Seconds? Hours? But come it will, Mattie understood.

Mattie jumped back into the car after slamming the garage door shut. As she backed out of the driveway, she could see a large military ship firing into Mombasa. Was the Kenyan military fighting the invaders? The horror of innocent people getting killed while the conflict raged only made her set her jaw more defiantly as she tore down the road, desperately weaving around fleeing people, and contending with frantic cars and trucks.

Mattie prayed and prayed as she drove away from Mombasa, heading northeast along the road toward the golf course. If she could make it to the beach road, it would take her north and out of town. Her goal was to eventually get to the Kengelani Road. That was the best way to go around the fighting, at least she hoped so. She knew it was only logical for the militants to try and hold both bridges onto the island. Oh, the poor people trapped there! She fought back tears for her people, for her family, her friends and for herself.

As she struggled toward the intersection between the golf course road and beach road, the traffic was becoming crammed into a nightmare of cars, trucks and frightened people. Slamming on her brakes, she took the nearest side street around the traffic jam, deftly driving along with others of the same mind.

Please Lord, let the roads be clear. Help us to find safety, she prayed.

Finally, as she turned down a less-traveled road that went in the desired direction, north, the traffic started to thin out.

Mattie was now making for Mariakani, a small town an hour north. There, she could link up with Route A109, the Mombasa Highway. This life line would take them straight through the heart of Kenya to the capital, and the American Embassy. For an image of the embassy had begun to grow in her mind. She could see American Marines at the gates with big guns and safety for Shelly behind the fortified walls. That would be the safest place to take her friend. The Americans would keep her safe and see that she got home, if God would grant it.

"I think it is alright to talk now," she said to her passenger in the back. "But do not show yourself!" she said firmly. "I do not know whose is watching and what will be around the next corner," she said as she continued speeding down the road a little too fast.

"Mattie, do you know what's going on?" Shelly asked in a soft frightened voice, peeking from under the fabric in the back seat.

"No, but my country has not always been a happy one. There are a lot of poor and desperate people who would join terrorists. Or maybe a warlord has raised an army to take over the government. It could even be a military coup. I just do not know. I do not know why they are killing everyone! I do not know who to trust or where I can go to be safe. What I do know is that if I can get you to the American Embassy in Nairobi, they will keep you safe. They will protect you and get you out of here," she said with conviction.

"No, Mattie... I can't leave Jim! Can't we just stop somewhere and get help? I need to find him!" she declared desperately from the backseat.

"No!" Mattie said firmly and with determination. "There is no safe place here, right now. And, if by God's grace your Jim is freed, they will take him straight to the embassy in Nairobi. It is the only place where we can go. It is the only thing we can do," She said resolutely, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Mattie, I'm sorry," Shelly whispered, as she watched the tears slide down her rescuer's face. Then she thought about Mattie's family. "Will your family be okay?" she asked with belated regret.

"I do not know. I just do not know," she said sorrowfully as she thought about how life could change so forcefully and suddenly. One day, everything is fine, and now... God only knows what lies ahead, who I have left to go back to, or if I will live to go back at all.

Silence ensued between the two women. What more could be said? Shelly so desperately wanted to find Jim, but how could she? She was a stranger here, with no means of getting help. Mattie was right. They must get to the American Embassy as quickly as possible. Shelly could get help there. They would know how to rescue her husband.

Shelly lay under the cloth of Kenya, dust drifting into the open windows of the car periodically as she cried silent tears, praying to God for help, feeling so lost and alone in this land that Jim loved so much.

Mattie drove on, silently, stone-faced, and determined to find a safe place.

About an hour out of Mombasa, traveling the back roads, the little dusty car neared Mariakani, a small town of about 13,000 souls. Traffic was becoming congested on the wide open streets as the terrified citizens from Mombasa and the surrounding areas funneled into town. The citizens of Mariakani seemed to be oblivious to the danger that might be coming their way. They were out in the streets, selling their merchandise and going about their business, as they had the day before. Hadn't the news reached here yet? They didn't seem concerned that war could be coming. Mattie wondered when they would care.

The Volvo slowed and joined the flow of traffic through town, moving toward the highway. As the little car entered the Mombasa Highway, the major arterial that traversed through the center of Kenya, the traffic became horrendous. Everything was going north, away from the fighting, and clogging the road.

Mattie clutched the wheel with stone-hearted resolve, following the truck ahead of her. She was determined to get to safety, and going north on this road was the only way. How long it would take her, she could not guess, for the 3-hour drive was impossible now. They were moving at a crawl. But at least they were moving.

Mattie spotted a convoy of Kenyan military passing her, traveling south. Soldiers with guns sat in the back of transports going to war. Large cannons were being towed behind war machines.

War, dear Lord, war, grieved Mattie as she continued north.

It was so warm and stuffy in the backseat that Shelly drifted in and out of sleep, exhausted from the turmoil of that morning. Jim was constantly on her mind when she was awake and in her dreams when she slept.

She awoke to find the car moving at a faster speed. As she peaked out from under her hiding place, she could see a wall of green - a forest of trees, shrubs and bushes - flashing by the window. Some of the trees were blooming and she saw clouds of yellow, pink and white rushing past.

"We seem to be making good time," she said from the back.

"Yes, the traffic has been steadily pulling off the highway," her friend said from the front seat. "I think most of them feel they are out of danger. They want to see what is happening by stopping off in one of the towns along the way. They are probably getting provisions as well, if they can," she added. "Here, you better drink this," she offered a bottle of water to Shelly.

"Thank you," Shelly said as she sat up, stretched from her cramped position in the back seat and took the bottled water. As she opened it, she glanced out the windows around her. They were climbing in a forested hilly country, with tall jagged mountains up ahead. As she looked back the way they had come, she could see the scrub brush and open country behind them, then the ocean far in the distance. The thought of Jim stabbed her in the heart again. She looked away from where she had left him, tears welling in her eyes.

Mattie said from the front seat, "Please, Shelly. Do not stay up too long. We are probably out of danger, but I have a bad feeling in my heart still. I am scared. Please keep yourself hidden until I can get you to the embassy. We have several hours of travel to go yet. I will look for a place we can stop and rest soon, if I can find one. I am sorry you must be treated this way. I am sorry that my country has done this to you. I am sorry..." her voice trailed off in grief.

Shelly reached over and squeezed Mattie's tense shoulders fondly. "I'm very happy to have you as a friend, Mattie. I'll never regret meeting you," she said warmly and genuinely.

Mattie smiled a sincere smile, the first in quite a while.

Shelly sat back and drank her water in several large gulps. Then she proceeded to braid her hair because it was so messy and windblown. She needed to get it out of her eyes.

That morning, they had dressed in clothes that Jim had bought in Old Town. Their safari outfits consisted of a camouflage long-sleeved shirt, khaki shorts, knee-high socks and sturdy walking shoes. She was wearing the fanny pack, packed with the essentials they had talked about before coming to Africa. Her soft wide-brimmed camouflage hat was neatly folded in the pack around her waist. She looked around her one more time, then crouched down in the backseat and pulled the golden-brown textile over herself again.

The rhythm of the car's motor droned on, as it swayed around each bend and accelerated up the inclines. She was drifting off to sleep when she was rudely awakened by screeching brakes and gunfire. The car rocked with the explosions around her. It slid violently off the road and into a ditch. Shelly's door was flung open and she was thrown into the brush and tall grass a short distance from the car, the native fabric laying in a heap at her feet. She lay stunned where she'd been flung. She could hear the sound of traffic driving past on the other side of the Volvo.

Tears filled her eyes as she looked in shock at Mattie's body lying where it had been tossed halfway out of the passenger side of the car during the brutal assault. Bullet holes made an ugly pattern on the windshield where Mattie had been driving just seconds before. Blood was spattered everywhere. It ran down her lifeless body and face, dripping onto the dry earth. Mattie was dead.

Shelly was about to be sick, when two men with guns ran up to the car. One man ran around to the passenger door and pulled Mattie's body from the car. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud that sickened Shelly to the core. A younger man with a heavy-looking machine gun walked around to the back of the car to watch for trouble. Both men stood within feet of Shelly lying on the ground near them. They seemed to not see her, yet if they had really looked, she would have been discovered.

Just as quickly as it happened, they darted into the car, spun the tires, kicking up dust to get it out of the ditch and sped down the road.

As the dust was flung into her face, she rose to her feet, turned from the roadway, and started to descend the terrain nearby... away from the danger. She started slowly at first, but quickly the fear urged her feet to go faster and faster. She took huge leaps, ignoring the danger of her head long plunge down the hill, trying to outrun the pain and misery that was swelling in her heart. Finally, exhausted and spent, she fell in a heap at the bottom of the descent and was sick.

How could God let this happen? A stab of doubt grew in her heart about the sovereignty God. How could He allow this to happen to Mattie... to Jim... to me... and to all the innocent people who have died this day? Where is God in all of this? she grieved in her spirit.

In wretched pain of heart, she turned from her lost breakfast, curled up into a fetal position and wept, deep and long. She was now alone in a strange place and so lost. Lost without her Jim, her friend Mattie and now maybe even without God.

The Bush

IN TIME, SHELLY uncurled from her encompassing position and looked around. Her eyes grew large as her gaze rose up the rugged cliff she had just descended so recklessly. Shock filled her as she realized she could have broken her neck or been killed. She should have been. An almost vertical drop of jagged rocks, scrub brush, thorns and stunted trees was all that she could see rising for hundreds of feet or more into the sky. There was no sign of the highway. No sound of traffic, just the hot, stagnant African air and the stillness. She had bruises, scrapes, and various cuts on her body, but overall she wasn't seriously hurt. It was incredible.

As she stood on shaky feet, she wiped her dirty face with dusty hands, streaking her tear-stained face. She dusted herself off, to the best of her ability, went over to a large rock and sat down to figure out what she was going to do. She had no water or food with her. Her mouth tasted so foul. She craved water, any water.

As she looked back up the hill, she toyed with the idea of climbing the slope to the highway, but she just couldn't see any way back up the steep incline.

No, the highway is too dangerous anyway, she thought. Those gunmen could still be up there, or worse, a whole band of them by now... And yet if they're gone, someone might stop and help me get out of here...

She sat thinking hard. If I could get back up there I would know if the gunman are gone, she continued reasoning as she scanned the slope once more. She evaluated every possible handhold, any possible route, but couldn't find one. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips.

Now what, she thought as she looked around? Then she remembered that Jim had given her the Kenyan map. She unzipped her fanny pack, pulled out her hat and placed it on her head, cringing in pain as a small bump on her head made itself known.

With another sigh she opened the map. What am I going to do? she wondered as she realized that she had no idea where she was. She could see Route A109 winding its way from Mombasa to Nairobi, but where she was on that small ribbon of color, God only knows... and Mattie knew... the thought came unbidden. With a firm determination of will, she forced the horrible image of Mattie away.

How long had they been on the road? It seemed like days, but it was probably just a few hours. She could see that the sun had risen into the morning sky. It's not noon yet, at least I don't think so. The sun's not that high in the sky.

As she looked at her watch she found the crystal cracked and her watch frozen in time. That's just great! What am I supposed to do now? Read the moss on the trees or something? How am I going to survive in this hostile place? I have no one to help me, no survival skills, no way of saving myself! She cringed. Panic started to take hold of her. In a struggle of wills, she closed her eyes. Slowly and steadily, she regained control.

I must do the best I can. I must keep a clear head. Jim would want me to be calm and reasonable. I can hear him now, think it through, Shell... think it through. You'll be okay, just think it through.

The thought of Jim tore at her heart again. In agony she thought of him. Jim... Where are you? Are you all right? Are you even alive? Tears rolled softly down her dirty face anew as she tried to see the map and think.

I need to go north, that much I can figure out. I need to follow the Mombasa Highway so I can get to Nairobi somehow and get help. But where am I? she wondered in frustration. Then she noticed that the Galana River met the freeway, near Tsavo National Park.

Had we driven that far yet? If I'm south of the river, all I have to do is walk north and I'll run right into it, for it flows virtually east and west. Once at the river, I can turn and head east. I should be able to make straight for the highway that way.

Maybe I can find help there. It looks like the Tsavo Gate at the park is about a 2-hour drive from Mombasa. We had a slow beginning this morning trying to escape. Mattie took detours along roads only she knew and we crawled along in sluggish traffic. Did we pass Tsavo? I hope not. But I was asleep for part of the time and the little Volvo was making good time when... she shoved the image aside and continued to think.

If we have already crossed the river and I walk north, I'll be walking out into the bush with no hope of finding my way, she realized in dread. There is nothing north of the river, nothing! No towns, no roads, and no water, just miles and miles of nothing... what am I going to do? she asked in agony. Her heart beat hard with the decision she had to make.

Who could she trust if she did come across any humans along the way? Militant bands of killers could be anywhere, everywhere. They'd been on the freeway hadn't they? Again, a deep sigh left her body. She was scared, sore, sick, hungry, and oh, so thirsty.

Finally, she decided to walk north for about an hour, or at least what she thought would be an hour since she couldn't use her watch. She would have to observe the sun to make sure when it was high overhead. If she didn't find the river by then, she would turn left and head for the freeway, no matter what. She knew it was out there on her left somewhere. Only the thought of exposing herself to whatever was going on in this country prevented her from heading for the Mombasa Road straight away.

She didn't know why, but she felt safer being alone, somehow. I'll walk in as much cover as I can. I can't be found. Visions of the killings she had seen that day drifted through her mind. She watched images of herself being killed, captured, tortured, or worse. Her stomach twisted. Her heart froze as she shivered in fear... Lord, help me if you're there, she pleaded.

From her fanny pack, she pulled out the tiny compass that had been a gift from her father when she was a little girl. She treasured this toy, no bigger than a nickel. Why she had taken it with her, she didn't know. But seeing it in her jewelry box at home had flooded her mind with pleasant memories of her dad and his attempts at making her into an outdoors-woman.

He loved to take her on his fishing or hunting trips. She loved to go, just to be with him, but she could never get used to roughing it outside in the hot or cold, with all the dirt, bugs, and lack of modern conveniences.

She recalled a time when she was about twelve, when they had gone on a fishing trip to the Sierra Mountains. Her father had tried to show her how to gut a fish. She turned green at the sight of the poor dead thing, with its eyes staring at nothing, its stomach being slit open and its guts spilling out. She had promptly thrown up and then ran for the shelter of the tent. A smile came to her face now as she thought... if he could only see me now. At least I look the part of an outdoors-woman.

With that happy thought, the memories faded into the knowledge that her daddy was no longer living on this Earth and that he couldn't help her anymore. For now, she was alone. As she gratefully looked at the tiny object in her hand, she turned her body facing north. She looked into the sky, trying to check the direction the sun was going, but all she could see was that it was shining brightly overhead. Well, she would have to trust that the tiny toy would show her the right way to go. With another sigh she didn't even notice, she walked north.

Shelly's desire to keep herself hidden soon vaporized in the hot sun. It was too hard walking among the trees and brush. Ravines and canyons blocked her progress and she was diverted too many times to count. Eventually she gave up walking north and just fought her way out of the hills, traveling roughly east and downward. As she descended the terrain, a wide open expanse of grasslands in the valley below, revealed itself through the trees. Time dragged on as she continued downward.

After a long hot scramble over rocks and debris, she eventually walked out onto a vast plateau. It stretched as far as the eye could see to the north, east and south. The hills and mountains rose behind her, obscuring part of the sky, but in the open grassland, there was no end to the blue expanse overhead. Walking away from the hills, the air moved and flowed around her. The air wasn't so close and stuffy out in the open, she could breathe easier and a sudden urge overtook her to get away from the oppressive forest. In the far distant east, she could see a smudge of color that appeared to be a small ridge of foothills rising gently from the plateau floor.

The sun beat down ferociously on her tired, sore and sweating body. She was so thirsty. Her tongue stuck to her mouth and her stomach growled in protest of its neglect. The warm breeze continued to blow softly around her as she strolled through the tall grass. She was struck with the emptiness of the land and how quiet it was. No animals stirred on the ground or in the air. She was completely alone... at least she hoped so.

It reminded her so much of her time in the fields of California as a child. The memories of her daddy returned with their trips hunting jack rabbits. Shelly smiled with the memories of the horror she expressed at hurting one of those cute little bunnies. But now... oh, how she would love to have one to eat! Her stomach growled at the memory of one roasting on the open campfire years ago. Her mouth tried to water, as she recalled the wonderful aroma and her stomach rumbled in a louder protest. She remembered all the great things her daddy used to provide and she grieved because God seemed to not be the Heavenly Father she thought Him to be. She moaned. She was so tired, so hungry and so THIRSTY.

Onward she walked, strolling out into the open savanna. Eventually she turned back to see where she had come from. She was now standing far out in the vast sea of grass. The vastness and emptiness seemed to be the same behind her as it was ahead of her. She could so easily get lost. The hills and mountains she had come from were far behind her now. It gave her some comfort to still be able to see them, like an anchor in this open wasteland.

Then her stomach dropped with a fearful thought, what am I doing out here in the open? This is crazy! Out here, anyone or anything can find me. There is no place to hide, no escape!

Without using the compass, she turned on shaky legs and walked back toward the hills. What a foolish thing to do! she chided herself sternly. You fool, you silly fool! This is NOT California! People are getting killed here!

Then she broke into a run as the dread of being found crowded her heart.

Only when she had gotten to the base of the foothills did she stop and rest. She was breathing hard from the running she had done and sat down on a log to catch her breath. How long it had taken her, she couldn't tell. All sense of time had vanished. It must have taken hours to get out of the hills, walk out into the grasslands and then back again. The sun was lower in the sky. She had spent a good part of the day walking in every direction, but north.

Thinking on what to do next, she realized she would have to give the trek north more time. The desire to find the river and WATER, any water, was compelling her to continue. Just one more hour, she vowed.

As she started north again, she noticed that she was keeping too close to the hills again, weaving in and around too many obstacles. In frustration, she decided to walk out into the fields just far enough to see her way north, but with the hopes of running to the hills and shelter if she had to.

Time passed as the sun slowly lowered in the sky. Suddenly, she saw a herd of zebra grazing near a small cluster of trees. Past them, in the distance, she could see more trees and brush congregating in a long line across the plateau, barring her way north. Maybe it was the river! The rivers in California had trees and brush lining the banks wherever the water flowed!

Shelly started to walk faster. The idea of water frantically drove her. She gave no heed to predators lurking where the prey strolled. Water was the essence of life. She needed it if she wasn't going to die out here.

After a strong walk for another hour she came to the river and ran into the water, kneeling in the shallows to drink. She was about to scoop up some water when she froze. A voice in her heart warned her not to do it. She could get sick, even die. She remembered just in time about the danger of drinking the water in this land.

Thank God she had iodine tablets with her. Now she needed something to put the water in. She took off her hat and quickly rinsed it in the river. Holding the precious liquid in the make-shift canvas bowl, she walked back to the shore, holding it so carefully. She then added an iodine tablet. The hat held the water well enough to take a long, deep drink of the liquid lifesaver.

Once satisfied, she took off her precious pack of supplies and laid it down by a large tree. Then back into the river she went, immersing herself in the water, washing all over and rubbing the dirt away while ignoring the stinging from her cuts and scrapes.

Refreshed, she walked back to the shore again, sat in the shade of the tree and took out her first-aid kit. What a miracle she had it with her. What would she have done if the war had broken out the day before? She wouldn't have been dressed for the bush, nor carrying the things that might save her life. She shuddered to think about it. As she applied the antibiotic salve to her sores, it stung, but she was grateful that she could count on it to help heal her wounds.

As she sat there, she looked across the wide river. A crocodile was laying on the far bank, very still, watching her in a deadly way. Shelly's heart skipped hard and long. The danger around her now became apparent. Then she saw a wake in the water moving towards her. The crocodile on the other shore dove into the water to join in the hunt.

Quickly she rose to her feet, grabbed her things and fled the river. Just as she cleared the brush, she saw a lioness in the distance leap from the grass running full out in strong and determined strides to take down a zebra that hadn't been alert enough. Two more lionesses appeared out of the grass.

Not wanting to watch another death, she ran away in fear along the shoreline. Shortly, she realized she needed to calm down and get a hold of herself. This wasn't home. This was Africa. You had to stay alert at all times, or death would find you, as Mattie would have said. Tears of exhaustion and remembrance filled her eyes.

A short time later, she limped over to a log to sit down and examine her feet. Her ankles were chafed and her feet rubbed raw from her wet shoes and socks. She took them off and set them in the sun, while keeping a constant watchfulness, this time, on her surroundings. She applied Band-Aids to her blisters, while she waited for her shoes and socks to dry.

Her stomach growled very insistently now. She was hungry, just like she had been thirsty just a short while ago, but there was nothing obvious to eat.

I can't stay by the river. It's too dangerous, she sat thinking. Everything goes there for water, but so do the meat eaters. They take their meals there! And I don't think they know they aren't supposed to eat me! she grimaced at her poor attempt at humor. I'll have to stay away from the river as much as I can, but I'll eventually need water again, she continued to reason. Well, I'll just have to figure out a way to get water without being eaten. But what can I do? I can't stop them with my bare hands, jumping up and down screaming like an idiot. How can I protect myself? There is nothing I can do to stop them, nothing. Dear Lord, what am I going to do?

Shelly looked around her as those thoughts raced through her mind. She soon found a nice, long, stout piece of wood that she could use for a walking stick as well as something to ward off an attacker, though it seemed very inadequate for the latter. Somehow, though, it made her feel a bit safer holding it in her hands.

The sun was dipping below the mountains now. Her shoes and socks were finally dry enough to continue. But this day had been a total waste. It was a waste of time, a waste of life and a waste of purpose. Not only were lives lost, but her life with Jim may have been unalterably changed forever, shattered into pieces that may never be put back together again. Would they ever find each other again? God only knew. But, she had also wasted her time getting out of here. Obstacles and inexperience blocked her every effort. She was sitting just a few miles from where she had fled, many hours ago.

How was she going to get out of this? She hadn't found help, shelter, or any type of food. Yet, she realized she had found water. She was grateful to still be alive, regardless of everything that had happened and in spite of herself.

Well, let's see if I can find shelter for the night, she thought as she got up and headed west, paralleling the river. The Mombasa Highway was a small thread of road off in the distance.

By now, the sun was below the mountains and dusk hung in the air. She was able to walk for another hour or so. Yet she knew she was running out of time before dark. Where was she going to sleep? She couldn't see any place to stay. The trees held leopards and poisonous snakes, and on the ground everything else. A deep fear of being out here after dark now overwhelmed her. She knew she had to find something, but what, where, how?

Everything will be out looking for dinner tonight, she thought, trying to make light of her situation, but it really wasn't funny. She was tired, sore, hot and hungry, yet no relief presented itself. She couldn't even find a human to surrender to or ask for help. She was faced with the prospect of spending the night out here alone... all alone in a dark, dangerous place.

Twilight was fading and a few stars appeared overhead, twinkling in the evening sky. If she was going to do something, she needed to do it now!

I guess I'll need to find a tree to sleep in. At least I'll hear something coming up the tree, won't I? And if I check the tree very carefully, maybe there won't be any snakes there either. Either way, I can't sleep on the ground. I just can't.

Tears swam in her eyes. She looked around for an adequate place to sleep, as she wiped them from her eyes. An old gnarled tree stood out in the dim world around her. It had large, thick branches far off the ground, but that was the trouble. She couldn't reach the bottom branches. She tried to climb up the trunk by wrapping her arms around it, but it was too wide and she wasn't strong enough to climb it. There was nothing around her that she could stack or move to climb up on.

Then she saw a similar tree about 20 yards away. As she quickly ran to it, she was elated to see that if she grabbed the lowest branch and swung her legs up, she could get onto the hard, rough structure. She climbed wearily, doing her best to get as high off the ground as she could, watching for snakes as she went, but the twilight was coming to an end. She could see nothing. She felt her way to a large fork in the tree. Straddling the limb with her legs she tried to settle in for the night.

How am I going to be safe up here? If I can get up here, so can a lion or leopard! All they have to do is jump into the tree with their eyes closed and they will have dinner waiting for them. They could probably do it in their sleep! But, I'm NOT going to sleep on the ground! I just can't! I'll take my chances up here, she thought with resignation.

Shelly had brought the walking stick up with her as she climbed. Now she laid it across her chest, feeling a small comfort from its presence. She pulled up her legs, trying to balance on the tree limb, and get comfortable for the night, but the hard, rough surface of the tree poked and prodded her poor sore body. As she lay there listening to the sounds of the early evening, she wondered what the night would bring.

Darkness came seconds later and the blackness of it was complete. With the night came the cold. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, shivering on her perch. In the darkness of the foliage she couldn't see her hand in front of her face, but she could see billions of stars twinkling overhead through the canopy of the tree. The first light of a full moon rose above the horizon. Back home, they would have called it a harvest moon, so huge and orange it was, slowly rising into the night.

Sleep wouldn't come. The wood was hard, rough and unforgiving. She was very uncomfortable lying on its round, hard surface. She shifted her position over and over again trying to relieve the sore spots that were forming.

The night wore on. She heard in the distance the deep-throated roar of a lion, chilling her blood. Her heart beat hard. Time seemed to stand still as she lay there, cold, unable to see in the dark and feeling defenseless.

Drifting on and off in a light sleep, she awakened with a start as she started to fall from her perch high above the ground. With fear and adrenaline pulsing, she sat up, awake, listening to the sounds of the nocturnal dark.

Over time, she nodded off again, only to be awakened by the screams of a creature in terror and pain, out there, somewhere. Death stalked the night. With her heart beating firmly, she remained awake for the rest of the night. She sat there listening to the sounds floating through the air. The stars in the heavens moved slowly overhead.

Shelly wondered, Is God out there? Does He even care?

Finding A Way

THE STARS FADED with the growing light, while the clouds grew red and everything around Shelly took on a pink hue. Exhausted, aching and shivering with cold, she watched the landscape come into focus around her with the growing light. Nothing moved. She stretched to relieve her aches and pains, but the stiffness remained. Yet, she was relieved to have survived the night.

As she climbed stiffly down, she froze in terror as she noticed large paw prints at the base of the tree, in the sandy soil. It looked like a real live man-eating cat had walked under her tree sometime in the night. Her heart skipped several beats. They looked fresh with their crisp outline in the earth. It seemed that the big cat hadn't stopped and walked around the tree at all. In fact, from what she could tell, the pace of the predator never wavered. It just walked straight past the tree and on into the tall grass.

Why didn't it notice me? It had to know I was here. I can smell me, I'm so dirty and sweaty, but it just walked past me as if I didn't exist and then vanished into field. Why? Was it well fed and not hungry? It looks like it didn't even stop and look around from what I can see of the tracks. Did God intervene? But why would He? Why would He protect me and not Mattie? No, there has to be another explanation. I just don't understand any of it, she thought miserably, trying to understand where God was in all of this. With a sigh, she thought, I'm just grateful to be alive and that it didn't stop.

With her heart still beating irregularly, she held onto the tree looking around the area to make sure that last night's visitor wasn't in the area. She didn't see anything, but that didn't mean it wasn't out there in the tall grass, sitting there licking its lips, watching its breakfast intently.

After what seemed a very long time, she cautiously and carefully climbed down out of the tree. She quickly walked west, looking around her and keeping vigilant, staying close to the trees and holding her walking stick very securely. But she was alone.

As the morning wore on, she was finally nearing the highway. The plateau in this area was changing into rolling hills with long reaching fingers stretching out onto the valley floor, creating shallow ravines. Scrub-brush and stunted trees grew over and between the fingers of the earth, blocking the way. Yet she was able to work through them and around them, keeping out of sight in the gullies as much as possible.

Shelly was heading for a couple of little dots on her map. One was marked Tsavo on the Mombasa Road and right next to it was a symbol marked Tsavo West Gate, the gateway to the National Park, or so she hoped. If she continued to follow the Galana River west, it would take her there. With any luck, she might find rescue.

If war hasn't broken out this far north, maybe I can get help from a park ranger or someone in town, if there is a town, she thought. I'll have to be very careful, though. I'm beginning to realize that a mistake in this unforgiving place can be fatal.

Shelly heard the highway, before she saw it. There seemed to be little traffic on it this morning. As she hiked through the terrain she heard the rumble of a truck passing and then another awhile later. When she got near the road, she heard the soft hum of a car. The desire to investigate prompted her to crawl to the top of the ravine and peer over the edge. She could see a shingled-roof structure over a park sign that read, "Kenya Wildlife Service, Tsavo West National Park" in the distance. I've made it! she thought excitedly!

The road next to the sign was blockaded with vehicles and barricades. She watched men in camouflage uniforms, carrying weapons standing nearby. Were these Kenyan soldiers? Her heart skipped with hope. Would they help her, she wondered?

As she lay there on her stomach, she watched a car coming from the south. It slowed and stopped at the barricade. One large soldier walked over, while the others pointed their weapons at the driver. Shelly could see the driver getting out of the car. As he was being interrogated, he was pushed around and roughed up by several of the soldiers. Then the large soldier hit him hard with the butt his weapon. He had done nothing wrong, that she could see. She watched them go through his car. The poor driver was searched and his wallet taken. After the soldiers took everything they wanted, they let him go... with his car and his life.

Shelly's heart sank. She realized that these men must be part of the group that had attacked Mombasa yesterday or at least bad people who were robbers and not in any mood to help her. They couldn't possibly be the Kenyan military or park rangers, could they? Whoever they were, she wasn't going to assume they would be kind to her.

What was she going to do now? She was hungry, tired and dirty. The need to get to Nairobi and the embassy to find Jim had not altered. That was the only place in this country she could rely on. From what she could see, she must continue to struggle on by herself. She couldn't cross here. There must be another way over the highway and the river, but where?

Shelly lowered her head onto her arms and tried to think. I can't continue north, the river is blocking my path and crossing the highway here is out of the question, even after dark. I'll have to go south, following the highway until I can find a place to cross... where I can't be seen... Here I go again, losing time and walking in the wrong direction! she thought in exasperation, as she retraced her steps part way down the ravine.

She kept low and out of sight of the barricade. Traveling south, she scrambled and climbed over obstacles, darting from one safe place to the next, keeping the road in sight as much as possible. Fifteen minutes later, she came to an area where she felt she could run quickly, always being cautious, trying to find a place to cross.

Suddenly, the sound of water reached her ears. Keeping her head down, she cautiously moved toward it. She soon stumbled upon a creek running under the highway through a culvert. To her delight, it was big enough for her to walk through, if she stooped. During the rainy season, it must come through here in a deluge, hence the huge opening under the roadway. But today, a moderate flowing stream rushed over a stony bed.

This time, before they got wet, she took off her shoes and socks. Placing the socks in her shoes, she tied the shoelaces together and slung them around her neck. She walked carefully over the stones, trying not to slip and sprain... or even worse... break an ankle. The sound of the water echoed inside of the pipe. The water was cold, very cold. It felt good on her hot, sore and tired feet. The rumble of a large vehicle sounded overhead, as she made her way to the other side. She could envision what might lay ahead for that driver, but there was no way she could warn him.

As she immerged on the other side, she carefully looked around. Determined not to be spotted, her heart pounding, she took the time to find a hiding place. With the noise of the water masking her presence, she sat down on the bank next to the culvert, among some bushes. She observed that the land steadily rose to the mountains ahead. The water channel became deeper, as it cut its way into the foothills.

Making sure she was alone one more time, she pulled out her map. Now that she knew where she was, just about, she noticed that the Mombasa Road traveled in a northwesterly direction for miles. Since the Mombasa Road was too dangerous to travel, she found a secondary road going due east from Tsavo, marked C103 on the map, and then another smaller obscure road going north and dead ending just below the Mombasa Road near a dot on the map called Mtito Andei. She had no idea if it was a town or not, but it might offer refuge of some sort, or a place she could find food. She was hungry. Her stomach growled and ached its demands to be fed.

Which way should she go? Should she take the smaller road going north and walk through the wilderness hoping to find the highway, or should she stay with the main road, going west, in the hopes of intersecting the highway, in that direction? What was the terrain like at the end of the small road where it stopped? Could she walk the miles it would take to get back to the Mombasa Road, from there? She hoped so, as she sensed a gentle, soft urging to go by the secondary road. It looked safer somehow and she didn't want to stay near the main road and risk capture.

Then there still remained the problem of getting across the river. It still flowed east and west, only on this side of the highway it was called the Tsavo River, instead of the Galana River. There had to be a crossing over the river somewhere, but were? The map didn't show one.

Shelly sat there, trying to decide. I'll have to risk it. I just can't see following the main road when it's so dangerous. Then, when I come to the river, I should be able to find a boat or someway of crossing it. I need to continue north, I just have to. One problem at a time, she thought. Just take it one problem at a time. First, let's see if I can find the road west.

She rose and followed the creek. It rose gently toward the hills and mountains beyond, at first. She stayed low and watched intently for anything moving. Nothing stirred. As soon as she had walked away from the highway sufficiently to feel safe, she prepared to leave the creek.

She took her hat off, rinsed it in the fresh flowing water and then drank long and deep. God only knew when she would have the opportunity to find water again. Hopefully, at the river she would get another chance. But the possibility of more crocodiles, or lions near the water, had crossed her mind.

Well, I can't just sit here. She put her shoes and socks on, and then climbed the bank.

Shelly headed northwest now, in the hopes of intersecting C103, the road that headed west. The sun had climbed past its zenith, in the afternoon sky.

Please, Lord let me find that road before it goes past the little road north, she prayed. A huge sigh left her body and her stomach growled persistently.

She walked on, in and among more trees, as the afternoon progressed. It soon turned into a sporadic forest as it climbed the gentle terrain. The trees were alive with singing birds and monkeys creating a racket as they played and fought over food.

Food! It slowly dawned on her... If the monkeys can eat it, why can't I?

All thought of danger fled, as she ran under the trees looking for any fallen fruit. But the only fruit she found was rotting on the ground and disappearing quickly with insects like ants and beetles' swarming all over it. She tried to climb a tree, but she couldn't get a handhold or find another way up. Then she tried throwing rocks at the fruit. The monkeys chattered and screamed at her efforts, taking affront at her attempts to take their food.

Finally, after a long and exhausting time, a piece of fruit fell to the ground. She pounced on it greedily and took a bite. It tasted nauseatingly sweet. She ate every bit of it, but it made her feel sick and even hungrier, if that was possible. Her stomach was achy, sour and protested loudly with the small offering. She sighed and decided she couldn't afford to take any more time and energy getting another one. So, not feeling any better, she turned and continued to follow her little compass northwest.

Then, in the distance, she saw a constructed dirt road, well graded and wide enough for two-lane traffic. It lifted her spirits to see it. It must be the road she was looking for.

Let's hope I haven't gone too far west and missed the road I want going north, she thought with concern.

As she neared the road, she heard the sound of a car engine approaching. Torn between getting help and being caught, she decided to take the safer option and hide. She ran a few feet from the road and hid in the tall grass near some brush. She sank as low as she could and listened to the vehicle coming closer. Then it passed. The sound diminished as it continued on its way east.

Whatever it was, whoever it was, they were going about their business and the opportunity to be helped was going with them, if help would have been offered.

She stepped onto the hot, dusty dirt road and now followed it west. The road took her between fields and forest. With her hearing attuned to any noise that might be danger, she scanned the terrain ahead. Silence surrounded her. Gone were the birds and monkeys. No vehicles approached, no humans appeared, the sky was vacant and the wilds silent. She seemed to be alone in the world, nothing stirred.

After about a half-hour of hot, dusty walking, she noticed a small trail taking off into the fields on her right. It disappeared into a congested line of trees and shrubs. A small sign next to the path read, "Tsavo Footbridge".

A way across the river, maybe. I need to find a way across somewhere, but will this get me lost? Will I be able to find the road again? The same gentle nudge in her heart told her to try.

She followed the dusty path through the field and into the trees. As she came out of the woods, there was the river flowing deep and wide. Trees and brush lined both sides of its bank as far as she could see. A suspension bridge, made of ropes and wood, stretched out across the wide flowing water. In the middle of the river was a sandy island that accommodated a wooden structure that propped up the flimsy, ropy, foot bridge.

It looks old and ill kept. But, I've got to cross somewhere, somehow. Is it safe, though?

As she approached the footbridge, she looked all around her and didn't see or hear anything out of place, just the silence. Heart beating hard, she walked out onto the flimsy structure and started to cross as safely as she could. The ropes were no support at all, so she stopped trying to hold onto them so tightly. The wooden planks swayed with her weight and effort as she walked. It was awkward and cumbersome, but she was slowly making her way across. She could see the river flowing deeply and swiftly below her.

With care and concentration, she reached the other side, quickly jumped off the bridge and found a place to hide in the nearby trees. Sighing with relief, she rested a minute. Then she looked at her compass and turned west again, following the trail along the river.

The path followed the shore for a ways and then turned and entered a small sparse forest. The periodic shade was a relief from the hot African sun. Soon, she saw that the trail left the trees and exposed itself out in open fields again. Shelly stood in the last remnant of shade, scouting out the open terrain before her. At the far end of the field, she could see the end of a stone bridge on her left, next to where the river probably flowed.

I bet the road I was on crosses the river there. It sure would have been easier to walk across that bridge, she thought with frustration.

Then she saw the jeep. It was parked at the end of the bridge, off on the shoulder, in and among some trees. Three armed men sat in the vehicle, while one stood near the road as lookout. They appeared to be hiding and waiting for anyone who happened to come by.

Shelly ducked for cover.

Thank God I didn't cross there, she thought with relief. Who knows what would have happened to me if I had stayed on the road. I know I felt the need to take that trail, but was that me or God? I wish I knew.

As she peered out from her hiding place, she observed the road continuing from the bridge, across the field, in a diagonal direction away from her, and into a small forest. It looked like the type of road she had been on.

It must be the right road, but I can't go across the fields, there's no cover. I'll have to try and sneak through the trees that skirt the field.

But, as soon as she tried the noise from walking on the leaves of the forest floor and moving branches caused such a disturbance, she panicked and retreated to her hiding place. With relief, she could see she hadn't been detected, but what was she going to do now?

She looked out across the field again. The only cover I'll have is the tall grass. Will that be enough? I don't want to go back. I can't go back. Maybe I should stay here until dark? That thought ran chills down her spin. The idea of sleeping out in the open again didn't settle well with her at all.

Besides, she continued, I can't stay here all day. I can't waste any more time. I need to get to Nairobi!

So, with a determination of will and resolve of heart, she moved slowly onto her belly, trying not to make any noise. She found that if she took her time and moved deliberately, slowly and softly, she could move almost silently across the field. She picked a diagonal path away from the gunman and towards her goal, the road. But the road also took the same slanted direction. It was going to take a long time to get there, but what else could she do. Above all else she didn't want to be discovered and everything in her drove her towards the north and the American Embassy.

About every twenty minutes or so, she would rest and take a peek at her position and what the gunman were doing. They were still there, waiting.

On one occasion, a snake appeared near her, and then retreated quickly into the grass, avoiding her all together. A small squeak could be heard, as she stifled a scream by covering her mouth. She then breathed softly, once she knew the danger was gone.

Did they hear me? she wondered as she raised her head to check on them. The guard on the bridge was standing on top of the stone wall looking out into the field in her direction. She dropped her head down as if it had been shot. Did I cry out? I must have made a noise, she realized as she cowered in fear. She laid still as stone listening for footsteps, for any sound, but nothing happened.

After what seemed like an eternity, she looked up, oh so carefully. They were still there, but the guard wasn't paying any attention to the field anymore, he seemed to be relaxed and back at watching the road. With a prayer of thanks she continued to crawl.

It was hard, hot work as the sun moved across the sky. It was taking so long to go such a short distance. After a while, though, she reached the trees and crawled into the sheltering concealment and shade. Looking back she could barely see the soldiers. Cautiously she made her way through the forest as quietly as possible. Finally, she was far enough away to take to the road again.

I hope this is the same road. It certainly seems to be the same type of road I was on this morning. I sure hope so. She got out her compass which was pointing almost due west. At least it's going in the right direction.

Quietly she walked, near the side of the road, peering around, trying to be as alert. She listened to every sound, observed every movement. She was making better time now... miles instead of inches.

Why is this road so deserted? Shouldn't there be some type of traffic on it? Has everyone in the area fled? Probably. I guess I'd have left long ago too, if a war had broken out near my home. Well, that just leaves the gunmen and me. Swell!

Steadily the sun crossed the sky.

It must be late afternoon. I wonder how far I've traveled today, certainly not as far as I'd hoped.

Thirst started to make itself known again. She was starving, nauseated, tired, sore and hot. Up ahead she noticed a dirt road branching off to the right, if it could be called a road. It looked more like a track that was only there because vehicles had traveled over it once in a while. But it did run in the direction she wanted to go, north. Was this the little road she was looking for? She couldn't tell. Should she go on and see if there was another road further west? What if there wasn't and this was the one she should take? There was no way of knowing.

Well, I guess I can start walking down this one and see if it veers off course. If I don't make the right decision, I'll be wasting my time, either way! I just don't know what to do, she argued with herself.

She took out the map and tried to see if she could mark the distance, but she couldn't decipher anything. There was no way of knowing how far she had traveled that day. But, one thing was for sure, she wanted to get off this road. Fear of discovery motivated her.

With a fervent prayer for help, she turned down the dusty track and walked north. As she did, she was unaware how this decision would forever change her life, but God knew. He always knows.

The Farm

ACCORDING TO THE map, if she was on the right road, it went north for approximately 12 miles. How long it would take her to walk it, she couldn't guess. All she knew was that during these last two days, she'd never walked so much in her life. But, it was worth it, if she could get to the embassy... even if I have to walk for the rest of my life to get there. With an ironic smile she realized, That could be a very short span of time, in this country.

She followed the dusty ruts of the road through rolling hills, the sun beat down on her hot, tired, starving body. Sparse patches of trees and brush, created a small loosely-knit forest with welcome intermittent shade, though the hot humid air gave her little relief. Then, the road disappeared into a dense wall of tangled vegetation which stretched its matted arms of foliage overhead into a green canopy. As she entered this enclosed emerald world, the air became close and suffocating with its smell of decay and death. Drenched with sweat, hungry and thirsty, she trudged on.

Walking on the soft earth, covered in a carpet of leaves and moss, the sound of water running somewhere ahead reached her ears. Soon the sound was a muffled roar. Without warning, over the sound of the falling water, she heard the growl of an engine rapidly approaching from ahead, and then another. They were coming fast, too fast. She flung herself behind the nearest tree without looking, for there was no time. A camouflaged jeep carrying armed men and a battered brown pickup truck hurled past her before she could react to the danger. They were laughing and shouting to each other as they passed.

I wish my heart would stop this incessant pounding all the time. I'm going to die of fright before this is over, she analyzed as she came out of her hiding place, well after the vehicles had gone and only the sound of the water could be heard.

How am I ever going to find help? There are crazy men with guns everywhere, she thought with disgust. Yet, I've been able to walk for miles all alone, most of the time. Its uncanny how empty and quiet this country can be. But, it's the not knowing what to do or where to go that's making me crazy. I just can't get caught, I can't... Jim! I have to get help and find my husband! she desperately reasoned. When will this nightmare be over?

She stood in thought for a second, Now... should I go back or continue? I know there are armed men behind me, but I don't know if there are any more ahead? Okay... behind me for sure, maybe... ahead. I guess its north then. Help for Jim is north.

Shelly walked on, thinking about him, wondering where he was, what was happening to him. Lost in thought, she came to an old wooden bridge which crossed a shallow ravine were the fast-running creek flowed. That sound had masked the vehicles' approach. Shaking her head, she realized how lucky she had been, again, not to have been caught.

She took the opportunity to drink some water. She cupped her hands and drank, over and over again. Washing her face, neck, and arms, she then sat on bank, took off her shoes and socks to soak her hot, tired feet in the cool, refreshing water. She closed her eyes and tears of grief, exhaustion and longing flowed down her face. Sleep started to wrap its arms around her. With a start, she woke to realize she couldn't go to sleep. Not here. Not now. She still had hours of daylight left. She had to go on.

Vigilantly she strolled down the dusty track again, watching the sun through the canopy sink lower in the African sky. The forest surrounded her and enclosed her in its cocoon or prison, she couldn't decide which. She was still walking north, according to her little compass, when a movement far ahead on the side of the road caught her eye. A gentle breeze was stirring the leaves overhead and something red fluttered in the air.

I wonder what that is, she questioned, her heart jumping?

As she cautiously drew nearer, she could see that the red seemed to be fabric from a dress. A puff of air played with some strands of golden hair. Quickly, she recognized it to be the body of a woman, face down in the dirt. The body was lying in an abnormal position, arms flung here and there. Then she could see that the back of her head was gone. Trembling and sick to her stomach, she darted past the body as fast as she could. She couldn't go near it. There was no question that the person was dead.

Then she recalled the armed men who had traveled this road just a short time earlier. She grimaced at the memory and wondered if they had killed the woman... probably. Anguish for a woman she didn't know and dread for her personal safety occupied her thoughts.

I want to go home, she cried in her soul. I wish I had never come to this place. I wish Jim had never brought me. I wish... dear God, I wish this had never happened.

But it had. It was real. And her only hope for now was to continue north.

The afternoon was gone and evening was upon her when she came upon the farm. A wooden sign mounted on poles over the rutted road read "Madison Farm" written in bold black letters. Wooden fences bordered both sides of the old road that still traveled north.

Caution now dominated her senses. What would she find at the farm... gunmen, more death, food, or maybe someone to help her? Should she even go there? Maybe it would be best to skirt around the farm, but her hunger outweighed her caution. She continued down the road toward whatever awaited her.

This is so dangerous! I wonder if the women on the road came from here. It seems likely.

Caution soon changed to fear. She left the road, trying to follow it and stay concealed as much as possible. It didn't take long to come to the house. It stood perishing in an open field. The front door was wide open, smashed and hanging on one hinge. Glass was everywhere. Windows had been broken out. Furniture, rugs and other household items lay smashed and destroyed in a haphazard pile in the front yard, still burning. Hungry flames and smoke rose from the half-burned pile of debris.

Shelly's heart beat hard again. She just knew there would be dead bodies in that house. It had the look of death on it.

Maybe there's no one in there? Maybe they had fled in time? Maybe there is food or a phone, something to help me out of this horrible situation? Maybe, maybe, maybe! She thought in frustration. What a vague word.

Gathering courage she approached the house. Silence, nothing stirred. Life here, stood as still as death.

Slowly, she walked toward the building. She trembled all over and her legs felt like lead, as she walked up to the front porch, her feet making soft creaking noises as she quietly treaded across the wooden boards. She paused by the broken door, reluctant to look inside.

When she did, she could see the room, indeed the whole house, was torn apart. Cupboard doors were flung open, drawers pulled out and flung to the floor, their contents scattered about like wreckage from a hideous accident. As she cautiously stepped inside, her heart wouldn't relent its rapid rhythm. She could see a phone on the floor near the kitchen. She ran over to it, but there was no dial tone. It was lifeless, just like the house.

As she turned to look into the kitchen she saw him, staring unseeing at the ceiling, a man with blond hair and a neat small beard and mustache. He had been shot several times in the chest. Shelly cringed. A sob caught in her throat as her hand went involuntarily to her mouth to stop a scream that was building inside. She turned away in dry heaves, for she had nothing to give.

Trembling, sick, she forced herself to check all the cupboards and areas where there might be food. Nothing... it was all gone or destroyed.

A soft noise behind her startled her. She whirled around and almost screamed in terror at the same time.

There, standing by the back door was a young boy, a small replica of the man on the floor. Tears of grief ran down his cheeks as he stood looking at the body of the man on the floor. He didn't look at Shelly. He just stood like stone, not moving.

Shelly's heart melted in an instant, He shouldn't be here... he shouldn't see this... I need to get him away from here, now.

She went over to him and knelt down in front of him trying to block out what he was staring at. She gently took his shoulders and said, "Let's go back outside. There's nothing we can do for him. I'm very sorry..." her voice faded away.

The boy finally looked at her, anguish emanating from his eyes. Then his anger came. "Let go of me!" he said defiantly. "That's my father!"

Shelly's expression fell. She hurt for this boy who stood so straight and brave. But she knew it wasn't going to do him any good to stay. The memory of his father on that floor would stay with the boy for the rest of his life.

How could God allow this to happen to this family, to this young innocent boy? she grieved in her spirit.

As she stood her ground and wouldn't give way for him to enter, he crumbled into her arms and sobbed deeply, just like she had for the loss of her Jim, and in a small way for Mattie.

Grief runs deep for those you love and have lost, she decided.

She let him cry, but as soon as he got control of himself, she stood up and firmly but gently turned him around and walked out of the house into the backyard. He didn't resist.

We can't stand out here in the open, we have to find cover in case they come back.

She walked him over to some bushes near the house. As she walked in among them, she felt hidden for the moment. Holding his shoulders gently, she knelt down beside him.

"My name is Shelly Ferguson," she told him quietly. "I'm from America. I was on holiday in Mombasa with my husband when we got separated during some fighting there," she continued softly. "So, I'm trying to get to Nairobi to get help and see if we can find him."

She paused for a second, and then said, "I'm so sorry about your father," she told him sincerely, with tears in her eyes, for she was tired, hungry, sore and sick at heart. The fear and loss she had experienced in the last two days were expressing themselves in her eyes. The boy looked at her with grief still swimming in his.

He was about 7 years old, with blond hair and crystal blue eyes. He didn't say anything, but just stood there looking at this stranger who had ahold of him. She could tell he was trying to make a decision. And then he made it.

"I need to get back to my sister. You can come with me if you want," he offered with a slight tremor in his voice.

Just like that, he had deemed her safe and offered to take her with him to his sister.

"This way," he said.

Shelly was startled to think that another child was out here somewhere, alone, and followed him across the driveway. Both of them were looking around to be sure they were safe.

On the other side of the driveway a tangle of trees, bushes and ornamental plants formed a small jungle. The colorful tangle of plants thinned out as it spread into the forest surrounding the home. The boy went to a couple of bushes and pushed his way through. Shelly followed. She was surprised to discover stone steps descending into the earth to a wooden door.

This place is well hidden.

The boy walked down steps and opened the door into a dark underground passageway. As the boy walked in, Shelly ducked her head and followed him into the gloom. He closed the door, took out a flashlight and illuminated the passageway.

The walls were built of stone with a ceiling made of large timbers and wooden planks. At the end of the passageway, Shelly could just make out an opening on the right, with a huge, heavy curtain blocking the entrance. It hid the lantern light within. As the boy pulled the fabric aside, a storage room with a small living area was revealed.

The room was of moderate size. It held a wide cot and kitchen table against the far wall. Four wooden chairs were placed neatly around the table. A wooden bench was against the wall on her right. Wooden pegs, mounted on a board, hung on the stone wall above the bench. Two jackets and a hat hung there. Under the bench plastic containers of water were stored. On her left, she saw shelves full of canned goods and jars of fruit in the flickering light of the lantern.

Then her gaze returned to the cot and in the lantern light, there sat a little girl of about 4 on the bed. She too was blond and blue-eyed, but her eyes were a darker blue, like the sea at great depths.

The boy went to the cot and sat next to his sister, wrapping his arms around her protectively. He sat there looking at Shelly as if she had all the answers. But, what answers did she have? She was as lost as the children sitting on the bed.

"Where's daddy?" asked the little girl in a whisper to her brother.

"He isn't coming right now," was all the boy would say in a husky voice.

The little girl sat silent, looking at the stranger that had come into their hiding place.

Shelly took a seat on the bench and asked the boy, "What's your name?"

He said his name was Thomas and his sister's name was Faith. They had been with their father and mother that morning, helping them pack so they could leave, when they heard a vehicle coming down the road.

"Daddy told me to take my sister to the shelter and to hurry. He told us we had to be quiet and quick about it," Thomas told her. "He said not to come out until he came to get us, no matter what. I waited and waited, but he didn't come," he said as tears filled his eyes.

Then a thought occurred to him, panic was written all over his face. He jumped up saying. "I need to find Mom. I didn't see Mom..." his voice trailed away as he darted for the opening.

Shelly grabbed him and held him firmly. "Thomas, you can't go out there right now. It's not safe," she said, as the image of the woman on the road returned to her.

Thomas struggled in her arms as she turned him to face her. The look on her face froze him where he stood.

Shelly asked gently, "Was your mother wearing a red dress today? Does she have blond hair?"

Tears formed in his eyes again as he nodded yes.

"Thomas, I'm so, so sorry," Shelly said in misery. "I saw a woman on the road a ways from here. She is with your Daddy now."

"No! No! No!" he cried, "It's not true." As he continued to look at the truth in her face, he tore himself away and flung himself on the cot, crying in anguish.

Faith started crying too, because her brother was so unhappy. Shelly was uncertain what to do. She just sat there with her head against the cold, stone wall and closed her eyes, wishing, praying that this would all go away. As she opened her eyes, she saw Thomas trying to contain his grief. He reached over and tried to comfort his sister.

"I want mommy!" Faith demanded. "Where's mommy?"

It broke Shelly's heart to see these two children so alone and in so much pain. With tears in her eyes, she got up from the bench and went over to the cot. She pulled Faith up in her arms, and the little girl let her. Maybe it was the shared grief the little girl sensed on the strangers face, maybe it was her loving eyes, but she didn't resist when the lovely woman reached down to pick her up. She wanted to be held and she wrapped her arms around Shelly's neck. Shelly sat down on the cot next to the grieving boy, trying to comfort both of them. She wrapped her free arm around him and drew him close.

She said, "Thomas, I don't know what I can do. I'm sorry this has happened, but I promise to help. I'll do my best to see that you get to a safe place somehow. Will you trust me to do that for you?" she asked.

Thomas looked up, nodding his agreement and hugged her hard.

As Shelly sat on the cot, Faith stopped crying and sniffled, snuggling into the woman that was holding her.

"It'll be dark soon. I think we all need something to eat first and then we should stay here tonight," she told Thomas. "It's safe here, I think, but we need a few things from the house," she was thinking of something to keep them warm and other items that would help them through the night.

Thomas' eyes became large with the thought of going back into the house, but then he put on his brave face and told her, "Okay, I'll help you."

She was shocked by his reply and admired his courage, but said firmly, "No, Thomas, you stay here with your sister. I need you to keep her safe. You can tell me where everything is."

He sat there evaluating her for a bit and then his eyes looked down, at nothing in particular and said softly, "Okay." Then he added quietly, "My Mom and Dad call me Tom."

Shelly smiled kindly and said, "All right, Tom."

"We need something to eat first," she stated. The events of the past few hours had made her forget her hunger, but now it was back with a vengeance.

"We have a lot of food here," said Tom as he got up from the cot and ran over to the shelves.

He opened a wooden box and brought out what looked like beef jerky, wrapped in cloth that his father had prepared. Then he opened a jar of peaches that his mother had canned. It was easy to see that he struggled with the memories of his mother and father as he opened each item. A tin of crackers was next. He then opened a chest containing dishes and eating utensils. Shelly helped him set the table and then serve the food.

"Why are there dishes and things out here?" asked Shelly.

"My daddy made this place to store our food in. But when there was trouble a few years ago, daddy turned it into a shelter so all of us could hide here, if we had to," Tom explained.

Well, that's a blessing, thought Shelly as she took her spoon and ate a large piece of juicy peach. Tom had his hands folded on the table and so did Faith, as the children sat watching her with a confused look.

When Shelly took time to notice that the children weren't eating, she asked, "Aren't you hungry?"

"We are supposed to thank Jesus for our food first," Tom said. "We never eat until we do, no matter how hungry we are. Daddy and Mommy said so. They said it's very important," he finished.

How can you think of thanking Jesus when you mommy and daddy are dead, she thought in pain and then regretted her hardness of heart.

I just don't understand, she concluded to herself, I just don't.

Then she said, "I'm sorry, Tom, I normally do say prayer. It's just been a long day," she sighed, bowed her head and allowed Tom to say grace.

"Dear Lord, please take good care of my mommy and daddy. We thank you for this food. We ask that you help us to get to safety, and thank you for bringing the nice lady to help us. Amen," he ended.

Shelly took to heart this little child's faith in an afterlife. I hope they're safe with God. I hope Mattie is, too. Please, Lord, help me to find Jim. Let him live, Lord. Please keep him safe and help me find him again. Please!

The dinner was good and refreshing, and she ate to her heart's content. It made her feel ill to eat so much, but a full stomach was something she could really appreciate now.

Sleep started to wrap its arms around her sore, exhausted body, once more. It's going to be so nice to sleep, really sleep tonight.

She certainly hadn't slept well last night.

As she nodded off, she awoke with purpose. I have to go to the house! she realized and started to tremble. She shrank from going into that house with Tom's dad still there, in the dark, and with the real possibility of danger lurking outside. She thought for a few seconds about not going and trying to sleep in this cold, damp place without blankets, but she couldn't do that to the children.

With a quaking spirit and resolve to take care of the children, she said as bravely as she could, "I'll have to go to the house to get blankets. It's going to get cold here tonight. I'll look for pillows and nightgowns for you, as well. Is there anything else you want me to get while I'm there?"

She could read on Tom's face that he feared she wouldn't come back, but he said nothing to her and just shook his head no. He gave her the flashlight and stood in the middle of the room looking forlorn and frightened.

"I'll come back, Tom, I promise. I'll be very careful," she vowed. "Both of you stay here until I get back. I won't be long," she added.

Taking the flashlight in her hand, she pulled the curtain aside. She looked back into the room. Tom had gone back to his sister. They sat on the cot together looking at her with apprehension. She let the fabric fall back into place.

As she walked down the hall, she didn't turn on the flashlight, so reluctant was she to show their hiding place with any type of light. Her hands touched the cold, hard surface of the stone as she felt her way to the door. When she found the handle, she pulled the well-oiled door open to the outside world and stepped out into the night. Shutting it softly, she stood in the dark, looking at the wondrous stars overhead as the moon gave off a soft mellow light. The shadows were deep, black, and able to hide anything.

As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she could see the house across the driveway. It was cast in deep shadow and remained darker than the night. The back door was barely visible in the gloomy wall of the house. She thought it might still be open, but she couldn't see it for sure. She walked toward the house, still reluctant to use the flashlight.

The fear of entering that house once more overpowered her. She froze, trembling, crying silent tears. Yet she must go in. Again, on feet made of lead, she neared the back door. No sound came from the house. The opening at the back was a deep, dead, black. She just couldn't enter there.

In fear and shame she went around the house cautiously, feeling her way to the front porch. With cautious steps she softly tip-toed onto the wooden structure, moving along the wall to the front door, hoping not to get cut on the broken windows she knew were there. Stepping carefully, blindly, she entered the house. Only when she was inside, did she use the flashlight. Covering the lens with her hand, she could see well enough with the pink defused light to avoid falling and she went directly to the bedrooms, avoiding the kitchen altogether.

She found three doorways opening off a short hall. The opening on the left seemed to be the children's room, while on the right, the bathroom and what must be the parents' bedroom. The rooms were littered and void of substance. All of the contents were now in front of the house, smelling of gasoline and smoke.

Shelly picked through some clothes scattered on the floor. She found a large flannel shirt that Tom could use to sleep in. It must be one of his father's. A small set of pajamas was found for Faith, but she couldn't find any blankets or traveling cloths for the children.

Then in the bathroom she found a small closet hidden behind the bathroom door. As she opened it, she was shocked to see it untouched. It's just like Tom's mother had left it before... closing off that thought, she grabbed some towels and facecloths. On the upper shelves were sheets and blankets. She started piling all the things she wanted to carry with her into one of the blankets. There wasn't very much left to find, so she bundled up what she had and went quickly to the front of the house. She stopped just in time to turn off the flashlight. Standing in the black pit of the broken doorway, she stood still and listened. Nothing stirred. Then almost running through the front door, she tip-toed quickly over the porch and onto the driveway, and ran straight for the bushes and the hidden shelter.

As soon as she was through the door, she closed it quickly, leaning against it for comfort. She turned back, opened the door just a crack and listened. There was no sign of discovery, no sound, no movement at all. Shutting the door again and making sure it was bolted, she rested her head on its wooden form, relieved to be safe for a while. As she turned and picked up her bundle, the curtain parted. She could see the silhouette of Tom looking down the hall at her.

"It's me," she said softly as she walked the passageway toward him.

She could see relief in his face as she walked into the hidden room. They made up the cot, for the night. It was meant for two adults, but it was just right for one adult and two frightened children. They snuggled close together in the warm blankets and slept deep and long into the night, safe at last... for a time.

Going North

SOFT VOICES DRIFTED in and out of Shelly's dream. She couldn't understand what they were trying to tell her, but suddenly the fear of being discovered woke her. She opened her eyes to discover a soft light illuminated the room. She lay there bewildered for a second. Then she heard the whispering for real. She sat up in panic wondering,

Where am I?

Who's there?

What's going on?

Why is it still dark?

Then she realized where she was and that it would always be night in this room. She discovered that Tom and Faith were talking softly to each other as they went about putting things on the bench. With a sigh of relief, she realized they were safe and alone in the shelter.

"Good morning Tom. How are you, Faith?" she asked as she stretched. "What are you up to?"

"We are getting some things together for when we leave," Faith said in a big girl voice.

"Oh," Shelly said as she realized that's exactly what they all should be doing. "I wish I knew what time it is, my watch is broken."

Tom pulled out a pocket watch and said softly "Its 20 minutes past ten."

"In the morning?" asked Shelly in shock.

"Yes," was all that Tom said.

"Where did you get the nice watch?" she asked, trying to gather her wits and get out of bed.

"It's my daddy's watch. He gave it to me on my last birthday," Tom said as he showed it to her. "It belonged to my Grandpa too," he said sadly.

"What a nice thing to have, Tom," She replied gently as she realized he knew too well what had happened yesterday and was grieving the loss of his parents.

"Let's get something to eat. We can talk as we eat," she offered as she got up, took a wash cloth, got it wet and helped to wash the faces of the children, as well as her own. They didn't have toothbrushes, but they did find an old hairbrush in a wooden chest. She did her best to clean up and re-braided her hair. Next, she checked out the clothing the children were wearing, they seem to be dressed all right for the trip. At least they are wearing sturdy shoes, thank goodness, but we're going to need a lot more things before we can leave.

Tom set the table, took out the jerky, crackers, and then fruit from his mother's jars. Sitting down at the table, they prayed for a blessing on their meal and then discussed what to do. They drank water and peach juice, while chewing on the jerky. This juice is so refreshing on an empty stomach.

Then she turned to Tom to discuss their options.

"Tom, do you know where we can get help nearby?" she asked the quiet, subdued boy.

"No, I don't think so. Everyone we know is gone," he replied.

"Don't you have any relatives or friends here in Africa?" she asked.

"No, just my Grandma Madison in Portland, Oregon," was his answer.

Then she asked, "What about a police station or something like that?"

Tom's eyes looked alarmed and he responded, "Daddy told me not to trust the police in this area, not to trust any strangers," he replied as he looked back down at his breakfast.

"Oh," she said with some astonishment. Well, that's just wonderful. Now I can't trust anyone in this country.

Then she thought about Uncle Jumo, Mrs. Omondi and Mattie. Dear sweet Mattie. She sighed and decided not to be too hasty, but she would have to be careful, especially now that she had the children to consider.

We'll take it one day at a time, one person at a time, at least any person without a gun.

"Well then, north it is, I guess. It's going to be a very long walk. Do you think you can walk that far," she asked?

Tom looked reserved and said, "I don't know. We'll have to try. We can't stay here."

What a mature thing to say, she thought with fondness for the boy.

"All right, we'll just have to do our best," she offered. "If we can make it to the American Embassy, somehow, we should be able to find help. I'll look for my husband and then I'll be sure you and Faith are delivered to your grandmother in the states."

They discussed what they would need for the trip while Tom quietly went about the storage room looking for the items. A canteen was found and Shelly filled it with water. Tom brought out a large bowie knife in its leather sheath, which she attached to her belt. A box of matches went into her pouch, even though she doubted she would allow a fire. It would be too dangerous with the smoke and smell attracting unwanted visitors of the two-legged variety, possibly with guns.

More iodine and dehydration tablets were located in a first-aid kit stored in a chest in the corner. She tucked the medications into her fanny pack. They took the jackets and hat off of the wall. Shelly could wear the large jacket and Tom could use the smaller one. It was too big for him, but it would keep him warm at night and the hat would help keep the sun off of his head during the day.

Now, we need some type of jacket for Faith. Maybe her daddy's shirt that Tom wore last night. But, she'll also need a hat.

"Tom, Faith will need some type of hat. Do you know of anything we can use?" she asked him.

Tom went to the chest. He pulled out an old baseball hat his daddy had brought from the states. It had a faded Oregon Ducks logo on it.

Shelly knelt down and adjusted the hat to fit Faith's head. It sat loosely on the child, but it would have to do. They packed the big shirt, jackets and a towel in a backpack that was found in the storage room. They emptied out the crackers from the tin and filled it up with as much jerky as it could hold. Tom took what was left of the jerky and put it in a plastic bag, and then placed the crackers in another plastic bag. The crackers would get stale, but they would do just fine when their stomachs were empty. Shelly craved to bring some fruit with her, but the glass jars weren't practical. How delighted she was when Tom found a few cans of peaches hiding on a back shelf. A portable can opener was located along with some utensils.

Then Tom found an old white laundry bag with a drawstring. In went the cans of peaches and the plastic bags of jerky and crackers. Then another bag full of knives, spoons and forks were placed in it, along with some plates. Too soon, the bag was full and very heavy.

This isn't going to work. I need to carry Faith as much as possible and Tom is too young to carry such a large, cumbersome, heavy bag.

Shelly sat thinking how she could relieve the bag of some of its weight.

The only thing we need the plates for, are the peaches and we can eat those out of the cans. And we can share one knife, fork and spoon between us. I'll try and keep them clean.

Out came the plates, and the extra utensils. Then, on second thought, she took out the cans of peaches and placed them in her backpack. She could carry that. At that point, she placed one of the towels and a face cloth into the bag.

I wish I could put the blanket in there, but it won't fit. Besides, it'd make the bag too heavy again.

As she stood there, looking at all they had accumulated, she realized how blessed they were to have so much, at a time when people were losing everything. She mentally checked over what they had. They had water, food, first aid items, clothing to keep warm and hats to protect their head. They had a flashlight and matches and a walking stick and a big knife for protection.

"Well, I think we're ready," she said with resolve, as she looked around the room once more.

"You stay here while I make sure everything is alright outside."

The children didn't say a word as they walked over to the cot and sat down near the things they were to carry.

Shelly walked down the passageway and opened the door as quietly as she could. The brightness of the sun blinded her. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she stood listening. Then instead of pushing through the bushes, she poked her head out looking around to the best of her ability.

All seemed quiet except for the birds and monkeys out in the forest. If someone is out there, they wouldn't be so active and noisy, I would think. I guess it's safe. I hope so.

She went back in and joined the children. Before they left, they agreed to not talk at all, when they were outside, unless it was really necessary. They had to be as quiet as possible. Looking around once more to be sure they had everything, they left the shelter.

She regretted having to leave its safety, the extra food, water, and the soft, warm cot. But they couldn't stay. Time was against them and they had to get to real safety in Nairobi.

With determination and new resolve Shelly pushed her way through the bushes and took out her little compass, her trustworthy tool that she had come to rely on, and turned north. They walked away from the house and away from the little haven in the hillside, into an unknown future.

This journey north will probably take forever, she thought with resignation, but what else can we do, short of giving up to murderers and cutthroats? Never did those terms seem so real and appropriate. It chilled her blood to think what a human being could do to another, let alone a whole army of them, killing and looting wherever they went.

Shelly watched the little needle steadily pointing northward. How true and dependable this little compass is. Why isn't God that way? As soon as the thought came, she regretted it, but the question lingered. Is He true and dependable? I'd like to think so. Something deep in her soul told her that He was, just that she didn't understand. Well Lord, help me to understand someday and please be with us now as we try to find some safety. And please be with my husband, she added fervently, Amen.

They walked on in silence, the leaves making a soft crunching sound under their feet. Now that she had the children with her, she found she was more diligent looking for danger. It was hard for Faith to remember to be quiet, but she tried.

They hiked through the sparse forest, listening to the monkeys tell each other off, fighting over their food. Tom told Shelly in a soft voice how his daddy had taught him to watch the monkeys and birds in the forest. If danger was near, the monkeys would scream in alarm. It was always safe if you heard them talking to one another. And the birds would take flight if something was wrong. Only when the forest was completely silent did it really terrify him.

After a long hot walk, they stopped to rest. Shelly was carrying Faith and the child was getting heavy. It felt good to put her down as they sat in the shade. Taking out her map, she realized that they should have come across the highway by now. It looked like a four-mile journey from the end of the road on the map. But the Mombasa Road, indeed any road had not appeared. The sounds of the forest continued, but she couldn't hear any traffic noise at all. The terrain was becoming hilly and they would have to start climbing to continue north.

Are we lost? Did I take the right road, yesterday? What if this isn't the road on the map? What if I get lost in the wilderness with the children? Panic started to take hold of her.

With firm determination and resolve she stopped herself from going to pieces and looked at the map again. There's no way I'm going to miss the Mombasa Road when it's traveling northwesterly through the mountains. If my little compass is right and I continue to travel north, I can't fail to find it. We'll eventually come to it. We have to come to it. It's the only marker I can follow out of here.

Shelly gave the children some water, and took a small sip herself, careful to conserve what they had. Then they started hiking up the hill, still trying to follow the little compass. Shelly was getting ready to carry Faith again, when she climbed to the top of a ridge and stumbled through some bushes.

She was shocked to be standing on the shoulder of the highway. She looked left and right. No traffic. The silence was acute. No trucks, cars or transports. It was strange and eerie to be standing on an empty freeway in the afternoon's hot sun with the only sound coming from the forest.

"Quick," she said. "Let's cross to the other side while we can."

They all dashed across the road and stood listening, still no traffic. Shelly turned and looked up the hill.

It's going to be impossible to continue traveling north. The ground is rising steeper and steeper until it ends at that cliff. It's a shear rise to the top.

She looked along the road to the northwest. The paved roadway climbed slowly around the mountains, which rose through the forest canopy into majestic jagged peaks, piercing the sky. Shelly's heart sank when she realized they could no longer travel off the road. They would have to follow the highway somehow.

She didn't need to be told that this was going to be the most dangerous part of their journey. She knew that this road would be the easiest mode of travel for armies needing to move over great distances, at the greatest speed. It was unnerving to find it so empty. When would that change and how fast would they come? She stood there for a few seconds more, frozen in uneasiness and experiencing an eeriness she tried to understand. They walked up the road a little further and found a place to hide. She needed a place to think.

Maybe we should travel by night. We should be able to see a little with the moon being almost full, and we have the flashlight, but should we use it? We can easily come upon someone in the dark, unaware or be attacked by a hungry animal. And I'm not eager to sit here and waste hours until it gets dark.

But, traveling the road in broad daylight is crazy. We could easily be seen by anyone sitting in the hills or by a lookout stationed on this road somewhere.

Shelly exhaled, No... I think we'll have to walk this in the dark, but what about the wild animals? What am I to do, Lord? I have no idea what is best. Jim, where are you? Her heart yearned for his arms, his comfort, and his presence.

As she sat there discerning, she gave the children a little more water and a piece of jerky to chew on. She got out her map and studied it. Following alongside the Mombasa Road was a little black line with tiny hash marks on it. Glancing at the legend, she was surprised to find it was a railroad.

A railroad! she gasped in surprise. Could we take that instead? It seemed to run nearly parallel with the highway, wandering away every now and again.

I wonder if we can find it. Will we be more hidden on it? It looks like it comes near the highway further up this road, if we're in the correct place on the map. Dare we walk on a little further now, in the hopes of finding it? Dear Lord, what if we are caught?

The fear of discovery was so real in this place.

A soft, gentle, voice in her heart prompted her to try.

If the rail line isn't there, we'll find a hiding spot and just stay there for the rest of the day, until it gets dark, she decided. But the idea of walking this highway, day or night, didn't settle well with her at all. She decided to ask the boy.

"Tom, look here," she said as she pointed to a place on the map. "I think we are here, but I'm not sure. This line is the railroad. It may be safer to walk along it than this highway. We'll have to be very careful to listen for any trains. And if we have to cross a trestle or something like that, we'll need to be sure a train isn't coming. What do you think?" she asked him. "Do you think we should try it?"

Tom stood next to her, with his hand on her shoulder and studied the map. "I think God would want us to stay away from where the soldiers might be. They may be on a train, but we can hide if one comes. The trains only use the track once or twice a day, I think. But there is always traffic on the roads. There should be cars and trucks on it all day and all night," he said very wisely, as he looked out at the empty road with a worried look.

Shelly noticed his look and said, "I know. I don't like it either." as the road remained quiet and desolate in the hot African sun.

Tom said in a soft voice that gave Shelly chills down her spine, "We need to find the railroad tracks. I have a bad feeling about the road," he said as he looked her in the eyes with such conviction that it moved her spirit.

The Railway

SHELLY SAT SILENTLY for a second. She knew Tom was right. Something told her they needed to get off the road as soon as possible. She felt it as a profound need.

Quickly packing their things, they cautiously came out of hiding. As they walked on the shoulder in the hot sun, she looked for hiding spots to use, if needed, and tried not to be so frightened.

A few minutes later, in the distance there was an opening between the hills not far from them. A shallow field revealed itself and there it was... the railway line about 100 yards off the road. They had found it!

She was so overjoyed at finding it so soon that she and the children ran to the tracks without looking around them to see if it was safe. The fear inside of her eased some as they climbed up the gravel bank and stepped onto the tracks. Still no manmade sounds could be heard. No traffic, no airplanes, or trains, nothing.

The little group turned left, following the tracks that paralleled the roadway for a while. The sun beat down upon them as they grew thirsty and hungry, but it was too soon to stop. As the railway continued so near the road, Shelly was constantly looking around for danger, but nothing happened.

Shelly picked up a weary and tired little girl, as they walked along the tracks. The railway wove in and round the mountains, foliage crowding close to the tracks. The hours passed and the tracks gently but steadily turned away from the road heading north, soon the Mombasa Road disappeared. Shelly's heart eased and she felt almost happy, if happy could be a word to use while walking with two young children out in the wilderness during a war. They walked along in relative peace. She didn't hear any monkeys, but the sounds of birds calling to one another traveled through the air. It comforted the little group to hear them.

Later that day, the singing of the birds was replaced with the sound of roaring in the distance. Not like a lion or animal, just a constant din of noise. It grew louder as they rounded a gentle curve and observed a train trestle off in the distance. It traversed a canyon with steep sides that cut through the mountain in a deep gash. A large waterfall plunged off the mountain hundreds of feet into the gorge below, in a deafening roar, the white water vanishing into the valley beyond.

Shelly looked at the crossing and her heart sank with the peril of it. Instead of the railway ties being filled with earth and gravel, there was nothing but air in-between them, spanning the abyss. Each tie was more than a foot apart, wide enough for a child to fall through. The roar of the water masked any sound. A train could be coming up behind them right now, blowing its whistle and it wouldn't be heard until it was too late.

If a train should use that bridge while we're trying to cross... she closed her eyes tightly, trying to destroy the image that was forming.

Shelly looked at Tom and she could see his terror. Now what? she thought. Shelly put Faith down and walked the children back down the line, to find a spot to sit and talk about what to do next.

In the shelter of the trees and rocks, Shelly and Faith sat on a fallen log. She turned to Tom and asked him what was wrong. He walked up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes as he told her loud enough to be heard, "I can't be up high. I'm so scared. I can't... I just can't!"

Shelly could see the deep-seated terror in his eyes.

Great! Now what, go back? That idea didn't settle with her at all. She dreaded the hours it would take to go back to that unnerving road.

He can't walk over that trestle. Even if I could get him to try, any slip would be the death of him.

She shuttered at the thought of losing him into the abyss.

Well, I'll have to carry them both across, but can I? If I should lose my balance out there... again she cringed from the horrible thought that was forming.

She looked again. There was nothing to hang onto out there. The trestle rose from the depths as a solid wooden edifice, ending in just rails and ties at the top.

She lowered her head and prayed for an answer, but nothing came. Not sure what to do, she looked out at the structure again and decided to try, somehow. She couldn't go back. Grasping what courage she could find, she said to the boy, "Tom, I'm going to take Faith with me and walk over the trestle. Stay here and stay hidden, okay?"

His eyes grew large and fear swam in the tears that formed there. He nodded his head yes, but all he could think about was that Shelly was taking his sister and leaving him alone on this side of that horrible place.

"I'll come back for you and carry you across," she offered.

Tom's eyes grew even larger. He shook his head no, in very forceful motions.

"Do you want to go back?" she asked him. "We can do that, if you think we should," she told him with a sinking heart, for she really didn't want to go back, but she couldn't and wouldn't force him across that barrier. She wasn't even sure she could carry him, but she had to try.

He sat for a while, stone quiet and still. Then he looked up into her eyes. She could see he was struggling to tell her.

"Tom, I'll carry you piggy-back. I think that will be the safest way to carry you. I know I can do this. Do you want to try it or go back?"

Tears silently slid down his cheeks as he said, "We cannot go back." He paused for a second and then said with conviction, "God does not want us to go back."

Shelly was shocked. How does this little boy know what God wants? Can he hear God? I'm the adult. Shouldn't God be speaking to me? Maybe he is imagining this, but somehow I doubt it. Tom has a faith I don't possess, and when he prays God seems to answer him. He's connected to God in a way I'm not, she thought miserably.

She sat there for a while longer, looking at this special boy, and then she told him gently and with resignation, "Okay, Tom, we'll trust God to keep us safe."

With a sigh and prayer for safety, Shelly made sure she had everything, adjusted the backpack and then knelt down to pick up Faith. She asked the little girl affectionately, "Can you give me a really big hug?" Faith gladly wrapped her arms around her neck. Shelly stood up and requested, "Now wrap your legs around my waist, tight." Shelly wrapped her arms around the child and clasped her fingers together.

"You hold onto me just like this the whole way across, okay?" she asked the little girl. Faith looked at her with her large deep blue eyes, showing the trust she had in the woman that was holding her and nodded yes.

"Close your eyes if you get scared, okay?" she told her softly in her ear.

Faith just held on tighter and placed her face into Shelly's shoulder. Her hat fell off and Tom ran over to pick it up.

"Put it in your sack Tom, will you?" Shelly asked.

He did so without a word and stood there looking small and stoic.

Shelly took a deep breath and turned to give him a large, reassuring smile. With feeling and a vow she said, "Wait here for me. I'll be back, I promise."

Before she got to the trestle, she practiced walking on each tie to see what it was like. She found that it was a wider stride than she was used to, but if she took her time, it wasn't too hard to step on each one. It would be a different story once she was out there over the abyss walking on air, hundreds of feet from the forest floor and the rushing white water.

Please Lord. Keep this track as empty as that highway has been today. Please help me get the children across safely.

With her heart beating firmly, off she stepped onto the railroad ties, as the ground dropped away. She found that if she looked down, she lost all sense of balance. Fear gripped her heart in its deadly embrace. She must look at the next tie and only the next tie. She must concentrate on each step she had to take, one tie at a time, one step at a time. As she approached the waterfall, the roar of it falling at a tremendous speed next to her was disconcerting, and the spray made the wooden structure slippery. However, it was the wind swirling, buffeting, pulling and pushing her that scared her the most. Each step was an agony of fear and determination. How she prayed. How she asked Him for strength and mercy. She talked to Him all the way across. Relief overwhelmed her as she stepped onto railway ties with solid ground in-between.

Shelly carefully stepped off the tracks and cautiously walked to a safe place. She was having a hard time trusting her legs, they were so unsteady. She put Faith down with a big sigh and took off the backpack.

"Faith, this is very important. You must stay here and wait for us. Do you promise to stay here?" she asked the small child.

"I can do that," the Faith said with a big smile.

However, Shelly wasn't convinced. Sometimes a small child doesn't know what is best and ends up doing what they want and not what they should. So, just in case, Shelly took out some jerky, set the child further back in the bush, and left her there chewing on the tough meat, with the canteen of water nearby. Again, she asked Faith to wait for her return.

Please Lord, keep her safe and hidden here.

Shelly stood, looking at the abyss again. She turned to look back at Faith. With a deep breath and more prayer, she started back for Tom. The crossing this time seemed harder. There was nothing substantial to carry this time, which seemed to steady her on the way over. She felt light as a feather. Her legs were sore and they weren't happy doing this again. Out went her arms in an effort to keep herself balanced. An image of flying came to her. That thought both excited her and frightened her. Quickly she snapped out of her wandering thoughts and gave herself over to concentrating on each tie, as she had before.

Out in the middle, her foot slipped on the wet surface and she fell forward onto the ties. By God's grace she caught herself and did not fall through, off or over the structure. Carefully, she pulled herself up and stood on quivering, bruised legs. She was skinned up and her shoulders hurt. Her adrenaline raced through her veins causing her heart to beat powerfully and her skin tingled from her fear.

Step-by-step she again made it over the wooden structure, but the stress of the second crossing had taken its toll. She was truly spent. She needed to rest and recover, but the thought of leaving a 4-year-old child alone on the other side increased her anxiety by the second. She couldn't, wouldn't take the time to rest. She must get back now.

"Are you ready, Tom?" she asked in a husky voice. She could see his deep fear and the courage he was dredging up, after seeing her fall.

Dear Lord, please don't let us fall... she held onto that plea and prayer with all of her heart as she turned to him and gently said, "Here, let's put your father's hat in the bag."

In went the hat. Then he stood there, so young, so scared and so courageous.

"Let me carry the bag. You climb on now and ask God to be with us, okay?" she asked him.

Before he could do anything, she took him in her arms and hugged him with all of her heart. She was growing so fond him. Tom hugged her in return and then got ready for the crossing. He climbed onto her back. His weight was considerable, for he was a healthy 7-year-old boy. She adjusted his weight once and started toward the trestle.

Dear God, please give me the strength, she prayed for she knew her legs were getting weak and wobbly. But she couldn't wait. She had to get back to Faith. Each second she waited could be tragic, one way or another. As she stepped out onto the structure, each step she took was getting harder and harder. The wind buffeted her and she struggled to stay upright, especially with Tom's weight, and the sight of the sheer drop to the valley below.

As they neared the waterfall and the abyss, she knew her legs were about to give out. She feared they were not going to make it. Tom's voice broke at first, then he spoke out loud and clear with the next step she took, "The Lord is my shepherd (step) I shall not want (step) He makes me lie down in green pastures (step) He leads me beside still waters (step) He restores my soul (step)." Shelly felt strength return to her as Tom continued to shout the verse. "He guides me in the paths of righteousness... For His name's sake... Even though I walk... through the valley of death... I'll fear no evil... for Thou art with me... Your rod and Your staff... they comfort me...You prepare a table before me... in the presence of my enemies... You anoint my head with oil... My cup overflows... Surely goodness and mercy... Shall follow me... all the days of my life... And I'll dwell in the house... Of the Lord forever and ever... Amen." They were across.

Shelly put Thomas down on the other side, fell to her knees and hugged him for a very long time. She was so profoundly touched by this boy's courage and faith, and amazed that he knew that Psalm by heart! The words from God's book had given her a strength and courage she had never known. Tears filled her eyes. For the first time, in days, she felt that God was really there and intent on taking care of them. She got up on wobbly legs and quickly joined Faith. The little girl ran up and hugged her brother, while Shelly collapsed near the children. Tears of exhaustion flowed with tears of joy and gratitude for their safe crossing.

"I was a really good girl," Faith said with pride. "I waited right here and didn't move."

Tom sat down and put his arms around his sister. His look of relief and joy was apparent. After a few minutes of rest, Shelly brought out a can of peaches, some jerky and crackers. The fruit tasted so immensely refreshing. They ate the meat and crackers, washing it all down with the juice from the can. With their tummies full, she let them take a long drink of water.

She felt like celebrating. After all... they had traveled a long way today and they were still safe and well. It was so wonderful to be alive and able to enjoy it. She lay on her back and watched the white clouds drift by on a strong current high in the air. As she rested her legs and tried to recover from her ordeal, she began to drift off to sleep.

With a start she realized that they couldn't stay here. She had to find a place to sleep for the night. So, on weary legs she rose, picked up their things and turned toward the railway. The children protested. They were tired and sore.

She turned to them and said, "I'm tired too, but we need to go a little farther and see if we can find a place to sleep tonight. I think we have a few more hours before it gets dark."

The children moaned, but stood and picked up their things. They returned to the tracks and continued walking north. Nairobi still awaited them and the safety it might provide.

Where is my walking stick, she questioned with a start? Then with a sinking heart she remembered she had laid it down on the other side of the trestle.

Well, I'll just have to find another one. I'm certainly not going back now... for any reason!

A few hours later, the sun was behind the hills with dusk developing, when they came across a junction in the tracks. Next to it was a small tool shed. Shelly put Faith down, and ran to it as the children slowly followed. It had a padlock. With a stone, she hit the lock hard, over and over again until it broke.

Inside the small room, she found enough floor space for them to sleep. She pulled out the flashlight, lit the interior and checked for snakes. On the wall hung a kerosene lantern, which she took down and lit with her matches. Setting it on a shelf, she let the children in and shut the door. The sound of the door securely clicking into place made her feel safer. The windowless interior of the shed was pitch-black, except for the light that flickered on the lantern wick. It created eerie shadows in the corners. Shelly sat down against the door, leaned her head back, closed her eyes and thanked God for his provision. She was so grateful they wouldn't have to sleep out in the open tonight.

They were all so weary, the children, especially. They were too tired to eat. Shelly got out the can of peaches, anyway. They consumed the small, simple dinner as the children's eyes started to droop. Out came the jackets and the shirt. Bundled up, the children fell asleep immediately. The not-so-white sack and backpack were used as pillows. Shelly reached up, turned off the lantern, then snuggled next to them in the dark, and fell asleep before her head reached the backpack.

Shelly awoke in the dark. She got up carefully, trying not to disturb the children. Crawling on her knees, she opened the door just a crack. The darkness of night outside was being exchanged for the morning light. The African sun was coming, before long it would be above the horizon and a new day would be here.

I wonder what today will bring. I wonder how far it is now to Nairobi. It's been three days since I left Mombasa and Jim. Dear Lord, please take care of him.

She turned and lit the lantern, then closed the door and sat down on the floor next to the children, pulling out the map.

A wondrous thought manifested itself. How blessed she was to have so much available to her in her time of need. A soft, gentle voice told her that she wasn't really alone. That He was directing her, just like the little compass.

She smiled with the comforting thought. Tom woke and stretched.

"Good morning, Tom. How are you doing?" she whispered softly.

He looked at her with a reflection of pain in his eyes and said, "I miss my mom and dad," simply and from his heart, but he added with sincerity, "But I'm glad you're here. I'm glad we're not alone."

Shelly leaned over and gave him a hug around the shoulders. "I wish this trouble had never come to your parents or to us, but it did. And if it had to happen, then I'm glad I found you two and we can be together. I like being with you and your sister," she said warmly.

Tom smiled and gave a sigh.

"Would you get something ready for us to eat, while I take a look at the map? You can help me decide which way to go, when we leave here," she suggested to Tom. Faith stirred, while Tom opened the backpack and got breakfast ready.

Once they had eaten, they looked at the map together, with Faith sitting on Shelly's lap, Tom leaning against her side, and all peering at the worn out paper. It looked like they were near Kibwezi. At least that was her best guess. Outside the tracks split. She decided it was best to take the tracks on the left. If they were correct, it should continue to take them northwest and stay with the direction of the highway.

If nothing eventful happened today, she hoped to make it to the area of Sultan Hamund by nightfall. The thought of going into a town for help occurred to her again. If they could get help, it was possible they could be in Nairobi and the embassy, tonight. But they also could be captured or worse, and that thought drove out the first. No, as long as they were alive, unhurt and not ill, they are better off alone.

The morning was chilly when they left the shed, while the sun continued on its rise into the sky. Always vigilant, they continued to follow the rails in a wonderland of forest and mountains. Soon the jackets and shirt were packed away. They walked for hours undisturbed, alone in a world that should have been abundant with people, traffic and animals. Tom noticed this the most. He had grown up here and the absence of everything normal was unsettling. Along the way, they were able to refill the canteen using the iodine tablets to purify the water. Lunch was uneventful and the trio was soon walking northward again. Faith was tired, but such a trooper. She tried to be a big girl, but she was worn out and tired. They all were.

In the late afternoon, they came out of the mountains and hills into grasslands on both sides of the track. The Mombasa Road was in the far off distance on their left, out in the open as well. Still no traffic could be seen, nothing stirred. They walked cautiously along the tracks into the tall grass. An occasional Acacia tree spreading its wide thorny branches out into the sky. How exposed Shelly felt as they walked along the tracks into the open. She knew they were too visible, but there was nowhere else to go. They had to continue north and hopefully find shelter for the night. Nothing stirred. She couldn't see a living thing.

Suddenly, thunder rolled. There were no clouds in the sky but the sound didn't diminish. Instead, it grew louder, and louder and the ground started to tremble. Off to their right a huge cloud of dust rose to the sky. She could see a giant heard of beasts with large sharp horns thundering towards them. Frantically Shelly looked for shelter. There was nothing in the open fields to their left. On the right, an ancient tree stood alone hundreds of yards away. Dear Lord, let us make it, she prayed.

She picked up Faith in her arms and turning to Tom yelling, "Quick, we have to make it to that tree!"

As they ran towards the tree, the herd thundered towards them. Shelly made it there with Tom close behind. She pulled the boy near, placed him with Faith, crouched over them and wrapped her arms around the children just as the herd of Wildebeests went racing pass them at high speed. It was terrifying, dusty, and thunderous. The tree acted like the bow of a ship, parting the herd as it went by. She felt them bump her and smelled the hot breath of the animals as they raced by. The ground shook. It shook so hard her teeth rattled. Time stopped, as the pounding continued. Then silence.

A thick layer of dust covered the trio. Shelly began to wipe it out of their eyes and mouths, but almost immediately, the ensuing silence was shattered with loud booms in the distance, coming from the north. Whistling sounds flew overhead. Huge explosions rattled the earth just south of them. She turned to look and saw tanks coming. They were firing their rounds in turn overhead to the north. Ear shattering explosions went off in rapid succession. The earth shuddered deep within and withered in the ensuing fire and smoke which rose into the African sky.

Dear Lord, we're caught in the middle of a battle! she screamed in her mind. Tears were in Tom's eyes and Faith started to cry. Shelly grabbed Faith up into her arms and, taking hold of Tom's hand, looked frantically around for a place to hide. A shallow ravine revealed itself just a few yards away. It was just a dry creek bed where water ran during the rainy season, but it would provide some cover. They needed to get out of there, and fast. They ran across the opening and into the gully keeping as low as possible.

Just as they got there, some of the tanks turned and started to fire at the railway line. They're trying to destroy everything! she grieved in her heart. Dirt flew everywhere and the sound was deafening. Shelly's ears rang. The grass burst into flame, and the fire spread rapidly, destroying everything in its path. They choked on the dust and smoke.

As the trio crouched in the little ditch, Tom noticed a shiny object in the soil near Shelly's feet. He picked it up and discovered it was the little compass. She must have just dropped it. He was about to give it to her when she stood up and started to run again. He quickly put it in his pocket, and ran after her. She turned and grabbed at his hand, not wanting to lose him in the chaos.

As the smoke became denser, they continued to run away from the railway that had been their temporary life-line and guide. They ran among flames that consumed everything in its path... grass, trees and brush. The heat was so intense, it hurt to breath. Faith was so scared now that she had stopped crying. Her eyes were huge and round with fear. Tom just kept close to Shelly, holding on for dear life.

As they ran, the violence and destruction waned as they left the battlefield. Then, out of the smoke, a tank appeared ahead of them. Shelly stopped so fast, that Tom crashed right into her. It fired over their heads and then started moving, making a squeaky metal-grinding sound. Shelly turned to run away from it.

Then, an explosion so loud, so violent, tore her world apart. Shelly didn't hear or see anything more. She was now gone from the world of war and her two charges.

Not Alone

TOM WAS BRUTALLY thrown to the ground. How long he lay stunned, he didn't know, but he was unhurt when he became aware of his surroundings. He rose to his feet, and looked around, finding his sister lying nearby. He leaned over and shook her, but there was no response. He called her name, but she didn't answer. Grief filled his heart, was she dead? Then he saw Shelly. She was lying in a heap. Blood flowed down her face in little rivers onto the ground. Her body looked like a ragdoll tossed to the floor by an angry child. Her left arm lay next to her in an abnormal position. She looks like daddy, he thought in fear and anguish... dead.

Suddenly, he remembered the tank. He turned in terror to see what the tank was doing. It lay in ruins with its top blown away. A gaping hole exposed its innards and fire was consuming it like a hungry giant. The trees and the fields around them were ablaze, while smoke swirled in the air, blocking out the sun. Yet the fire had not touched them. It had burned everything near them and then moved on.

A moan next to him caused him to whirl around. Faith cried... loud and hard. The force of the blast had knocked her out. But there were no broken bones that he could see.

It was a different story with Shelly. He tried to see if she was breathing, but there was no movement in her chest. Tears slid silently down his dirty, sooty face as he sat next to the woman he had come to depend upon. Her kindness and affection had comforted him. He liked being with her. The grief of losing his mother and father was now compounded by loss of this gentle lady.

What should he do now? He retrieved the dirty white bag and took out the towel. With the knife from Shelly's belt he cut a strip of cloth, and then another. He folded one into a thick pad. He then tried to place the pad on the head wound and secure it with the other piece of towel. He couldn't bear to watch the bleeding continue. He didn't believe she was alive. He just wanted to stop the flow from her head. The bleeding stopped, but she never moved, never moaned, never breathed.

Tom sat in the smoky haze with Faith, still crying by his side, trying to figure out what to do. Everything was quiet now, except for Faith and the roaring of the fire as it consumed the tank and the surrounding countryside. The battle had stopped and he couldn't tell in the smoke what was going on. The world seemed empty and dead.

Unexpectedly, he saw silhouettes of four men in the smoke. Tom's heart pounded. He tried to hush Faith, but she wouldn't be consoled. She was terrified from the battle, the fire, and her pain. Three of the men appeared extremely tall and held long sticks in their hands as they walked concealed in the haze. The wind shifted, the smoke revealing three Maasai warriors and a young black man dressed in Western clothes.

The Maasai were very tall indeed, wearing the traditional Shuka, a long red cloth wrapped around their waist and another over the shoulder. They were carrying long stout spears with wide oblong blades which looked quite sharp. Their hair was the color of red ocher and pulled back severely from their faces in small braids that hung down the back of their heads. They decorated their hair and neck with ornaments and beads. These men appeared tall, fierce and majestic in this desolate place.

The young man, dressed in Western clothes, raised both of his hands, as if to surrender, and walked quickly over to Tom.

"Don't be afraid," he said in excellent English as he knelt down. "We have come to help, if we can. We heard the child crying. Are you all right?"

Tom just sat there, not sure what to do.

"You must get her to stop crying or we may be found by bad men," he told Tom. "It's very dangerous here. My name is Benjamin Sauto. I'm a missionary with Samaritan's Purse working at the Enguli compound."

Tom reached over, took Faith by the shoulders and shook her gently as he firmly said, "You must stop crying. It's important for you to be quiet now, so no more fire and loud noises will come, okay?" Faith's little eyes got large and her immediate silence was acute. You could see she didn't want the fire or explosions to happen anymore. Sniffles were the only sounds the child made now.

"We must get you out of here as quickly as we can," Benjamin stated quietly, looking around in concern.

Then he noticed Shelly lying near the children, with a makeshift bandage on her head. He went over to her, put his fingers on her wrist, and tried to find a pulse.

"Is this your mother?" he asked.

"No," answered Tom. "She was a good friend. I think she's dead," he said tearfully. "My mother and father died a few days ago. She was trying to get us to Nairobi, to help and safety," he added.

"She isn't dead. I feel life in her still," he told Tom. Just then Shelly opened her eyes and moaned in pain. Focusing her eyes, she could see a stranger bending over her. She pulled her hand away in fear, but in that movement the pain in her head and other arm was overpowering and she cried out in anguish.

Tom quickly got up, went over to her and knelt down beside her. "I... I thought you were dead," he said overjoyed as he picked up her good hand and held it. Shelly laid there with her eyes closed. She just squeezed his hand in warm affection.

Opening her eyes she asked weakly, "Who's this?"

"This is Benjamin. He is a missionary and he's come to help us," Tom told her proudly, as though he was saying... see God has provided again.

Benjamin turned to Tom and said, "I want to take you, your sister and this lady to the clinic, but we need to fix her arm first. It's broken. We must hurry," he said apprehensively as he took off his backpack and laid it on the ground.

Shelly closed her eyes again, Someone to help me at last, she thought greatly relieved.

As he bound her head wound, he said to Shelly, "I'm a nurse practitioner at the compound. I have to set your arm before we go. It will be too painful to move you, otherwise."

He turned to the warriors and said something in Swahili, their native tongue. The men came over and helped Shelly sit up. One sat down behind her, back-to-back, so she could lean against him. Another helped to hold her down, while Benjamin got ready to set the arm. The third man took off a leather strap from his Shuka.

"Put this in your mouth and try not to make a sound," Benjamin said. "We are still in a battlefield and the smoke is starting to dissipate. We've got to get out of here now," he said forcefully as Shelly accepted the strap in between her teeth. She took a deep breath, said a quick prayer and closed her eyes, biting hard on the leather.

Benjamin pulled, strong and firm for a few seconds. It snapped into place. A deep moan escaped her, but the sound didn't carry far. Benjamin took out an Ace bandage and gently wrapped her arm against her body to keep it immobile.

"I'm sorry, but we'll fix your arm properly, back at the clinic." he said quietly.

Shelly was weak from the loss of blood and pain. One of the men took his Shuka off his shoulders. They tied both ends of the long garment into secure knots, and then placed two spears through the loops. They helped her gently to her feet and had her sit in the sling, while two of the warriors held it upon their shoulders.

Benjamin bent down to picked up Faith. She started to protest and squirmed in his arms. Tom quickly said, "You need to let him carry you. We have to get away from here fast."

But, she didn't want him to carry her. Tom said in firm tones, "Okay, you can stay here... alone! If you can't be good, we can't take you with us!" he said resolutely, though he really didn't mean it. "We have to go fast. He must carry you. He must!" Tom said forcefully.

Faith was about to cry and make a fuss. This day had been too much for her. She was tired, sick, sore, and had been scared out of her wits.

Shelly pulled on the back of Benjamin's shirt. He turned with the child struggling in his arms and starting to cry. Shelly reached up for Faith with her good arm and said softly, "She can ride with me. Put her on my good side, okay?"

With relief Benjamin complied. The little girl snuggled into her cozy nest with the woman she was coming to trust and depend on.

In this way, Shelly and Faith were carried for miles away from the battlefield. The men walked in long smooth strides that covered the ground at a great speed. Tom trotted alongside the men, trying to keep up, as they departed the scene of war as quickly as possible. The heavy smoke from the fires had moved on, but a smoggy haze remained.

Suddenly, the sound of jets flying low over the hills roared into the air above them. They took cover by the nearest trees that had been missed by the fire. The jets screamed over the scene of the battle and flew out of sight.

"Stay low and still, they will come back," said Benjamin with apprehension.

The jets were streaking back as he spoke. As they reappeared, rocket launchers from the ground somewhere to the south were fired at the flying machines of death. Booms could be heard in the north once more as the shells were launched overhead. The sounds of bombs, gunfire and shelling started all over again, as the war continued. The jets fired rockets into the enemy nearby with loud, forceful explosions, sending dirt and debris into the air. They disappeared over the mountains with a screeching roar.

Quickly, the small group left their cover and continued east. The sound of battle subsided, faded, and then was gone entirely as they made rapid progress over the grasslands.

Faith snuggled onto Shelly whimpering. Shelly tried to hush her, providing comfort by softly praising her for being so good. Faith eventually slept. Shelly didn't see much of the trip that day, either. She endured her rescue, with her eyes closed, being sick to her stomach, weak, and her head aching as the pain ran down her jaw and into her body.

Hours later, they arrived at a Maasai village, late in the day. Shelly opened her eyes and watched as the group entered an enclosure made of brush with long ugly thorns. She later learned that it was called an Enkang and was made out of acacia tree branches that possessed 3 to 6 inch long thorns. The whole village, along with their herds of cattle and goats, were kept inside this thorny enclosure to protect them from predators and thieves. Once inside the enclosure, she could see small round mud huts with thick, thatched roofs to one side of the village. Smoke rose from cooking fires into the evening sky.

Shelly learned many things about the Maasai from Benjamin, that night. It seemed strange to her that a Maasai man would consider it a sign of wealth to have as many wives and cattle as he could acquire. They believed that God had given them all the cattle in the world and it was their duty to take them wherever they found them, whether wild or owned by someone else. Each wife of a Maasai warrior, built her own mud hut, called a Boma, for herself and her children. This was done over and over again as the village picked up and moved to greener pastures. It was also a surprise that the men normally slept outside together.

What a peculiar people. Yet courage, fortitude and strength seem to be an integral part of the Maasai.

Shelly was assisted from the sling and helped to a wooden bench next to a Boma. Faith crawled up next to her and sat quietly, watching the activity of the village around her with interest.

A beautiful tall woman with large warm eyes came up to Benjamin. He spoke to her in Swahili and then he turned to Tom and said, "Tom, this is Nalangu, the youngest wife of Sironka. That is Sironka there," he said as he pointed out one of the Maasai that had helped them. His hair was graying at the temples through the red ocher coloring, but he looked strong and wise.

"Nalangu is going to take you and Faith into her home tonight. As soon as I finish here with Mrs. Ferguson, she'll join you there. I'll sleep with the men. But before you go, I have asked her to help you and Faith wash up and give you something to eat. Would that be okay?" he asked the boy.

"Yes, please," said Tom with gratitude. "I'll help my sister."

"Good," said Benjamin with satisfaction.

As Tom walked over to take his sister from Shelly, Faith started to protest.

Shelly turned to the child and said tenderly, "Sweetheart, you go with your brother now, get washed up and have something to eat. There is going to be a soft bed for you to sleep on tonight and I'll be there in just a few minutes, okay?"

Faith sniffed a couple of times and wiped the tears from her dirty face. A tired, hurt and exhausted little girl got off the bench to walk beside her brother in silence as she held onto his hand. Shelly had a lump in her throat as she watched the two parentless children walk away together, so young and alone in this world.

I wonder what will happen to them? I hope their grandmother can take care of them all right. I wish I could be there to see what life has in store for them. Suddenly, she wanted to. I do want to be part of it, somehow, if I can. That thought took her by surprise, but took root in her heart.

Benjamin carefully took the crusty bandage off and looked at the wound, which started to bleed again. Earlier that day, he had taken time to set stiches in the worst of her wounds. Now, he gently washed them out with antiseptic, applied antiseptic powder and then applied sterile gauze strips to them again. Shelly's face was turning a dark color on her forehead, around her left eye, and onto her cheek, where the blood seeped under the skin from her head wound.

"I don't think your wounds are very bad, they just look ugly and like to bleed. Still, we'll take x-rays when we reach the clinic tomorrow. You're very lucky it wasn't worse. There's a large knot on the back of your head where you hit something or something hit you. That's what knocked you out. Your pupils aren't dilated so I think the blow to your head isn't severe, but I'll keep an eye on you tonight. We'll check you out thoroughly at the hospital," he concluded.

Then Tom came back with a container of water and part of their towel.

"May I help you wash?" he asked the tired, wounded woman sitting on the bench.

Shelly was touched by his compassion. I'm becoming very fond of you Thomas. She beamed a large smile of gratitude and then let the boy gently wash her face, neck and her good arm.

Oh, how I would love a good, long, hot bath and soak, then a big soft bed to sleep in for a week. And Jim... tears filled her eyes. How she missed him, her husband and partner. Her need to find him, to know he was alright, to get him back was always close to her thoughts. How often had a prayer been expressed for him in the last few days, how hard it was not knowing... not knowing if he was hurt, scared or even alive in this world of war. Shelly sighed. She could do nothing, nothing but wait and continue north, as soon as it was possible for her to travel.

Tom brought her a bowl of Ugali. Shelly looked at him with a quizzical look. "It's a type of mush made of maize and water," he told her. He helped her eat the mush and then gave her a cup of fresh goat's milk. Shelly was surprised and delighted how good everything tasted. She felt so much better after eating. Her head still throbbed and her arm ached, but she was glad to be with people who were willing to help. Benjamin gave her some medication to help with the pain and then disappeared to tend to his own needs.

Shelly leaned her head against the Boma and closed her eyes. The sun had left for the night, illuminating the stars by the millions, while the moon rose, large and brilliant into the nocturnal sky.

Another night in the African wilderness, but not alone this time. No, not alone... Thank you Lord.

Enguli Compound

SHELLY OPENED HER eyes. She lay in pitch black darkness, except for a soft orange light filtering into her dark world from the opening to the hut. The smell of smoke rose into the air from the cooking fires. As the pain from her injuries returned, she closed her eyes in answer to it. Soft voices could be heard talking outside.

Well, if I'm not going to get any more rest, I might as well get up. She was stiff, sore, her arm ached, and her head started throbbing in pain again, but she was alive and able to move.

That's a blessing in itself, isn't it.

Slowly she walked to the entrance of the hut. As she stood there, she observed that the voices belonged to Benjamin, Sironka and a few other men from the village. It was early morning and the sun was just peeking above a hazy, smoky horizon. It glowed through the haze in a vibrant red hue. She smelled a denser, more acrid smoke outside. The raging fires from yesterday's battle must still be burning in the hills and grass lands around them, filling the air with a sooty smog.

Then she watched a tall Maasai run into the village and stop in front of her Boma to talk to the small group of men. He talked excitedly, in a soft voice while breathing heavily from his running. After the runner left, Benjamin noticed her nearby and walked over to her.

"We have to leave soon," he said. "The runner, Abashi, is one of several scouts that the village sent out to watch the fighting and alert us to danger. He just informed us that the militant army is still moving north. They have destroyed everything around Chomboni and are heading toward Kyemundu. It's probably only a matter of time before they reach here and eventually Enguli and the clinic," he said worriedly.

"I'll get the children ready," was all that she said as she turned to wake them up.

They ate a quick breakfast of cornmeal porridge with fresh goat's milk and drank a strong, sweet tea with more milk. The whole village was in chaos as they prepared to leave, gathering their livestock and packing their few possessions. An air of anxiety and distress covered the preparations. The Maasai were a nomadic people, used to going from one place to another, but not in war, not in such a hurry, and not without knowing where to go. Shelly ached for them and their future. She knew Sironka, and the rest of the elders, would look out for their people to the best of their ability. She just hoped it would be enough to keep them safe.

The little trio thanked their quiet and gentle hostess. Shelly expressed her desire for Nalangu's safety and the safety of her whole family. In fact, in Shelly's heart, she desired that the whole village would find a safe place to go, but she was afraid for them. She was afraid for herself and those that she loved and was coming to love. How could she bear it if something happened to Tom or Faith now? Her eyes filled with tears and her heart ached with the impossible, uncertain answers.

Shelly refocused on the task at hand, and calmed herself as she continued getting ready to go. Do we have everything we had with us yesterday? She went over the items in her mind. Yes, we're ready, she thought as she sat on the bench with Faith next to her and Tom nearby.

Using the sling again, for speed, they left a few moments later. Tom rode on the back of Jumbawai, one of the warriors, with Faith happy in the arms of Sironka, this time. Benjamin, Sironka and a few of his fellow warriors had agreed to help them reach the Enguli Compound as soon as possible. Benjamin was in a hurry to get back to the clinic and the Maasai were eager to return to their families.

Shelly was carried through the tall grass and past an occasional acacia tree with quick, long strides. The cool morning turned warm with the rising of the sun. Benjamin walked quickly on one side of Shelly, while Sironka carried his little "dhahabu mtoto", Swahili for golden child, on the other.

Just before noon, the compound came into view. Benjamin was relieved to see it unchanged. Sironka turned to Benjamin and spoke to him quickly, as he put Faith down.

"This is as far as they will go," Benjamin told Shelly. "They need to leave now." Shelly got out of the sling. The men recovered the fabric and spears, quickly said goodbye and broke into a long, looping run that ate up the ground. In seconds the Maasai disappeared into the grass lands of Kenya. To what fate they ran, only God knew.

The four turned as one and headed toward the structures. Shelly noticed the compound consisted of three rectangular buildings placed in a "U" formation, with whitewashed clay walls, and metal roofs. Wooden shutters were secured in the open position onto the dusty walls, leaving the glassless windows open. The largest building in the center turned out to be the clinic, with the two smaller ones, on either side, the school and living quarters.

"Normally, there would be Maasai children everywhere," Benjamin said. "They come from miles around to be taught here, but the war has changed all of that," he said sadly. "The Maasai and I were coming from a village of burned out bomas when we found you. There was nothing we could do for the people there. If they didn't escape, they were murdered," he said miserably. "Ethnic cleansing, or any type of prejudice, is such a horrible disease. It destroys for no other reason than hate!" he said in anguish. "It's such a waste of life."

As they neared the clinic, they heard weeping and crying coming from inside. Two men, wearing blooded bandages, stood by the entrance. They gave way as the small group entered the structure. In the room that served as a reception area, a young woman lay on a makeshift stretcher, burned and disfigured. A small bundle lay next to her that must have been a child that no longer lived, for Shelly could see a small hand visible in the cloth. It appeared that the young woman had just died, as a nurse was pulling a sheet over her unseeing face. Crying in grief by her side were those that loved her.

Sitting and leaning against the walls of the room were wounded and traumatized individuals, mostly women and children. They were waiting for help from the few nurses in the room. Shelly's heart cringed at the sight. Tears formed in her eyes as she listened to the heart-breaking sound of anguish and pain.

She strongly desired to help them, but what could she do? Nothing, but pray. But, how could she pray to a God that would continue to let this happen to the weak and innocent? To children! Oh, how she ached to take the little ones into her arms. Why didn't His heart ache for them like hers did? He was God. He had the power to stop this. He had the authority to never let it happen in the first place. Where was He in all of this? Shelly ached with the crushing doubt that was building against the God she thought she knew and worshiped. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for help and understanding. She wanted so much to understand why.

A nurse looked up from bandaging an arm and gave a broad smile of relief when Shelly's group entered the room. She ran over to Benjamin and threw her arms around his neck.

"This is my wife, Blessing," he said to Shelly and the children, as she clung to him.

"Blessing, why are you still here? Why haven't you left for Nairobi? Did Dr. Emery get away all right?" he asked his wife, as he placed her on her feet.

"The Jeep and van were taken the night you left and the hospital bus hasn't returned. Dr. Emery cannot leave! We cannot leave! We are stranded here," she said fearfully. "We tried to call the main office for help, but the phone lines don't work. We can't find help anywhere. Everyone has fled or lay dying here," she said with a hiccup in her voice.

Benjamin hugged her tight and said softly into her hair, "It'll be all right. Take a deep breath. I'm here. God is here. God will provide, you know He always has," he said reassuringly. "Since Dr. Emery is still here, we need him to look at Mrs. Ferguson. She was hurt during an explosion and her left arm is broken. These two children should be checked out, as well. This is Tom and this is Faith," he said as he pointed the children out. "Is he in the back?" Benjamin inquired.

"He is in ward 'C' operating on a patient with gunshot wounds. Mrs. Kimaru is due anytime. And we have two new patients with broken bones and burns in ward 'A' that need attending to, and then there are these..." she said with apprehension and exhaustion, as she pointed out those waiting along the wall.

"Don't worry funny face," he said affectionately as he reached down and gave her a kiss on the check. "I'll get Mrs. Ferguson and the children settled and come back to help."

The pretty little nurse smiled broadly at the loving term and said, "I'm so glad you're back and safe!"

Shelly interrupted them and said to Benjamin, "I can take the children and find a place to get out of your way. I'm doing fine right now and I don't need immediate help. Just point me toward the kitchen. I'll get the children something to eat and we can stay there for now."

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," he responded gently. "I want to take a few x-rays of your injuries and a head injury is nothing to play with."

He turned to Blessing and asked, "Where's Momma Blessing? Can she watch the children, while I get Mrs. Ferguson taken care of?"

"I last saw Momma in the kitchen," she answered as she gave him another hug and swiftly walked back to her patient. "You know she would love to watch the children," she said as she knelt down to continue her treatment.

Benjamin picked up his backpack and guided his charges down the hall between the wards. He found an empty bed in one of the rooms and directed Shelly to sit there and wait for him. He would be right back.

He then took the children out the back door of the clinic, along a dirt path lined with white painted stones, to a small building standing in the dust by itself. It looked like the other buildings, except it was the size of a large shed. Inside this one-room building stood a wood stove, tables, chairs, and benches. Cupboards hung on the walls holding various goods and supplies. A large metal sink was set in a wooden counter at the back of the room. The open window above it, indeed all the open windows allowed a small breeze to move through the room, while flies buzzed, here and there.

Momma Blessing worked over the hot stove preparing a meal for the compound. She looked up as the little group entered her dominion. She smiled a large warm smile when she saw the children. She loved all humans, but children were her special favorites.

She was a large, elderly woman of ample girth. Her perspiring face had laugh lines and plump cheeks, but her eyes were her most striking feature, they sparkled. You could see happiness and a vibrancy shining through her eyes that was startling and exciting at the same time. Benjamin introduced her to the children and they took to her immediately. He left them there in her tender care and returned to the clinic.

"How are you feeling," he asked Shelly as he entered the ward.

Shelly was lying down on a bed, her eyes closed. "I do hurt a little... still," she responded quietly. He could tell she was in pain. She looked pale and drawn. He took her blood pressure and pulse, and then he asked her to change into a hospital gown.

As Shelly disrobed, she noticed the cross still hanging over her heart. She wrapped it in the palm of her hand and closed her eyes, remembering Jim and all that had happened. Then she realized that if she hadn't forgotten it, she would have been with the other women and children placed in that truck. It could have been her lying dead on the ground, if she had tried to get to her husband.

At least I'm not a prisoner or hostage. She said a prayer, took a deep breath, and put on the dressing gown.

As Benjamin developed the x-rays, he asked a nurse to give Mrs. Ferguson a sponge bath. Thoroughly cleaned, her head wound redressed, she lay quietly until Benjamin returned and said the break in her arm was a clean one and all they had to do was put it into a cast. While he was plastering her arm, he told her the children were being fed and in the care of Blessing's mother. They would be well looked after. He put her to bed, gave her a sedative, and left her to rest.

Benjamin had no idea how much time they had before they would be exposed to the war again. It could be a matter of hours or maybe days, no one knew. But he knew she needed to sleep. Everyone needed to rest, but there just wasn't enough time for some of them. The hurt and dying were waiting for him. So many people needed his help. So many lives were being destroyed. At least one person would be able to rest.

Benjamin prayed for rescue and then entered the clinic's reception room, joining his wife in triage.

* * * *

Shelly awoke as the late afternoon sun streamed into the ward. As she looked around with interest, she noted there seemed to be about six or seven beds in the room, three on one side and three or four on the other. She couldn't tell for sure because there were dividing curtains hanging from the ceiling drawn around most of the beds.

As she lay there, she heard breathing sounds from someone lying in the bed next to her. Someone else moaned softly in pain across the room. She closed her eyes to her own pain, trying to drive back the discomfort. But it was no good. She was hurting, hungry and missing the children. She got up cautiously and dressed as carefully as she could. Her arm in the cast felt cumbersome and awkward. She looked around for something to use as a sling. Finding an ace bandage, she wrapped it several times around her neck and arm.

This will have to do for now, she thought to herself. She wanted to eat, take a pain pill, see the children and find out what was going on, in that order.

Shelly looked out into the hall. It was empty. She could hear voices in the reception area. They must still be helping those poor people out in the clinic. But, I don't hear the children.

Then she heard a child laughing somewhere outside.

Walking down the hall, to the back door, she discovered Tom and Faith playing next to a large, ample woman sitting on a bench, under a beautiful tree covered with yellow flowers. Sparse weeds grew in the dust near the base of the tree. The woman shucked peas into a large bowl on her lap. Small, colorful chickens where scratching at her feet and consuming the pea pods as fast as she was throwing them to the ground.

As Shelly walked out the back door, Tom and Faith looked up and dropped what they were doing to run to her side. She tried to kneel down to hold them, but her head started to throb in painful bursts. Returning to a standing position, she held her head with her good hand. Then she reached down to stroke Faith's hair as the child clung to her leg, chattering away like most four-year-olds can. Tom just stood by her side smiling affectionately at her, for he could see she was hurting.

"How are you doing Mrs. Ferguson?" he asked softly.

"I think it's about time you called me Shelly," she answered just as softly. "I would like you to, Tom."

"Okay... Shelly," he responded with a wide grin.

Shelly returned his with a larger grin of her own.

The children walked her over to the woman sitting on the bench and introduced her as Momma Blessing.

"You have the same name as Benjamin's wife," Shelly said with a smile.

"In my country, the mothers are called by the name of their first born daughter. Blessing is mine," she said with a cheerful, warm smile, her eyes twinkling with a brightness of mind and spirit.

"Oh, I didn't know. What a cute custom," Shelly offered.

"Come, child, you look like you could use a good, hardy cup of soup," the large woman offered warmly as she stood up.

"I am hungry," Shelly responded as her stomach sounded its demands.

Momma Blessing took Shelly into the kitchen and fed her a warm bowl of soup, made of chicken, kidney beans and all kinds of vegetables, with a slice of homemade bread served with goat's cheese. A glass of fresh goat's milk was given to the wounded guest.

Shelly ate everything. It was wonderful and she felt so much better after eating the good meal. Tom and Faith sat at the table, chatting with her and content to be near her again.

"Have you heard anything new about the war?" asked Shelly through a mouthful of fresh bread.

"Not recently," Momma Blessing replied, sitting in a large rocking chair near the open door. "We haven't been able to get a message out and no one has come into the clinic since you arrived this morning. But, I'm not concerned. Everything will work out according to Gods' will," she said with conviction.

Momma Blessing noticed a dark shadow cross Shelly's face and a look of hurt and anger was clearly visible. The large woman, with a knowing look, determined right then and there to help Shelly somehow.

When Shelly had finished eating, Momma Blessing cleaned up the kitchen and then put some green beans in a bowl.

"It's cooler outside, let's go sit on the bench for a while," she suggested. "Would you take this outside for me?" she asked Tom as she handed the bowl to him.

"Sure," he replied as he and Faith ran out the door, the two women following at an unhurried pace.

Momma B, as some called her, helped Shelly to sit down. Then she took a seat beside the wounded American... wounded in more ways than one, in her opinion.

As the two women sat under the tree, with the children playing nearby, Shelly placed her head against the building wall and closed her eyes. It was so relaxing to just sit on the bench, guarded from the African sun by the shade of the beautiful, fragrant tree. The chickens made soft clucking noises as they resumed their pecking in the hunt for more food. Warm breezes softly blew around them once in a while, bringing a faint smell of smoke.

Path Of Choice

"I COULDN'T HELP seeing some pain and hurt on your face, when I mentioned God's will a little while ago. Would you like to talk about it?" the old woman asked.

Shelly was startled by her question. "Was I that obvious?" she asked looking at the woman next to her.

Momma Blessing smiled an understanding smile. "It seems like I have known God all my life. And, when I was 18 years old, I became a missionary and dedicated myself to serving Him. It's been 45 years now and I have loved, cried, taught, prayed and bled for hundreds of God's children. It would be a blessing to help you, if I can," she offered. "No pun intended," she added chuckling with mirth.

Shelly smiled at the small joke and then the sadness returned. She closed her eyes again and breathed deeply.

"How do I start? What can I say?" she said with a heavy heart. "I have grown up in a country that is truly blessed. We know so little about war, true hunger or want. I have always believed in God's blessings and His protection. But how can I now? I have seen so much death and pain to innocent people, especially women and children. Death has found good people and taken them. Why? God seems so cold and heartless now. It breaks my heart to think of Him that way, but what can I do in the face of what I have seen. People maybe dying at this clinic as we speak and my faith is dying with them," she ended miserably with tears of grief.

"Oh," was all that the old woman said. She sat there for a second or two and seemed to be saying a silent prayer.

Then she said, "Let me see if I understand you correctly... because there is death and suffering here, to innocent people, you feel God is cold and heartless," she asked Shelly.

Shelly just sat there with her eyes closed, tears silently sliding down her face as she nodded yes.

"The Bible tells us God is love. Just like I'm a woman, no matter what I do, I cannot change that, it's what I am. So, God is love. He does not choose to love, He is love. He grieves most deeply for those that suffer, but there is a higher purpose to this life than the safety and happiness that we seek here. It's our relationship with Him that matters."

"Death and suffering entered our world because of sin and our hard-heartedness toward God," she explained. "We have turned our backs on Him. He hasn't turned His back on us. Once sin entered our world, death came with it. And death will find us all, every one of us. No one can stay here for very long. But, for those who find God and trust in His Son, He has promised that death cannot keep us and that He will bring us into His new garden, to be with Him. That is where heaven lies now... there with Him and not here on this sad old fallen world."

"He is trying to rescue us, not leave us here," she continued. "And for a God who is Majestic and Holy, He has gone to extraordinary lengths to reach us, through His Son Jesus."

Shelly sat there looking at the elderly woman with questions and yearning still in her eyes.

Then Mamma Blessing asked, "How do you see life here on this planet?" she asked. "Why are we here? From your point of view..." she continued.

That question surprised Shelly. She had never given it much thought, at least not deeply. "I'm not sure... I guess we are here to live a good life. I suppose God is in it somewhere. Yes... a good life, blessed by God," she finished lamely.

"Well... actually I think it's just the opposite. I think we are here to bless others and not be blessed ourselves. It's not a requirement that we be blessed. The only blessing that we should look for in this life... is the blessing of finding God and worshiping our Creator," Momma B said softly. "That's the testing."

Shelly had a searching expression on her face, "What testing?" she asked.

Momma B smiled warmly and answered, "Well, the way I see it... Because our ancestors didn't appreciate their unique communion with God, in that wonderful garden, and didn't trust Him enough to obey Him, our perfect life here changed into one of testing. God wants to see which path each person will choose in this life and there are only two paths to choose from."

"One path is broad and easy. It's the one most people take on this Earth. They can do what they want, be their own masters and govern their lives according to their own wishes. They can make up any religion they want. They can hate, be greedy, cheat, steal and kill, to one degree or another. Or they can even be good people, if you can call leaving God out of your life good."

"The other path is found by those who answer God's call and truly seek Him. Those who really want to know Him and be with Him. This path is narrow and it leads to a single door. That door is Jesus, whose blood covers our disease of sin and allows us to pass into the real life awaiting us now, on the other side with our loving God. But, that path is narrow for a reason. We cannot do what we want. We must forgive when we are hurt, love when that person doesn't deserve it, be patient and kind and help those who need it, wherever we find it," she concluded.

"Oh..." was all that Shelly said. Then she added, "But why does He allow so much misery and death, why war?" she asked sadly.

Momma Blessing sat there for a second with a clear, intelligent, compassionate look in her eyes and then said, "God does not desire these things, but because of the testing, it must exist."

The old woman continued, "Satan is the destroyer, the bringer of darkness and hate. Evil is the cause of all that is painful and deadly here. God is the creator and giver of life, light and love. It's because Satan is in this world that misery, death and war exist. Do you hate anyone, Shelly?" the wise woman asked.

"What?" Shelly asked in astonishment. "No, not really... I mean... I guess I hate those people who are doing all the killing..." her voice died away in uncertainty.

"Then in the eyes of the world you are correct, but in God's eyes you are not," she said gently. "For the life of a Christian, who believes in God and commits to following Him, we must live by His Spirit. That means you must show that you are His by what you do. Your witness to the world is to LOVE and not hate or murder; to show JOY in all that He provides and not grumble; to bring PEACE to your world and to prevent war if you can; to show KINDNESS instead of meanness or revenge; to give out GOODNESS instead of selfishness and greed; to be FAITHFUL to God instead of yourself; to be GENTLE instead of cruel; and to show SELF-CONTROL, not selfishness."

"Life is a choice, my child," she continued. "What path you choose makes all the difference. You can choose the path that most people choose on this Earth. It's wide and easy to follow. It allows you to do what you want, to hate whom you wish and to take what you want. It allows war, death, starvation, theft and destruction. You can do anything and everything, as long as you leave God out of it."

"But, if you choose God and His way, you must walk the narrow path of a Christian, as our Lord Jesus did. It's not an easy path to follow, for its way is constricted and hard to stay on. It's measured by God's standards, which He gave to Moses on Mount Sinai. Do you know them?" she asked Shelly.

"What? Are you talking about the Ten Commandments? Yes, I think so... Not all of them, I guess," she replied feebly.

"Child, I would learn them. You can't be saved by them, Jesus can only do that, but they are important if you want to see if you are on the narrow path. Ask yourself this..."

"Is God the only one I follow in my life or do I have other things that I listen to?"

"Is God the only one I worship, or are there other things in my life that I love and respect deeply?"

"Do I speak God's name in honor, or do I use His name in hate, indifference or disrespect?"

"Do I take time in my life to make the Sabbath holy by going to bed the night before on time, to get the rest I need so I can spend the day in honor to God, or is it just another day to me?"

"Do I honor my mother and father because God has asked me to, whether they deserve it or not, or do I allow maybe hate or indifference to influence my thoughts about them?"

"Do I honor the sacred spark of life that only God can give, or do I kill in my heart or even in reality?"

"Do I keep myself pure in God's eyes by honoring the family as God made it, or do I commit sexual immorality in my heart or for real?"

"Do I cheat or take what does not belong to me?"

"Do I tell the truth always or hide what should not be hidden?"

"Am I content with what God has not given me, or do I crave what someone else has?"

"This is the heart of the commands God gave us to measure our completeness as a child of God. Use it daily to see what is lacking, what needs to be prayed for and to check on how far you have walked along that narrow path," she ended with a sweet smile.

Shelly sat there stunned, thinking.

Momma Blessing continued, "Don't you see child that war is here because people are following their own agenda and not God's? They are allowing hate to infect their hearts and for whatever reasons seems good to them, they are taking what is not theirs to take? Everyone has the opportunity to choose. Which path have you chosen?" she asked the American.

Shelly sat there staring off into space and softy said, "I thought I'd chosen the Christian life, the single door that is Jesus, but I haven't walked the narrow path, nor worried about bearing spiritual fruit. Is it really that important?" she asked as she turned to look the elder woman in the eyes.

"Dear one... It's essential to understand who we are and why we are here. Without it we are weak, unhealthy children of God. We are saved by our faith in His Son, but if we are His, we must be growing in His Spirit, and maturing as His child. Nothing that lives can stagnate and not grow, if it does, it remains sickly at best or dies. Some of us are seeing life through the world's eyes too much, and not seeing it enough through His love, His forgiveness, His mercy, and His Spirit. Think what life would be like on this Earth if all the Christians focused on this path of choice, let alone if the world found it, as well" she ended with a light in her eyes.

"Wouldn't that be wonderful," Shelly said softly as she saw kindness, forgiveness and love given out into the world.

Momma B said, "I will say it again... for those who love God, we will give and not take. We will get to know Him and follow in His footsteps. We will live by the commandments He left and grow in His Spirit as we follow His will in this life. That is why the primary purpose of our lives here isn't how blessed we are, but how much we can bless others, through His Spirit. It's not up to us to expect a long life on this Earth, just to make the best use of our life, while we have it."

"We must follow our Lord along that narrow path by allowing his Spirit to produce His character in us. To: GIVE Love; BE Joyful; OFFER Peace; STAY Patient; DELIVER Kindness; LIVE Faithfully; DISTRIBUTE Gentleness; and DIE TO SELF through Self-control."

Shelly said, "I know what you are telling me is true. It's like my eyes were closed before. But, it's hard for me to see beyond what I know. How can I see the next life when I am so enmeshed in this one?"

"Walk the narrow path, child. Walk it each day, in every way. Do not deviate from it, if you can," she said firmly and without reservation. "You are a Christian warrior in this world, fighting evil, staying true, honest and brave in the face of darkness and death. Walk the narrow path child," she said with conviction.

Shelly could see the truth and wisdom in what the old missionary was saying. She was looking at life on this planet differently now. She could see a small glimmer of light at the end of her life that wasn't there before. She could see God waiting for her and helping her on her way to Him.

Then Momma B stood up and said, "I have to prepare dinner now. You sit here and rest. Think on what we have talked about," she suggested. "We can talk about it later, if you'd like."

Then Momma B laid her hand on Shelly's good shoulder and prayed out loud, "Dear, sweet, loving, and kind Lord, be with this child of yours. Guild her and let her know who you are. How mighty and holy, and yet loving and tender. Help us all to walk the narrow path that your Son took, and then to enter your kingdom when the time comes. Show her your provisions and be with all of us in this world of pain and sorrow. Thank you for the love and protection you do provide, according to your will. Amen."

Shelly took to heart Momma Blessing's words. Deep in her heart she felt the certainty in what she had heard. Shelly saw life here differently now. She prayed for the strength and wisdom she needed to continue in this life following God. She prayed that He would provide according to His will. She hoped that she would have the strength to continue down the narrow path, which she now chose to follow with all of her heart.

With this change of heart, she could feel God reaching down deep within her soul, wrapping His arms around her. She heard His soft, gentle voice telling her of His deep, infinite love for her and that no matter what happened now, in this temporary place called Earth, she was safe with Him.

Rescued

HOW DO YOU get used to war, if that is possible? The sun rises in the sky like any normal day. The routines of life continue. The land remains, at least for a while. Then, the smell of smoke drifts on the wind. Distant booming can be heard in the air as the ground trembles.

Shelly awoke with a start. What was that?

The morning sun was rising for another day, yet this day seemed different, somehow. She lay in her bed, her good arm around Faith, watching the light filter through the trees outside, into the room. A sense of anxiety in her heart came to life. She didn't know why. It lived and wouldn't die.

She looked down at the child sleeping in comfort and security next to her. Then she looked at Tom in the bed across the room, sleeping soundly, innocently.

Dear Lord, please keep them safe, she asked Him.

She gently and quietly left the comfort of her bed. Shelly smiled a maternal smile, one of love and devotion. Well, as long as they're with me, I'll take care of them as if they are my own, she thought resolutely.

She dressed, glanced once more at the sleeping children, and then walked into the reception room. No patients remained. They were either in the wards or the new graveyard outside. She exhaled with the sadness of it. She could see Benjamin and another man standing in the doorway of the clinic looking outside.

When he heard her approaching, Benjamin turned toward her, with an apprehensive look on his face. "Good morning Mrs. Ferguson," he said softly. She saw unease on his face as plain as the sun rising in the sky outside.

"Is something wrong?" she asked with concern.

"No... not really... I mean, we're not sure. We can hear thunder, but there isn't a cloud in the sky," he whispered softly. "I think the war is drawing near," he added, trying to be courageous.

The man standing at the door turned to look at them. He was of African descent, in his early thirty's, tall, good-looking with kind, intelligent, tired eyes. Dressed in a blood-stained, blue hospital gown, he held a surgical cap and mask in his hands.

"This is Dr. Nathan Emery, Mrs. Ferguson. We've just gotten out of surgery on a small child with shrapnel wounds," Benjamin stated.

"How do you do, Doctor," she said softly, as she extended her good hand and shook his strong one.

"I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Ferguson. Are you from America?" he asked in excellent English.

"Yes, my husband and I had come to Africa for our 10th wedding anniversary. We got separated in Mombasa about five days ago," she said with a lump in her throat. There wasn't any reason to burden this man with her troubles, so she said nothing more. He looked exhausted and seemed to have enough on his hands already.

"I'm so sorry," he looked sincere in his regret. "How do you plan on finding him?" he inquired.

"I was hoping to get the children and myself to the American Embassy in Nairobi to get assistance," she replied.

"I wish we could help, but we are essentially stranded here. Some of our workers ran off with the vehicles. We now have neither transport, a working phone or a way to summon help. Without transport we can't leave, especially with the ill and wounded. We are still hoping the bus will return for us, but each day that passes seems to make it a more unlikely event," he finished sadly.

"Oh," was her reply. "Isn't there a way some of us could walk out of here?" she asked hopefully.

"We wouldn't know which way to go," Benjamin explained. "The Maasai have gone. They had runners that were scouting for the village that might have helped us, but no one has been here with news since we arrived yesterday. We know some of the surrounding towns have been destroyed, but we have no idea what is happening or where."

Shelly stood there looking out the door, as the two men turned and resumed their vigil. What was she going to do now? It frightened her to realize that they were stranded on a temporary oasis, in a rising sea of war. Even if she left with the children, could they get through? Where could they go? And if they stayed here would they be safe? There was no way of knowing. It was dangerous to leave, and dangerous to stay.

Shelly ached for wisdom, as she prayed to the Lord whom she had opened her heart to, yesterday. Now that she had committed herself to follow in the steps of Jesus, she would trust Him, for His provision, and care.

How strange it was, but when she looked back on her journey here, with her new spiritual eyes, she saw many ways she had been protected and cared for by Him. There wasn't any other explanation for the lion walking under her tree the first night, or the prompting to take the footbridge over the river which kept her from the armed men at the bridge. It was miraculous how He had led her with soft directing down the dusty road to rescue the children, and how He had provided His strength, guiding hand, and protection crossing that abyss on that railroad trestle. Then there was the provision of rescue from the battlefield in the form of Benjamin and the Maasai. She was sure there were many other ways He had taken care of her that she hadn't noticed. How grateful she was now for her new found faith in God.

From her heart she talked to Him, What an amazing God you are. You're not simple, but complex and infinite, easy to love and yet hard to understand, at times. My thoughts don't match your thoughts and ways of looking at life here at all, but I want them to. I want to have the faith that is required to follow you, my Lord.

I am scared for Jim and what may happen to us. I want to find him safe and be with him again. A tear slide down her face, as she continued, And I want the children to be safe, if that's possible, Lord. Please keep us all safe. But if something should happen to any of us, please grant me the strength to go on, if I'm still here. Please, let me be a light in this dark world as long as possible and allow me to give your love wherever I can, Lord. Please protect those we both love, Lord. Thank you for what you have done and will do. Amen.

Shelly's spirit was at peace, even though she couldn't help fearing in her physical body. No one wants to get hurt, or see others harmed, let alone die, but she could see further down her life road now. She saw another life promised to her at its end and she wanted the faith to keep that hope alive.

Dr. Emery leaned on the door jam and closed his eyes in fatigue for a second or two.

"I need some sleep, Benjamin. I can't feel my feet and I'm so exhausted. If gunmen arrive, just leave me. I don't have the strength to run, even if I wanted to," he said half-jokingly. "And you better get some rest as well... soon."

"I will. I want to check in on our mystery woman and then my wife, in that order," he told the doctor.

"With that last surgery, she may come out of her coma. At least I hope so. Wake me if you think I'm needed," the doctor said. "Maybe she can tell us who she is and what happened to her," he continued through a large yawn.

"I'll look in on her right away." Benjamin offered.

The American and the nurse practitioner stood at the doorway watching the exhausted doctor walk across the compound in the early morning haze, into the sleeping quarters.

Benjamin turned to Shelly and asked, "How are the children doing this morning?"

"They're sound asleep, the last time I checked," she answered. "Do you think we'll be safe?" she couldn't help asking.

"As safe as anyone can be in war. At least we have our faith to sustain us, if we want it," he added with a yawn.

"I want it," she said softly and firmly.

They walked down the hall together. Then Benjamin stopped in the doorway of the ward across the hall from hers and said, "You know, God performs all kinds of miracles to show us that He can. We have a woman in here that was left for dead on the Mombasa Road five days ago. We think she was attacked for her vehicle. Dr. Emery was on his way here and witnessed the whole thing. He risked his own life to stop and see if he could help. He found her scarcely alive and badly injured. She has been in a coma ever since. We have worked very hard to save her, both in skill and in prayer."

Shelly's heart skipped a beat. I was on that road five days ago, with Mattie. It can't be... can it?

"Was it south of Tsavo?" she asked as she felt an electrical surge ran up her back.

"I think it was," he answered with a quizzical expression.

"I was in a white Volvo with a dear friend who was taking me to the American Embassy. We were attacked and I thought she had been killed. Oh, Benjamin... It can't be her. She was all shot up and looked so dead..." Shelly's eyes filled with tears in remembrance.

He stood in the doorway for a second and then simply said, "Come, I will show you our patient."

They walked into the room together. All the privacy curtains were drawn back in the room, revealing clean, empty beds, all but one. In the far corner of the room, with the light from the rising sun spilling over onto the bed, she saw a small, young African woman lying under the sheets. Her head was bound in gauze, her eyes sunken and darkened. She looked very ill and frail.

Shelly's heart skipped hard again. "Mattie!" she said softly as she accepted that it really was her. She sat carefully on the bed and held the soft dark hand. "Mattie," she said again. "Mattie."

Mattie's eyes fluttered open as she returned to this world with the calling of her name. She focused on the woman holding her hand and said softly, "Shelly..." with a small weak smile. Then she closed her eyes and slept.

Benjamin picked up her chart, reached over and checked her vital signs and made the necessary notations, with a large and brilliant smile on his face. "That was a very good sign," he said gently to Shelly. "God is good. She has a chance now," he added. "Come, let's check on the children and then you can tell me all about her. We'll go out to the kitchen, get some coffee and maybe a bite to eat. I need something to keep me going for a while longer."

Shelly stooped down, placed her good hand on Mattie's arm and told the sleeping woman, "I thought you were dead. I really did. Please forgive me for leaving you..." she said as she choked back a sob.

Benjamin softly touched her shoulder and offered, "No one is accustomed to violence and death. You couldn't know. God provided for her or she would have died that day," he said kindly.

Shelly stood up and gave thanks to God for His mercy toward her friend.

I'm so glad she is still here Lord, thank you, she said sincerely. She glanced once more at the sleeping woman, and marveled at the miracle.

She walked out into the hall, wiped her tears and then checked in on the children. They still slept.

Joining Benjamin, they walked out to the kitchen. Momma Blessing was up making coffee. The windows were wide open and the morning breeze gently stirred the aromas in the room. Cornmeal porridge, Ugali, bubbled on the stove.

Shelly sat down in an emotional fog. War was raging somewhere outside. Distant booming could still be heard, now and again. A dear friend had been found and living. What a wonder. And her walk with God was penetrating deeper into her soul. Fear and joy now mingled together in opposing turmoil, creating raging waves of emotion inside of her. She turned her spirit over to the Lord and His peace descended and calm prevailed.

She remembered her crossing of the trestle. She had been so terrified and weary. Then God reached down and guided her across with His strength and protection. She couldn't have done it without Him. She sighed in contentment, realizing He truly was in control and she could rely on Him.

Sipping her coffee, she recounted her epic story to those in the room. They sat enraptured, thrilling at the details of God's hand in her journey. Isn't it funny how people with faith of their own, can enjoy hearing of God's grace and love in someone else's life, just as if it was their own? And maybe it is, since we are of one body in Christ.

After a while, Tom and Faith appeared in the doorway, all washed and dressed. Shelly delighted in setting food on the table for them and they ate together, chatting away about little things.

Suddenly, Blessing ran into the kitchen, terror vividly prominent on her face. "Soldiers... Soldiers are in the compound," she cried.

The silence was acute. Shelly's heart pounded hard. Then she grabbed the children and started them for the door. Benjamin was telling her to hide in the fields behind the kitchen as quickly as she could. The little group swiftly ran around the building, darting for a small group of trees about 100 yards away. It was too close to the building, in her opinion, but she didn't think they had time to go further out into the field. Concealing themselves in the brush near the trees, she turned to look for Benjamin and Blessing. They should have been right behind her, but they were nowhere to be seen.

What happened to them, she wondered?

Her heart still raced and Faith started to whimper. Tears formed in Tom's eyes as he snuggled close to Shelly. She tried to comfort them. "Hush, Faith," she said softly in the child's ears. "We don't want them to find us, do we?" She softly rubbed the little one's shoulders and wished she could hold Tom, but her left arm was still useless in its cast. She closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed long and hard, her heart beating fast in her chest.

Where are they? What's happened to them? Dear Lord, keep them safe.

Minutes dragged on and on. Time stood still. She could hear nothing. It was so unnerving, the silence.

All of a sudden, Benjamin appeared next to the kitchen and softly called her name. He looked frantic, but not terrified. "Shelly... Mrs. Ferguson, where are you?" he called softly.

With her heart in her throat, she stood up. "Over here," her reply was barely audible.

Benjamin ran over to her, near the trees. "The soldiers are from Nairobi, they're ours, they're here for Dr. Emery, but he won't leave his patients. You must hurry. They're willing to take you with them. We must run. They can't stay. The enemy is so close, hurry. There is no time," he said as he dragged the American and children with him.

They grabbed their things so quickly that Shelly wasn't sure they had everything. "I need to say goodbye to Mattie," she said quickly.

"There's no time," Benjamin said.

"I need to tell her what happened, why I wasn't there for her, to thank her..." her voice trailed away.

"I'll explain it all to her. There's no time," Benjamin said as he rushed them through the clinic and out into the compound.

Three uniformed men stood near a camouflaged jeep, well-armed and on alert.

Dr. Emery, Blessing and Blessing's mother stood nearby, as the group ran to the vehicle.

"Get in," Benjamin said in haste.

"What about you? Aren't you coming?" she asked in panic.

"There's no time to explain. We're staying here, for now. God will provide," he told her as he almost lifted her up into the front seat. He placed Faith on her lap, as two of the soldiers climbed into the back. One stood, wrapping his arms around the roll bar, as Dr. Emery lifted Tom into the back next to the others.

The driver jumped in, and turned to the doctor, "Are you sure. We came for you," he stated firmly.

"I'm staying with my patients. Send help when you can," was his reply.

Then the jeep started to move. The missionaries and the good doctor yelled, "God bless you." "Goodbye." and "God be with you." as the jeep kicked up dust and sped out onto the road.

Shelly turned to see the small group standing together waving a heartfelt goodbye, as they disappeared in the swirling dust and mounting distance.

I didn't even have time to say goodbye, or to thank them for all that they've done, she thought in grief. God only knows what will happen to them. Please keep them safe, Lord. Please be with Mattie.

Just like that, she was pulled from their lives, probably to never see them again.

The road was dusty, pitted and full of ruts. They were thrown around the jeep like rag dolls. Shelly's head started to throb and ach intensely. Her legs were braced in the foot well of the army vehicle as she held onto Faith with all of her might. Sounds of battle were growing by the minute. Jets screamed across the sky near the mountains, rocketing to the south.

The driver never said a word, but drove with skill and iron intent toward the north. Minutes dragged into timeless agony. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and hanging on with what strength she could find. She prayed and then prayed some more.

Time passed. Then the jeep swung onto a paved road, screeching its tires in a fast turn onto the roadway. They picked up speed and headed north as if death was close on their heels. The scenery raced by so fast that she closed her eyes again. At least the hard jostling had stopped. The engine screamed with its speed.

Eventually, she opened her eyes again, only to realize they were traveling on the Mombasa Highway at last, as a sign sped by. They raced through small towns and villages and after about an hour or so, the vehicle slowed, bogged down in traffic. They were entering a large shanty town that seemed to go on and on. Shacks and decrepit buildings with rusty roofs and poverty were everywhere. Large skyscrapers could be seen on the distance.

Nairobi! Could this be Nairobi? she wondered. It was.

The driver continued to weave in and around the traffic as if he was a mad man. Maybe he was. The breaks on the jeep squealed in protest as the vehicle stopped in front of a tall building surrounded by a wall of sand bags piled high into the sky. Razor wire covered the top like a treacherous crown. Next to the opening in the wall, stood a small shack, where several men in uniform were checking papers. These soldiers wore the cream colored camouflage uniforms with flack-jackets and helmets of the American Marine Corp. Shelly's heart leaped for joy. Relief flooded her soul to see more soldiers standing guard, armed and alert in the background.

The driver turned to Shelly and said in a flat, dispassionate voice, "Get out."

She was shocked at his cold command, but she complied. Exhausted, hurting, dirty and drained, she put Faith on the ground and stiffly got out of the jeep. Their scant belongings were thrown to the ground as the camouflaged vehicle turned and accelerated back the way they had come. Shelly and the two children stood in stunned silence as they watched their rescuers depart.

What have we done wrong? Are they upset that they couldn't bring the doctor out? Are they in trouble for bringing us here? She would never know. Maybe they were just in a hurry to get back to their unit. Whatever it was, she didn't care. They had made it. They were really here, at last!

Stooping, they picked up their things and turned to face the soldiers at the gate. The American Embassy stood before them.

Please Lord, help us. Keep us safe and help me to find Jim, now, she implored.

Found

A YOUNG MARINE, standing next to the shack, observed a dirty, tired and wounded woman getting out of a Kenyan Army vehicle with two young, dusty, children. He noticed that her head was wrapped in gauze, a horrible bruise covered half of her face, and her arm was bound in a cast. In the last week, he had seen all kinds of American refugees fleeing the war that was raging in this land, so many stories of hardships, fear and death. Watching them join the end of his line, he was sure that their saga would be just one more story to add to the rest.

Shelly and the children waited in the hot African sun, as she tried to take out the passports from her fanny pack with one hand. Tom saw that she struggled, so he gently walked up and helped her bring out the slightly crumpled, dusty, dark blue books from her pouch. As she held them in her hand, her heart swelled with pride as she observed the American Seal prominently displayed on the cover, along with the words "United States of America" boldly printed in gold letters. How differently she viewed her country now with all its privileges, laws, safety and prosperity.

Home... how she longed to be there with Jim and leave this war torn place on the next flight out. She wanted the life back that she had known just a short while ago.

"Thank you, Tom."

Tom smiled and then leaned against her for comfort. He was so far from home and his own way of life. He missed his parents terribly. He was glad that Shelly was here. She felt so safe and comforting. But, what was going to happen to them now? Would they be separated? Would he be left alone with some stranger who might not care what happened to him and his sister? He said a silent prayed for help, closed his eyes and accepted the comfort of this woman's protection... for now.

Shelly stepped up to the Marine, when it was her turn. She handed her own and Jim's dusty passports to the young sergeant. She could see the name 'Jefferson' stitched in bold letters on his uniform. She told him, "My name is Shelly Ferguson. I'm from America. My husband was taken captive by terrorist I think, about six days ago in Mombasa. I need help finding him, getting these children to the states and going home with my husband, if I can," she said. "What do I do?"

He took a look at the passports, and then examined them with a jeweler's eyepiece for authenticity and responded, "Wait here, please."

He walked about ten feet to the opening of the barricade, passed armed guards and into a booth that was tucked behind the left side of the wall of sand bags.

Shelly stood holding Faith's hand, with Tom close beside her. They watched the soldier step inside and pick up a phone. Shelly could hear his voice, but not the words he spoke. She knew they were all tired, dirty, hungry and thirsty, but she needed to get the wheels moving to find Jim, and the paperwork for the children started.

Presently, he returned and said, "This way please."

The wounded American, with the children, followed the Marine through the opening in the barricade. Inside the temporary wall of war, stood a tall, permanent, stone wall, about fifteen feet away. This stone edifice surrounded the five story building of the embassy. Huge, heavy, double iron gates barred the way into the embassy grounds. The gate entrance was offset from the barricade opening by about thirty feet to the right. Probably to prevent direct access to the gates, if an attack should occur. Camouflaged trucks were parked in concealment between the temporary and stone walls. A jeep carrying men drove down the alleyway and disappeared around the corner. Shelly and the children walked among Marines going about their business, protecting this small piece of American property in a foreign land.

As they approached the gates, they were met by another group of Marines standing guard. Their guide escorted them past the gates and onto the embassy grounds. They could see benches strategically placed in and among a lush garden along the inner wall. A wide, paved sidewalk negotiated its way through a lush lawn that encircled the building. Shelly stayed close to their chaperone, following him along the hot pavement of the driveway toward the front entrance.

As they walked up the wide, shallow steps and passed into the embassy, they entered a large, cool and airy lobby. They could see an open balcony, overlooking the lobby from the second floor, on three sides of the great chamber. Noises and echoes reverberated across the stone floors and walls. This huge room encased numerous refugees in various stages of aid. Some sat on chairs or couches. Others followed staff members into the bowels of the building. Near the front desk, a short line of evacuees stood, presumably being aided in one form or another. But they didn't stop there. They continued through double doors at the back of the cavernous room. The doors opened onto a wide hall with offices on either side. They entered the second door on the right, finding themselves in a small office.

"This is Mrs. Amanda Bruna. She will help you," was all that Sergeant Jefferson said as he handed the passports to the embassy official. Then he turned and walked out of the room.

"Mrs. Ferguson?" asked an African woman of about 40, who stood behind her desk as the small group entered her office. She was of slender build and possessed intelligent and compassionate eyes.

"Yes," Shelly replied, as she sat in the chair offered to her.

"Why don't you children sit on the couch over there," Mrs. Bruna offered as she pointed out the leather sofa against the wall. Shelly wondered how many others had been offered this couch in the last couple of days.

Mrs. Bruna sat down in her chair and examined the passports. "I understand that you were separated from your husband in Mombasa. What was it... five days ago now?" she asked.

"No, it was actually six days ago. We were just about to leave the "Mombasa Imperial Hotel", when it was attacked. I would have been captured with the rest, if I hadn't forgotten something in our room," she said as she placed her hand on her shirt, feeling the presence of the cross lying there.

A dark sadness covered Mrs. Bruna's eyes when the hotel was mentioned. "Oh," was all that she said for a second, then she took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry Mrs. Ferguson, but from what we've learned, none of the hostages survived that day."

"No..." Shelly softly said in shock, as her face turned white, her heart seemed to stop beating and she turned cold, so very cold. Tears fill her eyes as she asked, "What happened? Are you sure?"

"We know that two trucks carrying men in one and women and children in the other left the hotel for the Makupa Causeway, presumably toward the airport, which the attackers had stormed earlier that morning and held. But, just before they reached the causeway, local police and some soldiers met the vehicles with gunfire. They didn't know hostages were on board, so in the subsequent fighting some of the terrorists started to kill their hostages. In the mayhem there was no distinction between hostage and militant. All we know is that all the women and children were killed in the back of the truck, probably by the terrorists."

"Once the fighting was over, the police found the bodies of the male hostages in and among the militants that were killed. I'm sorry Mrs. Ferguson, but if your husband was on that truck..." she left the rest unsaid.

"Isn't there a chance that he could have survived?" she asked in anguish.

"There were no survivors found," she added in a grave voice. "We don't know how many were originally on the trucks, or even who they are. The hotel was destroyed by fire along with all its records. We were told about the tragedy by the people who were able to escape the island that day. A few of them were the very police that had opened fire on the trucks," she said remorsefully. "Yours is just one small piece of the puzzle to that event. Small reports are trickling in on the missing from that hotel, but there are so many more that are still lost and unaccounted for in this war, Mrs. Ferguson. So, many..." she said unhappily. "A lot of people died that first day in Mombasa. It was one of the worst this country has ever seen. So much hate, so many dead, so little left of the city."

Shelly sat there with her grief running down her face.

"Now, no one can get on or off the island. It's completely held by Major General Ben Adeen's Army. He was a high ranking official in our military before he announced his intentions of creating a new government in Mombasa and what he calls the new future for Kenya. We are pretty sure he has made an alliance with al-Qaeda. We think the hostages were taken by them for political leverage and maybe for ransom. We will never know for sure, now. Civil war is tearing this country apart, Mrs. Ferguson, and there is no way we can verify that your husband is alive or dead. But, it would seem to me that he is most likely dead, I am sorry to say," she ended despondently.

Shelly sat there devastated.

This can't be happening! Oh, Jim, you can't be gone. How am I going to go on without you? Lord, is this really what you wanted? She asked in her pain. No... I know it isn't. You're kind and loving. It was evil and hate that took him, she thought as sobs escaped her. I won't add to this worlds anguish with more hate. I choose to love, Lord, but it's so hard.

I guess others have lost loved ones unfairly, she thought as she turned and looked at the children sitting on the couch.

She was brought out of her thoughts by Mrs. Bruna's next question, "Do you have your children's passports?"

Shelly wiped the tears from her dusty face as she looked at the woman behind the desk. Then she looked back at the two little ones sitting on the couch, so quiet, so worried, and so in need of her. She turned and looked Mrs. Bruna in the eyes as she said firmly, "I wish they were mine. I found them near Tsavo. Their mother and father are... gone," she said quietly.

Now it was Mrs. Bruna's turn to say, "Oh." The sadness of it all, the waste, Mrs. Bruna thought as she shook her head sadly and said, "I'll take them over to Children's Services. They'll be well looked after there."

"Please, don't misunderstand me, Mrs. Bruna. I don't want you to take them off my hands. We have been through a lot together. I promised them I would see that they got home to America. I plan on delivering them to their grandmother in Portland, Oregon myself and I'm not leaving them. They are staying with me and we are going home to America together," she said resolutely.

"Don't you realize you can leave right now? Your passport is in order and I can have you at the airport in twenty minutes. You could be on a military flight home within the hour, away from this dangerous place, and be home within the next day or so," she stated. "It could take weeks, even months before we can get the paper work together for the children," she informed the American, knowing that Shelly most likely wouldn't go without them. "We don't know how long this city will last. Major General Adeen's Army seems to be large and well-armed."

"No. I'm not leaving them. I can't believe my husband is dead, and there isn't anything I can do about my hope in that. But, I can be sure that Tom and Faith are safe, and deliver them out of harm's way to their grandmother in the states, if possible."

Mrs. Bruna smiled a knowing, maternal smile. She liked this brave, compassionate woman. "Very well," she said. "Tell me all about you and your trip here, Mrs. Ferguson and then we will gather as much information as we can about the children. We'll see what we can do."

For the next hour or so, Mrs. Bruna recorded all that she could find out about the Ferguson and Madison families. Then plans were made to house, feed and take care of the small group until they all could leave together, as soon as possible, out of the war that raged on African soil.

* * * *

The next day at the embassy, while cleaning and re-organizing their things in the small room they were given, Shelly discovered that her little compass was gone. She tore through everything. Somehow the loss of this trinket seemed to add to her sense of loss. The memories of her father and her survival in this country were so intricately tied to it. It had served her so well. She closed her eyes, feeling adrift, and rudderless.

She pulled herself together and determined to let the Lord be her compass. After all, He was the one ultimately in control. She stood at the window of their room and stared off into the city outside, talking to her Lord and Savior.

Tom had been watching her search. In his heart, he knew what she was probably looking for. He placed his hand on the little toy in his pocket. He knew he would have to return it to her. It was the right thing to do, but he was reluctant to let it go. Somehow holding it was like having a part of her with him. He knew that they could be parted any day now, maybe never to see each other again. And the thought of losing Shelly added to the loss he felt for his parents.

He had meant to give it to her in the Maasai village, after finding it in the battlefield, but the longer he kept it, the harder it was to give it back. He knew it was wrong. He imagined what his father would have said, or even his mother. Neither one of them would have wanted him to keep it. He knew what he had to do.

Bravely and with a good heart and the compass safely enclosed in his hand, he walked quietly up and reached out his hand to her.

Shelly turned and looked as he opened his hand to reveal the little treasure. She was delighted with the surprise of his gift, but she also could see sadness and guilt on his face, as well.

"Where did you find it?" she asked gently.

Tom told her and revealed his reluctance to part with it. He apologized and Shelly hugged him with the knowledge that he wanted to be with her, or at least to have something of hers. Oh, how she wanted to be with these children for the rest of her life, but she knew they had a home to go to. It was not in her power to keep them. It was going to be hard to leave them when the time came.

First Jim, and now the children, she thought unhappily.

"It's alright Tom, I understand. I'll be here for you as long as I can," she added. "You still have your Grandmother, you know. And she said she would be calling us every day until we can leave. She's so anxious to have you home with her. I'm glad you have a home waiting for you in Oregon," she told him.

"Will I get to see you when we are living at Grammy's house?" asked Tom.

"You bet... It only takes about eight hours to drive from Mica to Portland and I'll come and visit you as often as I can," Shelly offered.

But the thought of going alone, without Jim... always without Jim now, broke her heart. Yes, she would see the children often... maybe she would even move to Portland to be closer to them. God only knew what lay ahead for them and she prayed for His love, strength and provision. She would especially need it now that she was going to be living in this world without her husband, partner and best friend.

* * * *

In the next five days most of the paperwork for the children was completed. Because the children didn't have passports, new ones were ordered, and their citizenship papers initiated. Their grandmother had provided a copy of Tom's birth certificate, proving him to be an American citizen. But Faith's citizenship had been a different matter. She had been born in Africa.

Faith's paperwork held up everything. Shelly needed to get permission for her to enter the United States and to stay with her brother. She had to sign an affidavit stating that she had found the children together on their parent's farm and that she believed them to be brother and sister. She also stated that she had witnessed what she believed to be their parents, both deceased.

In their little room, they were able to shower, clean their clothing in the sink and pack their few belongings, preparing to leave as soon as all was ready. They read and relaxed, if you could rest with a broken heart. Shelly dreamt of her husband. She yearned for him and prayed that somehow he was alive. But, with each empty day dragging on into another, he never appeared at the gate, nor was any word ever received about him.

Her hopes dimmed, but never died completely. She wanted to stay, waiting for that thin hope of finding Jim to be realized, but how could she? No... she had the children. She would have to leave as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She had to keep them safe.

As the war was being valiantly fought south of the city, they were safe for a while, but for how long? The American military was still evacuating refugees from the Nairobi airport, but the flights would soon be coming to an end. They had to leave before that happened.

Time dragged on empty, slowly, with the anxiety of war and the dread of being trapped in the city real.

On the fifth day, Shelly sat outside, in the back of the embassy, on a bench in the shade from the hot sun, reading to the children. She was waiting on a final document for Faith. The minute it was ready, they would leave for the airport. It would only take a few minutes to gather up their things. They would be ready when the time came.

She was reading Robinson Crusoe to them, and the loneliness and isolation of the story rung true in her heart as she spoke the words out loud. Shelly looked up to see Mrs. Bruna walking toward her, with a guarded look on her face. Next to her was the Marine, Sergeant Jefferson, whom she had met at the gate on her first day.

Something's wrong, but what? she wondered with apprehension.

"Hello Mrs. Bruna... Sergeant," she said warily, as she stood up.

"Hello, Mrs. Ferguson," the woman replied as she stood in front of her. Then Mrs. Bruna briefly placed her hands on Shelly's shoulders, looked her in the eyes and said, "I need you to be calm. Two men have shown up at the barricade. They both could be imposters. Many are trying to get out of this country anyway they can by taking ID's off the dead they find."

"One man is about thirty years old, tall and of African descent. He has identified himself as Jonathan Undomo. The other may be Caucasian, Hispanic, or just about any other nationality that isn't dark skinned. They are both dirty, unshaven with rumpled hair, and basically in rags. We tried to identify the one claiming to be your husband, but his appearance is too altered to identify him by his passport photo. That is why we need you to look at him for us," she stated.

Shelly's heart started to beat an irregular rhythm. She steeled herself for what may be ahead, but she wouldn't smash the hope that he was alive.

"Sergeant Jefferson will take you to see him. I'll stay with the children. But, I need to warn you to be cautious, don't get too close," she warned. "And, please try not to get your hopes up," she asked softly of Shelly.

Shelly nodded agreement, in spite of her feelings.

She turned and joined the sergeant, walking beside him toward the embassy gates, her heart continuing to pound with hope and dread. They walked through the gates and into the alleyway of walls, stopping near a truck.

"Stay hidden here. I'm going to bring them over to the guard shack and question them. I'll try and get them to face in this direction. Please don't reveal yourself unless you're sure, Mrs. Ferguson. We could be dealing with terrorists," he said gravely.

Shelly watched him walk away and then direct the men to join him with a wave of his hand. She was shocked by their appearance. They were thin, dirty with scruffy beards and hair, frankly a mess. One was very tall, with fierce intelligent eyes. So much like the Maasai she had been with. The other man was stooped and wild-looking. It couldn't be her husband. Her heart began to sink. The sergeant turned his back to her and the two men turned to face in her direction. She shrank further behind the military machine, and peeked out. She could hear the sergeant ask the man that claimed to be her husband, "Why did you come to Africa?"

"I came here with my wife to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary," said a husky voice that wasn't her husband's voice at all.

Shelly's heart sank and tears started to fill her eyes. Had these men tortured Jim to reveal this information before he was killed? But, how could they? He was allegedly killed the first day? She saw him on the truck herself. There wasn't any time, was there?

"This is Jonathan Undomo. He rescued me in Mombasa. He is the eldest brother of a friend of ours," offered the shabby man with the gravelly voice.

Undomo... I know that name, she thought. Then she remembered... Mattie's last name was Undomo! Her brother works at that restaurant, the one on the hill... wasn't his name Jonathan?

"Has a Mrs. Shelly Ferguson reported in here?" asked the ragged man with the raspy voice. The look in his eyes! He has Jim's eyes... her heart skipped a beat.

"I'm sorry, but..." the Marine wasn't able to finish his reply. Shelly had run up behind him and stopped in uncertainty.

The man looked behind the sergeant and exclaimed "Shelly! Thank God!"

Their embrace was heartfelt but short-lived. Shelly was shocked as Jim's body went limp in her arms. Sergeant Jefferson quickly stepped in to catch her collapsing husband before he hit the ground.

Going Home

IN THE EMERGENCY room at St. Francis Hospital of Nairobi, Jim laid on the softest bed he had felt for almost two weeks. He was sitting up eating with one hand and holding onto his wife's hand with the other. He had been examined, cleaned up, and was eating as if he hadn't for weeks. In fact, he hadn't. Now, they were waiting for the doctor's return with Jim's test results.

Jim still couldn't believe Shelly sat next to him. He had torn Mombasa apart looking for her, and here she was, beside him, safe and well, except for her broken arm and the damage to her head, of course. He couldn't erase the smile on his face. He held her hand and there wasn't any way, short of death that he was going to let go.

In turn, Shelly's chair was tucked as close to his bed as it could get. She held onto him just as firmly. He's really here! He's alive and well, breathing on this good Earth by God's grace and mercy, she thought with tears in her eyes. Thank you Lord, Thank you with all of my heart.

Jonathan joined them a short time later, after his examination and treatment was complete. He gently sat at the foot of Jim's bed. It was wonderful to be clean, fed and safe for a while. Shelly could see that both men had been through a lot, and she was dying to find out what had happened to them, but Jim insisted on her story first.

She began her story when she had left Jim to find her cross. When Shelly got to the part where she encountered Mattie, Jonathan, Mattie's brother broke in.

"Where is she? Is she all right?" he asked.

"The last time I saw her, she was at the Enguli Compound alive, but hurt very badly. I'm not sure what has happened since I left five days ago. The war was very close by then," she answered sadly.

"Be patient Jon," Jim requested. "Let her tell it all, we'll find out more that way."

Jonathan relented. The two men sat there as she continued her epic tale. She watched her husband's face change from dread, fear, excitement, and wonder as she related all that had happened to her. When she told them about the attack on the Volvo, Jonathan exclaimed in fear for his sister.

"I'm sorry Jonathan, I thought she was dead! I really did... I'm so glad she's still alive, at least she was when I was rushed out of the compound almost a week ago," she said sadly. "Please believe me, I wish I could have stayed or at least said goodbye, but I had the children with me," she explained.

"Children, what children?" asked Jim in surprise.

"I haven't gotten to that part yet," she said with a smile of affection for the man she loved.

"Sorry," Jim said eagerly, waiting for her to continue.

"Go on," requested Jonathan with a sadness in his eyes.

On she went with her story, telling them of her experience in the bush and how she felt God had taken care of her and gently directed her. When she came to the part in the tale about the Madison farm, she could see dismay on their faces as she told them of the death she had found there. She watched a new curiosity on Jim's face when she described Tom and Faith.

He sat there, watching his wife's expressions showing deep affection for the children as the story unfolded. He was intrigued by her description of Tom and his little sister Faith, their bravery, and stoic personalities, but most of all their faith in God. They must have had wonderful parents and the loss must be hard for them to bear. His heart went out to them, even before he had met them.

As she finished her story, the doctor came in. The test results indicated that both men were suffering from dehydration, malnutrition and exhaustion. Good rest and food would put them right in no time. The doctor said that Jim's neck had been badly bruised, but that his x-rays and tests didn't show any permanent damage. Jim's voice should return to normal in a week or so. Then the doctor said the most wonderful words, "You both are free to leave as soon as the paperwork is finished."

Shelly looked out into the hall. She could see that there remained a great number of patients needing more help than her dear husband and friend. It was time to go. Her heart skipped a beat with the thought that they could leave now, if only Faith's papers were ready. She yearned to go home. She wanted to get away from the death and destruction raging in this country. She wanted her own home, and to be there with her husband, now that he was found.

Soon, all three were walking out of the hospital together. The American Embassy was sending someone over to pick up the Ferguson's. Jim turned to Jonathan and asked, "What are you going to do now? Do you want to come with us to the embassy?"

"No, I'm going to find my way to Mattie. I have to find her," he said firmly.

Jim knew him too well to talk him out it... of not going back into the battlefields. He just said, "I know I've thanked you for risking your life to save mine several times, but I want you to know that if there is ever anything I can do, please contact me. I want to help, if I can. I know I speak for Shelly and myself when I say that we both pray with all of our hearts that you find Mattie safe and well. We hope all of your family will survive this war, and that it will be over soon."

Jonathan gave a sincere smile and reached out his hand to shake Jim's. As they started to shake hands, Jim pulled him close and gave him a big hug. Tears glittered in their eyes and they seemed to have a hard time speaking.

So much must have occurred between these two men in their flight from Mombasa, thought Shelly.

Jonathan couldn't say anything more and silently turned away to walk down the street.

Jim called after him, "Write, when you can. Let us know how you are."

Jonathan turned, nodding his head in agreement and waved goodbye.

Jim placed his arm around his wife as they watched Jonathan walk among the people on the sidewalk. At the corner he turned once more, placed his hand high in the air in a final farewell. Both Jim and Shelly waved back in turn. Then Jonathan turned and walked out of their lives, hopefully not forever, but war is such an uncertain thing.

A vehicle from the embassy pulled up to the curb, in front of the hospital. It quickly transported them back to the protection of the American Marines. At the gate, Sergeant Jefferson told them that Mrs. Bruna wanted to see them in her office right away. Shelly and Jim walked through the large, cavernous lobby, hand-in-hand, through the double doors and into the office of Mrs. Bruna.

"Please sit down." she offered as she indicated the chairs in front of her desk. "How are you feeling, now Mr. Ferguson? she inquired.

"Much better, thank you." he replied

"Would you mind giving me a statement on your ordeal in Mombasa and how you got here?"

Jim looked guarded and turned to Shelly, "Would you mind waiting outside for a while?"

Shelly was shocked by his lack of openness. She was never aware, at any time in their relationship, that he had kept anything from her, but this time she knew he was going to.

With a sensation of concern for him, she said, "I'll go and find the children. We'll wait for you in our room. Mrs. Bruna can tell you how to get there."

They hugged and she said, "Love you."

"Love you too." Jim said with feeling, but the guarded look in his eyes remained. It was time to go.

Shelly turned with sadness in her heart, knowing that something horrible must have happened to him, something that he couldn't or wouldn't share. With a sigh, and a prayer for both of them she went to find Tom and Faith.

Two hours later, there was a knock on the door of the little room. Shelly opened it to find Jim standing there. "Are you all right?" she asked him, as he took her in his arms and hugged her again.

"I'm fine now," he answered with feeling.

In the years to come, she never knew the details of what had happened to him. He just told her that Jonathan had recognized him from the night before, at the restaurant, and had risked his life to get him away from the fighting. They had stayed in Mombasa for days, trying to find her. Eventually Jim had to concede to Jonathan's opinion that she was not on the island and that the American Embassy was the best place to get help in finding her. Their ordeal was long and hard fought, with hunger, death and misery a large part of their tale. He never would tell her how he got injured. He would make light of the episode and just say, "God brought us back together for a reason, let's just go on from there." And so they did.

Isn't it funny how things change so quickly at times. Like the time Shelly and the children were whisked away from the clinic to Nairobi. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason for it, just that faith tells us to believe in His timing and provision. As soon as Jim arrived in the room, with no time to meet the children, Mrs. Bruna was at their door.

"I'm sorry to rush you, but the final document has just come in. You need to get to the airport as quickly as you can. The evacuation could end at any time, now. There was a terrorist attack on the airport this morning. Here are your passports and the children's papers. Corporal Stoughton is going to drive you to the military evacuation area. Please grab all your things as quickly as you can," she said in a rush. "We need to get you there as soon as possible."

Shelly had been ready for days, but there were a few things here and there that were out and in use, like toothpaste, brushes and such, along with the new books she had bought the children. She quickly scanned the little room as Tom swept them into the backpack and the old white bag they had brought from his home. Jim stood stunned, not having anything but the cloths on his back. He took the documents from Mrs. Bruna.

Tom was ready in just a few seconds, holding the bag over his shoulder.

Jim turned, looked down at Tom and asked gently, "May I take that for you?"

Tom stood still for a second and shook his head back and forth, not wanting to let go of his things.

Jim smiled in understanding and said, "Okay, just let me know if you need any help."

Tom smiled a grateful smile and turned to assist his sister.

Faith wanted to be held by Shelly. "Here, take this," she asked her husband. Jim took the backpack as Shelly knelt down and pulled the little four-year-old up onto her side, holding the child with one arm.

"I can take her," Jim offered his assistance.

"Do you want to let my husband hold you," she asked the little girl.

Faith shook her head in an emphatic no.

"I'll be alright," she told him. "Maybe later, when the children get to know you better."

Jim seemed to understand. He was so ready to leave this country and the sadness that was everywhere.

The Ferguson's with their small charges left the shelter of the embassy. The sergeant drove them through the city and onto the grounds of the international airport. A large crowd of refugees trying the leave the country inundated the area. The military jeep drove through them to a military checkpoint just inside a fenced off area of the airport. Papers were examined and the small family was allowed to pass. They stood in line, with other nationals boarding one of the last flights out of war-torn Kenya.

Soon, the Ferguson's were seated in a row, near the wing. Jim sat next to the window, Shelly next to him, with Faith by her side. Tom sat across the aisle. They quickly fastened their seatbelts as the engines came to life. As soon the transport was full, the door shut with a thud. With that sound the excitement grew. They were leaving.

The engines whined, the transport backed away from the terminal, turned and taxied to the runway. As the plane readied itself, the military transport stood its ground as the engines roared, readying itself for takeoff. Then, slowly at first with the engines screaming, it rolled down the runway. Faster and faster it sped until it rose in the thrill of flight into the evening sky.

Jim could see the land diminishing out the window, as the flight left the war torn, exotic land of Africa.

When the seatbelt sign went off, Faith climbed into Shelly's lap as she wrapped her arm around the child. Tom came over to sit next to her and she gave him a warm smile. Jim and Shelly talked softly together, relieved to be going home. The children drifted off to sleep as the sun slowly dipped toward the horizon.

This transport was headed directly to the states. They would be landing on American soil for which she had a new found appreciation. How different this flight home was compared to the flights they had taken to Africa. Coming here had been a dream vacation which had turned into an experience of fear and death. The return flight was one of rescue and bound toward the comfort of home.

Home, the thought brought tears to her eyes. Yet her home with God meant more, now. She could envision heaven and being by his side someday. She would always be grateful she had found a deeper walk with Him, even amidst the anguish and hardships.

Then she thought about the wonderful experiences before the war, the beautiful country of Africa with its clear blue waters and white beaches, of the beautiful hotel and the adventure of discovery in the old city. She thought of Mattie and all the others that she had met and learned to care about. Then she looked at the children, Thomas and Faith. She would never regret finding them.

"I want to apologize to you for this trip. It certainly didn't turn out like I had envisioned," Jim expressed his regret to her.

"Don't be sorry, Jim. This could have happened anywhere, anytime, even at home. Our world is a sad and broken one. It doesn't have to be like this, but it is. The right kind of love, real love, is lacking in our world. Do you know what I mean?" she asked.

Jim sat for a second or two and then said, "While we were struggling to survive, Jonathan told me something that touched me deeply. He said that it was easy to hate, but hard to love, to love like God does. He said that when Jesus walked this Earth, he condemned the religious people because they didn't have the "love of God" in their hearts. He asked me if I had that love in my heart. I couldn't tell him that I did. I knew I had love for you and those I care for, but I was surprised to realize that I wasn't allowing God's love to exist. Is that what you're talking about?" he asked.

"Yes." she answered. "When I was at the Enguli Compound, I learned that we have a choice in this world, to follow our Lord Jesus down the narrow path to God, living by his principles and doing good in this world as long as we are here, or doing our own thing, without God. I want to follow that narrow path, Jim. I really do. I want to love, if I can, as much as I can, by His grace."

"So do I. I'm glad we can do it together," he said with a large, grateful smile to his wife.

Shelly looked at the precious people in her life: the children sleeping sweetly and peacefully nearby, her best friend next to her. She laid her head on Jim's shoulder and looked out his window, watching the orange and pink clouds float by.

We're safe for now. Thank you Lord so much for all you have done for us. I wish we could keep Tom and Faith. I have grown to love them so much. But, I know their grandmother must love them too. If only we could be a family together somehow, Lord. It feels so right.

Shelly sighed and felt a peace about His will in their lives.

One day at a time. One step after another down that narrow path to you Lord, I come, she vowed.

The military transport flew on toward home, into the setting sun. God's provision awaited them. Indeed, it waits for us all, if we look for Him down that narrow path.

Epilogue

HOW DO WE understand the wonderful and wretched things that happen to us in life? Are we aware of how much these things mark us and mold us into who we are? There is an enormous cost to our spirit and psyche when evil touches us... Doesn't God love us? Why doesn't He protect us? Or does He? Isn't His hand in it somewhere? It must be, if he's a personal God. But why does it seem that there are those in life that are blessed, while others suffer so... or do we all suffer to one degree or another, because of evil? Are we not all God's children? He isn't indifferent, is He?

No... He can't be. That is not who He is. The Bible tells us that God is love, not that He wants to love, but that love is what He is.

Then why are there things like death, injustice and misery in this world? Can't God prevent them? Or does He have a reason for staying His hand? Surely when sin entered this world it brought those things with it, but why does God allow it? Is He testing us?

He is also light, the Bible tells us, yet do we understand what that light really is, as we see it through the dark lens of this fallen world?

And if we really look, can't we see He is trying to rescue as many of us as He can. Why do we run from Him? Why is He the last resort for some of us, when we are so desperate, so hurt, and at the end of our ropes? We make up gods of our own, instead of knowing the one and only God, Jehovah. It's unbelievable that so few of us want to be rescued. We try everything, but God to make us happy.

And death... how do we face that? It seems so final when we are on this side of heaven. Our spirits grieve over it. Yet if we could see it from heaven's point of view... a life coming to be with God, it wouldn't seem so painful and final, would it? Why is it then, when the same event happens to two people, they don't react in the same way? When a child dies, do we not grieve? Yet some respond by hating God, while others draw closer to Him for solace?

Is it wisdom, faith, love... or maybe all of them woven together that allows us to be comforted? Surely it's something like that.

I guess the biggest question to ask is, do we love God for what He can do for us, or do we love Him because He is God?

Shelly sighed. Many deep and troubling thoughts swirled around her as she sat in the Boeing 737, her head resting against the seat as she peered out the portal of a jetliner high in the air. Rain splattered against the window as it fell on its way to the earth below. The drone of the engines encompassed her.

She didn't have the answers to the questions floating around in her soul, but she wanted to discover them. She wanted to understand God and to know Him more intimately.

Her memories of Kenya and its decimation had sparked these issues afflicting her spirit. She marveled at how unreliable life seemed. How could she not think that, after witnessing so much fear, violence and tragedy in that war ravaged country? Now, she knew how truly frail life is.

Man and his lack of a connection to the real God of the universe had caused the war. Though she was grateful she had a deeper faith through that experience, committing herself to God's narrow way of life, the horror of so much death, destruction and evil would haunt her for the rest of her life. How could it not? For that experience had etched another facet into the person known as Shelly Elizabeth Ferguson. How she reacted to it was up to her and she had chosen to draw closer to God.

The jetliner dipped its wings and slid slowly downward, descending through the rain soaked clouds to the Spokane International Airport below. Shelly watched their descent through the gray mist, observing the dimly lit farm lands and homes slowly glide past. She was coming home to an uncertain future with Tom and Faith. And she missed Jim. He wasn't there beside her to comfort her.

His absence left a void, but not like the fear and loss she had experience in Africa when he was missing, for she knew where he was. She knew it was temporary. She knew he needed to stay, yet his absence was sorely felt. Jim was with the children's grandmother. Shelly closed her eyes and recalled the events of the past few days.

* * * *

The Fergusons had arrived at the Portland International Airport with the children expecting to meet Mrs. Jeremiah Madison, "Grammy" the children called her, at the gate. Grammy was going to have everyone stay with her that night in her small home in the Portland suburbs and Shelly was looking forward to helping her settle the children into their new home before their necessary goodbyes. How she dreaded the thought of saying those words, but it must be done.

Yet, she was looking forward to going home too – home - the word invoked a yearning in her heart for the safety, security, and familiarity of her dwelling place. Of Jim by her side, her soft bed, her cat, and familiar things around her, of having her old life back. But could she get it back? Probably not... at least not in the same way it had been, for she wasn't the same.

As they exited the aircraft into the terminal, Grammy wasn't there. They waited with what little luggage they had. She did not appear. Her name was called over the intercom system and they waited. Maybe she was confused and had gone to the baggage area looking for them, but she wasn't there either. Hours went by, phone calls went unanswered, and worry took root on what could have happened to her. They took a taxi to Alice Madison's home, and found it deserted. Concerned turned into anxiety and the police were called. Eventually, she was found at the local hospital.

The children's grandmother had experience a stroke while they were returning from Kenya. The loss of her son and daughter-in-law to war, along with the thought of raising her grandchildren alone, had taken an exacting toll on her. Through grief and stress the immobilizing catastrophe had come.

* * * *

Alice lay in the hospital bed, trapped in her own body. She was aware of her surroundings, but she was unable to communicate with the world around her. One side of her body felt dead and useless. Her inability to speak was beyond frustrating. She lay in uninvited isolation from the world she had known, upset and anxious for her future. As she lay there struggling to come to terms with her condition, she wondered how in the world she could care for the children. Alice fought hard to keep her anxiety at bay and remain calm. She needed to get well. She needed to be whole. The children needed her now. Somehow, she needed to let the Ferguson's know what had happened, where she was, and how to find her.

In the afternoon, she observed two strangers walk into her hospital room with two children. Her eyes brightened at the sight of them and her heart skipped a beat when she thought they might be her grandchildren. Were they? After all, she hadn't seen her grandson since he was an infant. She looked at the boy. He was holding onto the woman's good arm so firmly, since her other arm was in a sling and cast.

Oh, how that child looks like my son when he was a boy, the same eyes and coloring, she thought, and how grown up he is. Soft tears formed in the corner of her eyes as her grief returned. Then she noticed the little girl. That must be Faith, she reasoned as she watched the little girl hiding behind the woman.

Alice understood why the children were so unsure. Tom wouldn't remember her and she had never met Faith. Her son and daughter-in-law had sent pictures and letters in the beginning, but the hard work and struggle to farm in that difficult country had taken its toll on the Madison family. Eventually, too soon really, they had resorted to periodic phone calls.

Now, years later, she had the memories of a wonderful son, beautiful daughter-in-law, along with a few precious photos and worn out letters of the small family in Africa. The last photo she had received was of the baby and a note of the day, time and weight of her new granddaughter, Faith Evangeline Madison.

Alice lay in her bed, trying to think, trying to bridge the gap of time and loss she felt, and somehow get her life back, so she could take care of the only family she had left in this world. The fear of foster care for the children and the bureaucratic welfare system weighed heavily on her.

Shelly walked over to the bed with the children in tow. "Mrs. Madison, these are your grandchildren, Tom and Faith," she informed the old woman under the white sheets, as she pointed to each child.

"I'm Shelly Ferguson and this is my husband Jim," she continued the introductions. "You and I talked every day from the embassy in Nairobi."

Alice could do nothing, but wave her good hand and make garbling sounds. With her speech slurred and her frustration evident, she remained entombed in her broken body. There was so much she wanted to know, so much she needed to tell them. How was she going to communicate with them? What would happen to these little ones now? How was she going to care for them? Where were they even going to spend the night? Tears slowly rolled from the corner of her eyes and down her soft, wrinkled old cheeks.

Shelly and Jim could see her anxiety. Shelly laid her good hand on the old woman's shoulder and softly said, "Alice, it's all right... we'll figure this out. We'll see that the children are taken care of. Please don't worry," she offered, guessing some of Alice's apprehensions.

"Why don't we try this," Jim enquired of Alice as he traded places with Shelly. He sat down in the chair and took hold of her old, frail hand. "We'll ask questions to help communicate and you can answer us with your good hand. Squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no. Let's see if we can get some things settled that way. Do you want to try it?" he asked.

Alice tried a smile which brought about a lop-sided grin. She squeezed his hand once.

"Good." he said with satisfaction.

"I know my wife has already shared with you all that she knows about your family and how the children were rescued in your phone conversations with her, but are there any more questions about Africa, for now?" he asked.

Alice squeezed his hand twice.

"Alright." he replied.

In that way they communicated for a while. There were times when Alice could not answer with just a yes or no. Like the time Jim asked if she wanted them to stay at a hotel and she had answered no. But then she realized she couldn't tell them where to sleep and what food to use and so many more things related to them staying at her home that she changed her mind. A hotel would probably be best, but how could she tell them? She was cutoff and adrift in her anxiety to converse with them.

Eventually, Jim and Shelly were able to figure it out, but the fatigue and stress had taken a toll on Grammy. They knew she needed to rest.

"We'll find a hotel nearby." offered Shelly, warmly, as they prepared to leave.

The children shyly hugged her and they assured her they would be back in the morning. Alice waved with her good hand, as they left the room. She was so tired, so weak, she closed her eyes and slept.

The next day, when they returned, Jim took her hand again and said, "Alice, it's clear you are in need of help, and not only for yourself, but with the children as well. Shelly and I have discussed a solution. We think it would be best if you let us take over for a while. Shelly and I can't stay here. We both have jobs waiting for us. So we'd like to find a place for you, temporarily, near our home in Mica, Washington. The children can stay with us until you are well enough to take over."

"I'll stay here and make arrangement for you to be transferred to a nursing home near us, as soon as the doctors say it's possible. And I'll see that your home is prepared for your absence. I'll do everything I can to see that you and the children are cared for. Is that alright with you?" he asked.

Alice closed her eyes for so long that Jim wondered if she couldn't bring herself to accept the help or if she was too ill and had fallen asleep.

Shelly added, "I've come to love Tom and Faith very much in the last few weeks. I would give my life for them. They will be safe and cared for with us, until you can take over," she added.

Tom said softly and with feeling, "Please Grammy."

When she opened her eyes, she looked at Tom and Faith and could see the pleading in the boy's eyes. He obviously felt safe with the Fergusons. She looked Jim in the eyes and squeezed his hand as long and as firmly as an old sick woman could.

"Good." He said with satisfaction. He realized it must have been hard for her to trust complete strangers with her life and those of her grandchildren. He wouldn't let her down.

Alice was grateful to have these caring people step in and take charge for a while. A tension eased inside of her. She closed her eyes and rested, really rested for the first time in quite a while.

* * * *

And so the plan was enacted and during the next three months the strangers became friends, the children visiting their Grammy daily. Papers were signed and the Ferguson's became Tom and Faith's Godparents.

Grammy looked forward to their visits, as they came without fail each day. They always brought her something to brighten her room... flowers, or a stuffed toy, even a shawl for her shoulders. But it was the times she spent with her grandchildren that made her life bearable.

Shelly or Jim would read to her and encourage her to get well. She tried and was even able to sit up in bed after a time, but her speech never returned.

Soon, too soon really, she became tired, oh so very tired. With a soft breeze blowing through her window and a full moon lighting up the warm summer night sky, Grammy gave up her life and passed away in her sleep.

Through Jim's boyhood dream, God had stepped in to provide a home for two orphans, while fulfilling the desire for children for the Fergusons and creating a family, a family that loved Him and wanted to serve Him.

Author's Note

God is not limited by time. He was there at the beginning of His creation. He is present with us now. And He is already there waiting for us at the end of this age, when time on this Earth will end. He knows how the story of our planet unfolds, and its ending.

Yet, He will intervene when we pray. People are healed, saved, rescued and helped because we choose to ask Him for His help and grace. He loves to grant the good and give light in this sad and dark world.

But He also intervenes when we don't ask. In times of war, death and destruction, He kept Jim and Shelly safe, providing what they really needed. Mattie's life was spared by the presence of Dr. Nathan Emery on the freeway that day. God knew it was time for Tom and Faith's parents to return home to Him, so He directed Shelly across the African wilderness to find the farm. His protecting arms kept them all safe and guided them to a place of rescue. And in the end, the deep desire for children was fulfilled for the Fergusons.

God provides all good things to those who love Him. It may not be happiness, health or riches in this life, though that can happen. But when we leave this Earth, we will be happy forever living in His light, obtaining heavenly bodies of beauty and grace, and receiving all the riches that God bestows.

While we're here, though, it's up to us to live the Christian life according to His light and teachings. Not making up our own rules, but living by His. Walking in that light, while God grants us the time to do it, down that narrow path to that single door, that is our Lord.

Other Books

This book is available in soft cover.  
To order, or find other eBooks by Alexa Stewart visit:  
www.AlexaStewartBooks.com

"God Bless you and yours in the years to come."  
...Bryne Press

