Sophie was surprised by this news. She knew of Sister Marie Claire.
The conflict here has increased of late. There is now gunfire in the distance, is now coming more often and often nearby. We have had two people killed here in the past four months. One, a young girl from the Darfur region, was a favorite of Sister Marie Claire. The good sister was devastated, both heartbroken and furious at the same time. It was Mr Martin who calmed her anger and since then, since he began flying, he has become more of a leader here every day. Now, the good sister turns to him for advice before the doctors or even me. He has a way of calming her, as I have said. She has been good for him. She teaches him of Sudan and its people and of the conflict, the nature of the conflict. It is hard to understand, hard especially for an American, I believe. When you have not experienced war, not seen this kind of cruelty and disrespect for life, it is hard to know how to respond to it. Even for us who have been here for some time, even we have not learned to understand why it is so cruel. The treatment of the children and the conditions they experience every day of their short lives, this is what pierces our hearts the most. The loss of hope and expectations is the worse. Seeing eyes that are empty of everything but fear is so tragic.
A problem is developing and it is causing me some amount of anxiety. The American pilot and one of the Slovakian doctors have begun asking why the church does not take a more active role in discussions with the governments of America and the European countries to intercede on behalf of the people of Sudan. These questions come now almost daily, on the evenings we can gather together, during and after the meals, when we have time to talk. Now the questions of why the church and the other nations refuse to help more than they do always dominate the talk. I tried to explain the role the church and others have played in seeking peace, but my explanations were met with more questions and apparent disappointment. I continue to explain, but I’m afraid Mr Martin and the doctors are looking for answers I cannot give. While she does not participate in these discussions, I’m also afraid that perhaps Sister Marie Claire sows the seeds of impatience in the pilot when they talk alone, but I do not know this for certain.
I should let you know that I may be returning to France in six months, perhaps less. The church has decided that I have been in Sudan long enough. I am afraid I am not disappointed. Our work here is important, but so difficult and frustrating. I miss you and our family. I miss France. Please write when you can. All my love to you both.
Jean-Robert
16
Looking like an old stove on wheels, each corner dipping up and down in counter motions, the dull white Land Cruiser moved down the track between Rumbek and the mission, following the sea swell ruts, small waves of African dirt, a land boat with two survivors aboard, Hanley and the young Irishman, Dr O’Connell. Bouncing along inside, they discussed a wide variety of topics, everything from the difference between Irish and Scotch whiskey to Hanley’s preferred current topic of destiny and the role it played in his life. The young doctor was resisting Hanley’s attempts to draw him into a conversation, too tired to talk after a long night tending to new patients, more children infected by measles.
Hanley was questioning the church’s position on fate and Sudan, which led to the young doctor trying to explain the role of destiny or determinism in Christian beliefs.
“The church believes that God’s divine providence carries man along as a swollen stream might. That man is free to swim against the stream, dog paddle with the current, try clinging to rocks along the way or float on his back and whistle or even drown. All of those actions represent man’s free will. No matter what he chooses to do, he still is carried along by the stream. Some Protestants believe a man is placed in the stream by God and can only float or drown. He has no choice. That is predestination.”
Hanley checked the fuel gauge, noticing again the Land Cruiser’s large black steering wheel was cracked from years of heat and sweat. Hanley said, “Yes, that makes sense. I thought it was a heaven or hell thing, no grey area, God doesn’t allow for wiggle room, tow the mark or burn. And, isn’t that really destiny? I still think an omniscient did, somewhere along the line, add destiny to the mix, beyond the obvious overly deterministic predestination bullshit. Or is that man-made? I mean, I think some people just have a certain fate in store for them. Let me give you an example. When I was young, just out of college, I worked for a company, Thompson Machine, that manufactured machined parts, some of which were used in the aviation industry. It’s where I got my start. I was on my way to Wichita, Kansas and stopped in St. Louis to see a company I hoped to land as a client. It was a disaster. It shook me up for weeks. It was probably as much bad luck as anything, but it was one experience, not the only one, but one that started me thinking about fate. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”
A young Hanley Martin had made a sales call to a company in St. Louis, one of his first stops as he headed west toward Wichita and its many aviation companies. As he waited in the lobby, the man he was to meet, the
