Appearing behind the nun, carrying the smallest child in her arms. Aisha told her the children were frightened, but alright. Leaving Hanley, the nun turned and led Aisha and the children from the plane, sitting all of them on the ground beneath the Beech. The morning air was now warm and the shade comfortable.
“I will go to the village for help. You will stay with the children right here. Do not leave or let any of the children leave. If someone comes near you, put the children back on the plane and close the door. Wait here until I return. Do you understand?”
Aisha nodded and the nun immediately turned toward the village and started off at a trot.
***
The girl watched the nun until she was perhaps three hundred yards down the road. She turned, counted the children, told them to stay where they were and entered the plane.
Moving toward the cockpit, she looked at Hanley, who was still unconscious, his head resting against the window frame. His mouth was open, his breathing a shallow wheeze. A thin line of blood ran from his lip and onto his shirt. Turning, she took a blanket from the floor of the cargo hold, placed it over the American, tucking it around his shoulders and arms. Putting her lips to his ear, Aisha whispered in Masalit, “You did it,” then turned and went back to the children.
33
Too much sugar; Elizabeth looked at the teaspoon and shook some back into the sugar jar. Putting sugar in tea was frowned upon by her friends or former friends, that is, but she didn’t care. She liked hot, sweetened tea, especially on cool fall mornings. From the kitchen window, she could see Weed lying in the sun, where she had chained him next to the garage, the flagstones of the patio freezing beneath her feet as she ran back to the warmth of the kitchen.
Just as she was about to stir her drink, the doorbell rang. I’m not expecting anyone, she thought. Maybe it’s Rocky. No, Rocky comes to the back door, taps and then comes in. Laying the spoon next to the cup, she turned and went to the front door. Carrie was sleeping over at her grandmother’s, which had allowed Elizabeth to sleep in on this Saturday morning. It was already ten o’clock and she was still in her underwear and a robe.
When she peeked through the side glass, Elizabeth was startled to see a nun standing on her front porch. She was puzzled for perhaps two seconds and then fear seized her and she slumped against the door. What else could it be?
Opening the door, she heard, “I’m Sister Mary Kathleen, a friend of your father and a friend of a nun serving in Sudan with your father. I’m sorry to have come here unannounced but I need to speak with you. May I come in?” Elizabeth tried to say yes, come in but could only manage a nod and waved her inside.
“What’s happened to him? Is he dead? Is he?” Elizabeth was close to crying, trying to control her panic as she asked the questions. Standing in the foyer, the morning sun through the side windows warmed Elizabeth’s feet.
“Is there somewhere we can sit?” the nun asked. Hanley’s daughter pointed to the living room then followed the nun as she walked to a wing-backed chair and sat. Elizabeth sat on a large sofa covered in a floral print fabric. The room was large, bright and airy. Elizabeth noticed the nun looking about the room, approval seemingly on her face.
“My friend is Sister Marie Claire. I believe you may know who she is. She has been working with your father for the past eight months at the clinic in Mapuordit. Yesterday, she and your father attempted the rescue of some children. These children had been taken into slavery in the cities of central and northern Sudan. Some people, a network or underground, committed to freeing the children, took them to a city called Kosit where your father, my friend and a young African man named Jumma flew to meet them and return the children to their families in the South. Soldiers fired on the plane as it sat on the runway. Jumma, the young African was killed. A member of the network and a young girl being rescued were also killed. Your father was wounded and taken to a clinic in Shambe, a small town between Kosit and Yirol. Your father’s plane was damaged by the gunfire and he was forced to land on a roadway near there. Sister Marie Claire walked to the town and received aid from people she knew in the town. People from the mission arrived and carried your father and the children to the town and then took the children on to Mapuordit. Sister Marie Claire stayed with you father and the doctors from the clinic.”
“Elizabeth, your father’s wounds are severe. He was shot through the side and the bullet damaged a kidney and a fragment lodged in his spine, nicking the spinal cord they believe. The doctors believe, but they’re not certain. It is infection and the loss of blood that is causing the most problem. He has been flown to Juba and will be evacuated to Nairobi and then to France.” As the nun explained what had happened at Kosti, Elizabeth covered her face and wept hard into her hands. She heard little of what the nun said after hearing her father was wounded. Her head swam as she thought of what to do, about Carrie and Rocky and the goddamned dog. Would her mother even care? How could this be happening? Why didn’t he stay in America? She wanted Rocky here.
***
Hanging up the phone, Rocky returned to her den to sit across from Elizabeth, still curled up on the sofa, Weed lying beside her. She held
