***
A half-dozen boys and men stood beneath the tree, near the road leading to Shambe. Some shaded their eyes while others, mostly the boys, covered their ears, keeping out the noise of the Beech’s engine, their dark faces gathered, bunched around their noses, expressions ranging from fear to fascination. Michael Campbell occasionally glanced their way, but watched the cattle more carefully, looking for any movement toward the roadway. A member of the Mapuordit mission staff asked the oldest of the men to move the cattle further away from the road, but the cattle remained where they were when Michael and the others arrived.
Earlier, on the way to Shambe with a doctor and two of the men who worked around the mission, Michael explained he was to fly the plane to France, to an airport near his home in Saint-Nazaire. There, it would stay and undergo further repairs and maintenance before being flown back to America, a difficult flight. The flight to France would not be easy, but he hoped to be there before the week’s end. He would file a flight plan for Morocco from an airport in Chad. He could not chance a flight plan before leaving Sudan.
A call from the mission to a friend in England, the owner of a Beech 18, helped Michael with the start-up procedures. Hanley was in no shape to talk about the Beech. Michael watched Hanley do it before, once in Indiana and when Hanley left France for Sudan. The procedures went well and he was about to lift off. With any luck, he would be home for dinner in three days.
36
October 30, 2001
Dear Hanley,
This letter must be brief for I have many things to do and they must be completed soon.
I hear you have been moved to a private room from the intensive care area. That is the best news I have had since we landed in Shambe. I hope and pray for your recovery every day. I believe God brought you here and your purpose was to give hope back to the children. The prayers I say are for the children also.
The church has decided to work to reunite the children with their families. What else can they do, no? The kidnappings were illegal and the church will help, this I have been told. I stay with the children every day, helping them wait, using Jumma’s journal to identify their families. You would be proud of how Jumma did this. The information he gathered about the families and the children was written as questions each child could be asked, the answer the information that would identify the child as belonging to that family. Even the youngest, who might not remember, could be helped this way. Jumma was so very bright. I am proud of him. His life was important and continues to be so.
I am leaving Sudan tomorrow, flying to Cairo from Juba and then to Paris. The church has instructed me to take a leave of absence, a month, to consider my future, but that requires no thought. I know what I will do. I will not be returning to Sudan, at least not as part of the church.
I spoke with Michael Campbell yesterday before he left for Shambe. He is taking your plane to Morocco and then to Saint-Nazaire, saying the entire trip would take less than seven days. He said the plane would be returned to America. I think that is wonderful. He is a good friend, one who cares for you, cares deeply.
I will write to you when I am back in France at my mother’s home. I wanted to return to Kenya to see you, but could not. I hope you understand. Give your daughter and Ms. Vincenti my warmest wishes.
Adieu,
Sister Marie Claire
***
Elizabeth folded the letter, placed it on the bedside table, handling it as if it were a soiled diaper. “That takes nerve, I’ll say that. I thought about tossing the damned thing in the trash, but Rocky said you should read it, or hear it. Same thing. I’m glad they’re sending her back to Europe. She should never have left there. They could have sent her ass to Iran or somewhere like that,” she said, looking out the window. Hanley did not respond, was not listening. The letter depressed him. Certainly, he was glad the children were safe and maybe would be reunited with their families, but the mere mention of Jumma’s name brought on more guilt. Hanley was suffering from enough already.
Rocky was back at the hotel. Hanley was glad. Much of his guilt was for what he believed he had done to Elizabeth and Rocky. Jumma was simply more. The irony was in the fact that his search for clarity, to find the answer, did he owe a debt for his good fortune, had not produced an answer, only the knowledge he no longer owed anyone anything other than an apology. The knowledge was an empty one.
***
December 2, 2001
Dear Hanley,
Today I spoke with Sophie and Michael Campbell. I was surprised to hear you were flown to Rome and then America without a stop. My information was not good information, I fear. I was hoping for a chance to see you before you went on to Indiana. They were kind enough to invite me to visit them in Saint-Nazaire. Next week, I will drive to see them. My new apartment near Limoges is not that far. I will see the plane. Michael said the damage has been repaired. He hopes to return it to you in the spring.
After I returned to France, I was here a week, I was summoned to Paris to the office of Father Bertrand’s successor, Father Ranson, a truly colorless man. Father Bertrand is quite ill and will not return to serve the church. Father Ranson was polite, but blunt. My actions, he said,
