A Legacy for Bryan

by Marlene Bierworth

  “Not yet,” she grinned. “As I said, we are only on day one.”

  “Just because I’m forced to accompany you on this outlandish adventure, doesn’t mean I’m headed to the altar to give my life and money away. My father has already given away all the Charter charity this world is going to get.”

  “The smallest compromise to your rebellious attitude is enough to start with.” She stood and picked up her purse. “How about we grab a sandwich before we head to the clinic?”

  Bryan groaned as he pushed away from the table. “Might as well whip me while I’m down, woman.”

  “I am not your babysitter, Bryan. You will make or break yourself by the choices you make.”

  “Nice to know. You’ll have your hands full being my bodyguard, protecting me from all those wild animals with your trusty gun.”

  After the vaccine shots in his arm and backside, everything that followed seemed to flow easily. It also moved along at super-speed. Two weeks flew by, filled with shopping for the necessary clothes and equipment while attending classes that taught the importance of meeting the nationals at their level and understanding cultural differences. As guests in their country, it was important to treat all Africans with respect despite their station in life, and above all else, to exhibit unconditional love, the best kind a man had to offer.

  Bryan’s brain played the honorable ideals taught to him over in his mind and pictured their faces in his dreams at night, but the words or images did not produce the reactions the mission had hoped for. An all-consuming love might be apparent in other people’s activities and attitudes, but it would not gain a foothold in his heart—not now or ever. Religion made it sound so easy to practice faith in a tangible way, but Bryan knew he was not ready to love that way. At least he did not feel like a hypocrite by facing this undignified truth about himself. To his way of thinking, he figured Katelyn had enough love for the mission field to cover the both of them, and he’d sail through the African adventure on her coattails, even if it killed him to put the party-life on hold.

  Some days were harder than others for Bryan as he struggled to keep up the façade, especially with Katelyn breathing down his neck through the whole process. He wondered if she held every new recruit’s hand or just his for her own reasons, which, to his dismay, he began to suspect were more spiritual than monetary. It was easier to believe she was simply after the money, the same as him.

  Bryan was stubborn, and he dug his heels in, pushing all the scraps of preaching she uttered quite naturally and liberally in one ear and out the other. He had never appreciated his prior wealthy status more than now, when his future was in limbo, and recognizing it only fed his urge to defeat Katelyn and his deceased father at their own game—no one was going to cheat him out of his inheritance. So, with no other choice, he’d see this agony through to the end. Three or maybe six months seemed like forever, but it was a worthy sacrifice to obtain the billions waiting for him at the finish line.

  “How about I take you out to dinner?” he offered the night before they flew out.

  Katelyn raised her eyebrow and said, “You still have money? Your father would be impressed.”

  “Beatrice took pity on me before she left to visit some relations in Montana. She cooked me up a bunch of dinners and put them in the freezer. I will remember her loyalty when I rehire the penthouse staff.”

  “You sound pretty sure you’ll rise to your father’s standards in time to inherit,” Katelyn said.

  “You must admit, I’m trying. Have I denied any of your requests so far? You said it yourself: I get an A for effort.”

  “We are still in America,” she said. “Things will be more difficult in Africa.”

  “I hang out with a buddy from South Africa. He’s okay.”

  “A rich buddy, no doubt. We won’t be socializing with that sort.”

  “You make me out to be a monster,” Bryan said in a raised voice. “I’ve been to the Bronx.”

  “Passed through is probably more likely.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “Forget it, then. I will go and have my last meal in civilization alone.”

  “Is that what’s worrying you—the type of food you’ll eat while in Africa?”

  “Cities, I’m sure, have real food, but the jungle? I’m not into eating organs, snakes, or bugs.”

  “You could afford to lose some weight,” Katelyn said. “A steady diet of liquor is fattening, you know.”

  His voice grew angry. “You need to give me a break, woman. I’m trying my best. I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow at two. Suddenly I’d rather eat alone.” He started toward the door to show her the way out.

  He watched her head lower, and she bit her rosy bottom lip lightly. “I apologize. You’re right. God showed me mercy and does not throw my sins and failures in my face. I should do likewise for others. If the offer still holds, I am in the mood for a Chinese buffet. We will not see one of those in the jungle.”

  “But maybe the spiders and bugs they dish up in those places might resemble it.” He grinned.

  “American-Chinese food. Just rice, meat, noodles, vegetables…that variety of food. They even have a salad bar. You won’t be eating much of that either, unless of course, you wash it until it squeaks clean and tastes like soap.”

  “Sounds yummy. And you honestly like doing this mission stuff?” He chuckled and grabbed his sports jacket. “Come on—I know just the place.”

  It felt good to call a truce. He didn’t like it anymore when he and Katelyn were at odds with one another. Over the past two weeks, she’d proved to be good company, hilarious at times with her silly antics and lame jokes, and shockingly, he no longer fought her on every detail when she claimed God was this, or God did that. Not to say that he’d surrendered to Christianity by any measure of the imagination, but he’d learned to tolerate her rambling. Hopefully, tonight, she’d just relax and enjoy their last evening in the homeland.

  God works in mysterious ways, His purposes to unfold.

  Chapter 4

  Bryan woke in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. He got out of bed, landing on his feet before his eyes had opened. The lion had returned in his dream, and his father was still straddling its back. Neither had been aggressive toward him but simply appeared to be standing guard. He attempted to see beyond them, but an eerie darkness had cloaked the background, and the animal’s powerful growl had left prickles on his skin for a long time after he’d awakened.

  Bryan shivered uncontrollably and reached for his bathrobe. He turned on the hall light and made his way to the living room, then straight to the bar. He’d done well to steer clear of the vice upon which he’d grown to depend, but that night he felt like giving in to the temptation—hard liquor calmed his nerves.

  Inside his head, he heard a gentle whisper saying, “Come to me,” and when he grasped the neck of the bottle, his hands shook.

  What was happening to him? He’d never been bothered with nightmares before, probably because he’d passed out most nights, and nothing short of a wrecking ball could have woken him. Bryan poured a glass of whiskey, dropped into an armchair, and stared at the dim light filtering in from the hallway.

  “I am the light,” the whisper came again.

  “Who’s there?” he yelled, shrinking back against the leather to avoid the strange allure of the summons that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

  “I am who they say I am,” came the whisper. After that vague introduction, Bryan downed the entire tumbler of alcohol.

  “Well, you’re all fired, and I’m leaving the penthouse tomorrow—locking it up tight—so get out and don’t come back.” Bryan’s voice shook, and he chided himself for acting like a scared kid instead of a grown man. He had no idea if any of the staff were still in residence; that’s how observant he was.

  The voice didn’t respond, and the air suddenly became breathable again. Try as he might, he couldn’t blame the vision on a booze-binge, which, sad to
say, did not bring him the peace he craved but instead, left him feeling slightly fearful of the unknown source of the disembodied voice.

  What time Bryan finally fell asleep, he didn’t know, but he sprang from the La-Z-Boy chair when the pounding at the door refused to cease. He swung the door open, ready to bark his anger only to come face to face with Katelyn.

  Her brows raised as she scanned him.

  Bryan glanced down at his disheveled appearance, wrapped the loosened housecoat around his body, and tightened the belt.

  “You’re early,” he groaned.

  “No, you’re late,” she said. “I buzzed from downstairs, but you didn’t answer. Why aren’t you dressed and ready to go to the airport?”

  Bryan mumbled under his breath and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “Had a bad night. Come on in. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  It was the quickest shower he’d ever had. He didn’t bother to trim the scruffy beard he preferred wearing, simply because it took less maintenance, and the girls seemed to like it. His cheeks appeared hollow, and his brows and hair seemed darker than usual against his skin. He’d had the good sense to lay out his clothes before bed, and he pulled on his beige pants, striped shirt, and blue sports coat. Bryan stashed his last-minute toiletries into his bag, looped it over the handle of his suitcase, and wheeled it down the hall.

  “Ready!” he shouted.

  Katelyn appeared from the kitchen to offer him a cup of coffee. “Black, no sugar—the wake-up brand.”

  He downed the hot liquid in three gulps and placed the empty mug on the entry table. “Now, I’m definitely ready.”

  “You think you are,” she teased. “You will either fall in love with Africa or hate it.”

  “Three months, right? I can stand anything for that long, as long as it leads me to the bank on our return home.” He watched the brightness humor had produced in her golden-brown eyes, die, and a deep sadness descended upon her.

  She walked to the door, rode the elevator down to the ground level, and left the building in silence. He’d attempted to ignite her former frame of mind to no avail, and when he noticed John, the New York chauffeur, waiting at the curb, and catering to every direction Katelyn gave, he wondered as to her pull with the Charter staff.

  Once the car was on the move, Katelyn continued gazing out the window, lost in thought, and it bothered him far more than he cared to admit. He’d disappointed her. She’d actually begun to think he was sold on the whole project simply for adventure’s sake. Africa had never topped his bucket list of places to see, although he’d heard the continent offered almost nineteen thousand miles of coastline and with it, an array of spectacular beaches. And he did love beaches.

  “Do you think we might squeeze some time in between projects to go to Diani Beach? It was somewhere down the page on my to-do list,” he lied, hoping to make her believe he’d actually wanted to visit Kenya someday. When she didn’t tell him to shut up, he blundered on. “Heard it’s a twelve-mile stretch of palm-fringed beach, and they keep it pristine and clear of seaweed. There’s a coral reef just offshore. Have you ever gone diving?”

  The detailed information got her attention. “Did you Google that just to impress me, Mr. Charter?”

  “Me? Never. What do you say—want to escape to the most popular, intimate, paradise beach in Kenya? I think it’s close to the city.”

  “It’s an eight-and-a-half-hour drive from Nairobi, on the Indian Ocean just south of Mombasa,” she said. “I’ve been there already.”

  “Good. Then you can be my tour guide.”

  “Your father did not monetize this trip for you to sunbathe on sandy beaches. While tourists go to play the leisure game, we are going to provide medical attention to the poorest inhabitants of the land.”

  “I know, and you did hear me say only if we had a few days between the teams arriving? I’m sure I said something to that effect.”

  “You did,” Katelyn said, “and I will certainly watch for an opportunity to rest and enjoy the beach. Three months is a long time.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  John pulled to the curbside and parked. He was the first one out of the car and the cases were sitting on the cement platform by the time the two in the back seat had exited.

  “Thanks, John,” Bryan said. “Appreciate your service, but I have no cash for a tip. Now that you’re freelancing, I’m sure that’s a big part of your income.”

  “Your father has allowed some of the house staff to be at my disposal, when necessary,” Katelyn said. “They have been generously compensated, but you will notice the Africans like to feel cash in their palms. They will move mountains for you if the price is right.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he said, “if you decide to put any of the green back in my pocket to share with the good people.”

  “I’ll do most of the tipping for both of us and will pay for any necessary items we require.”

  “Mmm—the woman controlling the purse strings; Daddy thought of everything.”

  “He was a wise man. I hope you begin to see the person he became in his later years,” Katelyn said as she grabbed the handle of her bag. “Now, we must hurry.”

  “How did you meet him again?” Bryan asked as he hurried to catch up to her retreating figure.

  “I knew his wife.”

  “Oh, yes—the high-and-mighty Bible-thumper.”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling. “I knew her all my life. She lived next door, and when my parents were kept busy with their careers, she was always at home. We baked cookies together and she tutored me in mathematics. She must have read the entire local library of children’s books to me. Jasmin also introduced me to Jesus. The woman was an angel sent from God, and when she married your father, their home always held an open invitation for me to visit. Even after her death, your father and I grieved together. So, when he got sick, it only seemed natural for me to nurse him through his final months.”

  “Pay it back—I get it,” Bryan said. “And look what that got you; a cool billion dollars.”

  “I don’t need your father’s money to run my foundation, but I do appreciate his support for the work overseas.”

  “That many billionaires on your leash, huh?”

  “Don’t make this about money,” Katelyn said. “If you do, you’ll miss out on the entire experience your father wanted to give you.”

  “Well, remind me to say a prayer of thanks to the old man when his lawyer signs the multi-mega-billions over to me.”

  Katelyn ignored him, scanned the tickets, and moved toward the check-in counter. She was back to giving him the cold-shoulder, and he made a mental note to steer clear of the topic of money in the future. He and Katelyn obviously did not appreciate its value for the same reasons.

  During their brief layover in London, England, Bryan and Katelyn opted to stretch out on a row of unoccupied chairs in the airport and snooze. When the attendant shook them awake, they boarded another plane to complete their journey. After fifteen hours in the air enduring economy’s under-privileged, tight conditions, Bryan was ready to stretch his legs, shower, and sleep.

  “I’m exhausted,” Bryan moaned. “So, tell me again, Miss Simms—why couldn’t we fly first class? Daddy get cheap with the fare?”

  “It’s unnecessary to waste money on such luxuries. The needs are great in this country, and who know? You might soon wish for the comfort economy class accommodations has to offer.”

  “Are you trying to scare me, or do you just enjoy watching my reaction to living on the other side of the tracks?”

  “Neither,” she said. “Africa is not about you. We are here for them.”

  “Yeah, so you say.”

  A voice came over the loudspeaker: “This is your captain. We will soon arrive in Nairobi. Thank you for traveling with us, and we hope your time in Kenya is a wonderful experience. Please, return to your seats, buckle up, and prepare for landing. Remember to set aside the American dollars required for
your departure date. Goodbye, everyone, or as they say in Swahili, kwa herini.”

  Those were the words Bryan yearned to hear, sooner, rather than later. Three months suddenly sounded like an eternity. He gazed through the small compartment window at the crowds of people swarming on the surface, gathering to greet friends or family.

  The plane touched the ground, and before long, the big bird slowed and came to a stop on the runway.

  Bryan let out a sigh of relief. They were there, for better or worse. There was no backing out now.

  God is in the business of refining character.

  Chapter 5

  They grabbed their carry-on bags and moved into the aisle. He sensed Katelyn’s excitement and tried to latch onto it instead of entertaining the dread that overwhelmed him at times. He chalked it up as this being new territory, and most definitely, a new schedule. They walked through the tunnel into the airport, and upon noticing people on the everyday move, it managed to ease his fears. You’d have thought he’d never traveled before, whereas that was his life, searching the globe for his next great adventure. He wondered why he couldn’t just categorize this trip along with the many he’d had in his past. It was probably because his future heavily depended on its success, and he knew that working with the medical volunteers would not be his norm.

  Going through customs was intimidating. Guards with guns stood ready to apprehend or shoot down anyone resisting the African regulations, but he followed Katelyn’s lead and was impressed when one of the officers recognized her and ushered them through with minimal interrogation. They moved into a huge room to wait for their luggage to come around on the conveyor belt. In the end, it turned out to be one of the easiest arrivals he’d experienced, but then, he only had the comparison of traveling with his party crowd, which almost always invited suspicious harassment.

  Katelyn waved at a man as he came rushing over. She hugged him fiercely. “Hamari, I’ve missed you.”