A Legacy for Bryan

by Marlene Bierworth

  In his excitement at her choice of restaurant, Bryan grabbed Katelyn’s hand and squeezed it.

  “I knew you’d like it.” She winked and removed her hand from his grip which forced his mind to remember their non-existent relationship—at least by his standards of what constituted a relationship between a man and a woman. They fell more under the category of cautious frenemies than anything else.

  Once inside, the smell of food fully accosted his senses. His nostrils breathed it in, and he licked his lips involuntarily while his eyes threatened to water from the tantalizing spices floating in the air. His ears picked up the distant clatter of iron pots and pans and the sizzle of a deep fryer. Maybe he could get something as normal as French fries there, believing that meat had to be served with a vegetable on the side.

  “Jambo!” came the now familiar greeting as the host rushed over to greet them. It appeared that the zebra bib-apron was the standard uniform for all employees—not just the cooks, but the man’s head covering was different than what Katelyn had described. The Native wore a typical, touristy straw hat with a wide, black and white striped ribbon wrapped around the crown. The smile spreading on his face beneath the rim lit up his bubbly features. Perfect white teeth seemed to jump out of his head in contrast to his rosy lips and the dark color of his skin. “A quiet table for two, sir?”

  He addressed Bryan, who nodded quickly. “Yes, that would be splendid.”

  They passed through the main dining area. The roof was held up by square posts, the half-walls of brightly polished bamboo creating sections within the room, allowing groups of diners some semblance of privacy. They walked through another alcove into a room of round tables—large enough to seat four or six—before they entered into a smaller, private room with windows closed to the cool evening air. Above each table hung unique chandeliers. The lights had been dimmed, and a red tablecloth had been stretched across the table for two.

  Bryan studied Katelyn, not wanting her to get the impression that he’d expected seating in such an intimate setting, but she didn’t appear to have made the wrong assumption, so he relaxed.

  He held the zebra-upholstered chair for her as she sat, then moved to the other side of the table.

  Katelyn spoke to the waiter: “Could you bring us a glass of red wine and an assorted plate of vegetables with your meat-feast special?”

  “Red wine?” Bryan asked when they were alone. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll fall off the wagon?”

  “You’re not an alcoholic, are you? I suspect you have more control over the amount you drink than you imagine. Besides, experts say a little red wine is healthy, and any beverage mixed with water is not always a good choice. Kenya has water issues—not usually in fine establishments or in the city, but I tend to steer clear, regardless. Force of habit.” She grinned. “This is our first evening together in Africa, and I want you to learn to love it as much as me.”

  “Not likely, given the circumstances of our agreement.”

  “Are you always so closed off?”

  “I’m normally known as the life of the party, but I suppose that was the booze talking. Life looks different when you don’t walk around with a continual buzz on.”

  “You hold onto that thought, and you just might make it through this testing time with an excellent score.”

  “Are you the teacher assigned to hand out marks at the end of my term?” Bryan asked. “Maybe I need to suck-up more.”

  “I can see through the suck-up, so don’t bother.”

  “Yeah, I forgot you had an in with divinity.”

  “I never forget that. It’s what keeps me doing what I do here,” Katelyn said, gazing thoughtfully out the window. “I’ve learned it’s not enough to heal physical bodies when their eternal souls are still at risk.”

  “I suppose suppressed individuals are easy to win over. They don’t have much to lose, so it can’t hurt to grab hold of a spiritual lifeline.”

  “God’s love is available to all classes of people and was never intended to be given as a crutch. Christianity is not for the weak-minded, but yes, He is a lifeline for those who bow their knee.”

  “Ah, here comes the wine—my preferred lifeline.”

  The rest of the evening went better than expected. Once they were off the topic of religion, he learned a lot about the country and the mission work the foundation did there. So much corruption fed poverty, and the two-class society of the filthy rich and the desperate poor managed to broaden his perspective about money—it had the power to be filthy and the opportunity to do good. Maybe his father had been onto something, giving his money to help the efforts there. Maybe he could spare some chump-change when he came into his rightful billions.

  When the waiter wheeled over a trolley with a sizzling-hot plate on it along with two swords, Bryan sat back in his chair, and all conversation died on his lips. The server lifted the serving-weapon, stuck it, point-side-down, on the plate. He held the other sword in his hand, grinning at Bryan’s reaction—obviously, the man had seen similar reactions before, and said. “Zebra. What’s your preference: well-done, medium, or rare?”

  “Medium, please,” said Katelyn and the waiter trimmed a thin slice of meat masterfully and put it on her plate with tongs.

  “You, sir?”

  And so, it continued, with every variety of meat Bryan could imagine and some about which he had no idea. If Katelyn tried it, so did he. He could be as adventurous as her, at least, in this endeavor.

  After a light dessert of banana streaked with chocolate syrup and sprinkled with sweet white icing sugar, they collapsed against the backs of their chairs. When he caught her eye on him, they burst into laughter.

  “I won’t need to eat again for a month,” Bryan moaned.

  “I wish that were the case,” Katelyn said. “Seems the tummy empties in a few hours and sets up again for the next indulgence.”

  “Thank you for this evening, Katelyn. I have enjoyed the food and the company.”

  “Have I endeared you to my fellow Africans?”

  “Yes, you have,” Bryan said. “I will enjoy exploring such a diversity of people and culture.”

  “Did I hear that right? What have you done with Bryan Charter the Fourth?”

  “Settle down. He’s still in here. I’m just trying to broaden my horizons.”

  “To that man, I will enjoy showing the country and its people,” Katelyn said.

  Bryan saw the lightness in her expression, almost as if a ton of weight had been lifted from her. “Have I been that unbearable?”

  She grinned. “Let’s just say that the man I met on the yacht over two weeks ago has somewhat expanded his vision. I enjoy the adventurous type, the kind with a heart bigger than his bankbook.”

  “Big shoes to fill,” Bryan said.

  “Perhaps, but I’ll settle for nothing less.”

  The intensity in her gaze revealed a depth he felt certain she did not display for every man crossing her path. Had their relationship taken a turn? Was it for the better or worse? Although he’d willingly opened himself up to the new African experience that she’d lived on a regular basis, it did not warrant or justify any of the feelings creeping up on him with the subtlety of a man on a quest for something deeper.

  He was probably reading far too much into the simple exchange—perhaps the overload of protein in his system was doing more than feeding his body. Yes, that had to be it—it was merely a natural response to an unnatural change in diet.

  Bryan straightened in his seat and stared out the window beyond the café tables to the setting sun. It stilled his heart, and he welcomed the peace it offered.

  Work to show yourself approved

  and discover what great rewards God has in store.

  Chapter 7

  Bryan arrived at the front medical entrance of the main building at seven-thirty sharp. Off to the side, he noticed tables and chairs set up under a protective roof with fresh drinking water and disposable cups on a table. He strolled inside
and saw a sixtyish woman speaking with Katelyn. They both looked up from the file they were reading.

  “Good morning, Bryan. You’re right on time,” Katelyn said. “Hope you slept well, for the crowd outside is gathering and will soon overrun us.”

  “I had a great sleep and look forward to assisting with crowd control.”

  The women laughed. “This is Shirley, my right hand here at the foundation.”

  Shirley walked over to stare at Bryan. “Welcome to the Green City in the Sun with an amazing culture for you to enjoy, unparalleled to any other city.” She peered closer and smiled. “You’re the spitting image of your father. If your heart is half as kind, I will know the Lord has answered my morning prayer for help. These crowds are getting too much for me to handle alone.”

  “You’ve never complained,” Katelyn said. “I had no idea.”

  “It’s just this bum knee that’s been keeping me awake at night.”

  “Can’t your doctor/hubby fix it up for you?” Bryan asked.

  “Doctor Jonas says the cartilage is gone. Might need a new one, but not today. We’ve got work to do, young man.”

  “Shirley, you stay here, and I’ll take Bryan to the front to sign in the guests.” When Shirley tried to object, Katelyn put up her hand. “I have a conference call with the next team at one, but I’m free as a bird this morning, so there’s no sense arguing.”

  Katelyn passed a crate to Bryan, grabbed a clipboard, and said, “Come on—let’s find some patients for this wonderful couple.”

  The moment they stepped outside the inner compound, Bryan saw the line stretching from the temporary tent to beyond the main gate for as far as he could see. He placed the crate on the table under the canvas and stationed himself over Katelyn’s shoulder, who’d sat down at the back of the tent and was scribbling notes on a page.

  The crowd seemed to know to wait, for the silence of the patients filled his ears with a quiet reverence. The Simms, Heal the World Foundation, was respected by the locals, and that said everything about its authenticity.

  Katelyn grinned when she saw his curious stare and then nodded at the crate. “Get out a stack of applications, a pen, and have yourself a seat, Bryan. This part is really quite simple: just fill in the information and ask them to sit over there, by the tree. When we have ten patients, you will escort them to the tented area outside the medical door and ask them to wait there. Then, bring the sheets in to Shirley and return here for the next lot.”

  He looked at the eager faces in the line and asked, “How does one person manage to do all that, not to mention, leave these hopeful faces wondering where she’s gone?”

  “Shirley is the most efficient person I’ve ever met, but her coming and going with new patients gives the doctor time to diagnose them and hopefully not create too much of a backup.”

  “Surprisingly, no one seems to be complaining about the wait time,” Bryan said.

  “No surprise at all. They realize our service is provided on a first-come, first-served basis. Africans are an easy-going lot, and the critically ill are pushed forward. They are also a generous bunch.” She noted the first person in the line and called out, “Jarmaine, how is your son doing?”

  And, so the day began. Bryan was relieved to find most of them knew English, which helped immensely in the communication department. He was the runner, but he enjoyed the opportunity to stretch his legs. During the brief walk to the infirmary, the Natives talked freely, commending the foundation for the opportunity for free examinations.

  At noon, Katelyn stood and stretched. “Lunchtime,” she cried, and Sheira appeared carrying a tray loaded with her chapatis. Each African in line received one, compliments of the foundation, and Bryan had a fulltime job, filling up disposable cups with drinking water.

  “Come on, Bryan,” Katelyn said. “Lunch is waiting for us in the dining tent, and Sheira will look after the rest of the people in the line-up.” When she passed Hamari, she said, “Time to close the first gate. The doctor will not have time to see any patients lining the street beyond the entrance. Be kind and tell them to return tomorrow.”

  Meals were served café style in the kitchen, and he and Katelyn moved along the line and filled their trays.

  “Chicken noodle soup?” Bryan said. “That seems a rather appropriate meal for a medical foundation.”

  “And my favorite. There’s something down-home about soup and crackers. Your deceased stepmother, Jasmin, always said that chicken broth had a special healing ingredient in it, and it would comfort both body and soul when one was sick.”

  “Wise woman,” Bryan said.

  “If you’d have stuck around the home front more often, you’d have probably heard it straight from her lips.”

  “Are you going to spoil my day with that kind of talk?” Bryan said as he headed to a nearby seat.

  She followed quickly behind him. “You’re right, and I apologize. Are you having a good day, Bryan?”

  “Sure. Lots of exercise and warm sun is the healthy part. Seeing the great numbers of sickly isn’t so good, but after the doctor treats them and they come out with big smiles and thankful waves, it makes it all worthwhile.”

  “We do have hospitals at home, filled with sick people—is this a new feeling, or have you always embraced compassion for the physically ill?”

  He laughed and picked up an egg salad sandwich. “I see where you’re going with this line of questioning, Katelyn Simms, and I’m not ready to play your game.”

  “I’m simply encouraging you to dig a little deeper into that well of potential character you hide so well.”

  “You are under the impression that the spoiled, wealthy brat has a character worthy of your time?”

  “I do, or you wouldn’t be here,” Katelyn said, “but better than that, God does, and He wants to reveal so much to you on this trip. I hope you will keep the ground furrowed around your soul, and let the new man take a sober peek at the world around him. Africa changes people, for the better, I think.”

  “Did I say I wanted to change?”

  “So, let me see if I got this right; is it your intention to treat this six-month adventure as a vacation from your party life to which you plan to return when this is all over?”

  Bryan couldn’t hold the intense gaze she delivered in her anxious expression, and he glanced away. If he said yes, he’d definitely lose points with the nurse in his quest for landing the inheritance. If he said no, like his heart suggested, his head would put up an equally difficult fight. Since he was defeated, either way, he pleaded the Fifth Amendment.

  “Chicken,” Katelyn said and changed the subject. “I won’t be joining you this afternoon, so when you reach ten new patients, bring them to the clinic anyway. The others in the line will wait for your return.”

  “Aren’t you afraid I might mess up?”

  “The end of the line is in sight. You won’t mess up. I have every confidence in your abilities to see this workday to a close, even if you don’t yourself.”

  “You realize this is my first job, right? My father—and even my grandfather when he was still alive and kicking—never chased me down to work in the family business. They didn’t even care if I earned a post-secondary degree. Maybe they figured I’d be a failure and it was easier to throw money my way and let me live as I pleased.”

  “Did you earn a degree despite their expectations?”

  “I did. Majored in business, of course, and minored in partying…or was it the other way around?”

  “Well, if your future pans out the way you want, you can dive into the business and prove to yourself that they were wrong about you.”

  “You do paint a worthy picture of possibilities for me. How on earth will I ever live up to your expectations?”

  “Discovering your personal worldview and building a godly character is not for my benefit, Bryan. Do it for yourself. Validate respectability to your own heart, and all the clutter will fall by the wayside.”

  “You can�
��t stop the preacher in you from showing up at every opportunity, can you?” Bryan said. “You are a puzzle, and I have no idea how to put all the pieces together.”

  “Stop trying. You are not here for me, but for yourself.” She jumped to her feet. “And my call is about to start. Finish your lunch, then head back to the front. I’ll see you at supper. Six o’clock. Might have some news to share about our next great adventure by then.”

  Bryan watched as she walked out the door. There would be no one to hold his hand that afternoon or to give out rewards for good behavior. Those realities should have been enough for him to revert to the precious month’s carefree mode.

  When the last crumb of cake was eaten, he stood, surprised at the energy and motivation gripping his being. Maybe there was hope that he’d meet her criteria, after all.

  When the last of the line had been registered and brought to the infirmary, Bryan lingered outside at the water station and began to fill cups and bring them to the exhausted patients. The folks had waited all day to be seen by the doctor, yet their faces remained hopeful he would cure them.

  Bryan sat on the hard ground next to a young boy wearing a red and blue checkered shirt with black shorts that were soiled and badly in need of patches. He felt drawn to the boy’s rosy cheeks and blank expression.

  “How are you feeling?” Bryan asked him.

  “Not good, sir.”

  “I’m sorry it’s been such a long day for you.”

  “I’m happy to get inside. This is the third day I have tried.”

  “You’ve stood in this line three times?”

  “The medicine man here is very popular.”

  “Do you live in Nairobi?”

  “I live outside Masai Mara with my family. We have many cattle, but some are sick like me.”

  “You didn’t tell me that when I wrote up your report. You must tell the doctor, or perhaps more of your people will get sick.” Bryan had heard of sick cattle infecting and wiping out entire tribes. He felt the boy’s head. “You have a fever. What’s your name again?”

  “They called me Jerrod after a white man who was kind to our family when I was born.”