She Knows Her God

by Joy Ohagwu

  Stacy touched his now-clean hand. “Thank you very much for your help. I’m sure I couldn’t have handled it alone—after all, good intentions only go so far. God bless you. What about the gunshot wound?”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Black. It’s a flesh wound, so she should be fine. And since the bullet went straight through, I”—he made air quotes—“technically didn’t treat it. So I won’t report it, but rather, I leave that obligation to you. Excuse me.”

  As the pharmacist left, Stacy sat down and settled her head in her hands.

  The wounded girl’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, leading Stacy to give God thanks. This could’ve ended differently had she not gone out to the mailbox. Only then did she remember she’d dropped the mail on the ground outside.

  Going out of the center, she found it right where it had fallen and placed it inside the mailbox, then closed it. She waved Bishop over, and he returned into the center with her. “I didn’t see anyone acting weird.”

  “Good. You should eat.” She gave him a slight shove toward the kitchen.

  “Uh-uh. Not after all that bloody sight. I think I’ll pass. I might get some fries out from the fridge and try to eat some. But I can’t eat a full meal.”

  They entered the common room where the others were speaking with low voices, probably not to disturb the girl.

  When the pharmacist returned and set up the IV, he left instructions for the girl’s care.

  Stacy pulled up a chair and sat next to where the girl lay, praying about everything bothering her heart. She poured it all out to the Lord until, not long into the evening, she fell asleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  …The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; 2 Samuel 22:2

  * * *

  When Julia woke up, pain shot through her. She groaned and tried to turn. Something tugged her back onto the bed, and a pinching feeling caused her to stop moving. She blinked her eyes open. Light wafted in from a bedroom window, and the bed felt narrow, like it was for a smaller person.

  “You’re sleeping on my bed,” a female voice said.

  Julia tried to turn to the other side, ignoring the pain shooting up her arm and leg. What hurt so bad?

  “You should stop moving,” the stranger said again.

  Curious as to whom it was, Julia peeled her eyelids open again, and the same sunlight warmed her face. As she recalled what she last remembered, her heart beat faster. She gripped the sides of the bed and tried to rise when pain throbbed through her head enough to send her back down.

  “Mrs. Black! Mrs. Black! The girl is awake! Hurry,” the same female spoke again. Obviously, someone either as young as or younger than Julia was. She remembered the woman at the mailbox. Was the girl her daughter?

  Soon, a large figure loomed over her, but she couldn’t make out her face clearly. Or was it her vision swimming? “My whole body hurts,” Julia groaned out. “Water.”

  The woman touched her forehead. “It seems the fever broke. Praise God. I was going to call the hospital if it didn’t cool by this evening.”

  Her voice sounded familiar. Julia tried to place where she’d heard it, but everything felt fuzzy to her mind.

  “Abel, bring me some drinking water,” the woman said.

  Soon, she felt a soft tap. “Sip a little. You haven’t eaten in two days, so please take it slow.”

  She did, and the water strained itself through her tight throat. But she took a few more sips before pain overwhelmed her again. “Th–thank you. Where am I?”

  Someone began saying something, but her mind clouded as sleep tugged her into oblivion.

  Julia felt stronger when she woke up again. She could see clearly for one—more than enough to make out the woman pacing the room and the glow of a setting sun. She must’ve moved loudly because the woman stopped and faced her. “Thank God you’re awake. The pharmacist was going to get you to the hospital. How are you feeling?” The woman placed dark-brown hands on her curvy hips. As she approached, the kindness in her eyes made Julia’s heart slow its wild pace.

  She was safe. Safe enough to ask. “Am I in the same place I fell?”

  The woman smiled and unfurled her arms, drawing close to the bed and peering in her face. “You remember. Good.” She straightened. “What else do you remember?”

  Julia spouted a few things, stopping at her escape, unsure of who else was listening.

  “How long did you walk? Minutes or hours?”

  “Hours.” How much could she safely say? “The pain has reduced.” She held her breath, hoping the woman wouldn’t make an issue of the change of topic.

  Her eyes narrowing, the woman observed her and went along. “You have been on strong pain relievers for at least three days. I’m sure that has helped.”

  Julia’s gaze fell to the white bandage around her leg. “The bike that hit me.”

  “Was that what caused the leg injury?”

  She nodded. “I wasn’t paying attention, and neither was he. I couldn’t let him take me to the hospital. Sorry for falling into your property. I will be on my way as soon as I can walk.”

  The woman straightened and chuckled. “That will likely not happen for a couple more weeks, if not months. Your leg is more injured than your arm. Though I’m told the healing will be fast, the recovery and your ability to walk again will take time.”

  Julia’s throat felt dry. “I–I need to leave. I don’t want to put you in danger.”

  “In danger with whom?”

  As her heartbeat sped up, she darted her gaze away. “I–I want to rest now.”

  The woman stared at her for a long time, so long Julia was sure she had a lot to say. But she simply walked away.

  Julia buried her head into the pillow, and tears soaked the white foam. She wanted to say thank you. To appreciate the woman’s kindness, without putting herself in danger.

  How did she tell her she had barely escaped with her life and she couldn’t go home nor contact her family or she might get them killed?

  How did she make this sweet soul of a woman know she was grateful and yet couldn’t tell her about herself?

  What would happen if she told her everything?

  Sobs shook her shoulders.

  Never in her life had she felt so conflicted. So alone. So surrounded by decisions and unable to make any.

  If this nice woman made a decision that put them in danger, Julia couldn’t run. She was injured. She was stuck. She could die. She swallowed hard and reached a tough decision. She would be courteous and respectful. She would express her gratitude. But she’d stave off questions about herself until she absolutely could not.

  Then she should be strong enough to walk—and leave.

  The aroma of food sailed into her nostrils, and she sniffed it in. Her belly responded with a growl. The food aroma had first drawn her attention here. Then the accident had happened. And here she was.

  Sighing, she touched her arm. It answered with a deep throb, and she winced. She glanced at her leg. The one with the bandages on it. They’d put a homemade cast on it for her. Hunger growled her belly again.

  Should she ask for food?

  Would she get food without answering questions?

  She lay on her back, and a tear streamed down the side of her face.

  At home, she hadn’t needed to think of what to say to get food. Mom always made sure she had food. She was loved and free and didn’t appreciate it, rather she’d focused on things she didn’t have—her mom’s full attention, her mom’s complete trust and respect. Here she was, alone, hunted, and hungry. And she had to think twice before asking for food.

  The strong aroma of a homemade meal reached her again, and her belly growled. The place was quiet, so she assumed it was her and the woman alone in the house. What was the name the girl had called her? She scrambled her brain to remember. “Mrs. Black, may I have some food?”

  “Of course, sweetie. You can,” Mrs. Black answered from the adjacent room. “I’ll have
someone bring you some Christmas Day leftovers. I think that’s what they’re heating up in the kitchen.”

  Julia inhaled deeply. “What day is it?”

  “Two days after Christmas. Why?”

  “I turned eighteen on Christmas Eve.” And for the first time, her mom wasn’t there. Mrs. Black’s “happy birthday” served as a painful reminder of her family’s absence. The pain that pierced through her heart was more than the one assailing her body. Pain caused by love she didn’t appreciate and no longer had access to. Lord Jesus, I’m sorry for everything I took for granted. All of it. And all the times I was jealous of my mom’s focus on Your church. Her walk toward gratitude began now. Thank You, God, for saving my life. “Thank you, Mrs. Black, for rescuing me. And for treating me and housing me. I’m very grateful.”

  The woman’s face hovered over hers with a smile that could thaw ice. “I’m thanking God you didn’t die on me, sweetie. This aging heart can only take so much shock. It’s Jesus you should thank. He led you to safety. Do you know Jesus?”

  “I’m not sure. And you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Try me, child.”

  Julia swallowed hard. It was going to be a long story—after she ate. A very long one.

  Chapter Fifteen

  And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. John 1:5

  * * *

  When Asia came to, she felt a lull. Rocked side to side, she recalled the events that had occurred with a shocking realization, then jerked to a seated position. The dank smell smothering her nostrils caused a sneeze. She gripped the sides of a bed, but she was as sure that she wasn’t on vacation as she was sure that she was on a ship.

  Her sister came to her mind, and worry set in. Latricia hadn’t woken up. She was asleep when Asia had left the hotel. Asia had assumed she’d be calling her as soon as they were done checking out the market. Instead, she had only not made it back to the hotel but had also been captured and had no idea where she was except that she was floating on a sea vessel.

  A sob drew her attention, and she turned to her side. A girl—thin and scantily clad—wept.

  Asia tried to move, but something clinked and held her back. She’d been chained to the bed. “Just great.” She turned to the girl again. “Where are we? Who are you?”

  “Overnight on a ship.” The girl sobbed harder, her shoulders shaking.

  Asia bit her tongue. “I’m a professional who searches for missing persons. Please tell me where we are.”

  The girl’s sobs paused. She lifted a teary gaze and sniffled, clutching her thin blanket closer. “Really? What’s your name?”

  Another girl spoke in Spanish from the bed behind hers, and Asia looked behind her and gasped. At least a dozen other girls were squatting on the floor, lying on mats, or sitting on drums behind them. “They’re human trafficking victims,” she muttered under her breath.

  The door opened, and an armed man stepped in. “If you want to go to the toilet, go one at a time. If you stay too long, I shoot. No questions.” He let someone through who threw or shoved some dried bread and canned tuna at each of them, depending on how close or far the person was. She imagined using the cans as weapons except…the men had guns. It would pose a higher risk—for her and the girls—than cooperating. For now.

  Asia took the bread thrown to her bed and stared at it while thinking of how to get word to Ramirez and his team—and her sister.

  He’d know she was missing by now. Finding her would be the issue. The man passed and eyed her before returning to the door and slamming it behind him. Nothing on him gave her a clue on his identity. Sighing inwardly, she fumbled with her bread, an awkward feat while chained to a bed. She was hungry, but this dry ration was hardly food.

  Setting it aside, she saw the girl she’d talked to staring. “Hey.”

  The girl darted her gaze both ways, then leaned over. “Are you really who you say you are?”

  Asia nodded.

  “They’ll kill you.”

  Well, that wasn’t what she was hoping to hear. “Not if you don’t tell them. Where are we, honey?”

  Clutching her bread with one hand, her tuna can in her lap, the girl shook her head. “Mexico.”

  “I know. Where are we now? Did you see the name of this ship? Who put us in it? Did you catch any names?”

  She rubbed her eyes and shuddered. “I didn’t. They tied our eyes. Sorry.”

  “You mean, they used blindfolds?”

  The girl lowered the hand she’d used to cover her own eyes. “Yes.”

  She looked so frail, grasping onto that bread as if it were a great delicacy. How long had she been captive? Asia’s chest constricted. These were the girls she’d dedicated her life to saving. Now she was… Had she now become one of them? Would she need someone to save her? Again? No. She wouldn’t think like that. She would focus. “You speak like an American. Are you?”

  “I’m the only American, I think.”

  “Was anyone else with you?” Asia asked, hoping she’d find information about the girls she sought. She didn’t have their images, or she would’ve shown her. “I’m looking for two missing girls.”

  “Is Julia one of them?”

  “Who’s Julia?”

  “Forget it then.”

  “No, tell me about Julia.” It didn’t matter if she didn’t know who Julia was. She was gaining information, and she’d not miss that. “Was she taken with you?”

  “Not really. She joined us. I wasn’t sure if they sent her to Mexico with us.”

  “You mean in the US?”

  She nodded.

  “So this Julia was kept with you in the US, but you’re not sure if she made it to Mexico?”

  She darted her gaze again. Then she dug inside her woolen sweater, loosened a piece of rope, and untied its knot. She peeled a flattened bag off herself and threw it to Asia’s bed. “They’re her clothes. One of the guys holding us said I should get it to someone who can get it to her family. Maybe you can if I don’t make it out of this.”

  Might she dare to hope God would get them out of this one? She took a chance. Jesus, please rescue me and these girls. I know I don’t know You like that, and I have no right to ask for anything. But, if You would, please grant me the freedom I desire for me and these girls. In Your name, amen.

  This sounded like how she’d heard others pray, so she hoped she’d done it right.

  Nibbling an edge of her bread, holding it in both hands as if she feared someone would try to snatch it from her, the girl eyed her. “Why are you silent?”

  Asia smiled. “I prayed.”

  “Oh.” The girl lowered her hands to her lap, a sad smile curving her lips. Her tongue sneaked out and licked at crumbs. “Julia didn’t pray, but the other girl prayed. She was taken too, but I don’t know where to.”

  “That’s okay. Please describe Julia.” Asia listened as the girl did her best putting a face to the name and clothes Asia now carried. She was holding evidence, even if the girl didn’t know. “Thank you,” Asia said, memorizing the girl’s words while she tore out the hem of her shirt and used it as a rope to secure the bag to her body, just as the girl had done.

  “Who gave you her clothes? Do you have their name?”

  “I don’t, no. He, um…” She paused. “He’s dead.”

  When the door opened, Asia glanced up. The detail the girl had provided about the man’s death shocked her. But she couldn’t afford time for surprise. The man who’d come earlier entered along with other armed men.

  He unlocked the girls who were on beds, then her, and herded them out—without their food. Those who hadn’t eaten already left it behind. They emerged and walked along the hallway. When she tried to see out the tiny spaces in the window where newspapers failed to cover, she sighted land afar off. Were they still in Mexico? She wasn’t sure, as the sun was setting. It had risen when she’d gone to the market.

  “Stop.” The man’s order drew her back to the present.
He led them into a large room and set them on the ground. “Stay here and don’t move.”

  Then he left, taking the other armed men—except one short man—with him. That man stood guarding the door in his camouflage fatigues. Even with the scruff on his face, he didn’t look a day over thirty-five.

  Asia counted off. Six girls plus her, making seven.

  The girl who’d given her the clothes stood at the window. Asia wished she could tell her to look and see if she could spot something. But she didn’t want to draw any attention, especially not when evidence had been committed into her hand. She had to live to get the information back to the free world.

  Asia gulped down the memory of when she’d been taken years ago and had sworn it would never happen again. Now, here she was again. Tears threatened, but she kept them at bay. Choosing instead to look for a way out, she surveyed the bare room. Most of the things in the room were moved out of their reach. Asia prayed again, wondering whether God would answer her this time. Once should be enough for her for a lifetime. Right?

  A half hour later, the door opened. They were herded out. This time, they were led to board a small boat. Unsure where they were or where they were going, but carrying evidence, she didn’t want to draw attention through any overreaction. They climbed into the speedboat, and it sped off toward an island, while the ship carrying the other girls headed in a different direction.

  Something glinted afar off. At first, she didn’t pay attention. Soon, they reached the island and were taken out of the boat.

  Something glinted again in the distance. She shielded her eyes. Yes, it was a vessel some distance away. It seemed to be idling. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Then it glinted again, and this time, Asia knew. She was being signaled. Ramirez and his team were hot on their trail.