by E. A. West
In an attempt to lighten his mood and hopefully distract her from further discussion of her going home, he guided her toward a food stand with brightly colored tables beneath a corrugated metal roof. “Are you hungry?”
“Starved. It was a long walk to get here, and breakfast was quite a while ago.” She scanned the people seated at some of the tables. “Do they have good food here?”
“They did the last time I was here.” He took her to the counter and scanned the handwritten menu tacked to one of the posts supporting the roof. “What would you like?”
She studied the menu for a moment then laughed lightly. “I don’t have a clue what most of that is. Why don’t you order for me? I trust you to pick something good.”
“All right.” He turned toward the middle-aged woman behind the counter and quickly placed their order.
Kayla spoke to Mateo as she watched the woman gather their lunch. “OK, I caught part of what you said. We’re having tamales and...chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate, yes.” He chuckled as her eyebrows lifted. “Trust me, it is more common than you might think to have tamales y chocolate.”
“Well, I did say I trust you,” Kayla said as the woman placed two plates holding banana-leaf-wrapped tamales and two cups of creamy hot chocolate on the counter.
He paid for their meal, and they found seats at an empty table. Kayla watched closely as he unwrapped his tamale, and he wondered if she’d ever had one before. Hopefully she would enjoy it as much as he would. She cut a small bite from her tamale and lifted the fork, hesitating only slightly before placing it in her mouth. A smile curved her lips as she chewed, and Mateo heaved a mental sigh of relief that she appeared to like his choice for lunch.
After taking a sip of hot chocolate, she reached across the table and touched his arm. “This is delicious. Forgive my earlier doubts about the combination.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said with a shrug. “Different cultures have different foods.”
“True. Of course, after all the Colombian cuisine I’ve eaten in the last two weeks, I don’t know whether I’ll be glad to get back to American food or sorry I won’t be eating Maria’s wonderful meals any longer.”
“Perhaps it will be a little of both.”
“Most likely.” They ate quietly for a few minutes, and then she said, “You know, you should come to the U.S. at some point.”
“What?” For a moment, he couldn’t think. He hadn’t considered going to the United States because he felt certain God wanted him in Colombia. Why would she suggest he go against what he knew was God’s plan for his life?
“It would be fun to let you take a look at what my life is like since I’ve been sharing in yours for a couple of weeks.” She reached over and grasped his hand. “Besides, it could be a while before I can come back here, and I’m going to miss you.”
“Kayla, I don’t know if the American government will allow me into your country.” It broke his heart, but he had to tell her. He leaned forward to keep his words from traveling to nearby diners. “I fought with the rebels. Your country may not grant me a visa because of it.”
“But that was years ago, and you’re out of it now. You’re a missionary to street kids. You work to keep them from joining the rebels.”
“I know, but governments are not always so willing to forgive as God is.” He gave her a sad smile and rubbed her fingers. “I have not contacted the American consulate yet to find out if I would be allowed to visit. Perhaps my work with the mission will prove to them that I am a changed man who follows the laws and respects the government.”
“I’m sure it will. We’ll just have to pray that you can get a visa. If all else fails, we can ask my dad to help. He knows several politicians.”
Mateo shifted the conversation during the rest of the meal to more mundane topics, such as the scenery and the completed children’s home. Despite Kayla’s confidence in her government’s ability to see that he was no longer involved with the FARC, he couldn’t deny the worry eating away at him that he might never be eligible for a visitor visa, let alone immigration if God chose to send him in that direction. Of course, if it was in God’s plan for him to go to the United States, he knew that his previous association with the rebels wouldn’t stand in the way.
****
As they waited in line for the cable car, the teleférico, Kayla wished she could lighten Mateo’s mood. He put forth a wonderful effort to appear relaxed and happy, but ever since he mentioned his worries about whether he could get a visa there had been an undercurrent of sadness. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to convince him he would be allowed into the United States. As much as she hoped the government would look at his life since being abandoned by the FARC, she couldn’t guarantee they would forgive his association with the rebels.
They followed several other people onto the car, and it soon started its descent. Kayla took in the view, suddenly realizing just how high they were. Looking out the windows and seeing treetops pass below was disconcerting.
“Relax,” Mateo said, smiling when she glanced at him. “We are perfectly safe in here.”
“I know. It’s just a bit unnerving to feel like we’re floating down the mountainside.”
He stepped behind her and wrapped her in a warm embrace. “Focus on the beauty of the view across the city, not the trees below us.”
“You’re making it much easier to do that.” She leaned back against his solid chest, enjoying the protective feel to his strong arms around her. Watching the city below grow closer, she whispered what she had been thinking for the last few days. “I don’t want to leave you, Mateo.”
He remained silent for the rest of the trip, but he held her closer and rested his chin on her shoulder. She could tell he didn’t want her to leave, either, but they were both well aware she had no choice but to go home for the moment. If he asked her to stay or to come back to Bogotá, she would gladly move. But he hadn’t said a word about it other than he would teach her Spanish if she ever came back.
Uncertainty struck as they left the teleférico station and headed down the sidewalk. Despite his assurances that he would miss her when she went home, he gave no indication that he wanted her to come back. And were his concerns about his ability to get a visa for traveling to the U.S. as great as he’d implied, or was it an excuse to avoid having to visit her?
Father, take these doubts from me. I know the situation is as difficult for him as it is for me. Please help me to trust what I feel in my heart is true, that Mateo will do anything he can to ensure our relationship doesn’t wither away after I go home.
They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the city and avoiding discussions of her departure and their future. Even though they didn’t talk about it, Kayla couldn’t deny that it hung over them like a dark cloud, waiting to rain on them and douse the vague dreams of family already developing.
As they walked back to the mission from the bus station, Mateo took Kayla’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Her heart lifted at the affectionate gesture.
“I know you don’t want to leave,” he said quietly, keeping his gaze away from her. “But I won’t ask you to stay.”
“What?” Her heart plummeted, making her question whether she’d misread everything he’d said and done during their short relationship. “But I thought you wanted a relationship to work between us as much as I do.”
“I do, but I can’t ask you to move here, and this is where I belong.” He finally glanced at her, and she could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke. “Kayla, you deserve a better life than I can give you. What you have seen in the last two weeks is what every day of my life is like. Sometimes it’s worse than what you have seen. That is no life for a woman like you.”
“Mateo, the location isn’t what matters. If a life together is what God intends for us, and we both feel it is, then all that matters is being together. If we live in poverty or wealth, surrounded by street children or rich kids, doesn�
��t matter. Like you, I will go wherever God tells me to go, no matter where it is or what kind of life it is.”
“I want better for you than I can ever give you.” He stopped and cupped her cheek with a callused hand. “Do you really think your father would approve of a man who fought with what the American government considers a terrorist organization?”
“I’ve told my father about you in emails, and he approves of you. He knows that you are a compassionate man who lives for the Lord.”
“You have told him about my past?” He lowered his hand to his side, and she felt the loss of his touch.
“No, I told him about the man you are now, not who you were as a teenager. Besides, even if he knew about your time with the rebels, he would understand that you had no choice but to fight with them. He will see that you hated the things you were forced to do and know, as I do, that you would have never voluntarily joined them.”
Mateo took her hand again, and they continued on. “I think you place too much faith in your father.”
“I think you don’t place enough faith in yourself.” Kayla blinked back tears. “You’re a good man, Mateo. One any father would be proud to give his daughter to.”
They walked in silence to the dormitory, and he stopped her from going inside. “I won’t ask you to give up your life in the United States for me, Kayla.”
She met his gaze, praying he would see the determination flowing through her. “Maybe that’s not your decision to make. I will do what God wants me to do, even if you think I deserve better or that I would be better off doing something else.”
Without waiting for a reply, she pulled open the door and stepped inside. As she headed for her room, she prayed Mateo would come to his senses and realize she wouldn’t mind coming to live and work in Bogotá as long as she was with him.
9
Mateo dragged himself into the kitchen, hoping Maria would feed him. After Kayla went into the dormitory last night, he’d taken a long walk and prayed for wisdom and guidance. While he hadn’t found any answers, he had made his already sore stump hurt even more. Because of the ache in his leg and the more intense ache in his heart, he had slept late and missed breakfast. He’d also missed taking the Americans to the airport, which was probably just as well. It would have been too painful to watch Kayla board a plane.
Maria turned from stirring a pot on the stove and watched him drop onto a chair at the table. “Did you sleep well?”
“No.” He scrubbed a hand across his face, stubble rasping against his palm. Lowering his hand to his lap, he met Maria’s gaze. “Did they get to the airport all right?”
“Yes, although Kayla and Claudia both missed you terribly.” Maria turned back to the stove. “Would you like something to eat?”
“Yes, please.” His mind didn’t want to grasp what she had said. “Claudia missed me?”
“She went with us to the airport.”
Mateo leaned back in his seat and considered the ramifications of that statement. The young orphan girl had gone to the airport and said goodbye to the woman she’d grown close to...and the man she looked up to hadn’t been there to offer the comfort she’d undoubtedly needed. Mateo could kick himself for wallowing in self-pity instead of being there for the ones he loved.
Maria set a plate holding a fried egg with beans and rice likely leftover from dinner the previous evening in front of him along with a steaming cup of coffee. Then she sat across from him and waited. Mateo said a quick prayer of thanks, but he didn’t pick up his fork. Instead, he looked at the woman he considered his mother.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” Her gaze burned into him, fanning the flames of his guilt.
“I know, but you had to pick up the pieces because I wasn’t there.” He sighed and ate a bite of his breakfast. “Where is Claudia now?”
“Helping some of the volunteers arrange the furniture Kayla’s father sent for the new children’s home.” Maria clasped her hands on the edge of the table. “You need to contact Kayla and apologize to her as well.”
What kind of mess had he created by staying in bed? “Are you sure she wants to hear from me?”
“Yes. She was very disappointed that she didn’t get to see you one last time before she left. She loves you, Mateo. Don’t let her get away.”
He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. With all the things standing in the way of a relationship with Kayla, he wasn’t sure how he could keep her. But hearing from Maria that Kayla loved him, even after he refused to ask her to move to Colombia and then missed seeing her one more time, gave him hope that with God’s help he could find a way.
After he finished eating, Maria sent him to the office where Carlos waited. Mateo couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sent to the office for misbehaving, but he still remembered receiving several lectures from Carlos as a teen. He paused outside the office door and took a deep breath. Whatever Carlos said to him, he deserved it.
He stepped into the office and found his mentor seated behind the desk. Carlos glanced up, his expression somber.
“Close the door and sit down.”
Mateo did as instructed and waited.
Carlos leaned back in his chair and studied Mateo. “I know you are hurting, but avoiding the people you care about is not the way to deal with it. That will only make things worse.”
“Forgive me, Carlos, for making a difficult situation worse.” Mateo sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. “I could make excuses for why I didn’t go to the airport this morning, but none of them will excuse the fact that I hurt two people I care about deeply. As soon as I finish talking to you, I will find Claudia and apologize to her. Apologizing to Kayla will be more difficult, since she’s no longer here. I guess I’ll have to send her an email and hope it will be enough.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that. You know Maria and I will be taking a few of the orphans to the United States to thank the churches that support us and hopefully raise more funds for the mission. We will be visiting Kayla’s church to thank them for their help with the new children’s home.” Carlos leaned forward, his eyes alight. “How would you like to go with us and see Kayla again?”
“I would love to see her again, but I can’t go.” The pain was almost unbearable, but he couldn’t avoid the truth.
“Why not? We can contact the consulate and start the process to get your visa today.”
“They won’t approve me because I fought with the FARC. I am a terrorist in the eyes of the American government.” Mateo stood and paced the small office, the pain in his leg easier to deal with than the pain in his heart. “After everything that has happened to the United States due to terrorism, they won’t let me inside their borders.”
“Sit down, Mateo Luis,” Carlos said. “You are obviously in pain and need to rest your leg.”
Mateo returned to the chair before the desk. The pastor was right, but at the moment he wasn’t sure he cared. Despair threatened to eat him alive. “The only way I will ever see Kayla again is if she comes back here.”
“She talked to me this morning and told me about your conversation last night. She promised to talk to her father to see what he can do to get the U.S. government to grant you a waiver.” Carlos crossed his arms on the desk, his features filled with compassion. “I know you still carry a great deal of guilt for the things you did while you were with the rebels, but you are no longer the same person. For the last ten years, you have been growing into a man of God with a powerful testimony. Your life since coming here is likely to carry a great deal of weight as they consider your visa application.”
A tiny spark of hope emerged through the darkness. Was it possible he could get a visa? He knew Kayla would be thrilled if he showed up on her doorstep. He couldn’t bear to think of how wonderful it would be to see her again and hold her close as he told her she had stolen his heart. Not until he knew for sure he would receive a visa.
Before he could spe
ak, the door creaked open behind him. He turned as Claudia stuck her head into the office.
“Mateo?” The hesitance in the child’s voice nearly destroyed him.
He opened his arms to her. “Come here, Claudia.”
She launched herself into his hug, holding him tightly. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”
He closed his eyes against the stinging moisture then helped her into his lap. “That could never happen, little one. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered, leaning against him. Suddenly, she straightened and held out a white feather. “I want you to have this.”
“Thank you.” He took it and held it aloft as he studied it. “But why are you giving this to me?”
“So you don’t forget Kayla.” Claudia looked him in the eye, determination filling her dark eyes. “I gave Kayla the black feather so she won’t forget us.”
The trip to the park flashed in his mind. He smiled, feeling as though God had finally given him an answer about his relationship with Kayla. “I won’t forget her, just as I know you won’t either.”
Worry crept into her gaze. “Do you think she’ll forget us?”
“No, I think she will always remember us.” A sense of purpose filled Mateo, and he gave the girl another hug. “Why don’t you go help Maria in the kitchen while I finish talking to Carlos? I will come find you as soon as I am done.”
“OK!” Claudia hopped off his lap and left the room as quickly as she had arrived.
Mateo turned to Carlos, turning the feather slowly in his fingers. “You think there is a chance I will be able to get a visa and go to the United States?”
“There is always a chance,” Carlos said.
“Then I must apply for one, but I don’t want Kayla to know in case I am not approved.”
Carlos smiled and stood then came around the desk and clapped a hand to Mateo’s shoulder. “We will pray your application is approved, and we will contact Kayla’s father to see if he can help make it happen.”
For the first time since realizing he deeply cared about Kayla, Mateo felt peace rather than uncertainty as he considered the future. All he had to do was quit fighting where his heart led and trust that God would pave the way for him to be with her.
