by Kariss Lynch
The faintest hint of distrust colored her eyes, and he wished he’d begun with a more graceful opening.
“The way Micah and I brought you home from Haiti wasn’t right or fair. We were terrified your leg was infected because of how sick you were, but that’s no excuse. I’ve talked to Rhonda and Abraham, and I think you need to go back to Haiti.”
Her face went stony. “You, of all people, should know better than to say that.” She tried to stand, but he caught her arms and held her in place, willing her to look and listen.
“Kayles, I know that place ripped you apart.” He ran his thumb over the small scar above her eye. “I also know how much you loved it, and how much Sarah Beth loved it. I think it would give you perspective to go back, maybe see the hope you are desperately denying. Abe said things are happening, people are changing. I think you need to go see for yourself how God can work wonders in the midst of the rubble of our lives.”
“What if there’s another earthquake? What if more of my friends died? I can’t, Nick, I just can’t. Sarah Beth’s mom already asked me to go, and I’ve thought about, and I don’t think I could bear it.”
“Think about it, babe. Pray about it. I think it would be good for you.”
“I haven’t really prayed in months. Not like I did in the auditorium.”
Nick almost asked her to repeat the whispered words. “Then maybe it’s time to start. You lived for a reason, Kaylan Lee Richards. Don’t waste it. Talk to that God who dug you out of the rubble. There’s your first indication of good in the midst of this. You aren’t finished yet.” He wouldn’t back down on this. She needed to hear. It was time to put things back in order, time to remember the beauty in the midst of brokenness.
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“I’m nothing if not persistent. And I would never do this if I thought you couldn’t handle it. I really feel like the Lord placed this on my heart before I left, but the time wasn’t right to bring it up. Now it is.”
She gazed at the lake, and Nick prayed, gripping her hands to bring reassurance. She didn’t look at him, but he heard the soft words: “Will you go with me? As soon as you can get another leave?”
He thought of his assignment with Janus. He was headed back to his team in the morning. They would train harder than before because a killer was loose, armed, and deadly, and his team had been given the task of taking her out. He wished he knew when they could go to Haiti, but he didn’t know when new intel would come and he would have to disappear again. Yet he had to figure something out, because to ask her to face her biggest fear and pain was unacceptable unless he was present to help her through it.
“I’ll be there. I won’t let you down.” It was his promise, the promise of a SEAL who never left a teammate behind.
Her hands shook as she nodded, and he prayed she wouldn’t fall apart. He watched her silent struggle and recognized the moment she found her strength. Her shoulders straightened, and her eyes met his, clearer than they’d been in months. “I guess we’re going back to Haiti.”
Some way, somehow, he would be there for her. He prayed that the timing would line up.
PART FOUR
Chapter Forty
NOTHING HAD MOVED. Little breathed. It was as if she’d never left. Haiti in the heat of July was a shadow of the colorful place it had once been. Street painters didn’t greet her. Tents suffocated open land and streets. Little seemed to have changed in six months, and Kaylan felt defeated. The heat and humidity suffocated her, and she struggled to draw a deep breath.
Black hands encircled Kaylan, Nick, and the Tuckers. She changed her mind. One thing had changed: there were even more desperate people.
“Food.”
“Money.”
“Hungry.”
The Creole voices threatened to break her heart. She hadn’t brought money on purpose, but she reached into her bag and placed candy into groping hands. She slowly made her way up the rubble-filled street to Rhonda’s clinic. Shops remained closed, buildings crumbled and uninhabited, churches devoid of bells or people. Rubble resided where people once lived. It was as Kaylan had suspected: hopeless.
“Kaylan, you came! Welcome back to Haiti, my friend. So good to see you on your feet.” Abraham walked forward and wrapped her in a hug. She did her best to muster a smile.
“You look well, Abe.”
“I feel well. Even better, now that you are here. Come, see what we are doing.”
The sheets that had sheltered victims of the quake were gone. The clinic resembled a lighthouse welcoming the hurt and downtrodden of Port-au-Prince. Women waited in chairs in the small room while children played on the floor. A few elderly people sat in one corner, engaged in animated conversation. The broken did not inhabit the room, but rather those receiving healing.
Kaylan shook her head, confused. She had expected something similar to what she had left. Whereas the outside showed scars of the quake, the people no longer resembled ghosts of the living. They lived.
Rhonda emerged from a back room, carrying one of the children. The child laughed as Rhonda handed him a lollipop and allowed him to run to his mother. Waiting to be noticed, Kaylan felt a pang as she remembered Reuben. Nick stood quietly at her side, her rock.
Rhonda looked up, her professional demeanor vanishing as she smiled. “Kaylan!” They met in a tight embrace that spoke of love and loss and survival.
“Hey, Rhonda. Looks like you’re pretty busy today.”
“All in a day’s work. I have lots of help right now.” She led Nick and Kaylan to the back room, and Kaylan stopped short when Yanick turned to face her from the supply cabinet, a beautiful baby tied to her back.
“Kay-lin, welcome home.” Again, Kaylan was engulfed in a hug, and her confusion doubled. She felt as if she were on the receiving end of a gigantic joke. How could these people smile and welcome her home? Had they been outside lately? Did they not see that their home was still rubble, and no one seemed to care? Haiti had been forgotten in the six months after the earthquake, but work was far from over.
Rhonda cooed at the baby before smiling at Kaylan again. “I’m training Yanick to be my helper. She continues the weekly meetings with the moms in your absence. Now, more than ever, these mothers need help knowing how to care for their families. I’ve taught her to sew and cook. She teaches the other women. It’s the first step in helping them make money for their families. They get off the streets and into their homes making purses, skirts, scarves, and T-shirts. We even set up a website.”
Yanick held out a scarf to Kaylan. The purple, red, orange, and yellow threads intertwined, adding a splash of color to the Haiti of Kaylan’s memory. “Lespwa, Kaylan. For Tasha. For Sarah Beth. For you.”
Kaylan looked to Rhonda.
“They named their business Lespwa, hope, because you and Sarah Beth cared enough to teach them.” Rhonda squeezed Kaylan’s hand. “You changed lives, Kaylan. Sarah Beth changed lives. One at a time.”
“I don’t understand. Does this actually work? People can’t afford anything here. How are these women making money? Rhonda, this isn’t a good idea. They’ll become depressed when this doesn’t work.”
“What happened to the girl who wanted to change Haiti?”
“What happened to the woman who said I couldn’t?”
“I never, ever doubted you could. I simply told you to focus on one person at a time. You did that. You may have left, but you’re still making a difference, and these people thank God for you and Sarah Beth every day.”
“The slums have grown. People live in tents. Sarah Beth is gone. What is there to thank me for?”
“They live, Kaylan. They are gaining the ability to work and take care of their families. They have life.” Rhonda looked from Kaylan to Nick. “Kaylan, what happened to you?”
“The earth shook more than my body. My best friend died, and this country will never be the same. How can you have this hope?”
“Hope.” Yanick grabbed
Kaylan and Nick’s hands and dragged them to the door. “Come. See.”
Kaylan looked back at Rhonda.
“Open your eyes, Kaylan. The Haitians are like ants whose mound has been crushed. They rebuild, slowly but surely. Look. See. Believe. And remember.”
After visiting the clinic, they had continued the tour of the neighborhood, Kaylan pointing out old sites. Not much had changed. She headed toward the church, anxious to see if it was rebuilt. Men shouted in Creole, and Kaylan heard a loud crack. She ducked, angry for being so skittish.
“It’s just shifting rock, babe. Everything’s fine.”
Nick held her hand, and again Kaylan was thankful for his presence. “Have I told you thanks today?”
“For what?”
“For coming. For being with me.”
“I can think of a better way to tell me thank you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Kaylan leaned forward and kissed him, thankful for something comfortable and familiar. “Thanks,” she whispered against his lips as another crack split the air.
As the church site came into view, Yanick spotted them and pulled them forward to meet her husband, Rolin, with Abraham stepping in to translate. Kaylan studied the area for the first time. The small structure had completely collapsed in the quake, burying the pastor beneath its walls. Men crawled over the wreckage, shifting rock and clearing the area.
“What’s happening?”
Rolin spoke first. His face glistened with sweat, and his smile spread. He opened his arms and gestured to the work behind him. Kaylan loved the Creole tones.
Abraham translated. “This is the project Rolin began with some of the men. He says that Haitians must have a place to worship the Lord and thank Him for life. Every day a new man joins the team.”
Kaylan recognized many men from Cité Soleil. “Abe,” she whispered, “aren’t some of these men, well, dangerous? They were part of the gangs in the slums the last time I was there.”
“Who better to reach the slums of the earth but those who live in them? They are all new believers, thanks to Rolin. The man does not give up.”
Hearing his name, Rolin spoke again. Again Abraham translated. “He says to thank you. He owes you the life of his child and his wife. Someday his son will know the Jesus you and Sarah Beth spoke of. One day he will know a better Haiti. And one day he will worship here . . . ” A smile lit Abe’s face. “Where I have been elected pastor. Can you believe it, Kaylan?” The child in Abe broke through, and Kaylan truly smiled for the first time.
“That’s great, Abe. I’m proud of you. And of this. I can’t believe it.”
“There is one more surprise.” He whistled, and a teen stopped his work. He shaded his eyes, and Kaylan squinted to make out his features. White teeth cracked his face, and he shouted.
Within seconds Stevenson landed in front of Kaylan and reached for her hand. He opened her palms and placed a finger in the center, smiling at her the whole time.
“I met the palm reader Jesus. I am His palm reader now.”
Kaylan looked at Nick in awe. His eyes sparkled at her joy.
“Stevenson, I can’t believe it. How? When?”
The youth pointed to Abraham, who explained. “After you left, Stevenson went back to Eliezer. He tried to convince him that Rhonda was making a difference and helping. But Eliezer told Stevenson to steal food from Rhonda for the two of them. It was as if Stevenson’s eyes opened for the first time. But he refused. When he came to me, I told him more about Jesus. He never looked back. Several who followed Eliezer are now here, helping Stevenson and myself tell the people the hope that is in Jesus Christ.”
“How, Abe? How do you still have that hope?”
“God never left Haiti, Kaylan. He shook me, and I grew stronger. Many died, but more now live life for Jesus as a result of what they saw and experienced. I do not know how better to explain. There is a vein of hope that runs through Haiti. One day the world will see it.”
Chapter Forty-One
NICK WIPED SWEAT off his brow and took the drink offered by Kaylan.
“Sweat looks good on you, soldier.”
“Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you.”
Kaylan, Nick, and the Tuckers toiled over the church, making it a labor of love for Sarah Beth and the people of Haiti. Little food existed for the inhabitants of the city, but what little was present was shared with their American band. Nick was honored. He could see why Kaylan had fallen in love with these people. These men and women had weathered an earthquake and, although shaken, stood tall. Hope wasn’t an elusive concept but a present reality, and they clung to it as if it were food and water.
His phone rang. Nick dropped the cement block he was carrying to fish out his cell. Seeing the number, he moved away from Kaylan before answering. “Hey, Bulldog.”
“Hawk, how’s she doing?”
Nick studied Kaylan as she distributed water bottles. Her smile was lighter, and the circles under her eyes continued to fade; she was active and aiding a cause she was intimately linked to. “Better. She’s getting there.”
“I hope you were right about this trip.”
“I was right. But something tells me that isn’t why you called. What’s up?”
“Janus is back. Made a reappearance in Ukraine before slipping her shadow. She’s good, Hawk. One of the best I’ve seen.”
“We’re better.”
“We’ll have to be. That’s why I’m calling. X wants everyone back, stat. Time to catch ourselves a killer.”
Nick could almost taste the desire. This woman didn’t think twice about whom she hurt or the clients to whom she sold weapons. She was cold-blooded, a viper, and she must be stopped before another 9/11 landed on their hands. Nick needed to do his job, but he worried what Kaylan would have to say. They had a lot to talk through.
“I’ll be there in the next forty-eight hours. Can you hold down the fort until I get back?”
“You got it. Take care of my sister.”
“Always. Hey, man, be praying for tomorrow. We’re visiting Sarah Beth’s grave, and I’m not sure how she’s going to hold up. Pray we don’t have a relapse into the Kaylan of the past couple of months.”
“You got it.”
Nick closed his phone and took another swig from his water bottle. Children flocked around Kaylan, including little Sophia. Nick couldn’t thank that child enough for finding someone to dig Kaylan out.
Kaylan was holding up well, even thriving. She had accepted the internship in San Diego to be closer to him. After it was over, she planned to become a dietician for a natural disaster relief organization based in California. Having been a survivor of one of the worst earthquakes of the Western world, she understood the challenges of a crisis and had a passion to help others survive the trauma.
Despite her plans and the strides they’d made in their relationship, he knew the hurdles ahead were daunting. She would need to learn how to trust God with Nick when Nick entered deadly situations. He knew the sacrifice he was asking of her. He had lived through it himself when he hadn’t known whether she was dead or alive.
Nick tensed, unsure what had set him on guard. He surveyed the men around him. Each had stopped work and stood with his shovel ready. Quiet, strong, they resembled statues that had survived an onslaught and were preparing for another. Kaylan glanced up and paled, her eyes looking beyond him. Nick turned, his fists balled, braced to face whatever had upset her.
Kaylan shuddered and almost dropped the box of water bottles. A man strode at the head of a mob. Tall, bald, commanding, his eyes were those of the living dead—Eliezer. Surly teens drifted behind him, their features chiseled in stone, hardened by life in the slum, brainwashed by a man who promised power and the riddance of the white man.
Kaylan tensed and turned to the children. “Run to your mothers. We can play later.” She jerked as a hand grabbed hers before recognizing Nick’s touch. Her breath caught in the oppressive humidity, and she fought the panic rising in her
heart.
“Eliezer?”
“I didn’t want to see him, Nick. I didn’t want to see him.”
“It’s fine, babe. Maybe he just wants to see what we’re up to.”
“You don’t understand. Eliezer has studied the history of Haiti. He still believes white people only cause havoc in his country. The only way for the people of Haiti to have a better life is to do what the slaves did long ago, rid their country of white influence.”
The men had moved from the rubble pile and now stood around Nick and Kaylan. Ex-gang members gripped shovels tightly, and Kaylan worried that more Haitian blood was about to be spilled. Fear of this man was irrational, but Kaylan was more worried about what he intended to do to the men working than what he could do to her.
Lord, help.
Eliezer appeared calm, almost regal, but the men behind him shifted and clenched their fists. Kaylan was thankful they hadn’t brought guns onto the streets. Dusk was hardly the time to attack this far from their territory. They were unsure and angry, the remnant of one of the slum gangs. She searched their eyes for understanding or compassion. Hatred boiled in their depths, though she wasn’t sure if it was part of their nature or if they despised her.
“You are not welcome here, Kaylan Richards. Why did you return?”
Nick stepped in front of Kaylan, and she gripped his arm. “Eliezer, I’m glad to see you are no longer in pain. Did Rhonda help you?”
His eye twitched, and the scar along the side of his face tightened. “I did not seek her help, nor did I want it. You should not have come back.” He gestured to the devastation around him. “As I have told you, this is your fault. You and your God. You should never have come to Haiti, and your return is unwelcome. Go home, and take your God with you. He has only brought pain to us.”
“Eliezer, my God isn’t one who inflicts pain. Se jezu sel ki kon geri —it’s only Jesus who can heal. And He came to heal you and me and Haiti and America because He knew we are helpless and hopeless without Him. He loves us.” She pleaded with him to understand.
