Brush of Wings

by Karen Kingsbury

  “It is.” Sami had waves of doubts since asking Lexy to stay. But every time, God reassured her that this was the right thing to do. Through a Bible verse about not growing weary in doing good, and her conversation with Tyler the other night—when he told her he’d never loved her more than now, seeing her help Lexy.

  Today Sami planned to get Lexy set up with online school. She waited until they were done cleaning the apartment and then Sami found her computer.

  She had heard of a program that might work for Lexy. It was through Liberty University Online, and it was interactive—allowing for better communication between students and teachers. Sami was about to look into it when she saw she had new email.

  Sami checked her in-box and noticed the message was from Mary Catherine. Sami’s heart skipped a beat, and again the familiar sense of fear and concern came over her.

  She opened the email and began to read.

  From the beginning, Sami was shocked. Mary Catherine needed a heart transplant? She hadn’t wanted to sit in the apartment and wait so she went to Africa . . . even knowing she might not have long to live? Sami was too afraid to be mad at her friend.

  Reading to the sound of her own racing heart, Sami finished the letter. Bottom line, Mary Catherine desperately needed to come home, but she was very sick. Too sick to travel. Sami carried her laptop to her room and shut the door.

  Immediately she called Marcus.

  He answered on the third ring. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Marcus . . . it’s Mary Catherine.” Sami’s words all ran together. “She’s in trouble.”

  “In what way?” Instantly Marcus sounded frantic. “Sami, tell me everything.”

  Sami rattled off the details of the email, including how Mary Catherine had asked for help, saying she had to find a way home. Just then, Sami remembered something. She had the number for Janie Omer—the coordinator for Mary Catherine’s trip to Africa. She promised to forward everything to Marcus, starting with the email.

  “I’ll need an address, maybe the name of the nearest airport.” Strength filled Marcus’s voice, like he was ready to take charge of the situation.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Marcus didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to go get her.”

  18

  MARCUS WAS TOO WORRIED to be angry at Mary Catherine. He called the airline as soon as he got off the phone with Sami, and ten minutes later he had a flight out later that afternoon. Los Angeles to Amsterdam to Nairobi to Entebbe. Uganda was eleven hours ahead of Los Angeles, so he would arrive in Entebbe tomorrow night.

  His flight left in three hours. Too much time. He packed a single leather backpack with a change of clothes and a few toiletries. What about Mary Catherine? He went to his pantry and searched the shelves. She would be dehydrated and weak, no doubt. He found a few individual packets of a hydration drink and a small container of ketogenic protein powder.

  The last thing Mary Catherine needed was refined carbs. They were bad enough for healthy people—let alone someone fighting an illness or inflammation. He threw the packets into his backpack.

  Before he left his house, Tyler and Sami stopped by and prayed with him. “Call us, please. When you know anything.” Sami hugged him after the prayer. “Tell her we love her, okay?”

  “I will.” He hugged Tyler last. “I haven’t told anyone . . . but I knew God wanted me to go to her. Fly to Africa. I got the shots a while ago.” He shook his head. “The idea seemed crazy.” He paused, still trying to comprehend what was happening. “I asked God for a sign. If He really wanted me to go.”

  “You got your answer.” Tyler took a step back and put his arm around Sami.

  “Yeah.” Marcus opened his car door. “Pray, please. The whole time. It sounds like she’s going to need a miracle.”

  They all agreed about that much.

  Not until he was headed to the airport did he let the reality of the situation hit him. All this time she’d been deathly sick. All this time. Of course everything made sense now.

  This was why she hadn’t wanted a relationship. It was the reason she never wrote back and ran from him as soon as she felt herself falling. She hadn’t wanted to be a burden—not to him or Sami. Probably not even to her parents.

  The whole thing was so sad. She could’ve spared herself this crisis, and all the months of heartache, if only she’d been honest. If she had trusted him with her darkest secret. Mary Catherine, I’m coming for you. Hold on, baby. Please, God, let her hold on.

  Marcus gripped the steering wheel and flexed the muscles in his jaw. Did she really think he would run if he knew the truth? Did she honestly think she’d be a burden to him? If he’d known from the beginning they would’ve prayed for an answer and together with God’s help they would’ve found it.

  He couldn’t wait to see her, to take her in his arms and tell her enough. Enough hiding and pretending and lying. From now on she had to be honest. If he wanted to date a girl with a sick heart, that was his decision. It wasn’t up to her to run from him because she was worried about how he might react. Or how he might suffer.

  Covering up her health had only hurt both of them.

  Marcus stepped on the gas and got to the airport in record time. The entire flight to Amsterdam, he replayed every wonderful time they’d been together. She always had an answer, a reason why she didn’t want to date. Everything made perfect sense now. She wasn’t ready for a relationship. She wasn’t looking for love. She wasn’t the marrying type. She didn’t want the house in the suburbs or the white picket fence.

  Marcus closed his eyes and thought about the last time he saw her. Hadn’t he known she was lying? He had even told her so, right to her face. And even still Mary Catherine simply wouldn’t tell him the truth.

  He tapped his foot. If only the plane could fly faster. Father, I never would’ve left her. You know that. And now . . . please keep her alive, Lord.

  Marcus felt a sense of peace in response. He couldn’t wonder about her reasons all the way to Africa. Mary Catherine cared about him—he was sure of that much. And suddenly he remembered other things that she’d said. How she’d choose him if she were going to choose any man, and how she couldn’t just be his friend. If I was going to love someone . . . it would be you. Those were her words. He would remember them forever.

  She had loved him all this time.

  He took a quick breath and exhaled slowly. He needed to relax. More than that, he needed to pray. God was with him, Marcus could feel His presence. And something else. It made him hold on to hope: The Lord had prompted him to get shots at just the right time. Otherwise he couldn’t take this trip without the risk of getting sick.

  They had rough turbulence landing in Amsterdam, but Marcus wasn’t concerned. He was on a mission, and he believed with everything in him that God would assign him angels to get him to the orphanage in Uganda, if that’s what it took.

  He slept on the flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi, and prayed from Nairobi to Entebbe. By then he’d practically memorized Mary Catherine’s email to Sami. He read it on his phone every hour or so, searching for clues. How sick was she? And why was she finally telling them the truth? Did someone in Africa change her mind?

  With so many flights, the odds were high that Marcus would experience a delay. But that didn’t happen until they landed in Entebbe. Another plane was in their spot, so for ten minutes Marcus and the other passengers sat on the tarmac.

  Father, she needs me . . . please get this plane to the gate. Whatever it takes.

  A few minutes later the plane began to move. As they deplaned Marcus saw a few mechanics talking, walking away from the gate. Marcus made eye contact with one of the men and he stopped for half a second. There was something familiar about him. Where had he seen the guy before?

  Marcus let the thought go.

  He hurried through the small airport, boarded a shuttle bus out front, and took it to a car rental agency a mile away. He’d talked to Janie on the layover from Amsterd
am to Nairobi. The drive to the orphanage would take an hour and he’d definitely need a Jeep. Some of the roads weren’t passable any other way.

  Marcus was first off the bus. He ran into the building and up to the man behind the counter. “I need a Jeep. As quickly as I can get it.” Help her hold on, God . . . Please, help her. He was almost there, almost to her side.

  But the man shook his head. “Sorry. I rented my last Jeep an hour ago.”

  This couldn’t be happening. Marcus felt the blood drain from his face. “When will you have another one?”

  “One day. Maybe three days.” The man pointed to a laminated piece of paper with other, smaller vehicles. “This may help?”

  Marcus shook his head. “No, thank you.” He walked to the window and stared at the sky. He would walk to her if it took that. But he couldn’t carry her all the way back to the airport from the orphanage. It was a thirty-mile, difficult drive.

  “I’m desperate, God.” Marcus whispered the prayer against the filmy glass. “I need a Jeep. Please, Lord . . . I don’t know what else to do.”

  Marcus was used to being in control. He didn’t drink or do drugs, and he always knew what pitch to throw. Lately he’d even been memorizing Scripture so he’d always have the right verse at the right time. But here, he was completely out of options.

  He needed a Jeep.

  Mary Catherine’s life depended on it.

  BECK FOUND THE broken-down Jeep next to a Dumpster behind the rental agency. With supernatural speed and dexterity, Beck fixed the old Jeep in a few minutes and drove it to the back door of the office.

  Beck wore coveralls, the type used by most mechanics. Same ones he wore earlier at the airport. He stuffed a grease rag in one of his pockets and with a brisk pace he walked through the back door of the office, holding the keys.

  The man behind the counter spun around, surprised.

  “Got a Jeep ready. Heard you had a customer looking?” Beck spotted Marcus over by the window.

  “What?” At the sound of Beck’s message, Marcus hurried back to the counter. Again Beck and Marcus made eye contact. Beck expected Marcus might recognize him, especially after the brief encounter at the airport. But Marcus was too distracted. Too anxious to get in the Jeep and drive to Mary Catherine.

  The man behind the counter was still confused. He took the keys from Beck and then furrowed his brow. “What Jeep is this?”

  “The one out back. Behind the garage.”

  Disbelief played out on the man’s face. He shook his head. “That car was broken. We planned to sell it for parts.”

  “It works.” Beck took a step back.

  “Who are you? I have never seen you before.” The man behind the counter looked borderline angry. “You pulling a joke on me, man?”

  “This isn’t a joke.” Beck stayed calm. “I used the transcode vector and fixed the one out back.” He nodded to Marcus. “I think the customer’s in a hurry.”

  The man finally gave up trying to make sense of the situation. As soon as he shifted his attention to Marcus, Beck slipped out the back and disappeared.

  Mary Catherine still might not make it. There were no guarantees, as Ember had reminded them. But at least now Marcus had a Jeep. A way to get to the orphanage in a hurry.

  And a way to get Mary Catherine out.

  19

  BY THE TIME MARCUS pulled up to the orphanage gate, he felt like he’d been driving for a week. The road was worse than Janie described. He had to drive through streams and deep holes and areas that looked too narrow to cross.

  But none of that mattered. He was here.

  He used the gate code to enter the compound, and once he was parked, he ran into the building. A redheaded girl with pale skin was waiting for him. If he didn’t know better he would’ve thought she was Mary Catherine’s sister.

  The woman held out her hand. “Marcus.” She nodded. “I’m Ember. Follow me.”

  Marcus could sense the woman’s urgency. The two of them walked through a kitchen to a living area, and there on the couch was Mary Catherine. She was asleep, covered with a blanket. Even before he reached her Marcus could see how much weight she’d lost. Her skin looked gray and she was shivering.

  “She’s cold?” The afternoon was blazing hot outside, and not much cooler inside.

  “She has a high fever.” Ember took a wet cloth from a bowl of water on a nearby table. She wrung it out and handed it to Marcus. “Use this. It helps keep her body cool.”

  “But she’s already cold.” Marcus felt desperate. Panic choked him, and he struggled to focus. Mary Catherine looked like she was barely clinging to life.

  “Feel her head.” Ember stood by, waiting.

  Marcus put his hand on her forehead. Ember was right. Mary Catherine was burning up. His stomach felt sick. He knew she was bad off, but he had no idea she was this sick. He turned to Ember again. “I know about her heart . . . but what else?”

  “She has an infection. It’s throughout her body.” Ember looked at Mary Catherine. “I gave her more medication half an hour ago. Her fever should break, at least for a while. She’ll wake up then.” Ember paused. “The local hospital isn’t equipped for something this serious. So I took care of her here.”

  Marcus felt the sweat on his own forehead. Adrenaline flooded his body. “I need to get her home.”

  “Yes.” Ember’s voice was kind but laced with deep concern. “As soon as possible.”

  Marcus had pictured simply getting Mary Catherine and hurrying back to the airport. This newest revelation, seeing her this way, was devastating.

  He took the damp cloth and knelt by Mary Catherine’s side. He laid it gently across her forehead and then he ran his hands along her arms. The heat from her skin was unlike anything he’d felt before. He removed the cloth and dipped it in the cool water again, wrung it out, and ran it over her arms before placing it back on her forehead. Anything to stop her intense shivering.

  “Hey.” He brought his face close to hers. “Mary Catherine, it’s me. Marcus. I’m taking you home.”

  A weak moan came from her and she turned slightly onto her side, facing him. The wheezing she made with every breath sounded terrible. How was she getting any oxygen into her system if her lungs were that sick?

  “Mary Catherine.” He kissed her cheek. “Can you hear me?”

  Like she was coming out of a coma, Mary Catherine blinked a few times and opened her eyes just a bit. She looked at him and after a few seconds, as she gradually woke up, she gasped. “Marcus.” Just saying his name seemed to take all her strength. Her eyes closed again. “You’re here.”

  “I am.” He flipped the cloth so the cooler side would be against her skin. “I came as soon as I heard about your heart.” He had a dozen questions for her, but they would have to wait. The only thing that mattered now was getting her out of here. “I’m taking you home.”

  Mary Catherine managed a slight nod. “Okay.”

  “You’re going to get better.” Marcus ran his thumb along her burning cheek. “The medicine is working.”

  Another weak nod, and over the next ten minutes, Mary Catherine stopped shivering. Her breathing still sounded awful, but Marcus was pretty sure her temperature was dropping. He looked over his shoulder at Ember. She was still there a few feet away, her hands outstretched, eyes closed.

  Praying, no doubt.

  Marcus was grateful. He needed a miracle if he was going to get Mary Catherine home in this condition. Ten minutes passed, then another ten. Moment by moment, Mary Catherine’s fever left and she gathered strength. Marcus found some water and mixed in the hydration packet he’d brought from home.

  He helped Mary Catherine sit up. “I have something for you.”

  Now that she was up, she looked more like herself. Too thin and pale, still very sick, but better than when she was asleep on the couch. Her eyes met his and in an instant Marcus could see straight into her soul. “I missed you.” He whispered the words as he held the cup to her lips
.

  She took some of the liquid, her eyes never leaving his. “I’m sorry. I . . . should’ve . . .”

  “Shhh.” He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here.”

  Her eyes glistened with tears and her chin quivered. But she didn’t cry. It took all her energy to get the drink down—which she did, one sip at a time. Along the way he could almost feel her gaining strength.

  Ember left the room and when she returned she handed Marcus a bag of pill bottles. “She needs these every three hours. Two of each kind.” She motioned to the glass Mary Catherine was finishing. “And as much of that as you can get down her. The protein drink, too.”

  Marcus looked long at Ember. “How did you know I brought protein powder?”

  For a split second Ember looked nervous. Then she smiled. “I saw them in your backpack. When you got the hydration powder.”

  “Oh.” Marcus blinked a few times. That didn’t actually seem possible from where Ember had been standing. But it didn’t matter. He nodded at the woman. “Thank you. For everything.” He had no idea where Ember had come from or how God had provided just the right person for this ordeal, but he was beyond grateful.

  “Marcus.” Mary Catherine was more alert now. “Thank you . . . for coming here.”

  “I told you I would.” He smiled at her. “I’ll build my orphanage on the other side of that gate.”

  The lightest bit of laughter came from her. “Build it back in LA.”

  “Right.” Marcus looked around. “Where is your suitcase?”

  “By the door.” Ember pointed to a tall blue suitcase. “She came with four bags, but mostly filled with supplies for the children. That’s all she’s taking back.”

  Marcus stared at the suitcase. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t there before. But again he had no time to debate the fact. He searched Mary Catherine’s eyes and put his hand alongside her face. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” She still looked frail and sick, but there was a strength in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I can do this.”