The Final Adversary

by Gilbert, Morris

Shortly before noon Bestman called a halt. The path had disappeared into what looked like a river or swamp. Katie stared at it, her legs trembling with exhaustion, but said nothing. It seemed impossible, and then Bestman pulled a hatchet from his belt and gave orders to his helpers.

  “Katie,” Barney said, “you rest with Irene,” then moved to help with the construction of a raft.

  Katie knew he was exhausted, and asked again if he was all right, but he didn’t answer, so she turned to Irene and held her, trying to force some heat into her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing faint and irregular, and she mumbled as though confused. Oh, God, Katie prayed again, please help!

  In a short while the men had built a raft of green logs tied with vines. It looked precarious, but it would have to work—hopefully.

  “Let me have her,” Barney said. He picked Irene up and placed her on the raft. “All right, let’s go. Katie, hang on to me.”

  The raft sank almost out of sight in the brown waters as the men shoved it forward. One of the bearers carried the hammock, while Barney and Bestman helped the others maneuver the clumsy craft through the waist-deep water.

  Katie clung to Barney’s belt, floundering along in the water that rose almost breast high on her. At one point she nearly slipped under. Barney grabbed her, put his arm around her, and half dragged her along in the wake of the raft.

  When it seemed that Katie could go no farther, Bestman called out, “Come on, Mammy! We be dry now!”

  Relieved, Katie saw that the water gave way to land, and soon they were walking along a trail. It was muddy and hard going, but not so strenuous as wading in the swamp. Finally it grew darker and Barney said, “We’ll have to rest until morning, Bestman. Let’s take what cover we can find.”

  An hour later they found shelter under the trees. Bestman gathered punk—light, dry sections from inside a stump—and with Barney’s matches wrapped in oilcloth, they got a fire started. The men rigged up a framework of saplings for Irene, and covered it with leaves; then Katie removed Irene’s clothes, dried them by the fire, and dressed her again. By then Bestman brought the stew he had made. Like one used to long treks, he had packed provisions and a tin pot for cooking.

  “Thank you, Bestman,” Katie said. She tried to get Irene to eat, but she was having chills and shaking so terribly that she refused. Katie ate a small portion of the stew, then dried her own clothes and returned to sit beside Irene.

  Barney joined her, nodded at Irene, and said, “She’s in God’s hands.”

  “I know,” Katie replied, “but it is hard to understand.”

  “God is still sovereign,” Barney assured her. “We can do only so much. He asks us to trust Him no matter what happens—trust, love, and follow Him with all our hearts.”

  Outside the frail tent, the men were eating and talking quietly before they rolled up and went to sleep. As the hours passed, Barney and Katie, too, were swallowed up in sleep.

  Much later, Katie awoke with a start. It was Irene! Filled with fear, Katie shook Barney, and they bent over Irene. She was speaking incoherently, her face contorted, and her chest heaving as she gasped for air.

  “What’s happening?” Katie asked in alarm.

  “I think she’s going, Katie,” Barney said.

  “No!” Katie protested, taking Irene in her arms protectively. Like a mother she held the emaciated form of her co-worker, and with her eyes closed, whispered, “You can’t die, Irene!”

  After a few moments, Irene drew back and opened her eyes. They were clear as crystal! She stared at Katie, then shifted her eyes to Barney, and back to Katie, running her tongue across her dry lips. “Katie—you have been so good to me!”

  “Irene—you’ll be all right!” Katie choked out.

  “No, dear,” Irene whispered. “You and Barney must go on for Jesus. But He’s calling me to come to Him.” She smiled. “I thought it would be—be terrible to die,” she murmured, taking Katie’s and Barney’s hands. “But it’s like—it’s like going home!”

  Blinded by tears, Katie clung to Irene’s hand, unable to say anything. Had it not been for Barney’s arm supporting her, she would have fallen.

  “You’ve been the faithful handmaiden of the Lord, Irene.” Barney’s voice was steady. “You’re going now to be with Him who loved you and died for you.”

  “Yes!” she said. Her eyes turned upward and she gasped. It was faint but they heard her whisper, “I am coming—precious Lord!”

  Then she took one deep breath—and her body slowly relaxed. Katie released her friend and sobbed with a grief that flooded her—sharp and painful as anything Katie Sullivan had ever known. Soon that passed and gave way to a peace that was another new experience.

  She drew away from Barney and arranged Irene’s hands and smoothed her hair. Her eyes were soft and more beautiful than anything Barney had ever seen.

  “We’ll take her to Rhodilly for burial,” Katie said.

  “All right, Katie.”

  They sat until dawn, both falling asleep from sheer exhaustion, but when Katie awakened, she cried in alarm, “Barney, you’re ill!”

  He was slumped over, his body shaking uncontrollably. He lifted his head.

  “Barney, you’ve got malaria!” she said. “We can’t go on!”

  “We can’t stay here,” he whispered. “I can make it.”

  Bestman awakened and hurriedly got everyone moving. The hammock bearers sang as they moved through the jungle. After a while Barney began to stagger, and Katie called to Bestman, “He can’t walk, Bestman.”

  “I see, Mammy. We carry Kwi Balee.”

  They reached Rhodilly at noon and were met by a native who spoke rapidly to Bestman. Bestman conveyed the solemn news to Katie. “He say, man he die. Woman very sick.”

  “Take me to her,” Katie said. “But first, we must find a place for Barney.” After Barney was settled, she went to Pearl.

  Bending over the sick woman she asked, “Pearl? Can you hear me?”

  Pearl opened her eyes and in a few seconds recognized her. “Katie!” she whispered, reaching out for her hand. As Katie held the thin hands, Pearl cried brokenly, “Tobe died—last night.”

  “Yes. He’s with Jesus now, Pearl.”

  “I’m going to die, too,” Pearl said. The tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “No, you won’t die!” Katie said emphatically. She began to pray for her, and finally Pearl whispered, “I’m glad—you came. I was so afraid.”

  “I’ll be right here, Pearl,” Katie promised. “Try to sleep now.”

  Pearl spent a peaceful night and seemed much better when she awakened. It was the encouragement both of them needed. However, Barney’s condition had worsened.

  That morning Katie had to conduct the funeral service for Irene. She was the only white person among the black Christians and felt very alone. In the short while she’d been in Africa, Katie had been faced with so many difficult situations, and she began to wonder if this was the normal life of a missionary. In the cold and dismal rain falling on the dreary setting, Katie read the verses from First Corinthians:

  “Behold, I shew you a mystery; we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

  “For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. . . . Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

  “The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

  Throughout the simple service, she was conscious of God’s peace. Afterward, she lingered at the graveside, her thoughts going back to the Rescue Mission, of Irene as she had laughed and sung with joy at the services. Finally she turned away from the spot and went back to Pearl.

  When Katie told her that Barney had malaria, she wanted to leav
e immediately. “Katie, this place is deadly. Take us to the coast!”

  Katie contemplated the possibility for a moment. “All right. I’ll see what I can do. If possible, we’ll leave in the morning.”

  She talked to Bestman, who said he’d get some men to carry the sick. Next she stopped to see Barney. “I’m taking you and Pearl to the coast in the morning,” she said. “This place is rampant with malaria.”

  Barney was too sick to argue, and nodded. “I’d feel better about Pearl.”

  “I’d feel better about both of you.” Katie reached out and put her hand on his forehead.

  Her hand felt cool, and he managed a smile. “Nothing a woman likes more than having a sick man on her hands.”

  “It’s my turn,” she said gently. “Remember how you and your mother took care of me at the mission? So don’t fuss. I’ve talked to Bestman, he’s got the bearers, and they’re working on the hammocks. You’ll have to ride in one, you know.”

  As planned, they left the village at dawn, and it proved to be an easy journey, considering the circumstances. The rain had stopped, and the sun even gave off a few feeble rays. Bestman had persuaded a large number of bearers to make the trip, so by alternating, they could march all day with only short periods of rest.

  Barney was delirious most of the time, but Pearl seemed to improve. Katie kept a close watch on both of them, but she was relieved when they reached the station at Garroway. She was surprised to find that Stanley Beecham was there to greet them.

  “Well, we’ll take care of the sick,” Beecham said. “What about Irene?”

  “She died on the way here,” Katie said simply.

  “That’s too bad!” Beecham shook his head. “She was a fine girl! Very fine!” He stood there silently, then asked, “Did you know that Lily Ranken died two weeks ago?”

  Katie stared at him. “I hadn’t heard. What about her husband Slim?”

  “He’s well enough—except he blames himself for Lily’s death.”

  “And Andy and Del?”

  “They had malaria, too, but are well now.” Beecham hesitated before saying, “They’re in Monrovia.”

  “Monrovia? Why are they there? For supplies?”

  Beecham shook his head. There was sadness in his eyes, and he said quietly, “No, Katie. They’ve gone to work with the Hansens.” He saw how hard the news hit her, and said, “Come along. We’ll talk about it later.”

  They did talk, and she discovered that the men had left the station two months earlier and had been working with the City Mission ever since.

  “I think they were planning to visit all of you, to try to persuade you to return to the city,” Beecham said. “Now they’ll probably be more insistent.”

  “It will be hard on Barney. He hates to go against his brother.”

  Pearl recuperated quickly, but Barney was still very ill when Andy and Reverend Hansen and his daughter Dorothy arrived. They were all saddened to hear about Irene—and concerned for Barney. “We’ve got to get him to the hospital in Monrovia,” Andy insisted.

  Beecham thought it would be better to let him recover where he was, but Andy refused to take no for an answer. “You and Pearl had better come, too, Katie,” he said.

  Katie nodded. “Yes, I’ll help take care of him.”

  “Oh, he’ll have plenty of nurses in the hospital,” Dorothy interjected quickly.

  Dorothy was right, Katie discovered later when they admitted Barney to the hospital in Monrovia. The trip was made without any difficulty, and soon Barney was receiving expert nursing care. Katie visited him often, but spent much time walking along the shore, thinking of Irene a great deal, and of Tobe DeLaughter.

  Barney grew better, but it was several weeks before he could get out of bed. He had little appetite and seemed confused.

  Katie was concerned about that, but Reverend Hansen commented, “Common enough with this sort of thing. He needs lots of rest, that’s all. We’ll bring him to the house here until he has recovered.”

  As the weeks went by, Katie felt the need to go back to her station, but wanted to wait until Barney was well enough to return to Gropaka. Both she and Barney were staying with the Hansens, and she had waited for Barney to talk about returning, but he said little. Perhaps he was still exhausted, she decided.

  It was on a Friday afternoon that Andy came by to talk with Barney. He had made short visits, but this time, Katie saw, he was determined about something. She had learned to recognize that element in Andy’s character. Dorothy was with him, and she, too, looked solemn.

  “Barney, we need to talk,” Andy said. “Do you feel up to it?”

  “Why, I guess so, Andy.” Barney’s face was thin. The fever had planed him down, leaving the ridges of his jaws sharp and his eyes more deep-set than usual. “What’s the matter?”

  Andy reached over and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Do you remember when you all voted to go to the interior, and I was against it?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “We were ten when we came. Now Lily and Irene are gone. I doubt if Pearl or Slim will go back into the interior. Del feels that God wants him to work in the City Mission with the Hansens.”

  “What about you, Andy?” Barney asked quietly.

  “Didn’t Reverend Beecham tell you what I’ve decided?” Andy demanded.

  “No.”

  The news made Andy slightly uncomfortable. “Well,” he said, “I’m going back home. Somebody needs to be there raising support for the work here, and I can do it.” He went on hurriedly. “Can’t you see that it was a mistake to go off into the interior?”

  “Andy,” Katie broke in, “I don’t agree.”

  “Katie, wouldn’t you like to have Irene alive and well?”

  Katie studied him. “All of us are expendable. If we spend our lives seeking a safe place, the gospel will never be preached to the world!”

  Ignoring Katie, he turned back to Barney, earnestly trying to reason with him. For a long time he expounded on the practicality of working in a safe environment. There was no question as to his sincerity; he believed every word he was saying and spoke so eloquently that neither Barney nor Katie could counter his logic.

  Finally Andy said, “Barney, you and Katie will have to look at this thing realistically.” Then he paused and spread his hands wide, saying, “Only you two and Gardner are still determined to go on in the interior.” He came and put his hand on Barney’s shoulder, and there was real affection in his eyes as he added, “Barney, I love you too much to see you throw yourself away. You’ve come too far for that! I’m asking you, come with us! We’ve tried it your way; now you try it our way. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

  Barney sat with his head down. It was a difficult time, for he could remember so many times as boys when Andy had swayed him to do things. Everything he said now sounded so right. But what about his call from God? After a while he lifted his eyes to Andy and said, “I’ll have to pray about it.”

  “Of course!” Andy nodded. “Naturally, you will. And you must do the same, Katie.” Then he skillfully turned the conversation to the things that had been happening in Monrovia, “big things that were going to make the world take note.”

  ****

  Barney slept fitfully that night, his mind going in circles as he tried to arrive at the right decision. What did God want? Was Andy right again?

  The next morning Andy was there early and said in front of the others, “Well, Barney, will you give me a chance to show you what can be done? And remember, I went with you when I thought it was a mistake.”

  Barney had made up his mind. He nodded slowly, and the words came painfully. “Yes, Andy. I’ve been wrong so much, I’m afraid to trust myself.”

  Andy beamed. “Praise the Lord! You’ll see! You’ll see, Barney! It’s going to be great!”

  ****

  Katie slipped away without a word while the others were talking. She walked along the beach a great deal before returning to her room. That
night at supper she noted that Barney was very quiet, and noted also that Dorothy was sitting beside him, talking animatedly. Later, she again went for a walk, and as she headed back she saw him coming out of the building.

  “Barney?”

  He stopped, surprised to see her. “Katie—” he began, then could say no more.

  Katie walked over and stood by his side, waiting for him to continue. A night bird cried in the darkness, the echo fading as silence washed back over the land.

  Barney sighed. “Katie,” he said again, “I wish . . . Oh, what’s the use. I’m not really sure of anything anymore. What will you do?”

  “Me? I’m going back,” she replied unhesitatingly. Her voice was firm and void of any doubt. “If I didn’t go back, it would mean Pearl and Lily died for nothing.”

  “I never thought of it like that.” Barney’s face lost some of the tension. Turning his head, he smiled at her. “You’re a strong woman, Katie Sullivan.”

  “Maybe I’m just stubborn,” she replied. “My mother always said I was.”

  He nodded absently and looked up at the sky. “Dad wondered if the skies looked different over here. I guess they do in a way—but life goes on here just like at home.”

  Katie impulsively put her hand on his arm. “Barney, be sure about your decision before you do this.”

  He looked at her, his eyes tired. “I can’t seem to do anything right, Katie.”

  “Not true! That’s not true!” she insisted.

  “Yes, it is.” Barney’s eyes mirrored something she couldn’t understand. “Remember the old nursery rhyme ‘London Bridge Is Falling Down’? Well, that’s what it’s like to me, Katie.” He looked up at the sky again, let out a slow sigh, and said under his breath, “Everything is falling down.” Then he turned and walked away.

  Katie’s heart ached for him, but she could do nothing. Beecham had told them about missionaries who performed well at first—then gave way under pressure. But she never thought Barney Winslow would be one of them.

  With sad resignation she walked back to the beach. For a long time she listened to the waves washing in and out, throwing stones up on the beach. We can be just like those waves, she thought, tossed about by doubt and fear when everything is coming apart. But, Lord, aren’t you enough? Can’t you energize and create within us the power and desire to do what you want—for your satisfaction, delight and pleasure, not ours? I’ve seen you work. Oh, Jesus, make my heart like your heart in this situation. As she stood quietly waiting, her mind was triggered by the memory of Irene and the muddy grave in the jungle, and she lifted her head and walked back to her room. At dawn the next day she left Monrovia without saying goodbye. By the time the sun was high, she was pushing steadily through the jungle with Bestman at her side, headed back to Maoli and her people.