Moore than Forever

by Julie Richman

  The toddlers were just about to go down for their naps when Mia poked her head in the room, all three came running to her as she was now a familiar face.

  “I was waiting for you, Mia,” a very serious Msikana told her.

  “Well today you are not getting out of a nap, young lady,” Mia reprimanded her with a smile.

  “I don’t want to nap,” Kelvan chimed in.

  “Is it alright if I read them a story?” Mia asked Bupe.

  Taking her phone from her purse, Mia pulled up her book app and chose the beloved classic, Goodnight Moon.

  Settling into their mats, the three toddlers listened intently, before a strict Bupe insisted on lights out.

  With the older students off doing laundry and household chores, Mia sat alone in their classroom sifting through the big blue binder that held the children’s biographies. As she sipped black tea from the northern province of Luapula, she took notes on the records and life stories that had been entered for each of the orphans.

  Grabbing her phone, she pulled up a favorite picture of Nathaniel, his bright blue eyes shining with her devilish demeanor and his smile oozing all of Schooner’s charm. Feeling her throat immediately constrict and the empty pang in her heart, she put her phone back in her bag. It was impossible for her not to think of the love that surrounded him, the love he was learning to reciprocate as she turned each page in the binder.

  As she transcribed facts about each of the children, facts that she knew would be the basis of stories used to engage club members and capital campaign donors, it was hard to assimilate that the horrors she was reading were about the sweet, happy, well-behaved children with whom she had spent the last few days.

  Sitting back and taking a deep breath before moving on to the next biography, Mia was angry at the injustices suffered by these children. Reminding herself to stay detached, act like a journalist, she mustered up the resolve to move on to the next record.

  Ezekial. Nine years old, birthday March 26th. That would make him an Aries, Mia mused. Chuckling out loud, he had been quite aggressive on the soccer field yesterday. Yeah, she could see him as an Aries. Her smile faded as she read on. A victim of sexual abuse before the age of five, he had undergone three surgeries before the age of seven to repair internal tears.

  Again Mia had to sit back to calm herself and consciously talk away the nausea. These were atrocities. Crimes against children. What greater offense could there be in the universe?

  Trina and Theone were twins, born Christmas day. Both parents were lost to disease and their grandparents were too impoverished and sickly to care for them. Thomas’ mother was a drug addict. Chibesa was abandoned on a road side.

  Shell shocked. These weren’t just stories. These weren’t some mass-produced child-of-the-month club fundraising packages. These were toddlers to whom she had read. They were children who ran a soccer field with Schooner. It was a baby Nathaniel’s age with green mush all over his face. They were real children. And in that moment, Mia fell deeply in love with Sonkwe and Bupe. They were angels on Earth. Heroes. Rockstars. And if her faith in humanity had been rocked by the stories in the binder, it was immediately replenished by the goodness in the souls of the Bandas.

  Mia held off on reading Msikana’s profile. If that little girl has been sexually abused, I’m going to go postal on someone, Mia thought.

  With a slow exhale she gathered her resolve and turned the page.

  Mia Silver never made it past the first line.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Schooner watched Mia peering out the Jeep’s window at the landscape as the urban streets of Lusaka rapidly receded in the rearview mirror. Had she not become so withdrawn and somber before they left the facility, he would have just assumed she was taking in the Zambian landscape and committing it to her mind’s eye. The rapid change of facial expressions, unmistakably told him that something was just not right.

  Reaching over, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze, “You ok?”

  Nodding, she greeted him with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and immediately turned back to staring out the window.

  “Do you want to skip the elephant orphanage today?” Their plan was to spend some time at the Lilayi Elephant Nursery that was adjacent to the grounds of their lodge. Mia had been looking forward to seeing the elephant calves and shooting pictures, and now Schooner was concerned that exhaustion was setting in and the emotional encounters that they had experienced at both the hospitals and orphanage were starting to take their toll on her.

  “No. I don’t want to miss it. I’ve been looking forward to it all trip.”

  “You sure,” he pressed, “a nap might be just what you need.”

  Without looking away from the window, “I don’t need a nap.”

  Traversing the remaining thirty miles out to Lilayi in silence, Schooner tried to put together the pieces of the day. Something must’ve happened when he was meeting about shipping logistics for the equipment and she was shooting photos in the orphanage.

  “Did something happen today?”

  She shook her head, no. Still not turning to face him.

  “Do you want to talk about it, Baby Girl?”

  Again, her response was merely a shake of the head.

  Entering the Lilayi Elephant Nursery, Mia’s mood seemed to lift. Seeing the calves brought an immediate smile to both her eyes and her lips. Side-by-side, she and Schooner set their 24-70mm lenses onto their D800 camera bodies (holiday presents to one another). Nudging her with his shoulder, she looked up smiling. Photographing Zambia with Mia had been his dream, and he wished that she was feeling the same joy that he was.

  “Ok, let’s go check this out,” and he slung an arm over her shoulder as they entered.

  Leaning up on the railing of the viewing deck, the six calves came in for feeding. Handing them their bottles, filled with nutrient-enriched milk, they wrapped their trunks around the bottles, feeding themselves.

  “That is so cute,” Mia was focusing in on the smallest of the calves, Nkala, who had been orphaned at three months old and came to the nursery depressed and not wanting to socialize with the other orphans. Nkala was finally joining the other elephants in activities and mud baths and the personnel were very happy to see this breakthrough.

  Listening to the stories of each of these creatures was heartbreaking. The staff began to tell the story of Suni, an eight month old orphan that had been dragging herself along a roadside when she was attacked by an axe to her back, damaging her spine. Schooner could see the tears streaming down Mia’s face and pulled her close. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, “Do you want to leave?”

  She shook her head no and continued to sniffle and wipe away her tears which only escalated with each of the calves stories. Hiding her face behind her Nikon, Schooner knew she was trying to focus on her picture taking as a way to maintain what little control she had left.

  Leaving the nursery, they made their way through the game farm to the Lilaya Lodge and on to their private, rounded chalet. Dominating the room was a beautiful, oversized four-poster bed with sheer white netting surrounds. Schooner took the backpack of Mia’s camera equipment from her and placed it on the bed.

  Walking into the large bathroom, he immediately began to run a bath in the limestone soaker tub. With a satisfied grin, he emerged a few minutes later and sat down on the bed next to Mia, who was scrolling through the pictures on her camera.

  “I ran a bath for you, why don’t you go soak in the tub and then come out and nap. I’m going to work for a little bit,” he kissed the top of her head and got up to pull his laptop out of his bag. Sitting down at the desk and flipping open his computer, he looked over at her. She hadn’t moved. “Tub now, Ms. Silver,” he voice was stern.

  Begrudgingly, she stood and made her way to the bathroom. As she passed Schooner, she gave him a half-smile and the finger.

  Laughing, “Right backatcha, babe,” and he swatted her ass as she passed.

>   Twenty minutes later she re-entered the room and headed straight for the bed, without uttering a word. Climbing into the center of the bed and getting under the covers, he let her be until he heard her breathing steady. Once certain she was asleep, he stripped off his clothes and curled up in bed next to her.

  Whatever was troubling Mia concerned him. Was she just overwhelmed by the sad stories from the orphanage? Did the children just make her miss Nathaniel that much more? It wasn’t like Mia to fall into despair and not be able to verbalize to him what was troubling her. A bath and a mid-afternoon nap were hopefully all she needed to shake the darkness.

  The night’s plans included dinner with the Castillos at the Lodge’s famed restaurant. If Mia woke up and still wasn’t feeling herself, he would call them and cancel and have dinner delivered to the chalet. The room had internet and satellite TV, they could relax, call home, watch TV from bed. The idea was starting to sound rather appealing.

  Pulling her close up against him, he whispered, “I love you, Baby Girl,” and kissed the top of her head before falling into a deep afternoon slumber.

  Berto, Marit and Lily were seated at a round table in the center of the Lodge’s thatched roof restaurant when Schooner and Mia arrived.

  “Did you see the elephants today?” Lily’s plan was to see them tomorrow.

  Mia nodded, “Plan on falling in love. Each one has a story and it’s heart wrenching,” and then in a quiet tone, “much like the children at the orphanage.”

  A look passed between Lily and her father.

  “There will always be time for this after college, Liliana.” Berto was giving his daughter the “this is not negotiable” face.

  Rolling her eyes at him made Schooner laugh.

  “Lily, if I had a dollar for every time my kids gave me that exact same look, well, I’d be a much richer man.” Taking a sip of his robust South African Cabernet Sauvignon, “I definitely need to introduce you to my daughter, like you, she’s also in New England, up at Brown.”

  “Yeah, that’s not too far at all from New Haven.” Although Lily had just completed her freshman year at Yale with excellent grades, the thought of going back was becoming less appealing by the day.

  “I think you two would like each other. You were both brought up in Orange County, yet are the antithesis of Orange County women,” Schooner’s pride when talking of Holly was very evident.

  As the waiter delivered plates of smoked salmon ceviche resting in lemon, ginger and sweet chili, the conversation turned to the plans for the rehabilitation center.

  “Don’t you think I could make more of an impact here than back in New Haven, Dad?” Lily relentlessly continued to press her case.

  “Lily, this is not the time or the place,” Marit was clearly becoming annoyed with her tenacious daughter. Her steely-eyed look silenced Lily into a petulant silence.

  Berto and Marit Castillo made a striking, if not odd, looking couple. Dutch-born Marit towered six inches over her husband, her Nordic beauty an instant head-turner for both men and women. Liliana was an interesting combination of the two, with a long silky sheath of medium-brown hair cascading down her back and a creamy complexion that tanned instead of burned. Her light brown eyes, flecked with gold, flashed with the intensity of her very serious personality. Lily Castillo was not a fun, care-free teen and that was made even more evident by the fervor in which she embraced the emotional and physical intensity of the trip.

  Mia remained conspicuously quiet throughout the meal with Schooner working double time to hold up the conversation for the two of them. Under the table, he reached for her hand to give it a squeeze. Her lack of response kicked up his alarms a notch further.

  “You up for dessert,” he asked softly, his face clearly conveying concern.

  With a half-smile, she nodded and they stayed through the rest of the meal. After dessert, with kisses to each cheek, they bid the Castillos goodnight, with plans to meet early for breakfast and travel together back to the facility for the ground-breaking ceremony and press conference.

  Under a black sky dotted with an impossible amount of twinkling stars that weren’t obscured by ambient city light, they silently walked hand-in-hand back to their chalet. Letting go of Mia’s hand, Schooner slung his arm over her shoulder, pulling her tightly into him.

  “I’m worried about you, Baby Girl.”

  Without looking up at him, she uttered four words that chilled the blood in his veins, “We need to talk.”

  Schooner’s alarms were now blaring. His gut told him, “This is not going to be good.” And his gut was rarely wrong.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Entering the chalet, Schooner went to the mini-bar and pulled out a bottle of GlenLivet. Holding it up, he silently asked Mia if she wanted a drink. She nodded yes and his anxiety ratcheted up yet another notch. He was dying. He just needed to know what was going on, so that he could fix it. Because whatever it was, he would fix it. Of that, he was sure. That is what he did best.

  Handing her the glass of scotch, he put his forefinger and thumb on her chin and tipped her head up. “Talk to me, Baby Girl.” The look in her eyes was something he could not discern and his throat closed a little more.

  Mia nodded and walked over to the bed. Getting onto it, she sat in the middle cross-legged. Following, Schooner got on the bed, sitting up with his back against the pillows, facing Mia. He placed the bottle of GlenLivet on the night table next to him. They sat there for a few moments in uneasy silence.

  After a long draw on her scotch, “I don’t even know where to begin this, but there is a lot I need to tell you.”

  The thought that immediately flashed through Schooner’s mind was that maybe after the orphanage the last few days, there was a baby in her past that she’d given up for adoption. Maybe that is what she wanted to share.

  Mia let out a deep breath, “There’s so much I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I just didn’t know how and the timing was never quite right. And maybe part of me was afraid. I haven’t really talked to you much about our years apart.”

  “No, you haven’t. And you don’t need to, Mia.”

  “I do, Schooner. I really, really do. And it needs to happen tonight.”

  He thought her last statement to be odd. Why tonight? What was going on that this conversation had to happen tonight?

  “You know why I left and you know what kind of shape I was in when I left. I came home and my parents pulled some strings to get me into a good college upstate New York. I was able to get into a really coveted writing program because a student had dropped out, a slot had become available and my writing samples were strong enough. The instructor was George Roy, which was kind of a big deal, and looking forward to that program got me through that first summer. It was an anchor that I could hold onto, the thing that made me want to keep my head above water.”

  Feeling her pain was easy. He had spent his whole summer, right here in the country where they both now sat, trying to hold onto something, anything, to keep from feeling like he was going to drown. As she spoke, the excruciating desperation of that time in their lives grabbed onto his heart, wringing it harshly.

  “When I got to school, I found out that Professor Roy had suffered a massive heart attack over the summer and had been replaced for the entire school year by his protegé, an MFA out of Cornell who was writing screenplays and TV scripts. A few weeks into the semester, he singled out me and Rob. You know, my friend Rob Ryan.”

  Schooner nodded. Although he had not yet met Rob, they had spoken over the phone on several occasions and he knew how close Mia still was to both him and his wife, Joni.

  “Rob and I worked together, independently from the rest of the class and met with the professor two evenings a week. The guy was young, he was only twenty-seven, and good looking and was sleeping with a couple of the seniors in the class.”

  “That’s not very professional,” Schooner chimed in, his eyes narrowing.

  Mia laughed and shrugge
d her shoulders, “It was the 80’s. Life before sexual harassment,” she took another sip of her scotch. “Anyway I became pretty friendly with him, but it was nothing at first. Just kind of a harmless flirtation, until the end of the school year, when it became something more.”

  “Mia, you were a minor,” there was alarm in Schooner’s tone.

  “No, we waited until my eighteenth birthday before anything happened.”

  Stomach knotting, Schooner remembered her eighteenth birthday vividly, and how despondent he was that night, sailing alone, thinking that was the night he was supposed to get engaged. That was the night it was supposed to happen. And now years and years later, just hearing this, he wanted to be sick. Shocked at how much this was already affecting him, he refilled his glass and took a healthy swig.

  “Go on,” he urged.

  “Well, Tom, his name was Tom, and I ended up staying together for seven years.”

  “Seven years?” Not expecting any of this, the thought that Mia had been in a relationship for that length of time, meant it was a real relationship, and he was becoming uncomfortable with the jealous feelings it was evoking. Had this guy come back?

  Nodding, “Yeah, seven years. And it worked because both of us were really limited in what we could give to one another emotionally. We got along great, enjoyed each other’s company, had a fun time together, but Schooner, never once in seven years did I tell him that I loved him. And he never said it to me, either.”

  Taking a breath, he was pleased with her last statement. Why am I so jealous, he wondered, this was ancient history and she didn’t love him. But he also knew, that sometime before this conversation was over, the other shoe would drop.

  “So, what happened?” he could hear how tight with stress his voice was and wondered if she picked up on it.

  As if reading his thoughts, she reached out and took his left hand. Smiling, “You’re going to love this.”