Secrets (20 page)

In the midst of their cleaning, the church door opened. Seven children, three women, and two men entered, completely drenched. They greeted Jessica and the girls with warm handshakes. Then the women sat on the wooden benches on one side of the church, and the two men stood by the back door.

Jessica checked her watch. It was only 4:20. These people were early, and they weren’t alone. More people started coming in. Each of them shook hands, greeting Jessica and the teens. By 4:45 the church was filled. Outside, the rain continued.

“What should we do?” Jessica asked the girls. “Our only
two interpreters are gone, and these people seem ready to start the meeting. Do either of you speak Spanish?”

The students shook their heads. “I brought some sock puppets,” one of the girls said. “Maybe we could do a little show or something.”

Before they had a chance to work out the details, the church door opened again, and two teenage boys from the village let a squealing pig loose inside. It ran around, wildly snorting and squealing and leaving muddy streaks across the cement floor. The children loved it. The women were horrified. The men cornered the bewildered animal and corralled it back out the front door. Just as the pig went squealing on its way, Kyle and Teri arrived with the rest of the group. Another thirty or so people came with them.

Bill was right. The church that was a-building was nothing like the church that was built. Jessica didn’t know how they managed to pack so many people into the small building. She was grateful that she had found a place to sit early on. One of her little friends perched on her lap, and the other two sat at Jessica’s feet. The smell of their wet hair and clothes was almost overpowering. Although it wasn’t just them. Everyone smelled moldy. Teri managed to wedge in next to Jessica on the bench and scooped up two little girls onto her lap.

At exactly five o’clock, Cristobal and Kyle stepped to the front of the room and onto the small platform Kyle had built. Kyle looked as if he were about to burst with joy. Cristobal spoke first. Jessica could figure out that he welcomed everyone and then asked them to stand.

“Vamos a orar,”
Cristobal said, lifting his Bible over his head and closing his eyes.

“Pray,” Teri whispered to Jessica. Jessica closed her eyes and heard a slow rumbling across the room as men and women agreed with Cristobal’s prayer, which he spoke in bold,
sincere tones. The praying sounded like a brook running to meet the ocean, getting louder as it became wider.

“Amen, amen,” Cristobal concluded, and everyone in the room echoed, “Amen, amen.” Jessica remembered hearing the teens say the same thing when they were at their final meeting. This must be where they had picked it up.

The group sat down, and Teri, taking her girls back onto her lap, leaned over to Jessica and whispered, “He holds the Bible over his head like that to show he wants to be under God’s authority.” Teri continued to interpret for Jessica in hushed words as the service went on.

Kyle spoke for a few minutes. His Spanish seemed fluent enough, but his words were halting, and Jessica thought she saw tears in his eyes. She realized that for Kyle, seeing his dream come true, had to be rewarding. Perhaps one day he would stand on another platform in this village and dedicate his orphanage.

Then the music began. Cristobal took up a guitar, and two young men joined him, both with guitars as well. Without song books or any words provided, the people began to sing. Their singing touched something deep inside Jessica, and she longed to join in. She looked at Teri. Teri’s eyes were closed, her face tilted upward, and tears were streaming down her cheeks as she sang her heart out.

Outside the rain poured down, and inside the people sang on. Never had Jessica felt so moved.

Just look at how captivated these people are with worshipping God
.

For the next hour several men spoke, each of them talking about how God had provided for them. Jessica thought their speeches were small, yet their faith and trust were large. Her trust was small. As Teri interpreted, Jessica listened to one of the men say that since the day he came to know Christ, three
years ago, he had found that God provided everything he needed. Not everything he wanted, but everything he needed.

It made Jessica think of her zucchini and the groceries and even the DoveBars. What a silly thing to connect God with. Yet to her it was the first evidence she had seen that God was merciful and caring and that he desired to “bless” her, as Teri would say. She knew then that either she had to believe God was a personal God who cared about her, or she had to reject God altogether. She couldn’t remain distant from him or run away. Not tonight. Not here, in the midst of all these people.

More messages, more prayers, and more singing followed. At the end, Kyle prayed. He also held a Bible over his head and ended with “Amen, Amen.”

The official dedication of the church was over, but the hugging and good-byes went on for another hour. Children ran wild in the suffocating little room. Dozens of young women tried to start up conversations with Jessica. She had to regretfully shake her head and offer them a little hug instead of conversation.

Teri had her hands full interpreting for everyone as well as exchanging a final few words with some of the women she seemed close to. One of the young women, Letty, had helped all weekend on the church and seemed enthusiastic and encouraging to the teens. Jessica noticed Dawn standing beside Letty, their arms around each other while Bill captured their smiling faces with his video camera. Dawn had blossomed during the weekend, not only in relating to the Mexican women and children, but also in fitting in with the youth group.

Dawn really didn’t need me to come. I’m glad I did, though
.

Jessica’s opinion quickly changed when they left the shelter of the building and made a dash for the van. It was still raining. All the wet and mud made Jessica hang back, waiting until the last minute. She noticed Kyle delivering to Cristobal the
boxes of clothes and supplies the church had sent down with them.

“Come on,” Teri called, lifting her trash bag up with both arms. “We can both fit under here.”

Jessica slid in next to Teri, and four little children joined them, like baby ducks hiding under their mother’s wide, down girth. They took about four nimble steps in the mud; then Teri slipped and fell down face first, pulling her canopy and two of the children with her.

“Are you okay?” Jessica bent down and tried to help Teri up.

Teri was laughing so hard she couldn’t answer. She was black across the front, all mud except for the whites of her eyes and teeth. “What a klutz!” she chided herself. Teri rose and checked on the little ones, who were also laughing. “I hope my suitcase is near the back of the truck,” she said, wiping the glops of mud from her cheeks. “I don’t think the border guards would let me out of the country looking like this.” Teri took a step and nearly fell again. “Ouch!” She grabbed her right leg and tried to hop quickly on the other foot. “My ankle,” she said.

Jessica offered Teri her arm, and they hobbled over to the van where a dozen teens were watching the comedy routine, none of them aware that Teri was hurt. Bill’s camera was rolling from the open side door of the van, his running commentary keeping the crowd laughing.

“You guys, she’s really hurt,” Jessica yelled.

“I’m okay,” Teri said.

“No you’re not. You can’t even walk.”

“Kyle,” Bill called out, putting down the camera and trying to capture Kyle’s attention. “Kyle, over here. Teri’s hurt!”

Teri sat down on the step inside the van door and caught her breath. Jessica stood next to her, the rain coursing down her back, and the mud from Teri dripping off her arm. Kyle
sprinted over, picking his way through the mud. The minute he saw Teri’s mud covered face, he burst out laughing. “This is the best joke you’ve pulled all week! Was this Bill’s idea?”

“Kyle, she hurt her ankle,” Jessica said.

His smile disappeared. “Which one is it, Teri?” Jessica recognized the rescuer tone in his voice.

It took nearly an hour, even with the help of the people there, to get Teri cleaned up, changed, and her ankle wrapped. Jessica and some of the soaked teens took advantage of the opportunity to change into drier clothes too.

The only good thing about the delay was that the rain let up. After another round of tears, hugs, and good-byes, Kyle pulled Jessica off to the side, out of sight from the rest of the group. They stood behind the church, their feet sinking into the soft, clay mud.

“I don’t think Teri should drive,” Kyle said.

Jessica swallowed hard. “So you want me to drive the truck?”

Kyle looked at her without answering. His green eyes scanned hers in search of a willing spirit.

Jessica looked away. “I guess it’s the only logical solution. I follow you, right?”

Kyle nodded. He reached for her elbow and gave it a tender squeeze. “Thanks, Jess.” He had never called her that before. She loved the way it sounded, rolling out of that deep chest and falling softly on her heart. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I thought that was your occupation,” Jessica said quickly. A crooked grin pulled at the corner of her mouth, and she felt the familiar, ever so slight tug of her half-moon scar.

Kyle’s hand moved toward her, and before she realized what he was doing, he touched her tiny scar, tenderly tracing the half-circle with his large, rough finger. Jessica reached up and clasped his hand, drawing his palm to her cheek. She
closed her eyes and felt Kyle’s open hand cupping her chin and cheek. Kyle did not pull away. Jessica did not move.

All Jessica could think of were Kyle’s words from the first night in the village:
“I’m here for you, if you want me to be. I wish that you would be open. That’s all. Just be open.”
Right now Jessica felt as if her heart were more open than it had been in months—no, in years. It seemed crazy to feel that way while standing in a mud puddle in Mexico.

“Kyle,” Jessica whispered, opening her eyes and looking up at him. No other words followed. All that emerged was a tiny tear that skittered down her cheek.

He smiled. “I see it’s beginning to heal nicely.” He traced the half-moon again before withdrawing his hand.

“I hope so,” Jessica said, feeling herself blush. She felt as if something inside her was healing as well.

Suddenly she felt self-conscious. She looked away and asked, “Do you want Teri to ride with me in the truck?”

“Oh, um,” Kyle cleared his throat. “Actually, I fixed a place for Teri in the van so she could keep her foot elevated. Have you seen inside the cab of the truck? We packed everything in such a hurry we had to put some of the sleeping bags in the front seat with you. No one else could fit in there.”

Jessica tried to appear calm.

“Here are the keys.” Kyle pulled them from his pocket and handed them to Jessica. “Are you going to be all right driving by yourself? We could move some of the junk into the van and put someone else in there with you.”

It began to sprinkle, and Jessica thought of how long they already had been delayed. “No, I’m sure I’ll be fine. Just don’t leave me in the dust. Or, should I say, in the mud.”

“It won’t be hard to keep an eye on you. One of the front headlights broke since we’ve been here. It’ll make it easier for me to watch for you, but I’m sure it’ll make it harder for you
to see the road. Be careful, okay? And if you want me to stop for any reason, just blink your brights a few times, and I’ll pull over.”

“Okay,” Jessica agreed. She took the keys and sloshed to the truck, determined to prove she was a rugged woman who could conquer any situation, even a muddy, remote Mexican road at night in the middle of a rainstorm. She was strong and independent. She could do this.

T
he windshield wipers on the truck fiercely beat back and forth, clearing Jessica’s view. The van rolled down the paved road several comfortable yards in front of her. Its red taillights were the only illumination she could see in the blackness of the stormy night. Kyle was right about it being hard to see the road with only one headlight. Driving out of the village was tricky and so was coercing the truck to cooperate in the mud. When the tires connected with the firm asphalt on the main road, Jessica breathed a little easier.

She didn’t see the first pothole before she hit it, but when she did, the jolt jarred her teeth and caused her hands to grip the steering wheel in fear. She remembered only too well how quickly her last accident had happened. Tonight all the elements were against her, and she could almost feel the impending threat of an accident if she made one imprecise move. Slowing down, Jessica scanned the road ahead of her, trying to assess every bump or curve before she came to it.

Come on, Kyle, slow down! I’m anxious to get out of here, too, but you don’t have to drive fifty miles an hour on this death trap road
.

The rain let up, and Jessica allowed herself to ease her grip on the steering wheel. Her neck began to ache. She stretched her shoulders and remembered how wonderful Kyle’s short back rub had felt yesterday.