Sammy shoved the fifth taco into his mouth and guzzled down his third glass of water. Finally, he came up for air. “Raul? Do you believe we’ll have time to tell others about Jesus before we go to Heaven?”
“I guess so, yes. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well, my dad didn’t have much time. I mean, does God take all of us to Heaven right after he fills our hearts, or just some of us?”
“You think we are going to die because we made Jesus our Lord?”
Sammy nodded. “Isn’t that what the preacher said? That Jesus would wreck our lives? It happened to my dad.”
“Yes, but I think your father found out about God before he died. He didn’t die because God filled his heart.”
“But the preacher said Jesus would take us to Heaven.”
“Yes, Samuél, but that won’t happen until you are an old man.”
“Ohhhh.”
“You mean to tell me you thought you would die when you made Jesus Christ the Lord of your life?” a booming voice asked.
Startled, Raul and Sammy turned to find the preacher from the revival standing behind them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” His brown eyes danced and finally lighted on Sammy. “Did I hear you correctly, son?”
Sammy looked down, embarrassed. “Uh… yes, sir.”
“Mind if I have a seat?” he asked as he settled himself onto the stool next to Sammy. “So, you were willing to die for the Lord? Just like that?”
Sammy looked at the preacher and saw that his eyes had the same light his dad’s had before he died. “What choice did I have, sir? I mean, after what He did for me?”
“Well, I’ll be.”
Mona caught up with Gabriella along the shoreline. She stood back and watched her shake her fists at the sea, then pick up whatever she could find and violently throw it towards the water. Mona was surprised someone so tiny could throw with such force. As she watched Gabriella exhaust herself and sink to her knees, Mona saw that her peasant skirt and loose blouse were soaked through with sweat. I should have brought a blanket to cover her with.
Mona started toward her to offer some comfort, and as she neared, she heard Gabriella angrily talking out loud. “Why won’t you let us be? Haven’t you taken enough?” She picked up some sand and weakly threw it toward the sea. “Just go away and leave us alone. We don’t want you.”
“Gabriella,” Mona said, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around her. “Nobody is going to take Samuél from you. Raul found him safe and he is bringing him home now.”
“From the revival,” she muttered. “He went to find out about God.” She spat out the last word.
“Yes. But he is just a boy. Soon he will forget this nonsense.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Yes, Gabriella, I do. More than you know.”
Gabriella stared at the dark churning water. “I hate Him, Mona. He’s taken away everyone I’ve ever loved.” She shook her head. “He can’t have my Sammy, too. I won’t allow it.”
The preacher accepted the glass of water from the man behind the counter and held up four fingers when asked how many tacos he wanted. “I meant what I said in the tent, son. I sense that God has a special calling on your life.” He leaned into the counter and peered around Sammy at Raul. “Is he your grandson?”
Raul shook his head. “It feels like he is, but no” he said, reaching past Sammy to shake the preacher’s hand. “Have we met before?”
“They call me Preacher,” the man said, roughly shaking Raul’s hand. “You do seem familiar to me, but I can’t quite place you.”
He turned back toward Sammy. “How old are you, boy?”
“Ten.” He held up his pointer finger. “Almost eleven.”
“Almost eleven, huh?” He leaned back to get a closer look. “Where are your parents?”
“My dad… well, he died and went to Heaven. And my mom? I live with her in Rendición.”
“I hope she’s got a heart to understand what the Lord’s going to do with your life, son.”
“No, sir.”
“No?” He looked past Sammy at Raul.
“Samuél’s mother doesn’t like the things of God. In fact, she forbids them. He came here against her wishes.”
“Well, I’ll be,” he said, sitting back and taking it in. “I’m afraid she may be in for a surprise.”
“What do you mean?” Sammy asked.
“What I mean,” said the preacher, leaning his barrel-like body in towards Sammy. “Is that when God puts a call on a man’s life, there’s not much anyone can do about it. Not even a mama.”
The next morning, Gabriella was up before the sun. She’d been awake most of the night thinking about how Sammy had gone to the revival without her permission, and after the restless night, she believed she knew what caused his uncharacteristic disobedience. “Sammy,” she called. “Get up so you can have breakfast before Raul gets here.”
“Okay, mom.” Sammy lay still for a moment, preparing for the day. The night before when he and Raul had driven up to the house, his mom and Mona had been waiting for them. Mona immediately gave his mom a hug and then walked to her car, calling out to Raul that she’d see him at home.
His mom had stood on the porch waiting, hands on her hips. Sammy had looked to Raul for help, but he looked just as scared as he was. “Here goes,” Sammy mumbled under his breath.
“Vaya con Dios,” Raul whispered.
His mom waited until he reached the porch and then reached out to hug him firmly. “I was worried about you, Sammy.”
He hugged her back tightly. “I’m really sorry Mom, but—”
“—We’ll talk about it in the morning,” she said as she pulled away. “Now, go get a shower and get in bed. You and Raul start in the grove early tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He turned to go inside, confused because his mom was acting so calm. He had expected her to scream at him, or at least be crying when he got home because he had scared her. But instead, she’d hugged him. On the way into the house he’d turned around to tell her he was sorry but saw that she’d gone to Raul’s truck to talk to him. And now she was calling him for breakfast just like everything was fine. Was his punishment coming now?
He pushed out of bed and pulled on some clean clothes. He began straightening his room by putting away some clothes in the dresser and books on the shelf. Anything to delay what was coming.
“Sammy!” she called again from the kitchen. “Your cinnamon rolls are ready!”
Sammy dropped the book he’d been holding. Cinnamon rolls? She fixed my favorite breakfast? What in the world is going on?
Cautiously, he made his way toward the table. “They smell really good, mom.”
“Thank you.” She brought a steaming plate of doughy rolls to the table. “Let me get you some cold milk to go with these.”
Sammy looked at her closely. Even though she was smiling and pretending everything was okay, he could see that it wasn’t. Her face looked tight, like it did when she was mad, and the dark circles under her eyes looked like someone had colored black smudges on her face. But what really stood out were her eyes. He peered into them, but no matter which angle he looked at them from, the light he’d seen in other people’s eyes last night wasn’t there.
“Sammy, why are you looking at me like that?”
He shrugged and took an enormous bite out of his roll. “Yummy. These are great, mom.”
She settled in across from him and folded her hands on her lap.
Here it comes, he thought.
“Sammy, I want to apologize.”
He dropped his roll and the sticky orange glaze glopped onto his forearm. He quickly picked up the roll and licked the glaze off his arm. “You what?”
She got up, ran a dishtowel under the warm water, and handed it to him. “I said I want to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For not being the kind of mom I should b
e.”
He was about to respond, but she held up her hand. “Hear me out, Sammy. At first, I was very angry about what you did yesterday, but then I thought about why you did it.”
“Mom, I—“
“—Now, Sammy, you can have your turn when I’m finished speaking, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I realized that the only way you would do something so dishonest is if you were searching for something you felt was missing.”
“Exactly!”
She nodded and smiled. “So that’s why I want to apologize. Ever since your dad died, I’ve been so caught up in my own grief and confusion, and, well… I just haven’t been a very good mother to you. But all that’s going to change now, I promise. I’ll go back to being my old self, and you can put aside this God thing.”
“Put aside God?”
She nodded. “Really, Sammy. I know you were missing something in your life, but I’m telling you, I’m going to be a better mom. You’ll, see. Everything will be okay again.”
Sammy sat stunned for a moment. “Mom, you think I went to the revival to learn about God because you’ve been sad about dad?” His face twisted in confusion.
“That’s right.” She got up and carried his now empty plate to the counter.
“But mom, there’s something you don’t understand.”
“Oh good, here’s Raul now,” she said, looking out the window. “Take out the trash on your way out, okay?”
“Mom?”
“Yes?” she asked as she washed the breakfast dishes.
“Only God can fill up the hole in a person’s heart. And mine got filled last night.”
Sammy took out the trash like his mom asked him to. It was pretty obvious his last remark had shaken her up, and she wanted to be alone with Raul. He was sure they were talking about him.
As he lifted the bag to put it in the outside garbage can, he spotted a big brown book in the bottom of it. What’s this? He punched a hole in the bag near the book and pulled it out. A Bible? He opened the front cover and gasped at what he saw. His dad’s name. On a Bible. His dad’s Bible. He found his dad’s Bible! He scraped away the clinging trash and hugged it close to his chest, feeling like he’d found the best treasure in the world. But wait… why was it in the trash?
He looked back toward the house and the only person who could have thrown it away, and very slowly, a terrifying question crept into his mind. What happens to people who die without asking Jesus to fill the hole in their heart?
Sammy joined Raul and his mom in the grove as soon as he’d hidden the Bible underneath the front porch. He had vague memories of his dad reading it after he got sick. He used to call it “The Word of God.” Sammy wondered if it held the answers to his many questions.
“We’re over here, Samuél!”
He made his way toward the first row in the grove where Raul and his mom were busy clearing rocks and limbs from the path. After picking up some of the debris, Sammy added it to the growing pile. He tried to catch Raul’s attention, and after a few tries, the man looked his way. Sammy pointed to his mom, who was carrying a load of limbs to the pile, and whispered, “She doesn’t understand! She thinks it’s her fault I went to the revival!”
“Yes,” Raul whispered. “We must pray.”
Pray? Sammy thought. About that? Would God really be interested in a prayer about a misunderstanding between me and my mom? He thought back to when he’d emptied out his heart to God in prayer and how good it had made him feel. He wasn’t sure if it was the proper way to pray, but he decided to give it a try and carried on a conversation with God while he worked.
After a few hours, Gabriella declared it was time for a break and they each plucked an orange and sat down on the old wooden trailer.
“There is nothing in the world like the smell of a sweet orange,” said Raul. “It’s one of the reasons I refused to let this grove die after you left.”
Gabriella nodded, enjoying her own cool, fragrant orange. “I can’t imagine how much harder it was to maintain when the grove was twice this size.”
“The orange grove used to be bigger?” asked Sammy.
“Yes, it did. But a fire broke out and destroyed half of it when I still lived here as a child.”
“What started the fire?”
Gabriella shrugged. “I don’t think anyone ever knew. It was an accident of some sort.”
Raul raised his eyebrows. “Is that what you think?”
“You don’t?”
He sighed deeply, and then slowly shook his head. “I don’t really have the answer, but there was a lot of talk after the fire. Some people believe Hector Mendez is the person who burned down the grove.”
Gabriella sat up straighter. “Hector Mendez? The man who owns the bank in town?”
“Yes.”
“But why would he burn down the grove?”
“People said he did it because of the tankers.”
“The tankers? I don’t understand.”
Raul ate the last segment of his orange, then leaned back on his hands. “You understand that this was just the talk in the village? I don’t know what really happened.”
She nodded, urging him on.
“Many people were angry about the support your father rallied against the tankers. The people who wanted the tankers to dock here were excited because if Rendición became a port city, it would grow and that meant more jobs and more opportunities for business. It meant building new houses, opening more shops, and the people who lived here would sell more of their produce and products.”
“And as a banker, I guess Hector Mendez stood to gain financially more than anyone else.”
“Yes.”
“But that’s one thing I don’t understand, Raul. Why was my father so opposed to the growth? Surely he was concerned about more than how the docks would affect the look of the coastline.”
Raul nodded. “Yes, there was more to it than that. He talked about two reasons for opposing the tankers. The first was the issue of the environment. The oil tankers had a history of polluting the areas where they docked, and your father didn’t like the idea of that. But it wasn’t only the natural pollution he feared.”
“What else was he worried about?”
Raul looked at Sammy, then down at his shoes. “Your father said the pollution wouldn’t just be limited to the environment.” He looked at Gabriella. “Are you sure you want to know?”
She nodded.
Raul hesitantly continued. “As you can imagine, when the tankers docked in a port, they brought more with them than just pollution and potential oil spills. Many of the men on such ships led a certain lifestyle.” He glanced in Sammy’s direction and then put his hands over the boy’s ears to keep him from hearing. “In the other port cities many bars, liquor stores and houses of prostitution popped up. And of course, that caused the crime to go up, too,” he whispered.
“I’m almost eleven, you know.” Sammy said indignantly. Raul took his hands off of his ears.
Gabriella patted Sammy’s leg and then tossed aside her orange peel. “I guess I can understand my father’s concerns. It just sounds awfully…”
“Christian?”
Gabriella’s head snapped up. “What are you saying, Raul?”
“Gabriella,” he said, his voice soft and careful. “There are many things you do not know.”
“My parents were not Christians.”
“Not at first, no.”
She stubbornly shook her head, stood up and walked away. She hadn’t gone far when she spun around, her petite body trembling with emotion. “I will not have you smear the memory of my parents. They were good, decent people, not fools who believed in fairy tales.”
“Not fools, no,” he said gently. “But people who had come to believe in God and His morals.”
Gabriella stared at him, her dark eyes burning. “If that were true, I would have some memory of it.”
He shrugged. “Of this I do not know. I’m only tel
ling you what I saw and heard.”
She stood there for a while until the anger passed, and then she cautiously took her place at the end of the trailer. “I’m sorry, Raul. I’m not upset with you, but you must be remembering wrong.”
He smiled, his teeth dingy in the sun. “It’s okay.”
“Please, tell me more about Hector Mendez. Why do some people think he burned down our grove?”
Raul nodded, thankful she wasn’t angry with him. “On the day the tankers were scheduled to dock here for the first time, Hector planned a grand welcoming party for the crew. He set up booths with food and drinks, and a large crowd of people who supported the tankers gathered for the celebration. It was supposed to be their victory party because they were sure they had won the fight.”
“But my father and his supporters thwarted them by jumping into the sea so the tankers couldn’t dock,” she said.
“Yes. And that day Hector swore he would get revenge on your father. The grove was burned the next week.”
Gabriella thought for a moment. “And how much longer after that did my parents disappear?”
“Exactly one month later.”
Gabriella shook her head in disbelief and stood up. “Hector Mendez, huh? Has he been here ever since? He never left?”
“He’s owned the bank the entire time. The only way he’ll ever leave Rendición is through the death.”
She nodded resolutely. “I’m going to make us some lunch. I’ll ring the bell when it’s ready.”
Sammy waited until his mom was out of earshot, and then asked, “Did my grandparents really believe in God?”
“Yes.”
“But how do you know? I mean, if my mom didn’t, how do you?”
“Because Mona and I were working the night your parents had a visitor—a man who came to tell them about Jesus. They tried to tell me about it later, but at the time, I didn’t want to hear it.”
“But why?”
“Because I thought it was a trick.”
“Why?”
“Because the man who came to talk to them about God was an acquaintance of Hector Mendez.”
“But he was a man of God?”
“I do not know about then, but now he is—of this I am sure.”
“How?”
“Because I met him again last night. He is the man called Preacher.”
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Prologue