“I have to tell you,” Jessica said to Dawn once their endeavor was well underway, “I don’t cook much. My specialties are Marie Callender’s frozen microwave dinners.” She swatted at a few pesky flies and noticed how it was finally beginning to cool off.
Dawn laughed. “That’s all I know how to make, too. Sometimes I cook scrambled eggs. Oh, and I have made chocolate chip cookies a few times. It’s funny because you should see our kitchen. It’s huge, with all these fancy machines like a pasta maker and a food processor. The joke is, we never use them. My dad and I buy frozen dinners or eat out.”
“That is kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Jessica said.
“I think the weird part is that I remember going to my grandma’s house for dinner when I was little, and she had this tiny kitchen—no dishwasher, no garbage disposal—and I think she had like three pots and one frying pan. She used to make these great meals. She was an awesome cook. And she never owned a microwave or a food processor in her life.”
Jessica laughed and then went hunting until she found a big wooden spoon to stir the sauce. “I can’t say that I’ve ever prepared anything for fifteen people before, either.”
“Sixteen,” Dawn corrected her, batting the flock of tiny mosquitoes away from her face. “Fifteen people were coming on this trip, and then you made sixteen. I’m really glad you came.”
“I think I am, too. It’s so different down here, isn’t it? The people and their way of life. It makes a person do some reflecting.” Out of the corner of her eye, Jessica noticed something over her shoulder. It was Bill’s camera.
“And here, folks, we have one of our famous mystery meals,” Bill said as he zoomed in on the bubbling pot of red sauce.
“It’s only spaghetti,” Dawn said.
“Yeah, that’s what they all say. The question is, what’s in the sauce?”
“Lizard bellies, gopher guts, and rotten bee brains,” Kyle said, stepping into their conversation.
“You’re not too far off in your prediction,” Jessica said, swatting at another fly. She shook her head at the same time, hoping to discourage the mosquito hoard which suddenly showed up, acting as if Jessica’s ears were on their dinner menu. “Where did all these bugs come from?”
“They sleep during the heat of the day and come out when it cools off,” Kyle said.
“Great,” Dawn said. “Which do you prefer? Heat or bugs?”
“Yes, ladies and gentlegerms, that is the question tonight. Which do you prefer? Heat or bugs? Call in now. Our operators are standing by to record your response.” Bill kept talking to himself as he walked toward the girls’ tents, with one eye closed and the other squinting through his camera.
“Does anybody else worry about that guy?” Jessica asked.
“He’s one of a kind,” Kyle said. “I think he’s going to be a game show host when he grows up.”
Kyle came up behind Jessica, leaned over her shoulder, and looked in the pot of sauce. “How’s dinner coming?”
Jessica thought about how she and Kyle, even in the midst of this dirty, primitive setting, could pretend they were in a cozy kitchen of their own. She could lift the wooden spoon up for him to taste the sauce while cupping her hand underneath it to catch any drips. Or she could say, “Go wash up, dear. I’ll light the dinner candles, and you can pour the champagne.” These scenes were all from black-and-white reruns she had watched on Nick at Nite. Images—strong images—in her mind of what a family should be.
Jessica didn’t move. She knew that, if she turned around to look at Kyle, his face would be only inches from hers. “We’re getting there,” she said flatly and then, as Kyle walked away, she drew in a deep breath. She wanted to hold on to that scent of freshly washed skin that Kyle took with him. It was the smell of earth, sweat, and flesh rinsed with Ivory soap. The clean fragrance splashed up first, but in its wake lingered the manly, deeper scent that is earned only by hard work. She had known few men who carried that scent.
“Whoa!” Dawn squawked. The pot of spaghetti noodles had begun to boil over, its white, bubbly starch lava forging a path down the side of the silver pot. “How do you turn this thing off?”
Jessica fiddled with all the knobs on the side until both the burners went out with a puff. “I’d say dinner is ready. Come and get it, you guys!”
“Or should we say, come and regret it.” Bill ventured over with his camera on his shoulder and the gang behind him. “Our cooks tonight do not provide any warranties with the meal, folks. Dine at your own risk.”
That night, once everyone had settled into their tents, Jessica lingered outside, sitting alone on the ice chest. She gazed up at the velvet sky, flecked with iridescent stars, and thought about what she should wish for. She wanted something. She could feel it deep inside. Not something. It was someone.
I wish for Kyle.
But she had Kyle. Or rather, with very little effort she could have Kyle. He had made it clear he was interested in her. But that wasn’t it. Her longing was deeper than that. She had felt this ache many times. In the past, she had called it loneliness. Lately, she thought the ache was part of her mourning over her mother. Tonight it seemed different. When placed up against the experiences she had had these past few days, her longing seemed more intense than ever. Something was not right in her life. Something had been taken from her. And she wanted it back.
From over in the tent area, a zipper ran down its track. In the shadows, Jessica could just make out Teri’s frame stepping out of their tent. She approached Jessica with her flashlight shining a path ahead of her.
“There you are,” Teri said when the light came upon Jessica. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just thinking.”
Teri looked up at the sky. “Wow! Look at all the stars tonight. Did you know that one of those stars was lit for me?”
“Oh, did you send in for that science promotion at school where you pay to have them name the next discovered star after you?” Jessica said.
“No,” Teri said. “I’m talking about a promise God made to Abraham, the patriarch of the Hebrew nation.”
“Right,” Jessica said, not having any idea where Teri could possibly be going with this. “I know who Abraham is.”
“God promised Abraham that his descendants would be as many as the stars in the heavens and as many as the grains of sand on the sea.”
“Are you telling me that you’re actually from a Jewish heritage?” Jessica asked.
“No, no, nothing like that. I’m a believer, a follower of Christ. I’m one of the ones who will receive the blessing of God, the inheritance promised to Abraham. Only I receive it through adoption. I’m not a slave under the law but a daughter, a daughter of the King of this universe.”
Jessica squinted in the darkness, trying to see Teri’s face. “Teresa Moreno, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. Are we on line with the same conversation here?”
“I’m sorry,” Teri said. “It comes from being a pastor’s kid. I grew up with all the Bible lingo, so it seems natural to me. What I’m trying to say is that I know I have eternal life. That’s all.”
Jessica laughed. “That’s all? That’s a pretty bold declaration. I’ve met people three times your age who have searched all their lives and can’t make that claim.”
“They must not know Jesus,” Teri said. “He’s the only way. They simply haven’t been restored—cleansed from their sins and brought back into a right relationship with God.”
“Yeah, well, I guess we all need a right relationship with God,” Jessica said, trying to make this a win-win conversation. “And I guess what you and I need most right now is some sleep.” Jessica rose and began to walk back to their tent.
“Can I say something to you?” Teri asked, hurrying to catch up with Jessica’s long strides.
“I don’t know,” Jessica said, feeling all her defenses rise. “Can you?”
“I’m not very good at saying this the right way,” Teri began. They wer
e now in front of their tent and had stopped before going inside. Teri was speaking softly, yet Jessica wondered if the people in the other tents, particularly Kyle, could hear her. “What I want to say is that maybe it’s time you stopped running away, Jessica. I want you to know God.”
“Well, that certainly is saying it,” Jessica said, bending over to untie her tennis shoes. She took off her dusty shoes and left them outside the tent. Then, unzipping the door, she crawled in first with Teri right behind her.
“That’s all I’ll say about it,” Teri said once they were in their sleeping bags and the flashlight was turned out. “I really care about you, Jess. I don’t want you to go to hell.”
The night was silent except for the distant barking of a dog.
Teri let out a heavy sigh. “That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. I’ve never been good at witnessing.”
“I think we should just get some sleep,” Jessica said.
A thin hush wavered in the air between them.
“I’m sorry,” Teri whispered. “I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt. Please try to hear my heart and not my clumsy words.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jessica said.
“Good night,” Teri said softly.
“Good night.” Jessica was already drifting off as she said the words. She slept until the emaciated rooster decided to use the front mat of their tent as its platform to announce the new day.
“Get out of here!” Jessica yelled, tossing her pillow at the tent door. “What time is it?”
Teri held the travel alarm close to her face and said, “It’s 5:27. Stupid gallo!” she yelled at the rooster.
Jessica rolled over and groaned. “I am so stiff. I don’t think I can move. Why are my arms so sore?”
“All that painting,” Teri suggested. “My neck hurts. Maybe we’ll feel better if we get up and stretch.”
Jessica didn’t feel better stretching. She didn’t feel better after eating, either. When the group gathered in its circle of beach chairs, she sat slouched in her low chair and wrapped her work shirt around her like a blanket. The sky was overcast, a severe contrast to the heat they had battled the day before. It felt like rain.
“We need to get right to work,” Kyle said, keeping an eye on the darkening sky. “My guess is that the roof will take us about two more hours, and we want to seal it before these clouds deliver their goods. You guys remember that first year when it rained for two days straight right before we arrived?”
“I do,” Bill said. “The roads around here turn into giant mud wrestling pits.”
“Could make for some interesting filming,” Joel suggested, tossing his paper plate in the trash bag. A few relentless bees were buzzing around the opening of the bag. “Where is your camera, anyway?”
“It better be in the tent,” Bill said. “Not that I don’t trust all the people in this one-pig town, but I don’t.” He hopped up and went over to his tent. A moment later he emerged victoriously holding up his camera.
“Oh, great,” Brenda, one of the girls, groaned. “Another day with Wild Bill on his imaginary movie set. Do you think reality will ever set in with that guy?”
“I hope not,” Teri said. “He’s too fun the way he is.”
“Yes, well, try going out with him,” Brenda said confidentially. “It’s real funny for the first hour or so. Then you want to be serious, and he doesn’t switch over.” She had short black hair cut in a bob. Her dark eyebrows framed tender gray eyes under eyelashes that would never need the touch of a mascara wand.
“Bill can be serious,” Teri said.
“I’ve never seen it,” Brenda retorted.
“I get the feeling you would like him to be a little more serious about you. Am I right?”
Brenda blushed. “Is it that obvious?”
“No, not to normal people,” Teri said with a comforting smile. “But you see, I’m not normal. I have this bizarre gift of spotting these things a mile away. Come help me clean up the breakfast mess.”
Jessica could hear Teri giving Brenda her advice on guys as they walked arm and arm into the kitchen area. When Teri had something to say, she sure said it.
The rest of the group had already tossed the breakfast dishes and set about the task of finishing the roof on the church. Jessica still didn’t feel well. All she wanted was a nice hot bath. A lukewarm shower, even. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, to keep it out of her face. Dawn had volunteered to braid Jessica’s hair while Jessica was trying to eat her breakfast, but she didn’t feel like having anyone touch her. Not even her hair. She realized she was the only one left in the “dining room,” as they had dubbed it, and was about to uncurl from her huddled position and stand up when she felt a pair of strong hands firmly grasp her shoulders.
“Sore?” Kyle asked.
“Miserably sore,” Jessica answered, allowing herself to relax as Kyle rubbed her shoulders. It felt so good. Her hands started to tingle from the improved circulation, and her headache started to ease up. Suddenly Kyle stopped and took his hands off of her.
“Buenos días, Hermano Cristobal,” Kyle greeted a man dressed in a white shirt and dark slacks coming toward them. Jessica stayed in her seat as the two men shook hands and spoke to each other in Spanish. When they finished, the man nodded at Jessica without making direct eye contact. It was a polite way of acknowledging her presence. Kyle shook hands with Cristobal again, and then the man left. Returning to Jessica, Kyle scratched his neck and said, “That was kind of awkward.”
“What? Did he ask you for something?”
“No, I mean his seeing me touch you was awkward. It’s not acceptable in their culture, especially among the Christians, for a man to touch a woman like that.”
“Like what? You were only rubbing my shoulders, which I appreciated very much. Nothing is sinful about that. Right?”
“Not in our minds maybe. Their culture is different.” Kyle looked embarrassed. “Cristobal is going to deliver a dedication message at the church tonight. I would never want to do anything to offend him.”
Jessica thought Kyle had a lot of integrity to be so concerned about offending the man. And she did understand the importance of honoring cultural differences.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jessica said lightly. “I appreciated the back rub. If you knew how badly I needed it, you would realize that getting me out of this chair and up and going today is probably much more important than what that man thought.”
“You’re really hurting, huh?”
“This is all new for me. I haven’t even been camping before. Not really. Not like this.”
“Then I’m impressed,” Kyle said. From his abundance of camping gear, he obviously was a seasoned pro at living in the outdoors.
Their eyes met. Locked. Jessica could feel her heart being lured out of its wintry isolation and drawn to the warmth she saw in his gaze. She emotionally took one tiny step toward Kyle. He seemed to stand ready, waiting for her to make the next move. Suddenly something inside her turned cold, and she ran behind the cement wall of her lonely soul once more.
“I guess I better get to work on the roof,” Jessica said, her words falling over each other like tumbling dominoes. “Especially if you’re right about the rain. I’ll find a couple of aspirin and be right there.” She walked off toward her tent. Behind her she could feel Kyle’s gaze. He hadn’t moved. Once again Jessica realized that she was the one who was running away.
Chapter Fifteen
What do you think?” Bill asked Jessica as she stood in front of the church and scanned the roof where ten or so students were busy about their tasks.
“What do I think of the church? I think it’s coming along nicely.”
“I think,” Bill began, then stopped and picked up his camera, handed it to Jessica, and said, “get this on film. This is profound.”
Jessica adjusted the lens to her eye and pushed the “on” button.
“I think,” Bill said, stretching out his hand toward t
he church, “that the house that is a-building looks not as the house that is built.”
Jessica pulled the camera down and gave Bill a big smile. “So you did learn something in my class!”
Bill looked proud of himself. “Wait till you see this place tonight. It will look completely different when it fills up with people.”
Bill’s prediction came true. It looked completely different, all right—because it was pouring rain. It had rained continually since around two that afternoon. They had managed to finish the roof and make lunch before the rain came. Kyle spoke with Cristobal, and they decided to hold the dedication service at five instead of seven since the rain didn’t seem to have any inclination to let up.
Kyle then decided they should pack up that afternoon instead of staying one more night in their tents. They would leave the village right after the service and drive back to Calexico where they would find a cheap hotel. No one complained about the possibility of hot showers that night. In record time the group packed up their tents and tossed all the soggy gear into the back of the truck. Everything was a muddy mess.
Teri, Kyle, and several of the students made raincoats out of plastic trash bags and slogged through the village inviting the people to come at five. Jessica stayed inside the church with two girls and tried to sweep out the construction dust and stray nails littering the cement floor.
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.