"I'm sorry about your parcel," Jorge said. "It must have contained something very valuable."
The story of her two attempts to get tetracycline to Mateo poured forth. She fought back tears as she spoke. She finished by saying, "Now more people will die."
"The Lord has a plan," Jorge said.
"Some plan! Give me a life saving drug, have me carry it to within ten miles of the dying, and then let it be taken from me and destroyed?"
"The Lord works in mysterious ways."
"I'm sorry, Jorge, but I'm not a believer."
"That you do not believe doesn't make it any less true," Jorge said.
Sheila had argued many such questions with her brother to no end. He had the gift of faith. She did not. No point in one trying to change the other. She turned away from Jorge and rested her head against the hard frame of the window. They bounced along the highway in silence while others on the bus chattered and animals squawked. The view continued to be spectacular and stretched away a hundred mile or more. Shadows of clouds still scuttled across the valley with its crazy quilt of farms. In stead of comforting her, the beauty of the Colombian mountains and valleys depressed her. She was mad at God for creating such a beautiful place and then letting such a terrible thing happen in it.
The bus jerked to a halt and the driver called, "Mateo."
"Mateo," Jorge tapped her on the shoulder, "This is where you get off."
Sheila said, "No!"
Jorge pointed to an old wooden sign next to a rutted dirt road leading down and away from the highway. It said Mateo and La Capilla de Nuestra Senora de los Andes de Milagros. Sheila thought, too bad Our Lady of the Andes and her miracles hadn't been around when the bandits stopped the bus.
"Mateo," the bus driver called impatiently.
"I can't show up without the tetracycline," Sheila said. "Please tell the driver I'm not getting off."
"You've come all this way. I'm sure your brother would want you to visit, with or without the medicine."
"No," Sheila said firmly.
Jorge spoke to the driver and the bus creaked forward.
As it rounded the next curve, Sheila saw an unmistakable, tall, and slim figure walking along side the highway with a group of kids. She ducked down in her seat so that only her eyes were above the bottom ledge of the window.
Tom wore the old fashioned long, black robe of his calling. The fabric was light cotton and the garment was much cooler, he'd written than the modern shirts and trousers of city priests. He raised his hand and the bus driver pulled over. Sheila ducked down as far as she could. Tom stepped onto the bus and spoke to the driver.
"He's asking the driver if there is a box from the states for the doctor," Jorge whispered.
Oh God, Sheila thought, please don't let the driver or anyone else say anything. She held her breath. They talked for a moment longer and then her brother said, "Gracia."
Sheila sat up and peeked out the side window. Tom stepped down onto the side of the road. Children surrounded him. There was lots of chatter with her brother shaking his head and shrugging. "Manana. Manana," he said. The bus eased forward. Tom made the children step back out of harms way.
His face was very thin, but his belly bulged under his robe. The paunch, she thought. He wore the high tech looking sunglasses she'd sent him to protect his left eye which had been injured in a wrestling accident. He'd been worried that the damage might keep him from studying to be a priest. The crucifix, carved from dogwood, that the family - even Richard had chipped in - had given him when he took his vows, hung around his neck. Tom raised a rather beat up flop hat just as she rolled by. His head cocked to one side in question, as he'd always done when he was little.
Sheila closed her eyes. When she opened them, the bus was beyond the little group. She looked out the back window. Tom had stepped onto the highway and stood watching. He raised his hands up, yet another of his gestures asking a question. A single tear rolled down one of her cheeks. She regretted that she wasn't able to make herself stop and visit. But she couldn't show up empty handed, not when lives depended on her bringing medicine. She'd have to find a way to get another box and to get it to Doctor Neill without fail. Nothing else mattered.
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