“You spoke to my mother?”
“I did, and she’ll call back in the morning, around seven. She’s using a nurse’s phone. They will call your cell.”
Samuel breathed deeply and wiped his cheeks. A long minute passed before he said, “Okay, and the bad news.”
“Your brothers are with her and everyone appears to be healthy. However, Angelina didn’t make it.”
“Didn’t make it? What happened to her?”
“She was taken away by rebel soldiers when they burned the village.”
“No!” Samuel bent over, rested his elbows on his knees, and covered his face again. The emotions came in waves as his body shook and he kept whispering, “No, no, no.”
Murray, Ecko, and Lonnie glanced at each other then studied the floor as the long minutes passed. There was nothing to say, nothing to do but sit and be there for support. They could not begin to imagine the horror of what Samuel and his family were going through. In a file, Ecko had some paperwork for each of his players and he knew that Angelina’s sixteenth birthday had been September 2.
Whether she lived to see it could not be known. Ecko had doubts, as did Samuel. The killing was so casual, the atrocities so unspeakable, it was difficult to believe that the enemy would have much use for the girl after a while.
“I should’ve been there,” he finally whispered.
Coach Britt stepped out of his office to make sure the locker room was empty. When he returned, he said, “Let’s go to my house. Agnes is cooking dinner and my kids would like to see you, Samuel.”
* * *
·?·?·
His phone rang with an international call at 7:04 the following morning. Samuel was staring at it, waiting. He’d been awake for an hour, though he had slept little. Murray was dressed and sitting on his bed, waiting too.
A pleasant lady with a slight accent identified herself as Christine, and when Samuel said hello she handed the phone to Beatrice Sooleymon.
When Samuel said, “Mother, is it really you?” Murray eased by him, patted his shoulder, and left their dorm room.
They talked for twenty minutes. As difficult as it was, Samuel wanted to know what happened that night in Lotta, and Beatrice, through many tears, told the whole story. She wasn’t sure what had happened to Ayak but she feared the worst. Samuel confirmed that his body had been identified by government troops. Beatrice took it as well as could have been expected. She’d been almost certain of it anyway. She described how they took Angelina, then their flight away from the village, the days and days of travel with no food and water. But they were in a better place now, safe and surrounded by good people who wanted to help each other. She wanted to know all about his new college and life in America, and, well, everything he was doing. They cried a lot but also managed a laugh or two. Samuel wanted to go home, to reunite with his family, to somehow rescue them, but it was not possible. He asked what he could send them, but Beatrice said she wasn’t sure. Maybe later. Maybe if and when they were given a more permanent residence he could send packages.
From his research, Samuel knew there were people who had fled his country with nothing and had been living in the settlements for many years. Most lived in harsh, unsanitary conditions with barely enough food to survive. Violence was rare, but disease was common and spread by raw sewage, dirty water, and contaminated food. Efforts to provide education were hamstrung by a lack of facilities and teachers. Dozens of aid groups from around the world labored heroically in the camps and settlements.
The more Samuel had read, the more discouraged he became. They had lost their home, many of their friends and family, and their way of life.
As he talked to his mother, he could almost feel the strain of hopelessness in her voice. In two months her world had been rocked and violated, and there was no going back. He realized that he was her bright spot, and it would be his challenge to lift her spirits. When it was time to go, he chatted with the French woman, Christine, and was told he could call her number once a week. They agreed that every Wednesday at 7 a.m. eastern time would be the chosen hour. Beatrice and her boys would appear outside the tent hospital and Samuel would call from America. Christine warned that the cellular service was not always reliable.
* * *
·?·?·
He stuck his phone in his pocket and left the dorm. He had no desire to talk to Murray or anyone else. He needed time alone to think about Angelina and grieve. He took a long walk around the campus and sat for an hour on a park bench as the university came to life. Classes were not important. Basketball could wait. He would call T. Ray and get excused from work.