Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
H awk walked into the clinic the next morning around six thirty. He knew Lexi got up early and was in the clinic by before the sun came up. She’d said not to be a stranger, so he’d waited a day before surprising her.
“Hey, I thought I’d say hi before I started work.” Robert had insisted they start early so they didn’t have to work when the sun turned the clearing into a furnace.
She turned, breaking into a hesitant smile. Not quite a dimple, but close. “Hey. You want a coffee? I was about to have one.”
“Yeah, please.”
He set two mugs on the table, and she filled them up from the coffee pot. “Your timing’s perfect.”
He grinned. “That was my plan.”
They took them outside and sat on two rickety chairs on the porch, overlooking the clearing. It was early enough that the sun hadn’t warmed the ground up yet, and a low mist unfurled at the base of the trees at the edge of the clearing. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and the faint mustiness of wet vegetation.
“It’s going to be another brutally warm day,” Lexi mused, gazing up at the pale blue sky devoid of clouds. A lone hawk floated on the air currents, scouting for breakfast.
“It doesn’t seem to bother you too much,” he remarked.
“You get used to it. When I first got here, I was melting. Now I’ve acclimatized, so it doesn’t bother me as much.”
In the distance, the call of awakening birds pierced the low hum of the jungle. Near the gorilla enclosure, workers were gathering, steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee in hand, chatting quietly as they prepared for the day ahead.
Everyone was on schedule.
A squad of UN soldiers loitered nearby, rifles slung over their shoulders. Their daily escort had become routine. The locals refused to walk through the rebel-controlled areas without protection, and Hawk had no problem footing the bill for their safety. Not that it made him feel much better about the situation. It burned him that these people—just trying to eke out a living—had to pay for what should have been a basic right: security. But Africa didn’t work like that.
This country played by its own rules, he’d learned that from many hours conversing with Robert at the Lodge. Local warlords and rebels controlled entire regions, using their power to exploit resources, extort taxes, and enslave workers.
Here, in the shadow of one of the region’s largest tin mines, the tension between government forces and rebel factions was palpable. Usala Park, with its endangered wildlife and hopeful sanctuary, often found itself in the crossfire. It was a fragile ecosystem in every sense of the word.
They chatted for a while, mostly about their respective schedules for the day, then Hawk downed what was left of his coffee. “I’d better get to work.”
“Sure, me too.”
The laborers began to stir, finishing their coffee and gathering tools. Nearby, a group of boys played with sticks and an old tire, their laughter cutting through the quiet morning. Hawk smiled, he loved the sense of community at the sanctuary.
Moyo, the boy he’d spoken to the other day came running over. He was clutching the pocketknife he’d given him. “Mister Hawk, you ready for work?”
He grinned. “Yeah, buddy. I sure am.”
Lexi smiled, and this time he did see her dimples.
“Catch you later,” he called, as he walked over to join the others.
She waved, and just for a moment, his heart sang.
It was nearly lunchtime when Hawk looked up and saw Lexi come out of the clinic. The sunlight caught the copper tones in her hair, making her appear more nymph-like than ever. She was carrying a tray of iced tea and a plate of sandwiches. He’d been working on building a brick wall, showing Moyo the ropes, so to speak. It was basic, menial work but he was enjoying it. With the sun on his back, the sound of men working all around him, and Moyo beside him, what could be better?
He wiped the sweat from his brow. It was hot though, and he could do with a break and something to eat. Moyo eyed the sandwiches eagerly.
“Time for lunch,” she said, setting the tray down on a pile of bricks.
“Thank you, Miss Lexi,” Moyo said, offering up a shy smile.
“You’re welcome, Moyo.” She smiled at the boy, before turning to him. “How’s it going?”
“Good, we’re making progress.” This would be the back wall of her new office, once it was completed.
“I’m learning how to build a wall, Miss Lexi,” Moyo said proudly.
“I can see that. Excellent work.”
He beamed and reached for a sandwich.
“It’s very hot out here,” she said, glancing up. The sun was nearly at its zenith, while the humidify had once again risen to crazy levels.
“Yeah, I know. We’ll break at two, and then start again at six, once it’s not so powerful.”
She nodded at Moyo and shot him a pointed look.
“Hang on,” he murmured, and disappeared into the makeshift office that they used as a base for the construction. When he returned, he was holding a baseball cap. He crouched down, handing it to Moyo. “Here. This’ll keep the sun off your head.”
The boy’s face lit up as he turned the cap over in his hands, his fingers brushing the embroidered logo. “What does it say?”
“It’s the Yankees,” Hawk said with a grin. “My favorite baseball team. Now you look like a real fan.”
Moyo grinned wide and popped the cap onto his head, adjusting the brim until it sat just right.
Lexi’s smile was thanks enough.
“I’d better get back,” she said, gesturing to the clinic.
“Thanks for lunch,” he called after her.
Hawk and Moyo ate their sandwiches, sitting in some shade at the edge of the clearing. Moyo adjusted his new cap, glancing up at Hawk.
“Miss is a very nice lady,” he said in French.
Hawk replied in kind. “Yeah. She is.”
“She helps me a lot,” the boy continued, his tone serious. “She told me not to go to the rebels.”
Hawk froze, his glass halfway to his lips. “The rebels?”
Moyo stared down into his drink. “They take boys like me. Teach us to fight, to be soldiers. I don’t want to, but sometimes we have no choice.”
Hawk’s jaw tightened. The boy’s words struck him harder than he expected. He’d read about child soldiers, seen the headlines and the reports, but hearing it from Moyo, a kid he’d come to know, made it real in a way he wasn’t prepared for.
“She’s right. You don’t have to go with them,” he said firmly. “You’ve got a choice, Moyo. You’re good with your hands. You can stay here, learn a trade. Be like your dad.”
Moyo’s expression darkened. “My father is dead.”
Hawk exhaled, unable to prevent the surge of anger. The injustices of this place—the things these kids were forced to endure—were staggering. He’d thought he’d seen it all, but this was something else.
As they sat in silence, Hawk’s gaze drifted back to the clinic porch where Lexi was setting down a bowl of water for the stray dogs that had taken up residence at the sanctuary. Always thinking of others, always putting herself second.
It wasn’t just her kindness, although that was part of it. It was her strength. Her ability to thrive in this brutal, unforgiving place. He admired her. The thought shocked him. He didn’t admire many people, but she was an exception.
“So,” Moyo said, breaking his thoughts, “back to work?”
Hawk glanced down at the boy and nodded. “Back to work.”
Together, they walked back to the site, the sun climbing higher overhead.