It hadn't been anything Kevin ever expected: wanting to stay in Africa. But when he returned from his mission, after six months of sleeping in an air conditioned bedroom in his parents' house, with the views of the mountains lined up along his windows, and working in his father's commercial real estate office, and games of basketball with his younger brother on the newly paved driveway, he didn't feel like he could deal with the guilt of being back home. It wasn't that he hadn't missed his family, or even necessarily that he didn't want to be home. Quite the opposite, he relished being driven over smooth roads, and visiting the new movie theatre, shopping at the Gap, his first cheeseburger in two years, and walking through the wide aisles of the grocery store. But he couldn't sleep at night, and he knew what it was.
Kevin flipped through the glossy magazine Jimmy McKinley had sent him. His former mission leader was setting up an AIDS orphanage in South Africa and was trying to get some of the missionaries to help. He glanced over at the acceptance letters from BYU and the University of Utah on his desk. His parents had been so proud and bought him a new watch when he got the news. His mom cooked a huge meal for the whole family that rivaled Thanksgiving or Christmas. Kevin couldn't remember the last time he saw her so happy.
The conversation about leaving again wasn't easy. His father clenched the back of the kitchen chair, and his face got red, and he pulled his lips in while nodding his head a lot. Kevin couldn't help but wonder if this is what he would look like when he was older.
"Kevin, I understand you're an adult now and all, but I just want you to think about your education. You can go to Africa after you've graduated."
"Dad, you went to Michigan for your mission. It's different."
"I know you've seen some things…"
"Things I can't forget."
"I know it's hard."
Kevin shook his head, "This is something I have to do. I have friends out there. And if I decide to go to school and become a doctor, this could be a really useful experience."
His father nodded and looked up, "Well, if this is what you really want. You will need to pay for it on your own."
"This is what I want."
"Then I want this for you."
His mother, who had been sitting silently at the kitchen table got up and hugged him.
"I'm sorry, I'll just miss you," she whispered.
"I know, mom. You don't have to apologize."
"I want you to be safe."
"I will. You've been through this before."
She sighed and slid her arm around his father.
"Your brothers and sisters will miss you."
"I know."
"And your nieces and nephews."
He nodded.
"And your cousins and grandparents."
"I know."
"And the dogs."
He smiled, "They'll be okay."
She gripped his arm again and hugged him, this time tears came streaming down her cheeks and it broke him to feel her gripping him. He imagined she might have reacted a similar way, even if he was just going to college in August.
Two weeks later, he was sitting in the airport with his bags, listening to some music and staring out at the planes on the runway. He stocked up on some food at the convenience stores and used an American bathroom for the last time. Nobody here would call an airport bathroom a luxury except for him.
The plane ride was longer than Uganda by several hours. He had a layover in Spain, then Kenya. He could have sworn he slept for thirty hours. Finally, the ocean stretched out beneath him and the captain announced that they were circling the Johannesburg airport. He couldn't help but grin uncontrollably.
McKinley was waiting for him at baggage claim.
"Price!" He grinned and gave Kevin a hug.
"Hey! It's so good to see you!"
"Likewise! Yeah, thank you so much for coming. We can really use all the support we can get."
"Of course!" Kevin smiled and slid his bag over his shoulder, "Is it a lot different than Uganda?"
They walked out into the scorching sun. Kevin had forgotten how unbelievably hot it was. He slid his hair back and could feel the drips of sweat starting to trickle down the back of his neck.
McKinley opened up the mission jeep for Kevin to load his bags in the trunk.
"It is, yeah. Did you hear Cunningham is still in Kampala? He's filming mission videos for a website before the wedding with Nabulungi."
"I did hear that. Good to know he's doing well," Kevin smiled and then laughed, "So he finally learned how to pronounce her name right?"
Jimmy laughed loudly, "Yeah, it only took him about six months."
He climbed into the jeep and looked over at McKinley, whose cheeks were now pink and who was beginning to sweat.
"I forgot about the heat," Kevin said.
McKinley nodded and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He opened the windows and started driving through Johannesburg.
"So, one of the main differences about South Africa is that parts of Johannesburg are obviously much more developed than Kampala. There's less of an issue with tribal violence than with Kony in Northern Uganda."
"Is the development good or bad?"
Jimmy nodded, "It can be both. There are more hospitals here, and many more doctors. There's just more access to supplies for schools and community centers. But there's also a big drug problem and there's a lot of child trafficking that goes on that is just…it's honestly just hard to watch and not be able to stop it on our own. Truck drivers are a big problem with the underage prostitution and AIDS is still an enormous concern here. The truck drivers have actually been a target for AIDS prevention because they are one of the groups that spreads the disease so wide."
"And so, at the orphanage and the school, the children are being raised Mormon?"
"They are, yeah. We are very lucky with the community that we were placed in. There's some violent crime, but the community leaders were really reaching out for help and that's how we ended up there. They really wanted the church to come."
"How amazing," Kevin said. Jimmy smiled.
The jeep wove around deep bends, through the white short stacked buildings of the city, through workers building skyscrapers and coca cola trucks being unloaded and past a vast market under a highway where kids were playing with an under-inflated basketball. Kevin thought of Thomas, his youngest brother. The night before he left, they played basketball until it got dark. Thomas, who was nine, still couldn't understand how to do a proper lay up.
"Why do you keep messing it up?" Kevin asked, holding the ball on his hip.
Basketball had been so easy for him when he was Thomas' age. Kevin had grown up on the all-star teams and church leagues and later played varsity in high school. Their father played at BYU and Kevin was expected to do the same.
Thomas wiped his face on his shirt, but didn't answer. Kevin could see his eyes were wet.
"Oh come on, you're not actually crying are you?"
"No, it's just hot out here."
"Look, I'm sorry."
"I don't suck."
"I didn't say that."
Thomas shook his head and walked up the steps to the deck and then slammed the door. Kevin could see his father watching him from the kitchen. And then his mother's arm around Thomas, and then her eyes on him. He sat out on the deck for a few minutes, looking at the shape of the mountains in the distance. And for a second, he questioned his decision to leave.
"Is it true there are a lot of car jackings here?" Kevin asked.
McKinley nodded, "Yeah, we have to be really careful of that. I try to come only during the day, but … and I don't want to scare you, because I remember your first night in Uganda, when you got robbed, but we kind of expect it at this point, that things will be stolen or…you just have to prepare yourself to have a gun in the face at some point. We do a training on it for new recruits. And we actually have some elders on a mission right now visiting us."
Kevin nodded. He felt oddly prepared, considering what he had been through before. No big deal, he thought. He had stared down a general pointing a gun at him before, and could remember the rush of the incident with pinpoint clarity. His head had gotten remarkably hot that night, like all of the blood had rushed behind his temples, and he truly felt that he had been channeling a power that would protect him. It wasn't to say that he wouldn't be scared, but Kevin felt like he was pretty good at conflict resolution.
Jimmy pulled into dirt parking lot next to the church.
"Here we are," he said, turning off the ignition and unbuckling his seat belt.
Kevin smiled and got out of the car. Several of the guys from his mission, and several of the kids from the school, were outside with a "Welcome, Kevin Price!" banner.
Kevin laughed, "What's this?"
Jimmy smiled, "A welcome committee!"
Kevin grinned as he hugged the former missionaries that he hadn't seen in months and introduced himself to the unfamiliar faces. There was William Campbell, Ryan Jackson, Graham Wickham, and Neil Clayton. There were several children who were running in between them. A radio had been propped up on a folding table, and one of the older men was grilling meat on a charcoal grill.
"I hope you like goat," McKinley joked.
Kevin laughed, remembering it from his mission, "Oh I think I've missed the taste."
He looked out over his new home, a town that stretched for four or five blocks and then blended into tall grass and baobab trees, and the red dirt beneath his shoes, and the glint of the sunset on the windows of the mud homes, and the smiles on the faces of everyone at the party. This was just what he had wanted, and he felt blessed to be there.
McKinley brought him a plate with goat meat and rice covered in a thick sauce and some fruit punch. They sat on a short brick wall while a handful of kids came over to talk to them.
"Hi," one of the boys, who was about four said, while sucking his thumb.
"Hi!" Kevin smiled.
"Hi," a girl said, shaking his hand.
"Are you guys having fun?" Kevin asked the group, as he took a bite of goat meat.
They all quietly nodded and smiled. The youngest laughed and leaned against his knee, staring into his cup of fruit punch.
"That's Jeremiah," Jimmy said, handing the child a small carton of milk.
Kevin nodded and wiped some sauce from his chin. As the children started to get bleary eyed and tired, a group of girls from the town a few of older LDS members brought them inside the orphanage to put them to sleep. Jimmy and Kevin walked down a row of the mud houses to a larger building on the outskirts. Kevin could now make out a chain link fence in the distance, and a few men standing guard.
"Is that normal?" He asked.
"Oh, the guards? Yeah. There was…a few years ago, there was a doctor kidnapped from here. UNICEF has a food program and medical clinic here and they employ a few security guards to watch over the town."
Kevin breathed a little easier. The air was cooling down and he could hear a few birds in the distance making calls to one another. The stars were starting to pop out in the sky and it was one of his favorite things, to see the scar so untarnished by the lights of a city. It reminded him of home; in Utah you could drive twenty minutes, maybe less outside the city, and see the sky in a similar way. McKinley opened the door into makeshift dormitory.
"So, we basically have two guys to a room right now. I put you with me, just to make things easier, because I've had my own room for a few months now."
"That's great!" Kevin put his bags down on his bed and slid his fingers through his hair, "I'm pretty exhausted actually, I should sleep."
McKinley nodded, "Yeah, me too. Well, we're happy you're here and thank you so much again for coming."
Kevin smiled, "I'm just happy to be here."
He laid back in the cot, still in his clothes from the airport, and fell asleep in that moment.