Sarah's Birthday and Trouble
"Sarah, I think there's something wrong with the calendar."
Turning to face her husband, Sarah frowned. "What's wrong with it, Michael?" she asked, dusting the bookshelf in her office at the church.
"Well, it says that you're working Saturday."
"Is that a problem? You know January is a busy month here, since so many people move at the beginning of the year. We don't have a big enough staff."
Michael sighed. "I know that, and having too many people to welcome and not enough staff to welcome them is a wonderful problem to have, but your birthday is on Saturday."
"Michael don't worry. I won't be working all day, just in the morning, to interview that woman who applied for the job to lead the all-girl youth group. We already had one, but Pastor Marsh decided youth group shouldn't be co-ed anymore, so, we need a group leader for the girls, since his brother will be working with the boys."
"Alright. Just don't get stuck here afterwards helping old Maurice hang the new paintings that were donated to the church. He needs the exercise, don't let him guilt you into doing his dirty work on your birthday."
Maurice, the aging janitor/handyman of Christ Church of Colorado came around the corner near Sarah's office and gave them the stick eye. "Hey, watch your mouth, Michael. The Lord's listening to you rag on an old man."
Properly chagrined, Michael apologized, and Sarah chuckled. She loved her husband, but occasionally, his mouth got him into trouble.
Placing a kiss lightly on his lips, Sarah exited her office to go and check on the kitchen crew ahead of this afternoon's lunch service for the homeless. She appreciated her husband's concern over her working on her birthday, but sharing the love of God with others was her favorite thing to do, and what better day to do what you love than on your birthday.
John Rambo had accomplished many difficult things since joining the military in 1964. He had infiltrated enemy lines countless times, both in and out of the service, survived capture and torture more than once, witnessed some of his closest friends die, occasionally in his arms, and awoken from nightmares so troubled he needed to make weapons to quiet his demons, but something about buying Sarah the perfect birthday present had him more worried than a man with all that experience should be.
Sarah had invited him to her birthday dinner the other day, and pleased that he was being included, John had agreed readily. He had asked Michael, and Sarah for that matter, what to get her for her birthday, and both had insisted his company would be enough. That, and possibly rocking Miracle to sleep if she got cranky. Now, John might have spent fifty-five years alone, or with military buddies, but the eleven years he spent with Maria and Gabrielle had taught him something about manners when it came to being a guest at someone's home. Even if they said his presence would be a gift in and of itself, showing up empty handed was a bad idea.
Which was why he was now standing in front of the local department store, staring at the doors, willing himself inside. The grocery store he could handle. It was small, right near his house, and never very busy. Rambo made sure to go either early in the morning or late at night, to minimize exposure to groups of people and loud noises. However, the department store was bustling with activity, and it was the middle of the day, meaning peak foot traffic time.
With a fortifying breath, Rambo pulled open the doors, and entered the store.
"Hello, welcome to Target. Can I help you with anything today?"
The young, peppy saleswoman came to about Rambo's waist, and stared up at him with big, impressionable blue eyes. Something told him this was her first job, and she was trying extremely hard to be good at it.
"Uhm, I'm looking for a birthday present for my friend Sarah."
She beamed. "Of course! What does she like? Is she just a friend, or something more? Sorry! I shouldn't have asked that; I'm working on my filter. At least I don't swear at work! Oh, my gosh, that would be horrible. Anyway, I'm sure I can help you find something for her. Maybe some perfume? Or maybe you don't know what kind she wears. Ooh! Maybe a nice scarf? It's cold this time of year in Colorado. Although, it's cold this time of year in most places. Except California. Have you ever been to California? I'd love to go one day..."
Feeling the walls closing in on him, or maybe just the sound of this woman's voice, Rambo felt the need to make a hasty retreat, before things got out of hand. That lid he kept his emotions tightly under was losing stability, and the last thing he wanted was for it to pop off completely in the center of Target.
Turning, John headed for the door, ignoring the protests from the saleswoman. Outside, he gulped down the fresh, cold air, and walked quickly from the store, feeling disappointed in himself. How hard was it to walk into a store and buy something for someone he cared about?
His cell phone rang, startling him, and he cursed. Now even his phone was getting to him. "Hello?"
"John? It's Michael. Look, I just wanted to tell you how much it means to Sarah that you're coming over tomorrow night. The bakery just called and let us know that they won't be able to make Sarah's cake because their head baker has the flu, so you being there is going to be even more special now."
Rambo felt terrible that Sarah wasn't going to have a cake, and then got an idea. One that wouldn't necessitate a trip to Target and had him feeling better than before. "I'm glad I can help make her night special." He then hung up after saying goodbye and headed home with a plan.
Halfway home, he ran into Sarah. "Hi, John!"
"Hi, Sarah," Rambo replied with a small, genuine smile. She always seemed to bring those out of him, even when he was feeling overwhelmed.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"Home. I have a plan for something and want to get it done."
Sarah chuckled. "Sounds like you're a man on a mission. I won't keep you."
"Thanks," he said, leaving her to get to his house and put together her birthday present.
After having some lunch and cleaning up his kitchen, Rambo called someone who he knew could help him with his gift idea.
"John!" Maria exclaimed, happy to hear from him.
He smiled at the sound of her voice, feeling a sudden burst of longing to be back on the ranch in Bowie with Maria and Gabrielle. "Hi, Maria."
"Are you alright, John? You sound upset."
Perceptive as ever, Rambo thought with a shake of his head. There was no use keeping things from her. When he'd arrived at his father's ranch in 2008 Maria had taken one look at him, sat him down, fed him, gave him some strong coffee, and managed to weasel his entire life story out of him in under an hour, something no person had done before. He'd told her everything, not sparing her one gory detail of his life of blood and guts and mayhem, and she'd taken it all in without judgement, simply offering him support and love, like the wonderful grandmother she was.
"Not really. I tried to go into Target to buy a birthday gift for Sarah and freaked out."
Maria made a sympathetic sound. "I am so sorry, John. What do you need from me?"
"I was wondering if you could give me your recipe for the cake you used to make for my birthday."
Surprised, but never one to pass down the chance to share her love of cooking with someone, Maria said, "Of course, John. It's a simple recipe. Are you sure Sarah likes Mexican chocolate cake? It does have cinnamon and chili powder in it, so it's spicier than American chocolate cakes."
"Yes, Sarah loves chocolate, and spicy Mexican food... Wait. How did you know the cake was for Sarah?"
Maria rolled her eyes. "You told me you couldn't shop for Sarah at Target, that it was her birthday soon, and asked for the recipe for the birthday cake I used to make you. It's not hard to figure out. I am no idiota."
John laughed. "No, you're not."
"Gracias. Are you sure you can make the cake without help, John?"
He scowled. "Yes, I can make the cake. After all, you insisted on having me help you with it when I lived with you."
"That I did. I'm glad you were paying attention. Good luck, John. Adios."
Rambo said goodbye and hung up, getting to work on the cake.
The next day, Sarah was on her way to the church when John stopped her as she passed his house. "Happy birthday!"
She smiled. "Thanks!"
John was hiding something behind his back, and then he showed her what was in his hand. A beautiful Colorado Mountain Rose, which he gave to her with a smile that transformed his face to about three decades younger than he was.
"Wow! This is beautiful, John. Thank you. I didn't think any flowers bloomed in the winter."
"I didn't either, but I found a cluster of these growing out of a tree stump near the edge of my property yesterday when I was riding my horse. Figured you'd like one on your birthday."
Sarah's heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. Why anyone on her team was ever afraid of him beat her. Underneath all that muscle and toughness was a truly sweet, emotional man.
"Where are you headed?"
"To the church. I've got a meeting with a woman named Gizelle."
Rambo's entire body stiffened, and his jaw ticked. "Gizelle?"
"Yes, why?" Sarah asked, confused as to why he looked ready to hurt something.
John took a deep breath and relaxed his posture. "Nothing. I just knew a Gizelle once, and she wasn't a good person."
"Well, this Gizelle wants to lead our church's female youth group, so I doubt she's not a good person."
Rambo nodded. "I'm sure. The name just brought some stuff up, that's all. Have a good morning, and I'll see you later."
Sarah waved, and continued driving to the church, wondering what the Gizelle John had known had done to him.
"Hi, sorry I'm late, the traffic light on the corner broke and chaos ensued." Sarah said, walking hastily into her office where the young woman sat. She was wearing a red plaid shirt, with black pants and her brunette hair in a bun.
"No worries, I haven't been here long." Gizelle assured her with a wave of her hand.
"Oh, good. So, you would like to apply for the job of leading our female youth group, correct?"
Gizelle nodded. "Yes, I would."
"What about you makes you the right one for the job?"
"Well, I grew up in a religious household, and decided it wasn't for me. Then I got into trouble and fell in with the wrong people. When I got myself out, I turned back to my original religion, and felt this sense of peace inside me. I want to share with young women that it's okay to stumble, as long as you get back up, and ask God for help."
Sarah was impressed with the young woman's candor and smiled. "I received the background check on you yesterday that you agreed to and heard back from the people who fingerprinted you. You checked out, and from what I've heard this morning, I know you're the right one for the job. Welcome aboard."
Gizelle smiled. "Great! You don't gotta worry about me, I'll do a great job. I've led youth groups before, and even took them on field trips. It was a blast."
Happy with that, Sarah shook her hand, and led her out the door.
"I'm sorry if I'm rushing you, but today's my birthday..."
"Woah, today's your birthday? Happy birthday!"
Sarah blushed. "Thank you." She watched Gizelle walk towards a beat up looking car and felt for her. On her application she hadn't listed a residence, so she was more than likely living out of her car.
"Hey! Would you like to come to my house tonight? I'm having a birthday dinner."
Gizelle looked at her, shocked. "You're inviting me to your birthday party? I don't even know you, and I wouldn't want to intrude."
"It's fine! I've already invited my neighbor, so it's not just a family event. Plus, that way you could meet my husband, Michael, who also works at the church. It would be fun! It's my birthday, and I liked celebrating with people. What better way to make you a friend fast?"
Clearly taken aback, but interested, Gizelle agreed. "Alright, if you're sure."
"I am." Sarah said warmly. She wrote down her address and gave it to the younger woman, and then left, feeling happy she'd made a new friend.
"Surprise!" John said, handing Sarah the cake he'd worked on for hours. It was a little lopsided, but he'd given it his best shot. And he knew it tasted great.
Sarah stared at the cake, bemused. "You... you made me a cake?"
"I did. Michael told me the bakery couldn't make you one, and that's not right. I know you told me I didn't have to get you anything, so I made you something. Happy birthday."
She let out a surprised chuckle. "That's so sweet, John. Thank you. I didn't know you knew how to bake."
"I can't make much, but Maria, the woman who lived on my ranch with me, used to make this Mexican chocolate cake for me every year on my birthday and taught me how to make it. I got the recipe from her yesterday."
Shaking her head again at his thoughtfulness, Sarah placed the covered cake in the kitchen, and told Michael what he had done.
"That's fantastic, man. Thanks."
Rambo nodded at Michael. "You're welcome."
Sarah had asked for Chinese takeout for her birthday, and although not as exotic as the bison burgers they sold down the road, Michael was more than happy to make that request a reality for his wife. Rambo also enjoyed Chinese food, so it was a win-win.
Miracle was in her highchair right near Sarah, making goo goo noises and smiling at Rambo.
"Should I be jealous that my baby looks at you like that?" Sarah asked with a smirk.
Rambo shook his head, leaning over to let Miracle wrap her little fingers around his hand. "No. She loves you and looks at you with adoration more than me. I'm just the strange guy from down the road that she can't make sense of."
Sarah knew that Miracle loved him too but didn't want to mention it to John. Sometimes he got touchy about young girls loving him, after what happened to his niece, and she understood.
Suddenly the doorbell rang. "Oh! That must be the woman I met with earlier," Sarah said, springing up to let her in.
Rambo made a face at Michael, who shrugged. "Sarah's never met a stranger."
Sarah welcomed Gizelle inside, and they walked into the dining room together.
"Everyone, this is Gizelle."
Icy cold fury washed through John's body when he looked at Gizelle, the very same Gizelle who had betrayed Gabrielle and orchestrated her abduction.
Gizelle's eyes widened comically when she saw Rambo sitting there, but thankfully, Sarah and Michael both missed it. She nodded hello at them and sat down where Sarah directed.
A silent agreement passed between Rambo and Gizelle as they stared at each other from across the table, that they would have to talk, but not here, not now. Neither wanted the couple to figure out what was going on.
"So, Gizelle. You're going to lead our female youth group, huh?" Michael asked with a welcoming smile. "Sarah tells me you even volunteered to take the girls on some field trips on your own dime. That's so thoughtful of you!"
Rambo nearly choked when he heard that Gizelle was planning on taking a group of young girls away from the safety of the church, but stayed silent, for now.
The evening went off without a hitch, and Rambo could tell Sarah was having a great birthday. That was all that mattered to him, no matter how badly he wanted to shove Gizelle against the wall and demand to know why she was there.
After eating the delicious cake John had made, Sarah thanked them for coming, and stood up to bring the dishes into the kitchen, much to Michael's protest.
"I'll walk you to your car." Rambo grit out at Gizelle.
She shook her head. "No, that's okay..."
"It's late, and you're not from here. I'll walk you out." He repeated, his tone deadly.
Gizelle nodded slowly, and they left the house. Once they were far enough away, Rambo spoke.
"You're going to take those girls somewhere and they'll never return, aren't you."
She flipped her hair with a haughty air. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure, you do. Why else would someone like you be interested in leading a female youth group? Complete and total access to a bunch of pure, untouched girls."
Gizelle scoffed. "No, man. I'm just trying to reach young women and help them find their way."
"Find their way into a trap," he added for her, "you've done this before, haven't you. Traveled to a different state, cozied up to a group of young women at a church, taken them on a 'trip' and then disappeared, after they were captured. Sound about right?"
She didn't deny it, which made Rambo's blood boil. "You need to leave. Leave Colorado, leave Sarah and Michael and their church out of this."
"Or what?" Gizelle countered, unafraid. "You'll hurt me real bad? Give it up, old man. I was scared of you before, sure, but then I realized you were all bark and no bite. Just like Gabrielle."
John let out an angry sound and advanced on Gizelle, backing her up against her car. He was mere inches away from inflicting pain when he saw the light go on in Sarah's living room and paused. He knew from being inside her house that you couldn't see the driveway well from that room, especially in the dark, but he didn't want to cause a problem.
Gizelle saw him backing down and chuckled. "Just like I thought. See you around, viejito." She said, getting into her car. She paused, and then added in a quiet voice, "I think I'll take Sarah's youth group to the mountains in a few weeks, maybe let them see some really cool stuff that they might just get taken... by."
Rambo ground his teeth together. "I'm warning you, back off."
"Or what? You can't call the cops and explain who I am without letting on what you did to the Martinez cartel back in Arizona. Which I doubt you want to do. Bye!"
He watched her drive off, squeezing his hands into fists and rolling his shoulders back.
Re-entering the house, John smiled at Sarah, who was sitting on her couch, slowly rocking Miracle in her arms. He could just make out the silhouette of Michael in the dining room, putting the birthday candles away.
"Hey," Rambo said quietly, not wanting to disturb Miracle.
Sarah smiled softly. "Hey yourself. Thanks for making my birthday special, and for making a cake."
"You're welcome." Rambo replied, taking a seat across from her.
Sarah regarded him closely, and then said, "That was her, wasn't it. The Gizelle you knew."
He nodded slowly, easing back into the chair with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, that was her. How'd you know?"
"Oh, you did a good job trying to hide it from me," Sarah said instead of answering directly. "You laughed in all the right places, engaged in conversation, passed side dishes to Gizelle, sang happy birthday, and had a great time. But your eyes were cold and detached. Your posture was unyielding, and I could almost see you telling yourself not to get angry. The whole thing reminded me of what you were like when I met you. That's when I figured it out. That, and Gizelle does not have a very good poker face, and I could tell she was unnerved having you there."
Rambo sighed. "I hope I didn't ruin your birthday, Sarah."
"Did I or did I not just thank you for making my birthday special, John? I wouldn't have done that if I didn't mean it. You know I don't like to lie."
John nodded. He did know how she felt about lying, she even had a poster somewhere in her office at the church about how much lying offended her.
Sarah took a moment, staring at John, and then mustered up the courage to ask, "What did she do?"
He'd expected this question, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to answering it. "She used to be friends with Gabrielle. She's the one who got her to go down to Mexico and sold her out. Gizelle convinced her to blow off steam at this seedy club instead of driving back to me, and they took her from there." Rambo said, his voice breaking.
Sarah's heart broke for the tortured man in front of her. She stood up, placed the now sleeping Miracle in her baby swing, and hugged John. It was an awkward angle, with him sitting down, hunched over, but she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed, still surprised and comforted by the strength of his frame, despite his older age.
Rambo leaned into her hug and encircled her waist with his arms. He'd felt so keyed up, so angry when he'd walked inside after confronting Gizelle, but having Sarah listen to him, and comfort him just like Maria used to do made all those negative feelings fade to the deepest recesses of his brain.
"Everything alright in here?" Michael asked, walking into the room. He saw what was going on and let them be. He figured it was good practice for when their daughter was bigger and needed to be consoled.
"I'm so sorry that happened, John." Sarah said.
He sighed. "So am I. I thought when I got rid of the cartel she worked for that her role in that world would have ended, but another one snatched her up instead. I should have known when I let her go that she wouldn't turn from her ways."
"Why did you let her live?"
Rambo stiffened and pulled away from Sarah's embrace. She felt like a moron. It was obvious with every breath he took that the horrors he'd inflicted on people, bad people, all his life affected him constantly. And here she was, asking why he hadn't killed her.
"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."
"I don't kill women." John replied that harsh tone back in his voice. "Even when I should."
Sarah shivered despite the heat pouring into the house at the vitriol dripping from his words. "I know that, John. I know you'd never hurt a woman. I just thought that Gizelle would have been the exception, because of what she did."
"I understand where that thought came from," he assured her, his voice returning to its normal cadence, "and it's not like you haven't witnessed my savagery firsthand. I haven't exactly given you reason not to think that I would do something like that."
Sarah shook her head. "I've seen you kill, yes, but that was to save our lives, not for fun. And I shouldn't have assumed you'd just kill anything with a pulse that wronged you. That wasn't fair of me. I find it honorable that you never kill women, even though that girl honestly deserved to die at your hands."
"Thank you." John said quietly.
Sarah went back to the couch and said, "I want you to know that I won't allow her to lead our female youth group, even if she won't disappear. No way am I going to let her handle a group of teenage girls after what you've told me."
"Good."
She paused, and then cautiously asked, "Is there anything we can do to make sure this doesn't happen again?"
"I have an idea." Rambo replied.
He didn't offer any more information than that and stood to leave. "I really am glad you had a nice birthday, Sarah. And I'm sorry again about Gizelle."
"I did, and John? If it weren't for you, I would've hired Gizelle, and very well might have lost an entire group of young women to the scum she works for. Thank you."
Rambo nodded, and opened the door, walking out into the night.
Carmen Delgado returned home exhausted, after spending two hours staking out a prominent Mexican figure for her next opinion piece. Just as she was about to slip into some nightwear, her phone rang. "Mierda," she mumbled, grabbing for the phone.
"Hola, soy Carmen."
"Carmen? It's John Rambo."
Out of all the people Carmen thought might have been calling her at 10 p.m. John Rambo would not have made the list. She hadn't seen or heard from him in almost five years. "John?"
"I'm sorry to be calling you so late, but I need your help."
She could hear the uncertainty in his voice, which was new. Before, he had been quite pushy, getting her to help him, after the girl he loved was killed, but now, he was hesitating. Carmen needed to let him know that after what he did, she was indebted to him forever. "You brought my sister's killers to justice, John. Whatever you need."
"I need to know if in the course of your investigation into the Martinez brothers, if you ever came across the name Gizelle Pineda."
Carmen felt her eyes tearing up at the mention of the men who killed her sister. "I'm not sure, I'll have to check my files. Why?"
"Because she was responsible for Gabrielle being taken, and probably your sister too. She's in Colorado now, where I am, and is trying to take over this female youth group. I confronted her about leading those girls into a trap, and she didn't deny it. Nor did she deny having done that before. I can't let her continue to destroy lives, Carmen. I can't."
"Why did you not dispose of her four years ago?"
She heard him sigh. "Because I don't kill women."
Such a simply put statement, but a powerful one, and one that spoke volumes about his character. Not even the woman who caused him so much pain could get him to change his mind. "I will check for her name and see if I have any information on her. What are you going to do with it?"
"Actually, I was hoping you would do something with the information for me."
Carmen scrunched her nose. "What can I do? I am in Mexico, she is there, with you."
"Do you have any contacts within the FBI?"
She chuckled. "A few, but most of them don't enjoy taking my calls. They consider me a nag."
"Well, nag or not, human trafficking is something the federal government takes very seriously. Would you contact one of the people you know, and give them any information you can find on Gizelle? Tell them about Gabrielle and your sister, and who Gizelle used to work for. The Martinez cartel was in the news for a long time after everything that went down, I'm sure they've heard of them.
"Having the opportunity to take down a human trafficking ring inside the US heading to Mexico that they very well might not know of would be a big win for the FBI."
Carmen liked where this was going. "I do not know if it will work, but I will try, John. I'll write an article about everything I have on the Martinez brothers, Gizelle, and the deaths of our loved ones, and include it with the information I'll send to my friend."
"Thank you so much, Carmen. I can't ever thank you enough."
She made a dismissive sound over the phone. "Please. You took care of the Martinez brothers, and their entire army singlehandedly. We're not even close to even. All I must do is pick up the phone and mail a file folder. You went to war with them."
"I did what I had to do," Rambo said quietly, "even though it still keeps me up some nights."
Carmen sympathized with him. "I am kept awake by nightmares too, John. Only you have the satisfaction of knowing they can never come back."
Thanking her again for her help, John made ending remarks like he was ready to get off the phone. "I'll call you once my friend has the files."
"Great. Thank you. Oh, and Carmen, I appreciate that you never ratted me out for what happened on my ranch, or when I killed Victor Martinez in his house there in Mexico."
She huffed "Of course I didn't. You did what I did not have the skill or the courage to do. Goodbye, John."
A week later, Rambo woke up feeling lighter than he had in a while. He had heard from Carmen last night, who told him that the package of evidence on the Martinez brothers, their cartel, Gizelle, and who she might be working for now made it to FBI headquarters where her contact worked. She told him that her friend had read over the intel, and had immediately called a meeting, and blasted a briefing of the human trafficking ring inside the US to every federal desk in the states.
There were finally steps in motion to put Gizelle to a stop for good, along with whoever she was working for. It wasn't as brutal of a consequence as she deserved, but it was one he could live with.
"John!" Sarah called loudly, walking towards his house. It was early in the morning, so why was she here?
"Sarah? What's wrong?" he asked, noticing Miracle strapped to her chest and smiling at the baby.
She graciously accepted his invitation to come inside and away from the cold and told him to turn on the TV.
Confused, Rambo did as she'd requested, and turned the TV on. It was already on the news station, so they both watched.
"Breaking news... Gizelle Pineda, a woman who the FBI said had ties to Mexico and human trafficking, was found murdered in her hotel room in Denver, Colorado, in what looks to be a cartel hit. This is just days after the FBI received a package of information on the US to Mexico trafficking ring, leading back to Hugo and Victor Martinez, the brothers who ran a cartel in Mexico up until four years ago, when they were killed in a brutal assault on a ranch in Arizona. Here's Gary Dern with the latest..."
John sat down hard in his recliner and stared at the screen, without saying a word.
"Here." Sarah offered, handing Miracle over to him.
Unable to be upset with a smiling baby in his arms, Rambo held her, rumbling a good morning that had her giggling.
"You didn't kill her, John. You didn't break your code of conduct. She killed herself by getting mixed up in all this."
Rambo shrugged. "I know that. And I wanted her stopped. It's just..."
"You don't feel good, because in a small way, you got her killed, even though you didn't kill her."
"Yeah."
Sarah could tell he was headed into a bad space and wanted to pull him out. "John, did you know that babies can sense a good person from a bad person, like dogs can?"
He shook his head. "No. They can?"
"Uh huh. Case in point."
Rambo glanced down to see Miracle snuggling into his chest with a contented sigh. Her little hand was on his big one, as if she didn't want him to let go.
He looked back up at Sarah, and said, "Is this your way of telling me that I'm a good person?"
"Well, it's Miracle's way, but yeah. The fact that you didn't kill Gizelle proves how good of a person you are, John. Don't let her death rock you. Be happy you finally brought the last bit of justice to Gabrielle and everyone else that girl hurt."
"Okay."
With that settled, Rambo stood, careful not to disturb Miracle, and walked them home, where Michael greeted them with plates of pancakes for the chilly morning. John knew how lucky he was to be living the life he was living and was determined not to let another minute go by feeling bad about what happened to Gizelle.
Sitting down with the Miller family to have some breakfast, Rambo noticed a notecard Sarah had hastily written out and stuck in front of his plate. "The trouble they cause recoils on them; their violence comes down on their own heads." Psalm 7:16. He glanced at her, smiled, and mimed the word thanks. She nodded, and they started to eat. They might not have been a traditional family, the missionary couple, their baby, and the rough around the edges but soft on the inside man who saved them, but they were a family.
The End