A Seal Upon Your Heart (52 page)

I joined with a group of Catholic missionaries who were going to Rwanda to minister. They led me to the Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre. There I was able to find out more information about my family and what happened to my father. Thank you so much for the file of information. I read it finally and knew that I needed to learn more. I found out that my father was killed so that he wouldn’t be able to testify against his superiors.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that my father had a hand in slaughtering entire families but I know that he also reached out through my mother to save as many Tutsis as he could—which ultimately resulted in his arrest and my mother’s killing.

Tim, I was asked to aid the Centre in collecting testimonies from other genocide survivors. I too gave my testimony and it seemed to solidify in me that I can do so much to help others like me. This seems to be the therapy that I’ve been avoiding.

Tim had lowered the letter and stared off into space as he absorbed those words. So she had found her calling. He began reading again.

Tim, I’ve decided to remain here indefinitely to work at the Centre. I know it sounds very selfish of me to tell you this but I haven’t rejected…US.  I think about you every single day. I miss you and I know now more than ever that I love you. Because true love is enduring.

I’m going to ask that you not write to me or try to call me because I need my head to be completely in this task. I need to give this every chance. I hope you understand. Oh by the way, this entire package isn’t for you. There is a separately sealed letter to Dhakiya. Can you give this to her? It’s a lot for me to ask isn’t it? I did research on her family and thought that she might want it for her records. I think that is all that I have to say for now. I’m sorry.

-Martier

Yes, she did ask a lot but he did it willingly. Dhakiya had been beating herself up over her role in their breakup. Tim assured her that it would have happened—their breakup was destiny. How could it go any other way?

The second letter had been two weeks after the first and she had confirmed his suspicions that she had found her calling. She described watching people open up and seeing them heal. Yeah, that’s when he stopped calling Sister Louise to ask about her.

That had been over a month ago.

He walked into the bedroom and got ready for his dinner at Jakob and Elaina’s house. He grinned when he saw that dinner was a porterhouse steak.

They chatted comfortably and when Jakob excused himself for the bathroom Tim helped Elaina clear away the dishes. He then headed down the hall to the bathroom and heard Jakob’s hushed conversation.

“Look, I told you that I can’t come to see you this weekend—It’s unavoidable! What am I supposed to do? I know it’s his birthday. Tell him…tell him Daddy loves him and I’ll be there…” Jakob looked up and met Tim’s eyes.

“I have to go--I’ll call you later!”

Tim blinked his eyes and then ran his hands through his hair. “What the fuck--?”

“Tim…damn.”

“Daddy? You knocked up one of those girls?!”

“Keep your voice down!” Jakob grabbed his arm and pulled him into the master bedroom. “Look…When Allison was my assistant she got pregnant. What in the hell was I supposed to do? She didn’t want to have an abortion…”

“I can’t believe this. And Elaina doesn’t--?”

“She as no idea.”

Tim ran both hands through his hair and then headed out the door. “We better get back before she gets suspicious. We’ve already been gone too long. Just…start talking about a case.”

The two men headed for the living room chatting about a make-believe case. Tim was amazed at how well Jakob fell in line
, playing his role innocently. And as they continued back to the living room with their manufactured conversation, Tim’s stomach plunged to his feet. Jakob was still cheating on Elaina.

“There you boys are. I was about to send out a search party.” Jakob kissed her cheek. “Sorry, honey. I was talking to Tim about a case.”

It sickened him to see Jakob pretending to be the devoted husband. He ended the night as quickly as he could and then he remembered something that Martier had said; don’t let Linda work for Jakob. She had known.

~***~

The next day he marched into Jakob’s office before even having his first cup of coffee. Jakob looked up.

“This can’t wait until after lunch?”

“No.”

Jakob sighed. “Do you think I’m happy about this? I’m just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.”

“You have a son.”

Jakob looked down and then nodded. A slight smiled crossed his lips. “He’s two. He’s beautiful.”

“He’s a secret.”

A shadow crossed Jakob’s face. “I can’t—Elaina and I have made so many strides. I can’t ruin it now.”

“You’re still sleeping with Allison, and don’t lie.”

Jakob blew out a long breath. “I don’t have the discipline that it takes to say no to her. She’s…she’s the mother of my child.”

“Oh bullshit! You just can’t keep your dick in your pants. Are you going to tell Elaina about this?”

“No! Are you insane? It would kill her.”

“This is not going to end well. Your son deserves a father and your wife deserves the truth.”

Jakob didn’t respond and Tim left him to his own thoughts.

Deep in his own thoughts, he rounded the corner and saw Lindewe standing and holding the phone. A huge smile was on her face.

“Tim! It’s Martier on the phone!”

His heartbeat quickened. “Is she okay?” He didn’t bother to go into his office, he just quickly grabbed the phone from his assistant.

“Yes, she said she was good.”

“Hello Martier?”

“Tim, hi.”

“Hi.”

“Oh…you sound so wonderful,” She whispered.

“You do too. How are you, honey, how is Rwanda?” It was funny how in this moment it was as if the weeks apart had never happened. All the mistakes that he thought he had made no longer existed and he was just talking to the woman that he loved, the woman that gave his life purpose, the woman that was his best friend.

“I…met the boy that killed my brother.”

Chapter 44

Five Days ago

Martier slipped off her shoes and then reached down and rubbed her feet. She thought about Tim’s foot rubs but quickly changed the directions of those thoughts. With a sigh she padded barefoot into the small kitchen for bottled water. The Centre had found her an apartment that she could afford even on her meager wages. Her apartment was just a combined kitchen and living area and than a bedroom with a small conjoined bathroom. It was a far cry from her little cottage. Not that she was complaining. She would do this for free. Today she had interviewed an elderly woman who had gone through indescribable torture. She had never spoken of those events to anyone until Martier had described losing and then regaining her memory.

She recalled the first time she had to talk about those events at Tim’s urging. She hadn’t been ready. She had an absolute understanding of that when urging others to give testimony; that you can’t do it even one second before you’re ready to.

Therefore, whenever someone opened up to her after a long silence she equated it to a door opening into a dark room allowing light to shine in for the first time in over a decade. This time that light was shining in for an elderly woman, sometimes it was for a man that only had memories of a long gone family, or a young adult that had lost all semblance of a childhood. 

This was therapy and spiritual, and although rewarding it was also heart-wrenching. There were days that she would return to her small apartment and just sit by the window looking out, not at the scene before her, but memories of a recently remembered past. 

But this evening she didn’t do that. She was invited to dinner at the home of one of the members of the data acquisition team. It was the third time she’d been invited to eat at someone’s home since arriving in Rwanda. The people at the Centre seemed to think that she would starve to death since the concept of fast food in Kigali was virtually non-existent—there were restaurants but they were anything but fast. However she enjoyed her daily walks to the market where she purchased fresh meats or fish to go along with her vegetables and fruit.

The people at the Centre were friendly and easy to get along with. She was amazed at how quickly she adapted to life here. But she couldn’t help to think about the people that she had left; including Dhakiya. When she was in the States she had been angry and had refused to take any of Dhakiya’s calls but since coming back to Rwanda, she realized that there were more important things to worry about than a friend that had overstepped her bounds.

So she had included in the package of information that she had sent via Tim, a letter explaining that while the revelation of her deepest secrets had disappointed her she understood. Martier felt that she had grown a lot since then; back then she had been more childlike than adult so it was no wonder that Dhakiya had taken matters into her own hands. But just because she understood didn’t mean that she intended to change her mind concerning no contact with her past life until she could come to terms with her current one.  She needed to focus on Rwanda and fixing her own broken pieces and she didn’t want anyone influencing her thoughts. 

Geoff Hernandez knocked on her door and greeted her in Kinyarwanda. He encouraged her to practice it as much as possible and it had now come back to her until it flowed off her tongue easily. She knew that it was another thing that she had to thank Dhakiya for. Her friend wouldn’t allow her to forget.

“Ready?” 

“Yes.”

Geoff had offered to drive her stating that it wasn’t out of his way—although it really was. Martier suspected that Geoff had developed a crush on her. She pretended not to know and hoped that he would get the message. But still, she liked him. He was the one member of the team that always accompanied her on the door-to-door visits. Someone had even commented on it and he had turned beet red—even past his bronze skin tone.

He had promised to take her back to her old neighborhood. Even though Martier had now been in Rwanda just over two months she still hadn’t ventured back to her own neighborhood. She confessed to him that she wasn’t sure if she was ready. But Geoff promised her that life had moved on since then and there were great improvements. Maybe it would be okay with him there to remind her that the ghosts have all been laid to rest.

Dinner was delicious; beef stew and fried plantain chips called mizuzu. She smiled suddenly after taking her first bite. “These taste exactly the way my mother used to make them!” She savored the taste. “I can’t believe I remember that.”

“I heard somewhere that your sense of smell can trigger a memory that has been deeply buried,” said Janet, the host. Martier wondered if she had eaten mizuzu earlier if she would have remembered things sooner. 

“Do you miss the States?” One of her other co-workers asked.

“I do. I miss my friends, my boyfriend-”

“Boyfriend?” Geoff asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said quickly. “How does he feel about you being in Rwanda?”

“I didn’t ask him.” She turned to look directly at Geoff. “I had to do this so there was no other choice.”