Gladioli in August
Gladioli in August love from the ash will emerge
Gladioli in August
Clare Revell
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Gladioli in August
COPYRIGHT 2016 by Clare Revell
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All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version
(R),
NIV
(R),
Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.⢠Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Cover Art by
Nicola Martinez
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Publishing History
First White Rose Edition, 2016
Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-995-9
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
For Ceryn who inherited her mother's fascination of everything disaster related.
What People are Saying
Saturday's Child
Nail-biting Christian thriller! This book was worth reading, just to get to the last sentence!
~ Becky Lewis, reader
Vegas Vacation
I enjoyed this rollicking tale! ...A surprising amount of suspense and danger keep the pages of this romance novella turning, from the first page to the last (I read it in one sitting).
~Delia Latham, author
Carnations in January shake the foundations
Violets in February are an aid to salvation
Daffodils in March brings betrayal and loss
Sweet peas in April consume all the dross
Lily of the Valley in May brings danger untold
Roses in June show hope in a heart filled with gold
Water lilies in July a town will submerge
Gladioli in August love from the ash will emerge
Forget-me-nots in September are on the front line of fear
Marigolds in October will test her career
Chrysanthemums in November show the burden of choice
Holly in December lets a broken family rejoice
Gladioli in August love from the ash will emerge
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Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea â Psalm 46:2
1
Jael Stevens climbed the steps onto the platform of Headley Baptist Church on her last Sunday morning in England for a while. Every pew was filled. Nerves sent her heart pounding and stomach turning. She hated public speaking and wasn't looking forward to this at all. But it was part of her commissioning service.
Pastor Carson smiled. “If you want to take the center mic, I'll use this one.” He pointed to the one on his tie. “OK, we'll start with a few easy questions, just so people get an idea of who you are, before we tell them where you're going and what you're going to do.” He winked. “They aren't as scary as they look, honest. How about you kick things off by telling us your name and occupation.”
That she could do without her voice trembling. “My name is Jael Stevens, and I'm a nurse. I'm about to take a six-month sabbatical from my role as ward sister of the ITU.”
“What's your favorite color?”
“Yellow.”
“Which is your favorite roast dinner and why?”
At least these questions were easy and meant she didn't have to think about the answers. “Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, because the whole family is there.”
“Is it true that you once knocked a certain pastor of Headley Baptist to the ground and trod on him?”
The entire church laughed as Jael's cheeks overheated. She shuffled her feet. “Thanks for that.”
Pastor Carson winked. “My pleasure.”
Jael sucked in a deep breath. “We were playing caveman rugby at the church retreat in April. It's hardly my fault. We were told the only rule was âthou shalt not kill whilst getting the ball down thine own end of the court by any means necessary.'” She grinned at him. “You were in my way.”
The congregation laughed again.
“Other than knocking people over playing caveman rugby, what's your favorite way to relax?”
“I read and go for walks.”
“OK, so where are you off to this afternoon?”
“I have to be at Heathrow at four for a flight to East Timor. From there I'll get a shuttle flight to Tiampu. And, hopefully, there'll be some pictures on the screen behind me. Tiampu is a volcanic island out in Indonesia in the Banda Sea. I've circled it on the map. It's roughly twenty miles wide by ninety-seven miles across. The population is about 20,000 and a mix of Christian and Muslim. I'll be based at the Red Cross hospital in the capital, Achor. From there I'll be flying out to wherever I'm needed. As you can see from the photos, even though Achor is the capital it's really is little more of a shanty town. There are a few brick buildings in the center, but that's it. Very few people have cars, as the road conditions are better suited to horse and buggies or trucks. It'll be a bit like being out in the Wild West. Though I have been assured Achor does have electricity and running water. The volcano is called Gunung Berapi, and I've been assured its dormant.”
She clicked through a couple more pictures. “I'll be running some clinics, but primarily being a flying nurse going out to do home visits and so on.”
“Can you give us three things to pray about and tell us how we can support you?”
Jael held up the pink sheet. “I've done a prayer letter. It's got my e-mail and snail mail addresses on it if anyone wants to write. Financially, I'm more or less there, but still a little short. Pray that the flight goes OK with no delays. Pray that I'll adjust to the difference in surroundings, food, the language, and cope with the creepy crawlies. My brother will tell you that I'm rubbish at coping with them.”
Pastor Carson grinned. “So's my wife,” he said. “But don't tell anyone I said that.” As the laughter died down, he turned to the congregation. “I'm going to invite the elders up now, and we're going to lay hands on Jael as we send her forth as a missionary.”
****
“Are you mad? Is it safe?” Her older brother, Kyle, held out the potatoes, shock etched on his face. Considering he was one of the top hairdressers in the country, having just won an award for some hairstyling contest or other, his own hair was, as always, a mess.
For a moment, Jael wondered if that was fear flickering in his eyes. “Is what safe, Kyle?”
“Going to work on an island with a volcano on it? And when were you going to tell me?” He looked from her to his wife, Holly, and back again. “Or were you just going to send me a postcard when you got there?”
“You didn't ask.” Jael laughed. “Of course, it's safe. Besides it's gotta be a darn sight safer there than it is here.” She glanced around the dinner table. “I mean there was that explosion at the Riverside where fifteen people died, then there was the bank raid last week. Oh, and don't forget the prime minister was assassinated here. Look, you and Holly went to Sicily last year, and Etna is constantly erupting. Gunung Berapi on Tiampu hasn't erupted since the 1700s.”
“Volcanoes and August don't mix,” Kyle said, a serious expression on his face. “Krakatoa erupted on the twenty-sixth August in 1883 killing 36,000. Vesuvius erupted on the twenty-fourth August, 79 AD killing 16,000.”
Jael rolled her eyes. “Did you eat an encyclopedia for breakfast, Kyle? It's only a six-month posting, so don't worry. Nothing is going to happen.”
“It'd better not.” He put the peas down and poured gravy over his plate. “We need you here.”
She looked at him. “Why?”
Kyle looked at Holly, his wife. “You want to tell her?”
Holly shook her head and chuckled. “You can. I'm surprised it took you this long.”
Kyle grinned. “OK. We need you here because in about six and a half months' time, you're going to be an auntie.”
Jael screamed and hurried around the table to hug him and then Holly. “That's wonderful news. Of course I'll be here. Wild horses couldn't keep me away.”
****
Micah Norris hurtled down the runway of the small medical base on Tiampu and reached take-off speed with barely any room to spare. He really did need to extend the runway by at least another five hundred feet. Perhaps a job for the weekend or he'd rope half a dozen of the local lads into doing it this week. While he was on the mainland he'd put in an order for the tarmac, and he could pick it up next week. Until then he'd make do with the dirt track.
Micah loved flying, loved his job, and loved being single. Most of the friends he'd gone to school with were married and fathers by now, but not him. This way he could serve God wholeheartedly without distraction. How did Paul put it in First Corinthians? An unmarried man is concerned about the Lord's affairsâhow he can please the Lord. But a married man is concerned about the affairs of this worldâhow he can please his wife.
He turned his attention to the view below him. It didn't change. The vast blue oceanâwater sparkling in the sunlight, untamed and restless and free.
He hated change. He'd gotten the current nurse into his way of doing things, a set routine each day and no diversions, and that was the way he liked it, but now she sat in the passenger seat ready to return to London. He wasn't sure why the nursing staff had to change every six months. Wouldn't it make sense to have a permanent set of medics? If he was in charge that would be his first orderâwell after extending the runway. But he wasn't the boss. He was a lowly pilot, a glorified taxi driver, as his sister, Rachel, so quaintly put it.
He brought the plane into land on East Timor and taxied to the part of the airport reserved for private planes. “Here you go, Kate. Have a good flight.”
“Will do, Micah. Thanks.” She picked up her bags, and as Micah opened the door for her, hopped out, and headed across the concrete to the terminal building, without so much as a by your leave.
That suited him fine. He wasn't big on goodbyes, never had been. He prided himself on his emotional detachment to everything apart from his Lord and Savior. He turned back to his post flight checks.
Lord, I just hope this new nurse is as quiet as Kate was. Not that I don't like a bit of chat occasionally, but I like the silence more. So I can pray and think and admire the beauty of Your creation.
He refueled the plane and headed into the arrivals hall to meet the new nurse. Not that he could remember her name. Despair filled him as he checked the board for the flight number and he sighed. Delayed. He had a four-hour window before he'd have to make other arrangements. Micah crossed to the phone booth and shoved his card in. He rang the base. “Hi, Danny, it's me.”
“Did you forget your phone again?” Danny Taylor, the man in charge, sounded almost as irate as Micah felt. “The whole point is it's a mobile phone, not a static one.”
“Yep, so sue me. The new nurse's plane is delayed and depending how long for, we might be here a while. What's her name again?”
“Jael Stevens. That's J-a-e-l, not j-a-i-l. And Stevens with a V.”
Micah scribbled it on a sheet of paper. “Got it. And what kind of a name is Jael?”
“Biblical. She was the woman who shoved a tent peg through that bloke's head when he was intent on raping, pillaging, and fighting the Israelites.”