Stranger In The Night

“My friend!” he cried, holding out a hand. “Are you well?”

“No problems here.” Joshua shook the hand. “Your family okay? The kids?”

“My children are inside. Of course—upstairs. But you? I was told men attacked you. Here! In St. Louis, America!”

“America, Paganda, Iraq. Every nation has its problems, Pastor.”

“My family—we did not expect to find such a situation here. My wife’s brother said nothing of this in his letter. These gangs. This is what we saw in Paganda too many times. Thuggery. Looting. Riots and killing. It is very bad.”

“Calm down, my friend. I’m working to move you and the wife and kids to your own place. We’ll find your brother-in-law and get you a job. Your wife can work, too. The kids will go to school. You won’t have to live with violence.”

“But why is it here? This is America! This is the United States of America! How many years did we wait in that refugee camp in Kenya, praying to find salvation in the land of our hope? Now what? Has the hostility followed us?”

“It was here long before you arrived,” Liz told him. “Poverty, greed, empty promises. These always breed problems. America isn’t exempt, Pastor Stephen.”

He shook his head. “Nimeshangaa.”

“Say what?” Joshua glanced at Liz.

“ Shangaa. It’s a Swahili word. Means to astonish, overwhelm.”

“Even to defeat,” Pastor Stephen added. “I am amazed by this news. Greatly discouraged.”

Liz touched the man’s shoulder. “We’re all discouraged by the problems in the inner cities of America. Just like in Paganda, there are no easy answers here.”

“I cannot bring my children from one place of terror to another! How can this be? Here they even kill the dog!”

“Dog ain’t dead.” Raydell shouldered his way through the crowd and stepped onto the sidewalk with the others. “Sam’s takin’ Duke to the emergency vet. This is all my fault. Sergeant Duff, man, I’m sorry. I let everyone down. I was supposed to guard the door, and I got tempted away.”

“Shauntay,” Liz said. “Is she in a gang?”