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"So if these health-worker volunteers are going, let them go with the full support of the people of the United States. Donate whatever you wish—either through your own religious organization or through the fund that we're setting up for that purpose. Not a dime will go for overhead—it will all translate into food and medicines for the sick, and housing, food, and transportation for the volunteers."
He was as good as his word. Aunt Margaret barely had time to get back down to northern Virginia from her home in New Jersey so she could stay with the kids.
Aunt Margaret had words for Cecily, of course. Harsh ones. "If you planned to orphan them, why did you have them?"
"I'm coming back," said Cecily calmly. "So is Mark. But if we don't, they have you. And they'll know that both their parents died standing for what they believe in. Even if it took Mark goading me to make me do it."
"The parent is supposed to lead the child, not the other way around."
"'Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, he is the greater in the kingdom of heaven,'" said Cecily.
"What is that, the Bible? Catholics don't read the Bible."
"I've been reading a lot of scripture lately."
"So you decide to be a martyr, then you read the Bible?"
"I love you too, Aunt Margaret," said Cecily.
For the next hour or so, Aunt Margaret huffed and grumbled through the house, putting her things away in the guest bedroom and checking the cupboards and fridge to make sure that Cecily had some "food that was worth eating instead of all that organic crap without any of my favorite chemicals."
But by the time Mark and Cecily had loaded their luggage into Stevie Popadopolos's car—as per the regulations: "one suitcase, one carry-on, and don't bother with warm clothing or electrical appliances because you'll never have a chance to use them"—and they were saying their good-byes to the other children, Margaret was crying, and when she hugged Mark she whispered into his ear, "I'm so proud of you."
"I'm not," said Nick gracelessly. "I think he's lost his mind."
"He'll miss you, too," said Cecily.
"No I won't," said Mark, but he hugged his brother and they held on to each other for a long time. They were only a year apart, and this would be the first time they were apart for longer than a school day. Or a new videogame, since Nick played like an addict and Mark rarely touched them.
When Nick pulled away he said, "I couldn't do it, anyway. No electronics, no games. It sounds like—"
"Hell," offered Aunt Margaret.
"I was going to say 'school,'" said Nick, "but hell is almost as bad."
For once Lettie seemed to understand that this wasn't about her—though she was losing her mother for several months, at least—and both she and Annie hugged Mark and Cecily and then backed off to watch. John Paul was only six, but he got it that this was something serious, and though he was trying not to cry, a little bit of emotion leaked out every few minutes.
Cecily saw Chinma standing in the doorway of the house, looking at them somberly. She beckoned to him. He immediately ducked back into the house, so Cecily left the others and went inside.
"Where you going, forget something?" asked Stevie loudly.
"I'll be back in just a moment."
She found Chinma curled up on the living room sofa. The television was not on, though he was looking at it. "I should go," he said.
"I know it's your country," said Cecily, "but the fact is, you can't go.Your asylum status in the U.S. absolutely forbids you to return to Nigeria. If you do, you'll lose your right to be here."
"I should go," he said again. "I already caught the monkey sickness. I can't catch it again. I'm the safe one."
"
We're going to be very careful," said Cecily.
"Why are you going?" he demanded, and for a moment he looked almost angry. "They're my people, not your people!"
"In one sense, they're not your people," said Cecily. "Your family, your whole language, they're gone. But in the only way that matters, there are no people who are not my people."
"Father said Christians never mean what they say."
