For a long time, he didn’t say anything. Then he exploded in rage. And that started it off. It was the same thing as the day before, the same loud screaming and selfish arguments. After a few minutes, Mitchell stopped arguing, sat down, and started to pull his shoes on.
Barzee realized that he was leaving, and that threw more fuel on her rage. “You can’t just leave me here again! You have to stay here! You’re going to talk to me. You’re going to face this now!”
But apparently he wasn’t. Mitchell grabbed his handmade moneybag and the linen cap he only wore when he was going into the city.
Barzee kept on screaming. “The Lord has sent me to chastise you! You will not walk away!”
“I’m going into town,” Mitchell said in a quiet voice. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
He shoved the hat onto his head, then turned around and walked away.
I sank down in despair.
I knew it would take him until dark before he would even get into the city, which meant he probably wouldn’t be coming back that night. That meant another day without any food. The only thing we had eaten all day was a small crust of bread with a tiny bit of mayo and the last remaining rings from a slice of an old onion. I had eaten maybe a couple thousand calories in the past week. It had been that way for months. My stomach was constantly aching. I was already weak and dizzy. The thought of going another day without anything to eat was almost more than I could bear.
Barzee stormed back into the tent, all the time ranting about Mitchell. All I could do was sit and listen, trying to stay out of her way. She went on and on. Hours and hours of her ranting. Sometime well into the night, she finally turned to me and said, “We have spoken long. It is late now. Let us pray and go to bed.”
What do you mean by “we”? I wanted to say. I haven’t said a word in hours. But yes, please, let’s go to bed.
*
When I woke up, the first thing I thought about was food. I got up and searched through the camp for something to eat, but everything was gone.
Barzee picked up her ranting where she had left off the night before. By midafternoon, she was finally out of rage. There was silence for a couple of hours and then she said, “I’m sure he’s on his way back. I’m sure he’ll bring us water. I’m sure he’ll bring us food.”
I thought back on the single piece of crust and ring of onion I had eaten the day before. The day before that, I had eaten little more. I had been on a path of malnutrition for many weeks now, leaving me weak and vulnerable. I would have done anything for something to eat, I would have done anything for something to drink. I was beyond mere thirst and hunger. I was beyond misery and despair.
The day ended. Still no Mitchell. Where is he?! I was screaming in frustration in my head.
Day three came. Barzee seemed resigned to suffering through it, however it was to end. As quickly as she had gathered up the will to fight Mitchell, she had lost it now. If he had left us here to die, that seemed to be okay with her. We sat around in silence. We just didn’t have the energy to talk. Besides, it hurt my throat to speak. I was as dry as bone.
I didn’t think I was going to starve to death, at least not yet, but I knew that I could die of dehydration if I didn’t get something to drink. My tongue was dry and swollen. My throat was as rough as sandpaper, not letting my thick saliva go down. Three days in the heat and dryness. Three days without food or water. My heart raced every time that I walked or even stood up. My body was on the edge.
That afternoon, I lay weakly on my bed and thought back on the miraculous glass of water that had appeared by my pillow on that night back in the mountains. It seemed so long ago. Please God, I started praying. It was hard to even form the words. Please God, I need another miracle. I can’t go another day without any water. If I don’t drink, I’m going to die here. Please, help me find a way to go on.
Weak, exhausted, and demoralized to the point of losing hope, I drifted off to sleep.
Shortly after, I awoke to a splattering sound on our tent. It took me a while to figure out what was going on. Then it finally hit me. Rain! It was raining! I was overcome with relief.
Then the words came very clearly into my mind: I will not leave you comfortless. I will come to you.
I closed my eyes to thank Him and then climbed out of the tent.
It was a fierce storm, rife with water, the rain coming down in enormous, drenching drops. Barzee jumped up and we worked together. We grabbed the spare tarp and tied it up to catch the rain. Then we put out every bucket, can, and container that we could find to catch the rain. As the rain pooled on the tarp, I poured it into one of the containers. Once I had a mouthful, I lifted it to my mouth and gulped it down. I let it fill once more and gulped again. I poured and gulped and poured and gulped until I started feeling sick. I was drinking so much water; I knew I had to quit.