Fawn squeezed her hand. “I’ll be praying for you. You can do it.”
Annie returned the pressure. “I need all the prayers I can get to do this.” She got on her ATV and put the key in the ignition. Fawn got on the other one, and they drove out over the lava flats. They passed tourists walking along the trail to the vent. The odor of sulfur grew as they followed the trail.
“This is as far as we’d better take the machines,” Fawn shouted.
Annie nodded. She stopped her ATV and shut off the engine. Her muscles froze, and she couldn’t seem to make herself get off the seat. Her gaze traveled over the ropey lava. Where were the weak spots? She saw a fumarole. That was one place she would avoid. Another spot had an indentation that made it appear unsafe.
“Annie?” Fawn put her hand on her shoulder. “I can’t carry everything by myself.”
Annie nodded and forced herself to move. She and Fawn donned protective clothing, fire helmets, and boots. She hadn’t been in this gear since the accident. Her heart fluttered against her ribs like a caged wild bird. She stopped and bent over. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she gagged.
Fawn touched the back of her neck. “Breathe deeply,” she instructed. “In and out.”
Annie did as her friend instructed. Gradually the nausea passed. “I’m okay now,” she said weakly. “Mahalo.” Aware of the interested stares of tourists, she grabbed her equipment. “Let’s go.” She eased herself out onto the bench. Trying to breathe through her mouth to minimize the stench just made her throat burn more. She dug out her gas mask and put it on, but that just made her panic rise, so she ripped it off and endured the odor.
The ground gave beneath her boots, like there was Play-Doh under the crust on top. But Annie knew from past experience that what lay beneath the hardened layer was much more dangerous. “I can’t do it,” she said suddenly. “I can’t.” She turned and ran back to the ATV. When she reached the machine, she vomited the contents of her stomach at the tires.
Fawn was at her side moments later murmuring soothing noises. “It’s okay. Let’s get back to the observatory. Shawn and I can do this tomorrow.”
“Gina will be so mad at me.” Annie squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of the disappointment she would see on her boss’s face. But there was no way she could go any closer to the fire.
When they got back to the observatory, Gina was in the hall talking to another worker. Her smile faded when she saw Annie and Fawn. “You look terrible. What happened?”
“She’s sick,” Fawn said, her eyes challenging Annie to deny it. “She threw up, so we came back.”
“Sick or frightened?” Gina walked to meet them.
“I can’t do it,” Annie blurted. “You might as well look for a replacement for me. Give my job to Monica.” She burst into tears and ran out of the building. Her vision was blurry as she jammed the key in the ignition. She drove aimlessly out to the water, out to Ka Lae, the southernmost point in the United States. The ferocious winds here caused the trees to grow bent over.
Annie was surprised she could still walk upright, as bent and tattered as she was by the winds of change that were sweeping over her life. Her career was over. Monica would take her place at work, and Gina would take her place with her family. What would she do? How could she find meaning in her life? She fell to her knees while the wind whipped her hair around her face. God was still there for her, Fawn said. He was the one constant she could always count on. Why had she forgotten that?
She lay facedown in the tall grass. She smelled the earth, the sky, and the grass in a comforting aroma of God’s creation. She was his creation too. He would know where she belonged. Her tears soaked the roots of the grass and nourished it, even as she was nourished by the Lord’s love that seeped down into her heart. In his arms was home and nowhere else. She wanted to make a new start with him.
The next morning, Annie honked the horn outside Fawn’s house. She smoothed the navy slacks she wore. These pumps were killing her feet, but she seldom wore heels. She’d put on navy trouser socks to hide the scars on her feet, but her limp was more pronounced in these shoes.
Bougainvillea covered the front of Fawn’s small house. Herbs grew in raised beds in the yard and rambled up a white picket fence like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. The front door opened, and Fawn came running out. Annie didn’t think she’d ever seen her friend in a skirt. The black ankle-length skirt was topped with a flower-print silk top that flowed down to her hips at an angle.
“You look nice,” Annie told her.
“So do you.” Fawn fastened her seat belt. “I hate funerals.”
“Me too. But we need to be there for Jillian.” They rode in gloomy silence for a few minutes. “Have you talked to Jillian this morning?”