Free The Desire by Gary Smalley

is, anyway. It’s just so hard seeing these people—not the people here—in Korah, I mean, living with nothing. Absolutely nothing. And there’s not even the hope that someday their situation will improve. I talked with one old man. I thought he must be seventy or eighty. It turned out he was fifty-three. He’d lived his entire life there. I don’t think he could even conceive of the possibility of life on any street here in River Oaks. I couldn’t even find the words to describe it to him. He’d have no reference point.”
    Allan paused, looking at Michele as she drove. “But the hardest part were all the kids. Hundreds of them. Most of them orphans. Just scrounging around every day, rummaging through dirty, filthy garbage, looking for anything they couldeat. The smell was horrendous, Michele. Beyond belief. We not only lost our appetites, most of us felt like we would lose our breakfast any minute. I can’t even imagine being hungry enough to eat something I picked out of there.”
    She made a few more turns. The townhome village where they lived was just a few minutes away. Their neighborhood was still gorgeous, but the homes were much smaller. Maybe seeing them would be easier for him to bear. “Well, are you still glad you went?”
    â€œYeah, I’m still glad. All in all, it was a fruitful trip. I’m sure we’ll be going back there. Maybe just back to Korah. Ray said he believes that discovering that place was the whole purpose of our trip.”
    â€œWhat do you think?” She tried not to sound too enthusiastic. She was actually a little discouraged to hear him already talking about wanting to go back.
    â€œI totally agree. As hard as it was. Nothing else we did on that trip even comes close to the significance of those last few days in Korah.” He turned toward her in his seat. Not just his head but his whole body, a new look of excitement on his face. “The guys . . . well, the guys and I . . . we decided we have to do something. None of us felt right seeing all of that and just walking away. We couldn’t live with ourselves if we did.”
    She didn’t like the sound of this. “Like what?” She turned left down the little driveway that ran behind their section of townhomes. She could see their place just up ahead.
    â€œMichele, we’re going to help this man we met build an orphanage there.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œAn orphanage. Just a small one at first. But we spent most of the plane ride home figuring it out. It can work, Michele. It really can.”
    â€œYou’re saying we here. Who’s we?”
    â€œMe and the rest of the guys.”
    â€œWhat’s your role in this supposed to be?”
    â€œRay’s going to be the point man, in charge of all the fund-raising and kind of be the spokesman. He’s asked me to take care of all the logistics here at home. The administrative stuff.”
    She pulled into the driveway. His face was all lit up.
    Her heart was filled with dread.

14
    L ater that afternoon, Allan lay down for a nap. He had hoped to stay awake through the evening then go to bed early, around nine. His body wouldn’t cooperate; it thought it was two in the morning. Before he conked out, he had asked Michele to please get him up in an hour, two at the most. He wanted to get over this jet lag in the next day or two before he had to go back to work.
    They didn’t talk anymore about his Africa trip or this new orphanage plan, but it was all Michele could think about. He had never come home from any of the other trips in this condition. She didn’t know what to call it, but it made her uneasy. He’d been this tired before but never this excited about going back. Usually when he got home, he focused on her, how much he missed her, how much he hated being apart this long. Even how grateful he was to live in America.
    There was a gentle knock at the door.