Danielle Steel: Answered prayers

“You two look incredible,” Brad chortled. They had filled out, and from the work they were doing, had developed powerful muscles in their backs, shoulders, and arms. They looked like bodybuilders in their T-shirts and jeans. And even Pam looked excited now that she was here. It was great to see them both.

“You look good too, Dad,” Dylan said to his father, as Jason helped load his mother's bags. Only Brad had ever been able to tell them apart. He had always sworn that they looked distinctly different. Pam had never been sure which one she was talking to, and had solved the problem by putting them in different-colored sneakers when they were little, which they had learned to switch later on. But even now, as adults, it was hard to tell them apart. Jason was a quarter of an inch taller, but even that didn't show.

They were full of interesting information and data, as they drove to the Liuwa Plain National Park near the Zambezi River, where they lived and worked. They explained sights as they saw them, named animals as they passed them, talked about tribes who lived in the bush along the road. What they were seeing was exactly what Brad had hoped, and it made him glad they had come. And he realized more than ever what an extraordinary experience it had been for the boys. He knew they would never forget it, and would be hard put to duplicate the experience once they got home. They were due back in July, although they'd been talking about spending a year in London, or maybe six months traveling in Europe, before they went to graduate school or got jobs at home. Pam was determined to pressure them into law school. And after what they were seeing, Brad was no longer sure she had a chance. They had seen a far broader world. The experience had been priceless for them. And neither of them had expressed an interest in the law, nor for working for her later on.

It took them four hours to drive over narrow highways and rutted roads to the game preserve in the national park, and by the time they got there, Pam was beginning to look unnerved. She had the distinct impression that they were at the end of the world, and they were. Brad loved it, just as the boys did. She looked as though she were ready to go home. And it was worse once they arrived. The employees of the game preserve lived in tents outside. There were two narrow buildings, one that served as a large rec room and office, the other as a mess hall, and there were two tiny cabins for guests. The boys had corralled one for them, but Brad suggested that he'd rather sleep with the boys in their tent.

“I wouldn't!” Pam said quickly and they all laughed. There was an outdoor shower, which was actually a large tent with a hose, and outhouses that served as latrines. It was actually among the more plush of the game preserves in the region, but it wasn't as fancy as some in Kenya, which Pam might have preferred. As far as she was concerned, this was as bad as it got. “Oh my God,” she muttered under her breath, as Dylan opened a door and showed her the latrines. “Is that it?” she asked, praying for a bathroom to drop from the sky. The thought of spending two weeks there nearly made her cry.

“You'll be fine,” Brad said calmly, patting her shoulder, and she shot him a fiery look. “Whose idea was this?” she whispered to him when the boys went to get them warm blankets and pillows, and Brad laughed.

“Your sons'. They wanted us to see where they've lived for the last nine months. You'll get used to it, I promise.”

“Don't count on it.” And Brad knew her well enough to know that she was probably right. But he also knew she'd try. She was spoiled and loved her comfort, but when pressed, she was also capable of being a good sport. And she made the effort for the boys. Although she nearly fainted when she saw her first snake, and the boys warned her that there were flying bugs the size of her fist that would fly across the room at her at night. Just hearing about them made her want to scream, or pack up and go home.

They spent their first night outdoors, sitting around a fire, listening to the sounds of the velvety African night. Brad had never seen anything like it in his life, and he loved it. And the next day, Brad went on a long drive with the boys, over sand roads, to Lukulu, a market town, and Pam stayed at the camp. She didn't want to venture too far. She had visions of their truck being rammed by a rhino or pounced on by a lion, or flipped over by a water buffalo. And she wasn't too far wrong. Some of those things had happened, but for the most part, the people on the preserve knew what they were doing, and by now so did her sons. Brad came back raving about everything they'd seen.

And for the first week, the days seemed to fly by. The only thing he longed for was a phone so he could call Faith and tell her what he'd seen. All Pam wanted was a toilet and a shower. But she stopped complaining after the first few days.

The boys also took them to Ngulwana, on the opposite side of the river from the park, where they had worked digging trenches, building houses, and restoring a disintegrating church. They were currently helping to build a medical office, where a doctor came once a month to treat the ailing and injured locals. The nearest hospital was two hours away in the dry season, in Lukulu, and it took twice as long in the rainy season, if one could get there at all. The only other option was to get there in a small plane. It was not a great place to get sick, Pam commented, and Brad agreed. But he was also impressed by how much work his sons had done for the locals. And everyone seemed to know them and love them. A number of people waved and smiled in greeting as they walked by. And both Pam and Brad were enormously proud of them.

By the second week, Brad had fallen in love with Africa itself, the people, the sounds, the smells, the warm nights, the incredible sunrises and sunsets, the light that was impossible to describe. He never had his camera out of his hands, and he suddenly understood why his sons loved being there. It was magical, and he would have loved to spend a year there himself. And Pam, for all her efforts at good sportsmanship, had eaten everything they gave her, learned to shower in the outdoor tent, still winced when she used the latrines, screamed when she saw the bugs, and much as she loved her sons, couldn't wait to go home. It just wasn't for her. And on the last night, she had a look of joyful relief.

“Mom, you were a great sport,” Jason congratulated her, and Dylan gave her a hug. It was Brad who was chagrined to leave. He had spent both weeks sleeping in their tent with them, going on drives with them at night, and getting up with them before dawn. He had seen kills, and stampedes, and a watering hole where sick and old elephants went to die. He had seen things he had only read about or dreamed. It had been a moment in his life he knew he would never forget, and had loved sharing with them. And it had meant a great deal to both boys. They had also had more to talk about and confide in him than they had had in years. They had told him, just as he suspected, that they had no interest in law school, but were afraid to tell Pam. Dylan was thinking about med school, and wanted to come back to work in third world countries with children suffering from tropical diseases, and Jason wanted to do some kind of public health work, on a grander scale, but didn't yet know what. In either case, they had years ahead of them in school, and wanted to get started soon, probably in another year, after they'd applied. But in both cases, law school was out of the question for them.

“Who's going to tell Mom?” Brad teased them on one of their long predawn rides.

“That would be you, Dad,” Dylan teased back. “We figured you have the most experience at giving her bad news.”

“Thanks a lot, guys. And when do you expect me to give her this little piece of news?” She had already imagined them working in their grandfather's firm, and had planned that since they were little boys. The only ones who weren't on the same page with her were Dylan and Jason.