The first deaths came on Sunday, during the night. Monday morning, five members of a family of seven were found on the south bank of Yoa, less than a hundred yards from the roof of the house they had lived in before. The house had collapsed from the side and had slid into a watery hole that had washed out around the base of it. Osmani and Abdal-Malik, twin boys aged twelve, had been found face-down in mud, not far from their parents and siblings. Miraculously, both were still breathing.
Sunni families and neighbors rarely took advantage of the mission services, but there were always exceptions, and there was no need for discussion in the case of Osmani and Abdal-Malik. They were hastily moved to the mission, and were under the care of mission staff, a doctor included, within an hour of being found. The rest of the family were moved to a site just outside the town, covered and readied for burial.
It was also Monday morning when the rain stopped. By noon-day the sky was completely clear from horizon to horizon. As the water ran quickly into the lake, eroding away sand, street and shelter, the attitude of the village changed instantly and spontaneously. People moved with purpose, surveying damage, shoring up what could be salvaged, looking for those who were injured or trapped, grieving loudly when a body was found. The mood was serious, but by evening there were signs of relief and even some humor in some quarters. For the several days prior, silence had been the general rule. Now, speech returned. With speech, came stories. Reports of deaths, real or rumored. Whose homes were destroyed or damaged, what stores of food were lost. Who had narrow escapes, who was injured. The story told and retold more than any other was that of Osmani and Abdal-Malik.
As it was repeated in the mission, the general contours of the chronicle were as such: rainwater had begun to encroach deeply into the house on Sunday night, leaving only room for a pile of mattresses in one corner, where the family took refuge. The water rose slowly, and the family decided to wait until they must before seeking shelter elsewhere. The father kept spirits up by telling jokes and funny stories, and by singing songs. The boys laughed and sang along. The girls and their mother smiled and seemed at ease. As this was going on, an explosion of thunder and lightning came. While they were still gasping, a torrent of water rushed into the room, which itself began to tilt crazily as bits of brick and mud rained down around them. Abruptly, the boys found themselves underwater. They frantically searched for the surface and air, but were unable to. Osmani felt something strike him hard on the head. As each felt they could hold in the air and out the water no longer, the scene changed.
Both were said to have reported the same vision. They were standing hand in hand in a field of low wheat. Opposite them stood a large, snow-white horse and on it a man dressed in white. Behind him were their parents and sisters. The sky was clear blue, but lighting traced across it – thunder was instantaneous. Their father was laughing just as he had been a few minutes ago. Their sisters were smiling, just as they had been. Only their mother spoke. She motioned to the man on the white horse and counseled them never to grieve over their family, but to celebrate. Strangely, she counseled them not to be afraid to breathe, saying that even dirt and mud have the breathe of life for those who are alive. Their family turned and walked away. The man on the horse looked down on the twins with a gentle expression, but said nothing. The twins felt only calm and peace. The horse turned and followed their family members. The last image the boys saw was on the horizon in the direction all the others had gone seemed to be hundreds or maybe thousands of other people, slowly walking toward them.
The vision disappeared. The next awareness either of the twins had was of being lifted from the mud and taken to the mission. This was how Marty presented the story to Jacob as they walked back to their shared house Monday evening after spending the day doing whatever they could to assist the recovery and clean-up. Details had changed somewhat from the first telling Jacob heard early that afternoon – that the father laughed in the vision was new – before he had been grim-faced. Before, the lightning had come in circles over the rider. Such is story-telling, Jacob supposed. At home, Jacob composed more reports, including a note about the twins’ experience, and sent it all back home easily using the satellite phone, which appeared to work quite well under the first completely clear sky since it had arrived.
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