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As Pedro moved away, the front door to his cabin opened and a beautiful young woman stepped outside carrying two coffee cups. She stepped to the ground and handed Davy and Danny the cups. She said something in Spanish.
Davy looked at Danny. “This is Pedro’s wife, Juanita. She says she is honored to have us visit her home.”
With that, she hugged the two ministers and returned inside.
Danny crossed his legs and took a sip of his coffee. “These are the huggingest people I have ever seen. I think it’s wonderful.”
“I do too, don’t you wish everyone was that way?”
“I can promise you one thing, this would be a much better world.”
“Yes, and it looks like Pedro is back with Signor Fuentes.”
Pedro introduced the old gentleman.
“Pedro, please explain to Signor Fuentes that we are honored, but feel we have done nothing to deserve what your people have given us.”
“I have explained this to Signor Fuentes, and he understands English.”
“Sir,” said Davy, “Please understand it is no disrespect for your more than generous gift, but we cannot accept it, it is too much.”
“You would do what you have done and expect nothing in return?”
“Sir, Signor Fuentes, we have been doing this kind of thing all our lives. When we were children, we used to give bullies a bloody nose for taking the other kid’s lunch money. For us, it’s just the thing to do. We expect nothing, we ask for nothing.”
“I understand. I have listened to you. Now, will you listen to me?”
“Certainly, Sir.”
“Many years ago my people came to this area to pick your crops, to tend your fields, to do your work. We were greeted with less than human places to sleep, terrible housing, beds full of bugs and vermin and unimaginable conditions. Sometimes it was worse than what we had left at home. Several people said 'no'  to what was offered and knowing that they would be returning year after year, started the place you see here. I am told it began with two cabins on a single acre of land. Over the years, it has grown to what you see here now. Each person who comes here pays a small amount to stay. Though it is small, that amount pays for the upkeep and maintenance. That way, if someone wishes to return here year after year, he has a clean, decent place to live. Some have decided to stay here. And here, they are around their own people. They are happy.”
“Yes, Mr. Fuentes, but–“
”No, let me finish. The one, I believe you people say ‘the bug in the ointment’–“
”The fly in the ointment,” injected Davy.
“Yes,” smiled Fuentes. “The fly in the ointment is our church. It is a beautiful church. It is a place to feel close to God. Yet, none of your people wish to be a part of our church. Oh, some do-gooder missionaries come here off and on, but they are soon gone because they want no part of us strange people with our strange language and strange customs.”
Davy and Danny looked at each other. It was sad.
Fuentes continued, “Years ago, we were told that things were the way they were and if we made trouble, I believe you say ‘made waves’ we would have to leave this country. So, we made no waves. We accepted what was offered. At the same time, what you call an urban legend began. The legend said that one day, a man would come who did not fear the landowners, or the police, and he would make things better for our people. We have waited for this man for years, this Messiah, and you two are that Messiah. For years, we have waited for this man and have built this place with the plan to give it to him. The money the people pay is more than enough to keep the church in better than excellent repair, and. . . more than enough to provide our padre with adequate needs.”
“Whew,” said Danny as he sipped the last of his coffee.
“Whew is right,” agreed Davy. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Mr. Fuentes,” said Danny, I don’t know what to say about this Messiah thing. I assure you we are not Messiahs and God did not send us here. You call this place Camp Eden.”
“Yes, Eden, the beginning,” said the old man. “It is a place for a good life in a wonderful new country. And as far as God not sending you here, something did. How would you explain it? Something made you stop where the men were picking peaches, how are you certain it wasn’t God?”
“You were told about the incident at the orchard?”
“We all know about it.”
Danny looked at Davy, neither knew what to say.
“Might I suggest the two of you go into the church and speak with each other. Give me a minute and I will have it prepared.”
Fuentes motioned to two of the several people who had gathered around. They scurried off toward the church.
“Will you do that for me, Padres? Will you talk with each other in the church?”
Davy and Danny nodded.