Genie pulled her nightgown over her head. The worn linen settled over her skin like an old friend. “Not a one. People were seated in the aisle.”
“That’s the way it was in Thailand, too. Too many people and not enough airplanes.” She plucked at the bedspread, her expression turning sad. “Did Marcus tell you that’s how we lost so many of us?”
Genie hesitated. “He said the Japanese overran the mission.”
“We were supposed to leave a week earlier. Marcus had been worried for months because Phibun, the prime minister, had been steadily bargaining away the country’s freedom, trying to prevent a Japanese occupation.” She paused. “Thailand means ‘Land of the Free.’ Did you know that? It seems rather ironic now.
“Anyway, Marcus heard rumors that there were going to be flights out of Bangkok ahead of the Japanese invasion. So we journeyed the twenty miles south to the royal air base, even though John was desperately sick. But there weren’t enough airplanes, or rather airplanes that weren’t already commandeered by the military. We were told to come back. That was December 6. Two days later Bangkok fell, and we were trapped.”
She stopped and bit her lip as a tear slid down her cheek. She dashed it away, almost angrily.
“You returned to the mission?” Genie asked gently, even though she knew the answer.
Lavinia nodded and opened her mouth as if to speak. Instead, a choked sob escaped, and she crumpled into a ball. As if a dam had been breached, tears slid down her face unceasing as she rocked in silent misery, her fist pressed to her mouth to smother any sound.
Genie’s chest ached as she sank down beside the young widow. It was clear from the depth of her grief that Lavinia must have truly loved her husband, despite her earlier protestation. As for the rest of her tale, Genie couldn’t even imagine living through so much horror, especially since Lavinia couldn’t be much older than Genie herself was. If anything, she might even be a bit younger.
On impulse she hugged her, hoping to convey comfort.
A shudder ran through the thin girl’s body, and she pushed herself back. “Don’t touch me. I”—she scooted a little farther away, her breathing ragged—“I’m fine. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Genie wasn’t surprised, considering all Lavinia had been through recently. “I’m sorry I upset you. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s all right.” Lavinia smiled as if to reassure Genie, but it was too fleeting to work. “Go to sleep. Lord knows that’s what I’m going to do as soon as you turn out that light.”
Afraid anything she might say would only make the situation worse, Genie silently turned out the light and then crawled into bed.
Ted was twirling her, and she knew she was back at the 300 Club, though all she could see was his handsome dark eyes smiling into her own. The troubles of the day melted off her as she leaned back in his arms, her long skirts wrapping themselves around her legs, making it hard to dance. She was laughing in exasperation, trying to shake her legs free, when a little monkey raced across the floor, startling her.
Then the music dissolved into a discordant jangle as white-coated waiters chased after it. In growing unease, she watched as the tiny creature jumped onto one of the crystal chandeliers. The glass beads tinkled sharply as the lights began to rock dangerously while the frightened animal jumped from one to another and then another. The rocking became wilder and wilder, the base of the chandelier starting to tear loose from the ceiling. She turned and reached in a blind panic for Ted just as it crashed on top of him. In a heart-stopping instant, everything went black, vanishing completely except for a loud steady pounding.
She listened in terror, wondering what new calamity was about to strike.
It took a few seconds, but then she realized it was her heartbeat thudding in her ears, and she was awake. A little shiver ran along her skin. Edgy and aching for Ted’s presence, she turned over on the mattress and stared out into the dark.
A silvery glow around the edge of the shade beckoned her.
Since she was awake anyway, she eased out of bed, careful not to make any sounds that might wake Lavinia. Crossing the room, she pulled back the edge of the shade. The buildings and streets outside her window were awash with moonlight. She wondered where Ted was sleeping tonight, if he were somewhere nearby. If only she could go back in time to those nights on the trail, when he had slept not ten feet from her, she would know what he looked like, relaxed and asleep in the moonlight. Or maybe not so asleep . . . Her lips curved as she remembered their kiss.
“Genie.” Lavinia’s whisper made her jump guiltily.
Spinning around, she saw Lavinia’s shadowy figure sitting up on the couch. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No.” Lavinia seemed to shiver slightly, and then she freed herself of the blankets and padded softly across the ornate carpet to stand beside Genie at the window. She looked out at the dark buildings across the street. “I was already awake. And wondering if you cared who accompanies us to America, Marcus or Mr. Sterling?”
“Not really.”
“I think . . . I think I would prefer your Mr. Sterling—that is, if you truly have no plans of your own to marry him.”
“I don’t,” Genie assured her quickly.
“Good, because I think Marcus might agree to stay behind if Mr. Sterling and I were to become engaged.”
Genie blinked. “Engaged? You’ve only known him a few hours. And you’ve been widowed less than a month; you can’t know what your heart is feeling yet.”
“My heart has nothing to say in the matter; I’m only interested in survival. At dinner he mentioned he wanted to start his own mission in Africa, as soon as he found a wife who would help him. Do you think he could be persuaded I am that person?”
She stared at the young widow for a moment, wondering if the girl was out of her mind. “You can’t be serious.”
“I know you don’t like him, but if he married me”—Lavinia rubbed her arms as if chilled—“I would be out from under Marcus’s thumb.”
“Lavinia, no. You’d only be jumping from the pan into the fire.”
Eyes washed silver in the moonlight turned to Genie, their intensity almost frightening. “As long as he doesn’t beat me, I’m willing to risk it. Because I can’t go home, Genie, and there’s only one way Marcus will let me board the ship without him: if I’m under the oversight of a soon-to-be husband.”
Genie shook her head. “No, there’s got to be—”
“There isn’t.” Lavinia’s slender fingers grabbed Genie’s arm with surprising strength. “I cannot pass backward through time to return to my love, so if I’m to live, my only way forward is to marry Nathan. I’m not asking you to understand, only for you to help me. Please.”
Genie hesitated. Would she be doing harm by agreeing to help? Lavinia seemed so sure this was what she wanted, and Nathan wasn’t a bad man. He had never lifted a hand against her, no matter how vexed, and it wasn’t as if Lavinia didn’t understand what being a missionary wife would entail. Would it be so different from the arranged marriages back home, in China, where the bride and groom sometimes didn’t even meet until the ceremony?
If it’s what she wants . . . Genie could almost hear Li Ming’s gentle, practical voice in her ear. Could almost see her dearest friend shrug her delicate shoulders as if to say, “Why not?” Has she not known enough sorrow in her short life?
Genie exhaled her doubts and threw caution to the wind. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do my best.”
Chapter 16
“Panta rei,” Nathan told Genie four emotionally draining days later. “The only constant is change,” he continued, needlessly translating her father’s favorite quotation from Heraclitus as they left the Bombay consulate. “And besides, I thought you liked Mrs. Schmidt.”
“I do,” she said as she watched her brand-new passport get tucked into his coat pocket. It still irked her that the clerk in the office had handed it to Nathan without the slightest hesitation, even t
hough she had been standing right there. “But are you sure you want to marry her?”
“Absolutely. She’s attractive, young, God-fearing, and has a pleasant personality.” The last bit was no doubt a jab at her. “I’m sure she’ll be a marvelous mother to our children.”
Genie tried not to dwell on the nauseating thought as she followed him down the sidewalk. How her friend had managed to spend the entire train trip gazing up at Nathan in utter rapture, while Nathan went on and on about how her life could be improved through careful reading of the Bible and by following his instructions, was beyond Genie. She would have strangled Nathan in the first twelve hours.
It had gotten to the point where Genie was forced to leave the compartment on a regular basis to save her sanity. Even more telling, by the end of the trip, Brother Marcus had taken to joining her on her walks through the train.
If it hadn’t been for her talks with Lavinia at night, when the widow seemed to shed Nathan like a skin and the world seemed to right itself, Genie would have given up all hope on their friendship. Instead, their late-night musings had given her tantalizing glimpses into Lavinia’s past, deepening Genie’s affection for the widow.
They had compared childhoods, which were more similar than not. Both had come from conservative religious families and had been raised in farming communities, though Genie had never actually worked as a farmer. Both had been schooled by their fathers, though Lavinia had benefited from having a mother who was willing to teach her how to cook. Zhenzhu had jealously guarded her kitchen, telling Genie she should devote her energies elsewhere.
Lavinia had told Genie about her best friend, Anna Christina, growing up, and how they would climb trees together. Genie, in turn, had told Lavinia about Li Ming and her amazing gifts with weaving and embroidery. Lavinia had turned wistful at that, saying it was one of her trials in life to love beautiful fabric but to have absolutely no talent when it came to creating it or using it. Her wedding dress had been a borrowed one from one of her sisters . . .
“Are you sure she’s even ready to remarry?” she asked Nathan as they headed toward the harbor. Genie frowned slightly as it occurred to her that Lavinia’s reminiscing had stopped at her marriage. “She’s only been a widow since December. I doubt she’s had time to grieve.”
“Brother Marcus and I actually talked about that. He’s of the opinion—and after the last four days, I feel compelled to concur—that remarriage is exactly what she needs. That her recent spate of disobedience was likely tied to her being mooring-less, adrift without male guidance.”
She almost snorted. If anything, Lavinia had been rebelling against male interference. On the other hand, his conclusion seemed to be exactly the one Lavinia had wanted him to draw: that she would behave—or at least behave better—under Nathan’s watch.
Brother Marcus waved to them from his place in line on the jetty. Lavinia was nowhere to be seen.
“We’re all set,” Nathan told Marcus as they joined him in line. “You have the tickets?”
“And your luggage as well,” Marcus said, handing Nathan an envelope. “As soon as the purser has checked all your documents, you’ll have to get a health screening from the ship’s surgeon.” Marcus pointed to another line farther down the dock. “And then once he clears you, you’ll be free to board. Sister Lavinia is already aboard and waiting for you.”
Genie looked up at the enormous gray ship and wondered if her new friend was somewhere up there peering down at them. The ship took up the entire length of the dock and soared nearly eight stories into the air. The sheer distance between the lowermost deck and the water made her dizzy. Less a ship than a floating mountain. The harbor waves washed up and splashed restlessly against the hull, rocking the smaller boats motoring by, but not the ship.
She squinted into the noonday sun, at the ring of decks that proclaimed the vessel’s prewar heritage as a cruise ship. Sticklike appendages jutted off the uppermost decks.
“Are those guns?” she asked as a chill ran down her back.
“Of course,” Nathan said, an impatient edge to his voice. “There is a war going on, Eugenia. Do you really think the captain is going to sail a military vessel through enemy-infested waters without some manner of defending himself?”
“I guess . . . I guess I didn’t think about it.”
“Obviously.”
The line inched forward, and Genie couldn’t decide if she wanted it to go faster or slower. As tired as she was of standing, she was in no hurry to get on board, either. As long as she stayed on shore, she could cling to the very faint hope that everything would fall through, and she could go home to China.
Brother Marcus cleared his throat. “The boat isn’t scheduled to depart until four. Would the two of you care to join me in town until then? Once all your paperwork is approved, of course.”
“Perhaps I will,” Nathan said as they advanced toward the purser. In preparation, he pulled her passport along with his own from his pocket. “Genie will go aboard as soon as she clears the health screening.”
“Actually, I’d like to go shopping.” Her fingers itched to yank her passport out of his hand. “I’d love to pick up a newspaper, to see if there’s any news of home. And I haven’t had a chance to buy a single souvenir so far.”
“And how are you going to afford all those purchases?” he asked coldly.
“With my father’s money, of course. I’m sure there’s enough to spare for a few gifts. They don’t have to be expensive. I’m sure Zhenzhu and Li Ming would be thrilled with anything from Indi—”
Nathan cut her off. “And once you buy said gifts, then what? You do know it’s unlikely the parcels will get delivered. Not with the war on.”
“Maybe not right away, but my father travels to Kweilin at least once a year. That’s where he goes to pick up letters from my aunt.”
“The last one being three years ago.”
Her heart skipped a beat and then two. “But the letters in his desk—”
“Are all old. For all your father knows, your aunt might not be alive. It was one of his concerns about this trip.”
The cacophony of the wharf faded as she searched Nathan’s face for some sign he was lying. He wasn’t. Her stomach twisted painfully. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
Nathan shrugged. “He didn’t want you to worry. And if we had continued our engagement, it would’ve been immaterial. I would’ve taken care of you, no matter what.”
“But now I’m on my own?” Disbelief and a kind of horror stole her breath.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’d hardly abandon a woman to the streets. I only brought it up so you would understand the situation and be prepared.”
“Prepared to wait out the war without friend or family, you mean.”
She looked across the broad jetty toward the exotic buildings of Bombay. The sight no longer entranced her as it had several hours earlier. Now it only reminded her of how terrifyingly far she was from home.
“Perhaps Sister Eugenia could come into town with me?” Brother Marcus asked calmly, reminding them both of his presence. “Sometimes even the closest of traveling companions can benefit from time apart.”
“Would you mind?” Nathan said, surprising her. She expected him to refuse strictly out of spite. “I could finish my errands more quickly unencumbered.”
“It would be my pleasure. You have taken a load off my shoulders. I would be remiss not to return the favor.”
“Thank you, and all will be fine. She will be fine; don’t worry,” Nathan replied rather cryptically.
Marcus hesitated and then nodded.
At last the purser, fully dressed in a white US Navy uniform, checked her and Nathan’s tickets, passports, and luggage. Finding it all acceptable, he entered them onto the passenger manifest and then pointed them toward the line to see the ship’s physician. After a quick physical inspection and being asked about exposure to any communicable diseases, they were handed a green card to present to the officer on dec
k. They were also given strict orders to be aboard no later than three thirty. Latecomers would be left behind. No exceptions.
“Don’t make me regret my decision,” Nathan said coldly as they walked across the crowded pier to rejoin Brother Marcus. “I’m depending on you to behave.”
“I’m not a child, Nathan,” she snapped.
“Good. Keep that in mind.”
With an effort, she schooled her expression into one of resigned compliance, an effort she had to redouble when Nathan handed Marcus money along with her passport. The desire to snatch both away from him and then tell Nathan off burned hot within her. Only fear of what her father might think should word of such bad behavior get back to him restrained her. It wasn’t until Nathan disappeared into the crowd that she allowed herself to breathe again.
“Thank you for offering to shop with me,” Genie said, finally turning to face Marcus. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the States with us instead of Nathan?”
He smiled ruefully. “What I want does not matter. Our lives are all in the Lord’s hands, and I now suspect it His wish that I continue His work here in India.”
“But don’t you wish you could go home?”
“My home,” he said slowly, his gaze sliding out over the jetty, “is wherever I am. That way it can never be taken from me. It is a good way to live.” He glanced back at her, his eyes shadowed with pain. “A path you might wish to pursue.”
“Because the Japanese might overrun my village like they did your mission?” She drew a deep breath to dispel the sudden wave of anxiety that accompanied that thought. Lord, keep them all safe. She exhaled and refocused on the conversation at hand. “Lavinia never speaks of it, but she has these terrible nightmares . . .”
“My sister is plagued by many demons,” he said with a weary sigh. “Which is why I wanted to thank you for your kindness to her. Her life hasn’t been easy, even before the massacre.”
A Girl Divided Page 17