Something to Believe

by Robbi McCoy

  Cassie ran after her and grabbed her by the arm. “You can’t do that. You have to stay with the group.”

  Jennifer shook her arm free. “Leave me alone! I’m going back.”

  Cassie stood where she was, watching Jennifer weaving her way through the market. Lauren came up behind her and touched her shoulder. Cassie turned, looked at her solemnly, then attempted a smile.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why she’s acting like this.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lauren said, taking her arm. “People get tense on vacation. Happens to everyone. Come on. We’ve fallen behind.”

  The blue flag was marching off in the distance, so the three of them hurried to catch up.

  “She shouldn’t have gone off like that,” Faith said. “I’m going to tell Meilin.”

  Lauren nodded. “Good idea. She’s going to find out somebody’s missing anyway when she does her next count.”

  Faith went ahead to talk to the guide. The group was now heading outside, emerging from the market into the dampened light of a cloudy afternoon. They gathered together outside the exit, a loose group, atwitter with the excitement of the wonderful sights they had just seen.

  Faith returned. “She’s really agitated now.”

  Sure enough, Meilin started barking orders at them as if they were a unit of army recruits. Her diminutive stature did not make her any less menacing. They were to stay close and follow the blue flag. They were not to wander off. But before that, they were to line up to be counted. They obeyed without hesitation, as if trying to make up for their renegade member with military-style precision. When the count was over, one person short, Meilin shot a disapproving glance at Faith. It must be her fault that Jennifer was missing, she seemed to imply, since she was the one who had reported it.

  Nancy nudged up close to Pamela, who was standing to Lauren’s right and asked, “What happened?”

  “Lovers’ quarrel,” Pamela whispered.

  Nancy nodded knowingly, glancing at Cassie.

  Meilin made a phone call, then summoned them to attention and marched them back through the streets to the ship with no stops. Lauren walked beside Cassie, who was understandably subdued. It would be extremely embarrassing, she thought, to have your partner say “fuck you” in public like that. It would be bad enough in private. Lauren herself was still stunned by it. She couldn’t imagine Faith ever saying such a thing to her.

  As they walked down the concrete steps toward the river bank, Cassie said, “I hope she made it back.”

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. When they boarded, they found out Jennifer had not come back. Meilin’s call to the ship had put the crew on alert, so they’d been waiting. There had been no sign of her.

  When Cassie heard this, she started to panic. “I’ll go back. I’ll go find her.”

  As she headed for the gangway, a male crew member stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

  “Cassie,” Faith said, “they won’t let you go. And they’re right. You don’t know your way around. You don’t speak the language.”

  “But—”

  “They’re sending out a couple of ship hands.”

  “We’re going to sail in an hour,” Cassie said, glancing toward shore.

  “They’ll find her,” Faith said firmly. “Let’s go have dinner. By the time we’re done, she’ll be back on board.”

  Cassie pulled aside. “I’m going to wait here until they get back. You two go ahead. I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ll wait here with you,” Lauren offered.

  “No.” Cassie turned to look into Lauren’s eyes, revealing how troubled she was. “There’s no point, Lauren. You go to dinner. I’d rather you did.”

  Lauren nodded, then followed Faith to the dining room where everyone was now aware that Jennifer was missing. Faith explained in abbreviated details that Jennifer had not felt well and had, rather unwisely, decided to return to the ship on her own. Those who had been there and had heard the exchange between Jen and Cassie didn’t contradict her account, not openly anyway.

  “White slavery,” said one of the older men. “They nabbed her for the white slave trade. Cute young girl like that. That’s the way they do it. Take them right off the street, throw a burlap sack over their heads and you never see them again.”

  “Oh, God!” Faith said under her breath to Lauren, “I’m so glad Cassie isn’t here to hear that idiot.”

  Their table of six was more than usually quiet, since Cassie was absent and Faith was not in the mood for conversation. When the omnipresent watermelon arrived at the table, Lauren set aside some sesame chicken, stir-fried Chinese broccoli and three wedges of watermelon on Cassie’s empty plate.She took it up on deck, finding Cassie where she’d left her, standing at the railing looking out over the town.

  “Brought you something to eat,” she said.

  Cassie glanced at the plate, smiling appreciatively. “How do you know my favorite things?”

  “Food is something I pay attention to. You said how much you liked the sesame chicken the first day and I saw you take three helpings of broccoli at lunch yesterday. And everyone knows your favorite part of the meal is always the watermelon. No great powers of deduction required.”

  “That was very thoughtful.” Cassie sat on a bench and ate a piece of chicken. Lauren sat beside her.

  “If they don’t find her before we leave,” Lauren said, “you know they’ll just bring her to Fengdu by car.”

  Cassie looked up and cocked her head. “Is there a road to Fengdu?”

  Lauren laughed lightly, thankful for Cassie’s sense of humor. “I don’t actually know. Never bothered to check that out, since we were coming by boat.”

  Cassie ate most of her food, including all of the watermelon, then put the plate down on the bench. “Jen is usually more easy-going than she’s been the last couple of days. I think she’s a little intimidated by you and Faith. She’s not really into these topics we’ve been talking about. Literature, history, science. Not her thing.”

  Not interested in the things you’re most passionate about? Lauren thought, then asked, “What is her thing?”

  “Sports, for one. She loves to watch all kinds of sports. We go to see the Lobos play all the time. Baseball, football, basketball.”

  “Lobos?”

  “That’s our university team.”

  “I’m not much for sports myself, but Faith is. She’s a fanatic over baseball. Maybe those two can find some common ground there. I’ll mention it to her as a conversation topic. For tomorrow.”

  Cassie glanced at her watch. “If she makes it.” She stood up to watch at the railing again and Lauren did the same. They both caught sight of Jennifer simultaneously at the entrance to the dock, standing with a tall Chinese boy, gesturing emphatically as if in an argument.

  “Jen!” Cassie hollered, waving, then she ran over to the gangway where she was again prevented from leaving the ship.

  Lauren followed, watching Jennifer as she handed the boy some money, then turned to run up the gangway. The man at the top of the ramp opened the gate for her, then shut it with a bang behind her.

  Jennifer flew into Cassie’s arms and they hugged each other enthusiastically.

  “I’m so sorry I did that,” Jennifer said. “So stupid! I’m such a jerk.”

  “I’m just glad you made it back,” Cassie said, then kissed her. “I was so worried. What happened?”

  Cassie held Jennifer’s face in her hands, having forgotten all about Lauren, who took a couple steps back, planning an unobtrusive exit.

  “I got turned around,” Jennifer explained. “Went out the wrong door or something. That damn market was huge. It took me a while to realize I was lost. Then it took a while to find a guy who spoke English. He led me back to the dock. Then he wanted a hundred dollars! Do you believe that? Asshole! I gave him twenty.”

  Lauren went downstairs and reported that Jennifer was on board and the search could be called off. Fi
fteen minutes later the search party was also aboard and they were pulling away from the dock and on the way to Fengdu.

  Chapter Ten

  The following morning, Faith and Lauren got up early to sit on their balcony to watch the shore drift past. Faith ran down to the dining room to bring back two mugs of coffee that sat on the little table between them, along with two of the mandarin oranges.

  Every so often, something of interest would draw their attention, such as a thin waterfall cascading down the cliff wall. They passed a grotto with a small temple built into it, then some Chinese letters carved deeply into a smooth slab of rock. They couldn’t read these inscriptions, nor did they know how old they were, but as they passed the markers showing the expected new water level, it was clear that all of these things would be underwater in a few years.

  Lauren had her journal open, and occasionally jotted a note.

  “Fengdu should be a fascinating place,” Faith said. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. We should be able to see both the old city on this side and new one on the other. That should give an interesting perspective of the impact of the flooding.”

  “Fortunately, a lot of the ghost city on Ming Mountain will be above the water level, so it will be saved.”

  Lauren leaned back with her coffee and perched her feet on the balcony railing. “Do you remember why they call it that, the ghost city?”

  “Some old folk tale that said the king of the underworld resides there. Supposed to be a place full of devils. Or a place where the spirits of the dead come to be reborn. Either way, not inhabited by living humans.”

  “So it’s a ghost town in more than one sense.”

  Faith nodded, then took a drink of her coffee. “There are more than seventy temples in the ancient city, which is supposed to be the gateway to the underworld. Basically, it’s a recreation of Chinese hell through statues and inscriptions. Should be a lot of fun.”

  Lauren laughed, then took one of the tangerines and easily slipped off the peel. She broke the fruit in two and handed half to Faith. As Faith bit into it, juice ran down her chin. Lauren reached over with a napkin and wiped it off.

  “Thanks,” said Faith. “These things are heavenly.”

  Watching the river, Lauren saw a group of women in the water up to their knees. “What’s this?” She stood and leaned against the railing to get a better look. More of the women came into view.

  Faith stood beside her. “They’re washing clothes,” she observed.

  The women were bent over, scrubbing clothes on wash boards. Higher up along the river bank were earthen-colored houses, all small, all plain, surrounded by bare ground. These houses were different from most they’d seen, the familiar multi-storied apartments that appeared in every city and town. These were single-family homes of a simpler sort, occupied by farmers. There were no cars, no garages.

  “It’s wash day!” Lauren announced.

  Faith waved at the women and a couple of them waved back.

  “Do you think those houses will be flooded when the dam’s built?” Lauren asked.

  “There’s no doubt they will.”

  Lauren sat back in her chair and wrote in her journal for a couple minutes, then set it down on the table. “I’m going to get another cup of coffee,” she said. “You want one?”

  “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

  Lauren left with the mugs and Faith sat back in her balcony chair watching the hills float by. What a wonderful morning, she thought. So peaceful and cozy. Faith read what was written on the open page of Lauren’s journal. She recognized some of the sights they’d seen so far this morning.

  Old walls of cobblestones, glued together with earth and moss, remnants of some long-vanished settlement, stand crumbling on shore. Jutting white spires of rock, capped by a woolly mantle of forest greenery, form a vertical palette for some ancient calligrapher. Thin, curling fingers of smoke-like clouds slither down to touch the churning current, smelling like they look—wet and gray. Barges laden with heaps of coal push upstream. Horizontal stripes of bright yellow-green crops line up on narrow terraces cut into the steep hillside, rising up on its flank and into the clouds. The sky sits heavily on the tops of mountains as if it has sagged down to rest there under too much weight. Washerwomen stand in the mud-colored river up to their knees, scrubbing clothes, their baskets on shore, chattering with one another in high-pitched choruses of communal contentment. Behind them, several small junks tug at their moorings and somewhere in the mountains, someone is blowing out a call on a horn. Not a musical instrument, but something organic—the horn of an animal.

  It struck Faith, reading these details, that everyone’s memories of this place would be significantly colored by what he or she took away—in photos or notes or actual memories, with the memories being the most transient and faulty. Those who took only photos would forget the smells and sounds. But more than that, they would forget their impressions at the time. Lauren was capturing the total sensual experience. She was exceptional at capturing that. Sixty-four identical photos of Wu Gorge might find their way into photo albums when their companions returned home, but these memories of Lauren’s were hers alone.

  If she’s willing to share, though, Faith thought, smiling to herself, a few of these details might also find themselves into my article on the hanging coffins of the Bo.

  A few minutes passed before a small village came into view. A dozen sampans with their distinctive curved sails bobbed in the water. Faith took the camera and snapped several photos, hoping Lauren would return in time to see this. She heard the door open behind her. “Lauren, come here!”

  Lauren hurried over and set the coffee on the table, then leaned over the railing to watch the boats. Faith watched Lauren, her beaming face, her hair blowing back from her forehead, and felt a wave of affection that prompted her to pull her close and kiss her cheek. Lauren turned to look at her, her expression serene, then they both sat down to wait for the next bit of excitement.

  The warmth of the coffee mug was welcome between Faith’s palms. The morning was chilly, especially out here on the balcony, but not cold enough to drive them inside.

  “I saw Jen and Cassie in the dining room,” Lauren said. “They both seem very happy this morning. No lingering negative impact from yesterday, not that I could see anyway.”

  “Good. I get the feeling they’re used to fighting and making up.”

  Lauren sipped her coffee tentatively, steam rising past her nose. “What do you suppose they have in common? I can’t really see that they have much. I mean, Cassie seems to have a lot more in common with me, for instance, than with Jennifer.”

  “Well, they love each other.”

  “I know, but that’s my question. Why do they love each other?”

  “Have you seen that Jennifer?” Faith laughed lightly.

  Lauren scowled. “Seriously.”

  “It’s hard to say what draws two people together. I mean, look at us. I’m beautiful and you’re homely. I’m brilliant and you’re a simpleton. I’m insightful and compassionate and—”

  “Oh, stop!” Lauren slapped playfully at Faith. “You’re arrogant is what you are!”

  Faith grinned as Lauren settled back in her chair. “Why two people love one another is one of the unanswerable mysteries of the universe. It’s so mysterious, in fact, that traditionally people relegate it to a function of the soul. Your elusive, inexplicable soul is the part of you that falls in love.”

  “But you don’t believe in a soul,” Lauren noted.

  “No, not in the sense of a supernatural entity that never dies. But I do believe there’s something in each of us that’s unique and more than the sum of our physical parts, something that holds the key to our personal identity. In the perpetual search for self, it’s the thing we’re searching for. And it’s that part of us that falls in love.” Faith turned to look pointedly at Lauren. “And I do believe in love.”

  “I’m glad to hear you believe
in something.”

  “Everyone has to believe in something. I believe in the mystery and majesty of the human mind.”

  “Not the heart?”

  “The heart is just an organ that pumps blood. But the mind is where everything interesting takes place, including love.”

  “Of course I know that. The heart is merely a metaphor for love.” Lauren picked up another mandarin and tore off its peel. “Where did that idea originate, do you think, that love was the business of the heart?”

  “I don’t know.” Faith sipped her coffee, then said, “That reminds me of the Egyptian feather test. Did I ever tell you that one?”

  Lauren shook her head and handed half the mandarin to Faith.

  “In Egyptian mythology, when someone died, their heart, which was considered the location of the soul, was placed on a scale to be weighed against a feather from Maat, the goddess of truth. If the heart and feather were in balance, the person was allowed into the Field of Reeds, their paradise.”

  “And if their heart was heavy?”

  “Then a monster ate it and they ceased to exist.”

  Lauren looked thoughtful. “Is that the origin of the expression, to have a heart as light as a feather?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “That’s a good story,” Lauren observed. “I think you would pass that test.”

  Faith smiled. “Do you?”

  “Yes, without a doubt. You’re lighthearted. No problem for you to get through to the Field of Reeds.”

  “If I am lighthearted, it’s because I’m in love.” Faith cast a sideways glance at Lauren as she ate a section of the orange.

  Lauren smiled, taking hold of her hand. “Me too.”

  “Love is one of those intangible universals,” Faith said. “It’s something that’s highly valued in every human society. Even God isn’t as universal as love. The Nootka, for instance, don’t worship a god. They believe in magic and animal spirits and such, but no divine personage, no creator or ruler.”

  “Really? That’s interesting. I guess I thought God was universal.”