Generous Orchid - Chapters 25 and 26
Love your enemies. . . ?
Much of Jesus’ teachings felt upside down in his time.
The first shall be last.
I am the way.
Do not worry about your life, what you will eat and drink.
Love your enemies.
If we are honest, they seem just as startling today and yet this upside-down teaching and example changed the world. Consider that Jesus was on the earth for only three years. He entered a climate of power and authority, and flipped the hearts of people toward God through the power of love.
In today’s chapters, loving your enemy takes on a different weight. It’s easy to say words, but living those words in the face of adversity is much more challenging. We won’t pretend it’s easy. We won’t pretend that it always makes sense, and yet throughout history we find that love — even when it’s raw and messy and we are unsure — leaves a mark. If not on others, it changes our own heart and the way we see the world and ourselves.
If you need to catch up, the following contains links to past chapters.
Thank you for joining me on this novel adventure.
Suzie
If you need to catch up with previous chapters, here’s the links just for you.
Following that, you’ll find the next two chapters in the novel, Generous Orchid.
Chapters Thirteen and Fourteen
Chapter Seventeen and Eighteen
Part Two
October, 1895
TELEGRAPH
To: Clara Stiles, Covington, KY
From: Annabelle Hannah Rhodes, Tientsin, China
Please place a Kentucky rose upon the grave of my beloved papa. STOP
Generous Orchid, Chapter 25
Annabelle swiped a curl out of her eyes. Her colleagues bustled around her as she knelt to assure the little boy crying in his mother’s arms.
“I promise it won’t be long,” she said.
Annabelle was finally fluent after four years of working in the clinic. While studying with Joseph had built a foundation, it was moments like these that sharpened her grasp on the language — sitting with an anxious mother-to-be or scooping up a child that was afraid of needles and making them laugh with a silly joke.
She knew the names of many of the patients, and privately she knew their stories. Some had come to embrace the Christian faith, and a small home church had sprung up nearby. She was still in awe as Dr. Wong prayed with a handful of his patients each day.
Though it had taken time to connect with those who walked through the doors of the clinic, Annabelle had to admit that Thomas was often the link between them. In the early days he cooed at all the women, holding out his arms, oblivious to language or cultural differences, and many were won over.
She glanced at her son nestled not far away looking at a book. As Thomas grew from an infant to a toddler to a four-year-old little boy, he learned to stay out of the chaos. He was happy to play with the other children or to simply observe the doctor, nurses, and his mother as if studying a lesson. Annabelle often joked that her second son came out of her womb an old soul.
It was sometimes unsettling to think that Thomas only had memories of Tientsin. He didn’t know his grandparents, his aunts, uncles, or cousins. Letters from family remained Annabelle’s only tie to home. Those letters spoke of family dinners, community events, marriages, deaths, and births. When her father passed away, the news nearly broke her heart. She longed to flee home for the funeral, but could not leave her sons and husband for the time it would take for the long journey. She grieved the loss of her stubborn, always-loving father in her heart for weeks.
The sun was dipping, and the gates had been closed for another day. Annabelle gathered her bag, took the hand of her son, and called out to the nurses that would show up the next day, and the next. At first she had felt a bit guilty at working only one day a week, yet all hands were needed and they welcomed her with open arms.
A couple of hours later, the cart finally pulled close to the school. Annabelle steered the horse nearer to the door. It was nearly dark but a lantern burned inside as Joseph worked with a handful of boys that came after school for an hour twice a week. The school had changed little in the past few years. Though she and Joseph once lived under a threat of the school closing, it had never taken place. Joseph waited for the anvil to drop the first few weeks after the threats, but miraculously they never came to fruition. They eventually continued as if nothing were amiss. Fathers still lingered outside the door, sons placed in front of them, their hopes high that they might find an education. Weeks passed, then months, and finally years. New students replaced old students as they left to pursue jobs or opportunities or to work with family.
William sauntered out of the class just then, lighting up when he saw Annabelle. He was nearing 12 years old. He was tall and slender as a reed. His freckles had faded, and his red hair tamed. She and Joseph often looked in wonder at their son. His voice cracked when he talked. He was growing so fast that Annabelle kept extra fabric to add a hem to his dungarees, and his toes were pushing at the end of his shoes.
William waved at her. “Zhijian is here!”
A few boys spilled out, ready to rush home and eat their long-awaited dinner. Annabelle climbed down, reached for Thomas, and set him on the ground. Joseph came out of the classroom, followed by an unfamiliar young man.
She gasped when she realized it was Zhijian.
He left at 17 to live near Sunsoo’s father, who tutored him. Now he was 19. The former rickshaw driver’s plans were to teach one day, perhaps even in a university. Word had come that he had passed his initial exams with flying colors. He had years to go, but was well on his way. Annabelle marveled at the changed young man. His clothing was free and clean from the dust and dirt that used to cling to him. His black hair was tightly combed back with a long braid that hung down his neck. He had turned into a handsome young man.
Joseph’s smile broke wide open when he saw her. She reached up and pecked him on the cheek. “I left later than usual. The clinic was overrun with patients. I thought you might enjoy a ride home,” she said.
Joseph picked Thomas up and swung him around, and the boy wrapped his hands around his father’s neck with glee. “It won’t be long before you catch up with your brother, little man,” he said.
“Brudder is bigger,” Thomas said. “And faster.”
Annabelle laughed. “That is true, but I’m afraid you’ll soon catch him.” She turned to Zhijian. “Welcome, friend. I didn’t know you were home.”
“I needed to speak to the professor in private,” he said. He bowed to Annabelle. “It’s so good to see you.”
William stood nearby, clearly admiring his old friend. Just this past year William had started helping Joseph instruct the younger boys. He had the heart of a teacher like his father, but the classroom was never the same for him after Zhijian left.
Zhijian cleared his throat. His fingers tapped quietly on his thigh. He glanced at William, catching Annabelle’s eye.
“William, will you take your brother for a short walk? He’s been cooped up in this wagon for far too long.”
He reached for Thomas’ hand, and they ran to check out a runaway chicken down the road.
“What do you need to speak to me about?” Joseph asked.
Zhijian scuffed the ground with his foot. “Have you heard about the rebellion?”
“Which one?” Joseph replied.
China had engaged in multiple rebellions over the years. The most recent sprung up suddenly in mid-1894 due to a rebellion in Korea in which the rebels defeated the regular army. The Korean king appealed to China to come to their aid. China responded and fulfilled its treaty obligations and dispatched 2000 troops to Seoul. However, Japan demanded that China initiate several reforms within Korea, to which China replied indignantly that the affairs of Korea were of no concern to Japan. Thus, the two empires slid into a war that lasted a total of 8 months. Japan attacked a Chinese transport fleet in which 1200 soldiers and sailors perished and on land there was a two-pronged attack.
Yet that was in the past. Peace reigned once again.
Zhijian suddenly reminded Annabelle of the young boy who once sat in their classroom. His words did not come easily. “I came to visit my parents. My father was hired to take a group of men on a short trip this morning, and I helped him so that we could have time together this evening.” He hesitated. “As you know, his workload has immeasurably increased with my absence.”
Annabelle and Joseph waited as the young man looked around, his voice lowering.
“I followed them inside. It was a premonition, maybe, but I saw something I wish I hadn’t.”
Joseph leaned in, his words tight. “What did you see?”
“A sign. Many signs. One said, ‘Death to Foreigners’”.
Joseph sighed in relief. “We saw those same signs the very day we arrived over four years ago. This is nothing new. We have heard rumors of a rebellion from the very first day, and yet nothing has happened.”
Zhijian shook his head. “I know many of the men, and so do you. One was Junhui’s father, and his grandfather, the Tia-Po. Wu Zhen Ming stood in front of the group as if he were the leader. Men listened as if he were dripping honey from his tongue. He marched around the room, shouting that foreigners had taken food from their children. He said that it was our destiny to overthrow any who allowed foreigners to steal land and commerce. At the end, he held up a red piece of material and wrapped it around his shoulders, marching as if he were the Son of Heaven.”
Annabelle felt her knees give. “Perhaps it is all show, and no muscle.” Even as the words slipped from her mouth, she knew it wasn’t true.
“Ti-pao is much aged. He’s as gnarled as an old tree but his presence signals approval. There were other officials in attendance. Do you remember the man who came to your classroom so many years ago and threatened you? He was standing in the back, his arms crossed.”
“I still don’t understand how this involves us, Zhijian. Those same men have threatened us in the past, but nothing came of it.”
“Only because Sunsoo’s father intervened.”
Annabelle twirled around. “What are you saying?”
“He spoke on behalf of you and the professor. He may have saved your school, but one man cannot stand against a rising rebellion like this. It has grown from unrest to an organized movement.” He shuffled his feet. “Junhui’s father called out for vengeance on foreign devils and all who protect them. He said missionaries were primary devils and must be eradicated. He even spoke the professor’s name in front of the entire crowd, and they rumbled and roared in response.
Joseph grabbed the boy by his shoulders. “What did he say exactly?”
“He said you and your family infiltrated our society and were spies. He said you were shaping the minds of the children with western thought.” Zhijian looked up. “He said that it was bad enough that foreigners came to run our railroads and factories, but when they moved into our villages and mingled with our children, that it was war.”
“But his own son attends the school!” Joseph insisted.
“Yes, he addressed that too. He said Junhei was learning the English language, and would one day exact revenge, using the very tools you gave him.”
“Did they see you?” Joseph asked. “Are you in danger?”
“I slipped away. I am not in danger, but you are, sir.”
Annabelle felt her chest constrict. She looked right and left until she located her boys, who had abandoned the chicken and strolled toward them. She touched Zhijian’s arm, tears welling. “You risked too much to bring us this information. You must be careful about your own safety.”
“I just wanted you to be aware. These men have met in secret for many years. They thought the Empress would sanction their army because she never outright demanded that they cease their activities. These men are unhappy with our dynasty and the time that has slipped by with no action. They want to take matters into their own hands. I thought it was only dissatisfaction—until today.” He looked around as if the walls had ears.
“Thank you, son,” Joseph said. “You go ahead. It’s getting dark.”
Zhijian slipped away into the shadows, and was soon out of sight.
Joseph took a deep breath and let it out. “I need to send a message to the American legation. Perhaps they can tell us what to do,” he said. He reached for Annabelle’s hand. “Annie, I don’t know if they will follow through or not, but I don’t think you should travel to the clinic for a while.”
Annabelle stared at him. “I must!”
“It is too treacherous.”
“So, we let their empty words rob us of our everyday lives?”
“We respect the peril behind those words – not just for you, but Thomas.”
Annabelle put her head down. The thought of not going to the clinic was as painful as an open wound. “I will send a message to Dr. Wong,” she said. “When things quiet down, I will resume my duties.”
Joseph’s words fell like gentle stones. “I am aware of how hard this is for you, but if anything happened to you. . .”
“I know. I would not forgive myself if Thomas were harmed. It’s just that. . .”
Joseph wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I understand,” he whispered.
The sun slipped into darkness, as did Annabelle’s hopes.
Chapter Twenty-six
Sunsoo brushed away every speck of dirt and dust within reach. It was the third week of the twelfth moon and sweeping the grounds was necessary to celebrate the upcoming New Year. Every corner of the house was cleaned in preparation. Short poems were written in black ink on large scrolls of red paper and placed on the walls—expressions of good wishes for the family in the coming year. Symbolic flowers and fruits decorated the entire house.
Sunsoo relished the beauty that surrounded her. The New Year’s festivities were marked with her favorite foods and presents. She moved into the house, speaking to the kitchen god as she pushed a tiny insect out the door with her broom.
“You must report to heaven the behavior of my family,” she said.
I think you will have much to say on the improved manners of my husband.
Zhenming had ceased to touch her in abuse that eventful day four years earlier. He had also ceased to touch her in other ways. Dr. Wong had worked ceaselessly to help heal her womb, but she had no way of knowing if his medical expertise had worked since her husband no longer reached for her in the night. Whether he reached for another woman, she did not know. Since he continued his secret activities with the Society, perhaps power was seduction enough.
Zhenming and Junhui clattered through the door. She smiled at her young son’s fine and handsome features. He and his father had visited Father Wu that morning. The older man could not come to them as easily as he once did. His body was bent like a stooped crane and his joints were on fire with heat. Herbs and treatment eased his pain some, but Sunsoo privately believed he rotted from the inside out. He blazed with anger and no person could carry that for so long without consequence.
“How does your father fare?”
“He is as well as he can be,” Zhenming said. “Mother and the servants are working to prepare their home for the New Year. They have been at market all week.”
“Father Wu said he had something special for me,” Junhui said.
“For your birthday or for the New Year celebration?”
Junhui shrugged his shoulders, a shy smile on his face. At nearly 10 years old, he was still a solemn child, but intelligence graced his expressions. He was small for his age, but that caused Sunsoo no worry. Her father was slight in stature, but a large man on the inside. She was grateful that her son now knew both of his grandfathers. She was even more thankful he followed her father’s footsteps in both academics and heart. She and Junhei visited her parents a few times a year. It never seemed enough, but each visit was a gift from the gods.
“I have something for you,” Sunsoo said to her son. She held out the small gift she found at the market.
“Do you have something for me?” Zhenming asked
Sunsoo blushed.
“If you wish. . .”
Zhenming laughed, the sound like crows harping in the trees.
Sunsoo put her head down and continued to sweep.
Sunsoo chafed under the scrutiny of her sister-in-law’s gaze. Her husband was not there to greet them. The opium pipe had degenerated him to depravity. His only pursuit was the foggy world of addiction where skeletons cavorted. His illness was known throughout the village, but not spoken of in the walls of Zhenming’s childhood home.
The New Year was strictly for family celebration. Stores closed shop and all food and gifts were bought before the eventful day. It was also a time for the nation to celebrate birthdays. No matter what month of the moon you were born, you turned a year older on the 7th day after the New Year.
The invitation to stay at the family home during the celebration had caught them all by surprise.
A servant guided Sunsoo to a sleeping chamber. Sunsoo’s sister-in-law followed behind. As the servant pushed open the door, Sunsoo stepped back. “There is a mistake,” she said. “This is already taken.”
“Father Wu wishes that you and Zhenming sleep here,” her sister-in-law said. “He plans to ask you to come home today. He wants to give his eldest son the place of honor in his home again. Father Wu understands that much rests on the shoulders of the one who will take his place.” Her face was pained. “My husband is not able . . .”
Sunsoo blanched. This was news that Zhenming would welcome. Perhaps even Junhui would receive this news with welcome. He would have cousins to play with every day. Yet to Sunsoo, the walls of the ornate room seemed just as much a prison as it once did.
