Generous Orchid - Chapters 46 and 47
Gritty is sometimes our story
I love the “book club” aspect of this new adventure. One reader sent a private message. “I thought Christian fiction was fluffy. This is gritty.”
And that reader is right. When the setting is a revolution, it can’t be sanitized, nor should it be. When a woman is fighting to be heard and seen, that is not easy territory. When someone dies unjustly, it hurts our hearts.
Yet the “single scarlet thread” is the faithfulness of God in each of these. When life is hard, God is present. When we don’t know what to do, he is a refuge and he offers wisdom and guidance.
We have one more week (two more chapters) and this historical novel will be finished. I have to be honest, I cried as I edited these chapters. I’ve been waiting for decades to share this part of my writing journey, and it’s been a gift. I can’t wait to begin the next book in the series. I’ll tell you more about that the first Tuesday of January.
So, let’s get into this story. We are nearing the end. It’s a hard, beautiful read and I’m so grateful for you.
Trigger warning: The following chapters reference violence.
If you’ve missed previous chapters, here’s a few for you to check out:
Generous Orchid, Chapter 46
“Hide,” the driver hissed.
Sunsoo sank into the bulk of the cargo, wondering if she had made a tragic mistake. Though she couldn’t serve at the mission, she imagined the thin collarbones of the children in her dreams. She was asked to stay away, but she promised herself it would be the last time. Shumei’s husband helped her load the old wagon with rice, millet, cabbage, beans, eggs, oats and brown bread. She was tempted to tie a goat in the back, but it would be too obvious.
At the last minute, Shumei called a young man out of her home. He had mud on the hem of his clothing. His hands were rough from the fields. “Please let him drive you,” she whispered. “You can hide in the back under the tarp.”
She never caught his name, and perhaps that was on purpose. The delivery was a success. Under the cover of darkness, the cargo was deposited. Dr. Wong stumbled out of the mission, angst etched in the furrows in his brow when he saw Sunsoo. After a quick embrace with Ting and the doctor, she climbed back in the wagon, pulling empty burlap bags over her.
As the wagon trotted from side to side down the uneven road, Sunsoo felt a piece of her had been left behind. Halfway home she heard shouts in the distance. Then hooves beating toward them. Shumei’s nephew urgently commanded her to burrow as deeply as possible, and the rough wood scraped her arms and knees as she curled into a ball.
“What is your destination?” a man barked. “Why are you out so late?”
The wagon pulled to a halt. “I am on my way home,” the young driver said.
“What is your cargo?”
“I am farmer. I transported my cargo after a full day of work.” He paused, agony creeping into his voice. “It was taken from me by a band of men down the road.”
“Who were they?” another demanded.
“They were hungry men who desired rice and vegetables for their family, and now I have nothing with which to feed my own family,” he replied. His voice was low and sad. “Will you take my wagon and leave me nothing? Will I be robbed twice in one night, or have I encountered honorable men?”
The first man snorted. “Your wagon is not even suitable for kindling. Go on, get out of the way or you will find yourself not only without a horse and wagon, but without your life.”
The wagon lurched forward. Sunsoo sighed in relief, pulling herself even tighter against the rough splinters that pressed through her robe.
“Stay hidden,” the driver whispered.
The next hour was tortuous. Sunsoo’s joints screamed in agony as her hips and elbows jostled with every step. She remained as still as an embroidered butterfly, only daring to breathe.
“Climb out, sister. Quickly.”
Sunsoo sat up on the hard planks, blinking, trying to find her bearings. She stretched out one leg, then the other. The young man reached in to take her by the hand and pull her from the cart. She fell into his arms and quickly jerked away, nearly toppling to the ground.
His face was impassive. “Run. You are only a short way from home. Run, Wang Sun Soo, run!”
She forced her tightened muscles to abide her wishes and dashed toward her home, thankful for the inky blanket of darkness.
“Where have you been?”
The voice startled her. “Sister? Is that you?”Sunsoo whirled around.
Her sister-in-law’s heart-shaped face peered around the curtain. Tears streaked her face. “Your absence was noted! Zhenming went in search of you.”
“Where is Junhui?” Sunsoo asked.
“He is asleep. He is not aware of any of this.”
Sunsoo sighed in relief. “I will wait for Zhenming to return.”
“No. Go to my chambers. My husband has not been there in several weeks. He sleeps with his lazy concubine. She does not care that his opium pipe makes him less than a man. They curl together and she whispers sweet lies into his ear.” She threw a gown to her. “I’ve been waiting for you. Change into this and pretend to be asleep. I will say that you had a bad dream and came to me to talk, and fell asleep.”
“I don’t want to cause you harm.”
“Zhenming does not know that I know he is searching for you. He did not come to my chambers. I only heard his roar.”
Sunsoo grabbed the gown her sister had confiscated from her room. She fled across the courtyard, dipping from shadow to shadow. She thrust herself into the chamber, pulled off her robes and put on the silky gown. She tunneled under the covers, closed her eyes — just as Zhenming crashed into the room.
“Where have you been?” he shouted.
Sunsoo sat up on one elbow. She yawned and put one arm in the air. “Why are you shouting? You’ll wake the whole household. I had a dream,” she said sleepily. “It was hideous.”
“So hideous that you stumble out of your own bed into another?”
She nodded numbly.
“And what did you dream?”
She closed her eyes in a grimace. “I dreamed of a war, of mothers torn from children, of hunger, and of neighbor turning against neighbor.” She trembled, the lie too close to the truth.
Zhenming sat on the edge of the bed, his anger leaving like a lantern floating into the sky. “I have been walking the streets searching for you. I was told you were at the mission in the foothills.”
Sunsoo yawned. “Why would someone tell you that? I have been sleeping. I am truly sorry, but you were not here and so I did not think it would matter which bed I slept in. I sought the comfort of my sister.” She pointed to the rumpled spot beside her in the rich covers. She put her fingers to her lips and shook her head. “It appears I have pushed her out of her own bed. I should go back to my chamber.”
Zhenming wiped a hand across his forehead. Suspicion curled in the shape of his mouth. “If you are found in that place, you will suffer a great deal.” He waited for her reply.
Sunsoo slipped back under the covers, a nod in response. She yawned widely, rubbing her eyes, pretending fatigue even as her heart pounded in her chest. “Perhaps I’ll stay here after all. The bed is warm and I am tired.”
“Do what you will,” he said.
Seconds after he left, her sister-in-law slipped into the room. She curled up in bed beside Sunsoo. They held each other’s hands until the sound of her husband’s footsteps faded away.
“I won’t be back for several days,” Zhenming informed her the next morning. He wore a clean uniform, his dagger iron sharp at his side. Sunsoo and Junhui sat quietly at the table. Her son raised his eyes, resentment in the pools. His father was too engrossed to notice.
Hours later Sunsoo lingered by the fountain. The house felt like a tomb. Zhenming’s brother remained deep in a haze of sleep. His wife and children played a game in the garden. Junhui was locked in the library, reading biographies and science and philosophy. When she had passed him on her way out, she smiled at the nest of books around him, a sight not unfamiliar. She had witnessed her own father in that same light many times.
It had been several days since she had read the words of John in the book the teacher had given her. With everyone hidden away, and Zhenming gone, a few of the pages lay open on her lap, a risk she had never taken. She promised herself she’d read only for a few moments and then return it to its hiding place.
A servant passed. “Do you wish anything?” the young girl asked.
Sunsoo covered the pages with her robe. “I do not, thank you.”
The girl bowed and then left the room.
She savored the words for a moment longer and then tucked them under her arm. She stole down the hallway to her room. Inside, she quickly opened the lock and lifted the false bottom to hide the pages inside with the rest.
“What is that?”
Sunsoo’s head jerked back.
Zhenming grabbed her by the hair. “Are you hiding something from me?”
“I thought you were gone.”
Zhenming pushed her aside and wrenched out the box containing the pages. The scarlet ribbon fluttered as he waved it in the air. He strode toward the window and held the pages to the light and roared in disbelief. He turned slowly. “Is this what I think it is?”
She stood mutely, edging backward toward the door.
“Have you lied to me?” He pushed her out the door, then propelled her forward. She held on to the book, crying out with each punishing move. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her in front of the massive fireplace. “Throw it in!” he demanded.
She wept in agony, lying on the hearth with the book tight against her chest. “No!”
The young servant girl stood nearby, tears streaking down her face.
“You were not sleeping in that chamber as you said. Tell me the truth! Tell me now! I was suspicious of your whereabouts, so I lingered to see if I might catch you in a lie, and I did!”
“You found me sleeping, Zhenming.”
“You have become too bold. The servants respect my authority and when I asked if you were missing last night, I was provided the information.”
Sunsoo stared at the girl. For the first time she noticed the bruises on the girl’s arm and neck. She shook her head, shouting. “Why would you hurt an innocent girl? Have you become an animal?”
“Burn it!”
“No!”
Sunsoo leaped to her feet and ran through the room and out the door. She stumbled through the courtyard, through the gates, and into the street. She held the Gospel of John close to her heart, which somehow gave her the strength.
She turned to face her enemy.
Chapter 47
Joseph was ragged, his limbs as heavy as tree trunks, but when he heard shouting, he rushed toward it. He hid between homes, behind trees and structures as he approached carefully. That’s when he saw Sunsoo standing in the street. Her robe was torn, her long black hair half-in and half-out of an exquisite comb. Her shins were bleeding, her face scratched.
“Dear Father,” Joseph whispered.
“This is what happens to the wife of the Tipao when she conspires with the foreign devils,” one called. “It is only just.”
Sunsoo clutched a bundle close to her. A blood red ribbon clashed against her white throat. Joseph moaned, his breath catching in his throat.
What have I done?
