CHAPTER 12

Jack craned his neck to listen to the sounds in the distance from the path that retreated behind them. There was birdsong from the canopy above and the wind rustling through the branches, but Jack had thought, for just a moment, that there had been another sound there. He strained to separate it from a wild symphony of background noise and heard nothing.

            “Why do you keep doing that?” Harold said, sounding annoyed.

            “Just want to be sure we’re not being trailed,” Jack said.

            “Unless they’ve got hidden surveillance cameras in these trees, I can’t see any way they’d know where we headed,” Harold grumbled.

            “Maybe.” Jack swung his pack around to one shoulder, reaching in and extracting a can of black beans. He peeled the lid back and gobbled a few mouthfuls down before passing the can to Harold.

            “That’s actually one other strange thing I noticed about that place,” Jack said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. “Not much hi-tech stuff. No computers, cellphones, or TVs. And yet they had other things I’d never seen before in my life. Did you notice all the solar panels on the roof? I think they make their own power.”

            “Maybe this is some kind of eco-friendly Christian commune,” said Harold.

            “Yeah, maybe,” Jack said. “But how does that explain the animals?”

            “What about them?”

            “You haven’t noticed? They’re tame. Like pets. I was at the lake a few days ago, just sitting on the pier, and this family of foxes just came right up to me. Like puppies.”

            “Was it the day you were drunk by any chance? Maybe that’s how to explain it.”

            “Atta boy, Harold. You’re the authority on everything until you’re met with something you can’t explain, so you dismiss it with some snide comment so that you can be on top once again.”

            “Have a degree in psychology, do we?” Harold mocked.

            “I don’t need one to see the obvious. What was it for you, bad childhood? Neglectful parents?”

            Harold snorted. “My parents weren’t the problem.”

            “Oh?”

            “I had a good life growing up. Mostly fond memories, in fact.”

            “Good for you.”

            “Look, it was you that asked–“

            “Never mind, go on, we might as well talk about something.”

            “Yes, well. I was saying my family was a good one. Not a lot of money, but enough to call ourselves middle class and own a car. When I was little we lived in a remote part of Ireland.

            “Let me guess, only child?”

            “No, in fact. I had a brother.”

            “Brother, huh? Younger or older?”

            “Younger, but only by a minute or so. We were twins.”

            “Twins?”

            “Yes. Murphy was his name. He was the best brother a boy could hope for.”

            “Was? What happened? He die?”

            They paused for a moment as Harold removed a canteen from his backpack. He swigged the water vigorously without looking back at Jack. Jack glanced at the narrow trail behind them, once again pricked by the sensation that they were being watched from somewhere in the thicket.

            “We were just nine when it happened,” Harold said.

            “It?” Jack asked, curiosity piqued.

            “We were driving to the coast one evening, the four of us, mom, dad, Murphy and I. An uncle had a cottage there and he offered it to us for the summer while he and our aunt traveled through Europe. We were so excited to go. The water was so cold, basically just melted ice, but it made no difference. We couldn’t wait to get in the water. Especially Murphy. He was the better swimmer. Better at most sports, in fact. But we never made it to the cottage. Barely got out of our town, in fact.

            “I don’t remember much of the actual accident, I assume I must’ve hit my head on something in the car. But the doctor told me it was a truck that hit us, from the left side, where mom and Murphy were sitting. They had their safety belts on but it didn’t really matter. The truck was driven by three lads that had just left the pub. To this day I have no idea what they looked like, what their names were. I know they went to prison for some time. I’m sure they’re dead now too.”

            “What did you and your dad do after that?” Jack asked.

            “My dad didn’t do much of anything, seeing as he spent the next decade in a coma. When he finally did wake up, the man was so disconnected from the real world that he just shut himself in. One coma to the next, I guess. He didn’t live long after that. No reason to go on, I suppose.”

            “You weren’t close?”

            “We’d been close as a family, but you can’t expect to go through something like that and come out normal. After the accident I was cared for by one set of aunts and uncles and then another. I became interested in science and that took up the majority of my time. By the time father was out of the hospital I’d grown up and was studying in Cambridge. I visited him once or twice, but it wasn’t anything worth remembering.”

            Harold stopped for a moment to stretch and look up at the trees. When they were walking again he asked, “What about you? You come from a lovely little American family? Your dad teach you to do wood whittling and birdcalls and fight the bullies in school?”

            “No, not really,” Jack mumbled, in that moment suddenly feeling very small and alone walking through the woods, ancient trees and forest sounds looming all around. His boots felt too big, a little boy shuffling along in his grandfather’s loafers. Everything was awkward and difficult and bad as Jack’s mind went back.

            “My dad was a drunk,” Jack said finally.

            “Oh good, do tell. I’d hate to be the only one between the two of us with past baggage,” Harold retorted.

            “Not much to tell. He liked going out with his buddies. They drank and played poker. I guess he wasn’t any good at it, because he was always losing money at the table. That’d put him in a sour mood, which he’d fuel with more booze in front of the TV. Then he’d start picking fights. Maybe there were some dishes in the sink, or nothing to eat in the house, or the boys’ homework wasn’t done. Out came the belt. You never knew what would trigger it, but after awhile you got a sense of when it was gonna be bad and when it was gonna be worse. You sort of get used to it, after awhile. Your mind goes blank and you don’t feel the pain anymore.”

            “The police were never informed?”

            “Nah. James was too smart for that. He was careful where he hit us. The teachers never spotted the bruises.”

            Harold let out a retching sound. “The man was a monster. No child should ever have to go through something like that.” Jack was taken aback by the indignation in Harold’s voice.

            “Yeah, well, when you’re a child you don’t have much control over things.”

            “Yes, that’s certainly true,” Harold said, glimpsing something just beyond the bend ahead that made him freeze in his tracks. Jack saw it too, and the two fell silent.

            Less than one hundred yards ahead, there had been a flash of orange in the thicket. The men stood still as the colors continued to move through the trees, and it wasn’t long before they realized what they were looking at: neon-colored safety vests worn by people trekking through the woods. And the people were approaching...

***

            Naomi and Adrina sat quietly in the shade, watching the water as it lapped against the shore of the lake. They’d had a light breakfast in the cabin and had made their way slowly around the lake, taking in the sights and sounds of the untouched natural landscape. A small brook gurgled its way over a rocky bed to meet the lake. An eagle screeched somewhere high above in the clouds.

            “It’s so peaceful here,” Adrina said.

            “Yes. Probably a bit different than what you were used to in Detroit, I’d imagine.”

            “We had lakes there too, big ones, much bigger than this, but they weren’t as clean. Can people swim here?”

            “Of course. Although the water’s a little cold for it now.”

            “It’s nice to just sit here, soak it all in,” Adrina said, letting out a deep sigh.

            “Do you prefer this area to the center?” Naomi asked.

            “Yeah, I guess so. How long have you lived here?”

            “Oh, it’s been awhile. Longer than it feels. Our son, Daniel, spent most of his life here.”

            “Good place to raise a kid. Should’a seen my neighborhood,” Adrina said wryly.

            “That bad, huh?”

            “Lotta the kids were in gangs. They sold drugs, carried guns. Sometimes they’d use them. You’d hear a gunshot in the middle of the night, and about twenty minutes later the sirens came to haul off the body. Not a good place for a family.”

            “Well, you’ll never have to worry about hearing those sounds again.”

            “Maybe,” Adrina shrugged. Naomi frowned and smiled at the same time.

            “I envy you guys, that’s for sure. Big house, nice kids, beautiful property. Wish I could’ve had this growing up. I’m sure things would’a turned out a lot different. I guess it wasn’t in the cards.”

            “No one’s forcing you to go anywhere, Adrina. This can be your home.”

            “Thanks, but you’re a better woman than me.”

            Naomi shook her head. She didn’t understand where their conversation was going.

            “That’s right. You’re smarter. Stronger. You’re not the kind of woman that makes mistakes. I can tell just looking at you. You’re the kind of woman I’ll never be.”

            “You don’t think of yourself as strong?”

            “I don’t mean physically, you know? I’m talking about on the inside. I’ve done some really stupid stuff. Bad stuff. I make bad decisions. And I can’t help it. We’re just different.”

            “What kind of mistakes?” Naomi asked, trying to tread lightly.

            “You know, they say that a girl will always marry a guy like her father. Have you heard that? Well, I never knew my father. He left our family when I was just a little girl, not even in kindergarten yet, so I don’t remember him. And my mom didn’t talk about him much until I was older, when it was already too late. She always defended him, too, like he had a good reason for leaving.”

            “So is it true what they say? Do girls marry guys like their fathers?”

            “I dunno, I never married Corey. He was just there. It just happened. We were together. And then there was the baby. And Corey, he never hit me, you know? So it wasn’t that bad. He’d put holes in the wall, sure. The walls were thin anyways. But he didn’t hit me, you understand? Corey would never do a thing like that.”

            “Okay.”

            “But Corey did get me to do things… Things I shouldn’t have. Especially with the baby.”

            Naomi could sense the weight of Adrina’s words. She waited patiently for her to continue.

            “We were kids, you know. Just stupid kids. Kids don't think about consequences. They just live for the moment. They wanna have fun. All the other girls were drinking and partying. Some were doing pills. Corey didn’t want us to miss out just because I was pregnant. We thought if I was just careful with it…”

            Naomi struggled to control her emotions. She wanted to run and scream. She thought back to her life in the Old World, when she and Charlie had done everything possible to get pregnant. The doctor’s visits and the X-rays and the endless trays of pills. All of that effort to bring a precious soul into a difficult world and give it a good life. Meanwhile, others like Adrina had stumbled on the gift of a child by accident and had thrown it all away. Like garbage.

            Naomi chewed her lips, reigning back the words ready to leap from her tongue. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Adrina. But for all of Naomi’s anger, it didn’t blind her. She could sense the girl’s guilt. With great effort, she slid closer and put her arm around Adrina’s shoulder.

            “Please,” Adrina said quietly but firmly. “Don’t comfort me. I’m not your friend. I don’t deserve it. This is my punishment, and I’m ready to face it. Alone.”

***

            Charlie and Daniel hadn’t wasted a moment departing in what they hoped was the direction that Jack and Harold had taken, but their trips back and forth from the cabin to the center had taken time. Charlie hoped they were no less than three hours behind them but had no way of knowing. They would have to walk swiftly, resting only occasionally, if they wanted to gain ground. He could only hope they were gaining the right ground. There was nothing to go on besides Liping’s word, and Charlie wasn’t convinced that was much at all.

            Daniel spoke from several paces behind Charlie, shaking him from his thoughts. “You said back at the cabin that Jack was a soldier, right?”

            “Yeah,” Charlie responded.

            “So he had special training for stuff like this?”

            “I’m assuming so. It wasn’t in the dossier but it’s what I remember of the Old World. Soldiers knew how to hunt and survive and stay hidden in all kinds of environments.”

            “What about Harold? Did scientists know that kind of thing?”

            “No, I don’t think so.”

            “So we really just need to look for him, then. He should be easier to find, and maybe that will help us find Jack.”

            “Yes, I suppose so.”

            “Can you tell me more about the Old World, dad?” Daniel said, and for a moment Charlie heard not the voice of a grown man decades into adulthood but that of a small child, the innocent boy that Naomi and himself had explored these very woods with so many ages ago.

            “What do you want to know?” Charlie asked.

            “I’m just trying to understand these men. What were wars like?”

            Charlie’s mind reached back, pulling up old images that life in paradise had gradually relegated to the background of his thoughts. The memories were there, but out of sight, as if veiled behind a thick black cloak. He reached out and drew it back and he smelled smoke.

            “For awhile, there wasn’t much warfare in the country where your mom and I lived. America waged most of its wars in other territories, fighting with other armies over earth’s dwindling resources, or for territorial control, or to prevent other nations from growing. Of course, the real reasons for those wars were always masked. They told us we were fighting for freedom, fighting for justice, even fighting for God’s will.”

            “And people believed it?”

            “I would say most did, yes. Many didn’t care. You can’t see lies if you don’t have the truth. In any case, war eventually did come to America, during the Great Tribulation, and it was horrendous. It wasn’t a war fought by nations protecting borders, it was a war without borders, and it was fought by practically everyone. The entire globe was in chaos. People turned into wild, vicious animals. We saw things that I thought I might never forget.”

            “Did soldiers fight in that war too?”

            “They did at first. The ones that were particularly loyal to the government, anyway. They tried to keep the peace as well as they could, but eventually, when their families’ welfare was on the line, many of them abandoned their posts to protect their own.”

            “What about Jack? Do you think he was loyal to his government?”

            “I don’t know, Daniel. We can ask him when we get a chance. Remember, though, that Jack died in a separate war, just before the outbreak of the Great Tribulation. He knows nothing of the Tribulation. Neither of them do.”

            “I wish we would’ve had the chance to talk about it. I really feel he would’ve changed his mind.”

            “I wish that too, and I wish the same for Harold. But Jehovah doesn’t force any to accept the truth, or even to learn about him, and we can’t either. Each individual must make his own decision.”

            “Do you think Jack and Harold have already made their decision?”

            “I… I don’t know. It’s up to Jesus to read their hearts and determine the outcome. But let’s not give up on them just yet. Maybe they’ll have a change of heart yet.”

            “I sure hope so. I really thought Jack was coming around. I could feel it.”

            “Maybe he was. Maybe he still will.”

***

            “We need to find a place to hide,” Harold hissed at Jack, glancing around the area near their spot on the path. The forest had thinned out and none of the trees were thick enough to conceal them. Ferns and shrubs were scarce.

            “Why should we hide? Maybe they can give us answers,” Jack suggested.

            “Too much risk! You forget that we still have no idea where we are or what any of these people want!”

            “You assume that these people are all in on some conspiracy, Harold. We’ve been walking for almost four hours now, and–“

            “Hi there,” said a voice from behind them. Jack and Harold turned to find a separate group of men and women emerging from a different spot to their rear. The man who spoke extended a hand cordially at Jack.

            “Hi,” Jack said softly.

            “That’s quite a load you’ve got there,” the man said, pointing to the backpacks. “You two been out here for a while?”

            “No,” Harold said, stepping forward. “Just left this morning.”

            “This morning, huh? You come from the Lewis’s place?”

            Harold squinted, assessing the risk. He gambled: “Yes, we did. We’re good friends of theirs. We go way back.”

            “Yeah, you and half of Clive. Charlie and Naomi have been here for decades. I reckon they’ve welcomed more back than any other couple I know. Most people just get one guest per family, but those guys sometimes get assigned a few at a time! Outstanding people. Really special.”

            “They sure are,” Harold said with a charming grin.

            “What are you folks doing?” Jack asked. Harold shot him a warning glare. Don’t ask questions! Keep the conversation minimal! his look said.

            “We’re with the wildlife survey team. We’re monitoring the spread of a few different species through these mountains, most notably cougars, jaguars, and grey wolves. According to the archives, this area was crawling with them about four hundred years ago, but with colonization came deforestation and hunting, and a lot of the big carnivores got turned into trophies mounted on walls. Sad times. By the way, you guys from the Old World or New?”

            Jack’s face displayed a blank stare. “Wha–“

            “Old World,” Harold said quickly.

            “Oh, sorry. You probably knew the history then. Anyhow, we’ve had a nice day so far. The bears are doing especially well in this area. How about you two? On assignment or just having a little R and R?”

            “Just hiking. Wanted to enjoy some of this clean fall air,” Harold said, still smiling.

            “It’s wonderful, ain’t it? I used to live in New York City before the Big Day, and I thought fall there was beautiful! Ha! I had no idea, huh? We sure were livin’ in a daze back then. Anyhow, I won’t keep you. Seems like you’ve got a long trail ahead of you still. Where you headed, anyways?”

            “We haven’t made our minds up yet,” Harold said. “But say, those archives you just mentioned, are they in Bighton?”

            “I’m not sure if the Bighton Library is open yet, last I heard they were still renovating it. But the Clive Library has a full history archive. You’ve never been?”

            “Not from around here,” Harold said with a tilt of his head.

            “Oh, I see. Well Clive isn’t as big a town as most, but it’s coming along. I’d say you can get there before nightfall if you make the right turns. I’m guessing you have a map, right?”

            “We do, thanks. We know the way,” Harold said curtly.

            “Well that’s good then. See you folks later,” the man said as he left the path and hustled up the embankment on the other side to catch up with his team.

            “So what do we do now?” Jack asked once they’d walked on a bit and were well out of earshot.

            “I’m still thinking it through,” Harold mumbled.

            “I wouldn’t mind checking out this Clive place, if that’s what you’re considering.”

            “It’s risky.”

            “I’m not sure what you’re worried about, Harold. These people just don’t seem that dangerous to me.”

            “That’s exactly what has me so worried,” said Harold as they came to the first fork in the road and turned left, where a signpost jutting from the caked dirt, painted in flowing red letters, read CLIVE.

***

            The sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains as Naomi finally made it back to the center at the peak. She stepped from the lift and made her way around the power shed with a large fabric sack slung over her shoulder.

            The laundry machine, located on the south side of the center near the water reservoir, was a contraption that had gained popularity a few decades into the New World. It was a simple machine–the combination of a bicycle and a circular, wooden washing basin. Dirty clothes and detergent were thrown into the basin, and a hinged lid was clamped shut, keeping anything from spilling out. From the inside of the lid protruded a series of wooden forks that rotated on gears in opposite directions. The gears were activated by a beam attached to the top of the basin’s lid, much like the hand of a clock. The other end of the beam was mounted to the back of the bicycle. As the bicycle was ridden in circles around the basin, the arm caused the gears to wind, which spun the forks and did a most thorough job of washing the clothes. A series of small horizontal glass windows on the basin’s sides made the entire process visible from the outside.

            Naomi mounted the bicycle and began, slowly at first, to make her rounds about the basin. She didn’t mind the distraction. It had been a stressful day with little to show for. Adrina was still withheld. Two guests were gone completely. And as for Liping… Who knew what the deal was with her. Naomi pushed hard at the pedals, trying to build momentum.

            She’d been riding for a few minutes when she realized she was being watched. From the front porch of the center, Liping studied her. She was frowning and her arms were crossed.

            Naomi let the bike slow. “It’s a washing machine,” she called out. Liping’s eyebrows raised. She approached carefully and bent down, squinting to get a look inside the basin through one of the windows.

            “Where did you buy this? I’ve never seen such a thing.”

            “It was a gift from some friends. They build them in a workshop not far from here. Had the pieces shipped in separately and we put it together.”

            “Why not use a regular washing machine?” Liping asked skeptically.

“You can fit a lot more into one of these, and they’re easier to maintain. Less moving parts. Plus, they don’t require electricity.”

            “Seems like a lot of work.”

            “It’s still better than washing by hand,” Naomi said as she rode by.

            “I suppose it’s good exercise,” Liping finally conceded.

            “Yep.”

            Naomi rode for a few more minutes, studying Liping discreetly at each turn. Finally she stopped, drained the soapy water through a grate in the ground, and began adding a second batch of water for rinsing. “Would you like to try?” she asked Liping. The woman put her hands up to refuse, but Naomi was already behind her, nudging her towards the bike.

            Relenting, she hopped on and said, “I haven’t ridden one in many years. Don’t laugh if I fall, ok?”

            “Don’t worry. The beam helps keep it upright, you won’t fall. Just focus on staying on the circular path.”

            Liping nodded expectantly. She rode shakily at first but soon had the bike moving as steadily as Naomi had. Her face was determined and focused, and it made Naomi giggle.

            “What are you laughing at? Am I doing something wrong?” Liping asked. The smile was gone and she appeared to be suddenly self-conscious.

            “No, not that. It’s your expression. It reminds me a lot of Sophie.”

            “Oh?”

            “You know, when we first brought her home from China she didn’t know any English. Charlie and I would sit down with her every evening for about an hour, teaching her the basics. Things like colors, fruit, shapes, ABCs. It wasn’t easy but she was always such a diligent little student. And you could tell she really wanted it. You could see it in her face. The same face you just made.”

            Liping slowed the pumping of her legs and let the bike coast to a halt. “You all tell me she’s my daughter, but I hope you can understand that it’s impossible for me to believe.”

            Naomi shrugged. “I can understand that, Liping. I’m sure there are lot of things about this place that are hard to accept. Apparently it was difficult for Jack and Harold, too, and that’s why they ran into the forest.”

            Liping glanced into the woods, as if she could hear the noises the men’s footsteps made as they cut through the grass and dried leaves of autumn.

            “So if you’re not ready to accept that you two are related, that’s fine. It’s not really the most important thing right now,” Naomi added.

            “Not the most important thing? How could that possibly be? What’s more important than family? Especially to me. I have no one here. If there’s even the slimmest chance that she’s my daughter, I want to know.”

            “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Unfortunately, we no longer have the documents from the adoption agency. All that paperwork–along with the photos we took together in Zhengzhou–are long gone. We never met anyone else from your family. As far as we were told, there was no one left to talk to. It was just little Feifei.”

“Feifei,” Liping said in a hushed voice. “How do you know that name…?”

Naomi shrugged, “No one was certain about her name, but one of the nurses in the hospital you were taken to seemed to remember you saying it before you lost consciousness. That was the name given to the adoption agency.”

            Liping said nothing as she thought back to those frantic moments in the hospital. Whether or not she’d mentioned the name of the girl to anyone in the ward, she couldn’t remember, but Feifei was indeed the name she’d had in mind. Either way, there was no explanation for how this woman, this foreigner, would have access to that information.

            Naomi stared into the woman’s eyes for a long moment before speaking. “I suppose that’s the only proof you’ve got that we’re telling the truth.”

            “Why did you change her name to Sophie?”

            “We didn’t. She did. You really should sit down and talk with her, Liping,” Naomi said with gentle firmness. She opened the valve on the basin and let the rinse water drain into the grate.

            Liping avoided answering by gazing back at the building. Her arms were crossed tightly against her chest again and the frown had returned.