River of Dust A Novel

Twenty-three

M istress Grace came slowly with Mai Lin to guide her. Ahcho held open the door to the house that had not been a home for months. His heart lifted at the thought of the baby arriving at its proper residence, but when he did not see the small bundle, he hoped that everything was all right. He had seven children of his own, and they each had seven children. He was a happy man because of it, even in these lean times when they had been scattered to the winds. It was known in his family that a baby placed in his arms would soon be charmed to sleep. He hoped he would have the opportunity to show this to the Reverend and his wife with their daughter.

Mistress Grace paused at the threshold and said, "Thank you, Ahcho, for all you have done to maintain things while I was away. You are most good to us."

Ahcho bowed solemnly and hoped that his face didn't betray his concern, for he couldn't help noticing that she didn't look at all well. Her sallow complexion matched her dingy white gown. All of her seemed covered by a yellowish tint: her fair skin, her lace dress, the white stockings, and her light brown hair all dusted by a thin layer of loess, the loamy deposit that he spent far too many hours each day sweeping ineffectually from the floorboards and rugs.

At night, he would shut and lock the front door, and in the morning, he'd still find small piles of the dusty sand pushed up against the walls and crammed into every crevice of this, the finest home in the Christian compound. Try as he might, Ahcho was unable to keep it clean. He had an impulse to use the broom to whisk the loess off his mistress now, or to at least employ a washcloth and lye soap, but of course he would never do such a disrespectful thing. It fell to Mai Lin, if she did her job properly, to help free their mistress of the dirty cloud that surrounded her.

"Mistress is hungry?" he asked. "I will prepare your dinner."

"No, thank you, Ahcho. Very kind of you, though."

She walked with gentle steps into the parlor, where he was pleased to have dusted only an hour before.

"I'll eat something," Mai Lin said.

Ahcho ignored her and stood instead behind his mistress as she looked at the lone photograph on the mantel. Inside a dark wooden frame, intricately carved with vines and blossoms, was a daguerreotype of the Watson family. With eyes pinned on the photographer, the Reverend stood in a light linen suit, his collar buttoned high, his goldrimmed glasses glinting in the sun, and a clear expression on his face. Beside the young Reverend stood Mistress Grace. She wore a simple smock with black boots hidden under the shadow of the hem and held a rumpled linen hat in one hand. She, too, stared directly into the camera and did not smile. They didn't hold hands but stood shoulder to shoulder, a matched set, although he was so much taller. Ahcho was proud of the handsome and serious young couple at the start of their important work here in Fenchow-fu, where they would do so much good for others.

Standing in front of them was their small boy, Wesley. He wore knickers and a sailor top. In his arms he held a heavy-looking glass jar filled with American pennies, his greatest treasure. Ahcho remembered picking up the annoying coins from the floor and scolding the little boy to fetch them himself from then on. Ahcho regretted ever speaking harshly to the lad, who in the photo squinted with ferocious curiosity out at the world.

Ahcho wondered if Wesley's mother was noticing now that neither parent touched the child. No hand rested protectively on his shoulder, no fingers reached for his small hand. He was not tucked into his mother's side. Instead, little Wesley seemed all alone as he glared into the years ahead, poised to conquer, full of great seriousness and strength for someone so small. He had the countenance of a future leader, someone like his father who would bring people together to accomplish great things. Could the boy have been a prince all along? Ahcho wondered now.

Grace turned abruptly from the fireplace and cleared her throat, attempting to hide what Ahcho suspected were tears. "You must bring me to the Reverend at once," she announced.

Ahcho clasped his hands behind his back and bent forward as if he had not heard her correctly. "Madam?"

She turned to Mai Lin. "I shall see my husband now. I have important family business to discuss with him."

Mai Lin reached for Mistress Grace's arm, but she pulled away.

"I don't want to hear either of you telling me that I can't go. After I see my husband, I shall sleep for days and will be a most agreeable patient. But if you make me stay here, I swear I will not rest for a single moment and will make us all miserable."

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for a reply. Ahcho didn't dare shoot a confirming glance at Mai Lin, but he could tell by the clucking sounds emanating from her that she agreed with him that the mistress's plan was most absurd.

"Why, I don't know where the Reverend is," he said.

Grace stamped a delicate foot on the carpet, and a cloud of yellow dust wafted around her. "Of course you do," she said. "You've known all along. You know far more than you let on. I don't hold it against you, but this is most urgent. You must take me to him."

Now Ahcho did look at Mai Lin, but she could only offer a mystified expression. What had come over their feeble mistress, Ahcho wanted to ask, to make her suddenly so strong a soul?

"I really ought to change out of my wedding dress, but we haven't the time," Mistress Grace continued. "I saw the Master's traveling coat hanging on the hook in the hall. Fetch it for me, please, Mai Lin."

Ahcho used his calmest voice as he said, "I don't mean to offend, Mistress, but you don't look well enough to make an expedition. You appear to be quite ill. Wouldn't you rather be in your bed with your baby at your side?"

Mistress Grace appeared to blanch for a moment at this commonsense suggestion, but she answered, "It is precisely because of my condition that I can't hesitate. I shall ride on donkey back. I have done it before. I am quite able."

Mai Lin returned with the Reverend's ragged traveling coat and held it up. The mistress slipped her arms into it. When she took an awkward spin in the long coat, it swished and more loess hovered in the air before settling on the rug.

"It's good you don't mind donkey back," Ahcho said to humor her, "because we no longer have a wagon."

"Is that so?" Grace asked with little concern in her voice, no sign that she grasped her situation. "How about a horse?"

"Long gone, I'm afraid."

"Ah," she said brightly. "Well, as I said, I'll be fine on a donkey. Thank you, Ahcho. I will wait outside on the porch for you. It is a lovely spring afternoon. The fresh air will be good for my lungs. But do come along and don't dawdle, please. I must see my husband today, and nightfall will soon be upon us."

Ahcho bowed, but he was not pleased. When the screen door wheezed shut and they heard the mistress's footsteps recede, Ahcho and Mai Lin stared at one another with wide eyes.

"Aieee!" she said in a harsh whisper. "They are cuckoo, the two of them."

"Don't be disrespectful," he said. "The Reverend is a great man. He built the roads and the hospital and— "

"Yes, yes," Mai Lin said, "I know about his accomplishments, but that was some time ago. He's no longer a great man."

"I disagree. The Reverend has faced terrible trials recently, but he will always be a great man, and his wife a fine lady."

Mai Lin waved her hand at him.

"They just need rest and peace," Ahcho said. "That's all."

"True," Mai Lin had to concede, but then she sidled up to him and poked at his chest with a bent finger. "Which, I do not need to tell you, they won't find on a dangerous journey to the Gobi Desert. And have you considered that their new baby might be kidnapped out there like the other one?"

She looked up at him with searching eyes, but Ahcho was not a man to discuss grave things lightly. It worried him terribly that a family's fate rested in his hands. He was no god, nor had he ever been meant to be one. For weeks now, he had tossed and turned sleeplessly. He wasn't any closer to understanding what to do than the evening he had shared a bottle with the traveling trader who had told him of the golden-haired prince who was surely better off wherever he was than this sorry lot here.

Ahcho pinched shut his lips and looked away.

"Sometimes," Mai Lin said with a coy singsong in her voice, "the Fates decide things for us. Our role is simply to sit back and watch."

Ahcho gazed into her sparkling dark eyes. For once, she appeared to intend nothing but good. As annoying as Mai Lin could be, she was loyal and sometimes even wise. For a rare moment, he allowed himself to relax. Perhaps, just this once, she was right. The Good Lord was watching over them all. Ahcho, as a simple servant of God, had only to steer the donkey on its path.