Whispers of Refuge Box Set

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5

With trembling hands, Mr. Tong rinsed his teacups and placed them on the counter. He could not remember the last time he had been blessed with two visitors in one day. He thought about the young girl who brought him the New Testaments, his memories morphing seamlessly into prayer. “Such a young one. Pretty voice.” Mr. Tong had lived alone ever since the Peninsula War. His wife and son had fled south ahead of him, but he did not make it out in time. He could not remember when he started speaking out loud. Sometimes he grew too careless; even conversations with the air could incriminate him if the wrong neighbor happened to overhear.

After drying the dishes, he walked over to the framed photograph of the Dear Leader. Years of loneliness taught him that even a portrait was better company than an empty house. Behind the picture frame hid a loose brick. Mr. Tong groped with his fingers and reached into the small opening. First, he pulled out one of the new audio devices. It was not safe to listen to now, but he fingered the buttons of the small machine, drinking in the ecstasy that coursed through his arm at the simple touch. He reached farther back and took out one of the New Testaments. He closed his eyes, a vestigial gesture from his seeing days, and brought the small book up to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he relished the scent of the thin paper, overwhelmed by an awe too deep to express in human language. He had never been blessed with much musical skill, but his silent praises floated heavenward to the throne room of God Almighty.

Mr. Tong swayed, the result of his rapture as much as his palsy. He would never be able to read again, not until his Savior called him up to heaven and gave him a new body, but he counted himself as one of the most blessed men in the world, for in his hands was the living and active Word of God.

***

His right arm is under my head and his left hand embraces me. The verse made Hannah blush. The Song of Solomon certainly wasn’t one of the books the Secret Seminary members discussed together, but the Sterns encouraged the students to study Scripture independently. Hannah never made it through the entire Bible like Simon, but she stumbled across Song of Solomon one day and read all eight chapters in a single sitting. Afterwards, she was riddled with guilt for peering into such a romantic account of longing and passion, but she was too embarrassed to talk about it with Mrs. Stern. She certainly never mentioned it to Simon.

After that first instance, she decided she probably shouldn’t look at the Song of Solomon again unless she ever got married, which was an unlikely event, given her calling. Still, that verse was all she could think about while she watched Simon sleep. Her whole body heated up with each rise and fall of his chest. She resisted the urge to sweep some of his dark hair off his brow. He looked so tender, his head resting on Hannah’s backpack, his feet curled up behind him like a small child’s. She could picture how snug she would fit if she were to curl up in front of him, the curve of his body perfectly matching hers.

She bit her lip and looked away. Should she have confessed her clandestine reading to Mrs. Stern? Maybe then the words wouldn’t have such power over her. If the Son has set you free, you shall be free indeed. God would need to deliver Hannah from her unruly emotions. Perhaps it would have been better if Simon hadn’t come with her after all. But she couldn’t keep her eyes away from his peaceful slumber and realized she would do almost anything to keep him here beside her.

***

“You are not safe yet. Wait another few days.” Mr. Tong had been arguing with himself for the past half hour. Since he no longer had an audio Scripture recording of his own, he was eager to hear the words of his Savior once more. He shook his head from side to side as he shuffled across the room. “You had two visitors today,” he whispered. “You will be under suspicion. Wait it out, no? You will have your chance soon enough.”

He groaned as he lowered himself onto his sleeping mat, remembering again to pray for the young girl who visited him earlier. “Heaven knows I cannot make the kind of journeys she does anymore.” As usual, the mental image of his young bride smiled down on him as he worked to get comfortable in his bed. She would be an octogenarian by now if she were still alive, but he pictured her as she was when he last saw her, a young mother with twinkling eyes. “You know I miss you more every single day, no?”

He pulled his blanket up to his chin. The threadbare material did nothing to ward off the cold, but it served as a faint reminder of the way his beloved wife had curled up against him while they slept side by side so many years ago.

***

Hannah was thankful the darkness hid her flushed cheeks when Simon finally woke up.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Two hours. Maybe three.” She turned away, embarrassed to hear how groggy his voice sounded. If he married one day, is that what his wife would hear every morning?

He looked up. “Cloudy.”

She nodded. She had noticed, too. It would make it that much easier for them to stay hidden. Even though Simon was with her, she was more nervous about this delivery than she had been about Mr. Tong’s. The address was in the middle of town, and they would have to walk past several houses before coming to the right one. “I don’t know how long we have until morning,” she observed. “We better get going.”

“We?”

She bit her lip. She had assumed he would come with her. “You’re right. I guess it’s safer if I go alone.” She opened up her backpack and took out two audio units.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready.”

He placed his hand over hers. “I thought we agreed that this stuff is too dangerous for you.”

At first, she was too surprised to protest. What was he saying? That he expected to take over all the work now they were together?

He fingered the string around her neck that held the crumpled piece of paper she had tried so hard to protect. “Here. You better give me your contact list, too.”

She snatched it back. “No.” She hadn’t meant to sound that forceful. “I mean, this is my assignment. I ... I want to have a part in it.”

Simon gently opened her fist. He took the contact list and stuffed it into his coat pocket, letting his fingers linger on hers. “You do have a part in it. We’re working together, remember?” He opened the backpack a little wider and took out a few more audio players and New Testaments. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” she asked in a faint whisper.

He stood up, his body so close to hers he could have reached out and wrapped both arms around her if he chose to. “I don’t want to worry about you. I couldn’t bear it if something happened.” A dozen arguments flashed through her mind. She hadn’t risked her life to cross the border just to become someone’s pack mule. She kept her mouth shut.

He brushed her cheek with his finger. “Promise me you’ll stay safe.”

She hoped he didn’t notice her body tense. “I will.” She wished he would hold her in his arms once more, like he had near the stream.

He zipped up his coat. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll be here.”

***

“Get up, old man,” the gruff voice demanded.

Mr. Tong did not open his eyes but counted three pairs of hands on him, dragging, yanking, tugging him out of bed.

“You are welcome here, strangers.” He hoped his assailants knew his hands trembled with age, not with fear. “I will make you a cup of tea, no?”

“Shut up, dog.”

Mr. Tong noted the crispness of their uniforms. National Security Agency. Decades of clandestine work for the underground church had finally caught up with him. He nodded his head, thankful this last pilgrimage of his was not taking place in the merciless chill of winter. His hole-ridden blanket fell forgotten to the floor.

“May you use my home as a sanctuary for others,” he whispered before a guard elbowed him in the ribs. He did not cry out when they forced him out the door. He stumbled in the dark, and an agent shoved him into a car. He lifted his chin high. He would not be ashamed. He would not show them fear. He had survived the past five decades only guessing what happened to his wife.

If he died tonight, he would either be reunited with his beloved or at least be able to watch her from above.