Torn Asunder

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2

“I’m looking for Jesus in glory to come, from glory land over the sea.”

The sound of lapping water interrupted Hannah’s quiet song. She strained her ears. Was someone nearby? If they came after her, she had to be ready. She adjusted her bag. It was lighter after she gave away her food to the street children back at the bus stop.

The breeze was picking up. Hannah needed to move, but she couldn’t stop wondering about Simon. Was he already across the border? Would he make it all right? Would she? She had always relied on his wisdom. What would she do now they were apart? She could still hear his voice in her mind.”Never judge someone who fails a test you yourself have yet to pass.” Did either of them really know what tests lay ahead of them?

The last time she was at the Tumen River, she was a refugee, starving and terrified, fleeing the hunger and famine of her childhood. She tiptoed to the water’s edge. The river flowed lazily. It was never very deep this time of year. A few steps, and she would be to the other side. Had the same water lapped Simon’s feet when he crossed?

She sucked in her breath when her bare foot met the icy cold. She thought of the woman she had given her boots to a few hours ago back in Yanji. She didn’t regret helping the young mother out, but now Hannah’s thighs throbbed. The thin muscle on the front of her shins felt as tight as a piece of elastic about to snap, but she had to keep going. A little farther into the riverbed, she still hadn’t shaken the feeling of being watched. Was that a twig breaking behind her? She spun around. An animal, she assured herself. Just a little, harmless animal.

“A cloud of bright angels to carry me home ...”

A few more unsteady steps brought her to the other side. One year ago, Hannah had risked border police and prison camps for a small taste of freedom in China, but she had never forgotten her homeland. She filled her lungs with the cool North Korean air and was surprised at how familiar it felt. She was home.

“Yes, this will be heaven to me.”

The song always reminded her of Simon. Even now, she could almost hear him singing with such conviction and power, never once suspecting he was hopelessly out of tune. But that was Simon. Bold. Courageous. Wherever he was right now, he certainly wasn’t jumping and startling at every sound in the night. He’d hurry to complete the first phase of his mission without wondering about his own safety. Not like Hannah. She didn’t know how much time she had already wasted staring into the darkness, hoping for strength just to move into the woods after crossing the river.

She had memorized over a dozen verses about fear at the Secret Seminary. Mrs. Stern told her to recite the passages to herself whenever she felt anxious. But even when she set her mind on Scripture, all she could think about was him, the way he talked, the way he smelled when he sat next to her for breakfast around the Sterns’ big table. She remembered their conversation yesterday, the last night they spent in Yanji. She hadn’t been able to sleep and wandered into Mrs. Stern’s garden. Simon was reclining on the hammock, a Bible propped open against his chest, and she realized there was only one reason she had come out of her room at all.

It had nothing to do with fresh air or flowers.

“I thought you might still be awake.” His smile had a disarming way of drawing all of her blood to her cheeks.

She sat across from him on the bench and eyed his Bible. “What are you studying?”

“Isaiah. Listen to this.” He shone his little flashlight on the page and read, “It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.”

Simon’s voice soared with a wave of conviction that caused both yearning and aching to swell up in her spirit. He went on for several more verses. “Don’t you see?” He sat up. ­Hannah focused on his exact inflection. Once they left the Secret Seminary tomorrow, would she ever hear his voice again? “Isn’t it marvelous?” he asked.

She had missed everything he mentioned about the passage but nodded in agreement.

He closed the Bible and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

She pursed her lips together and looked at the stars. Would the sky look the same once she returned home? She was such a different person now. She realized that Simon was waiting for her and fumbled for a reply. “Just having a hard time sleeping, I suppose.”

He stretched his back, arching it to one side and then the other, nearly toppling out of the hammock. He cleared his throat twice, but the second time sounded more like a squeak. “Actually, since we’re both awake, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

She focused on her slippers and didn’t dare raise her eyes to his. One of Simon’s vertebrae popped as he twisted his spine once again. She sucked in her bottom lip and glanced up at him. “Yes?”

He froze mid-stretch. His mouth hung half open, and deep red flushed its way up to his ears. “It’s just that, well, I’m not exactly sure how to say this.” He stood up awkwardly. It wasn’t until then she realized how sweaty her palms had grown. With a heavy sigh, he sank to the bench beside her and crossed his arms. “I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re very brave. Being the only girl to graduate the program, I mean.”

Hannah stared into her lap and let out the breath she had been holding. “Thank you.”

An owl screeched once, interrupting Hannah’s memories. When would she stop acting so silly? She had work to do. There wasn’t time to stand around all night reminiscing about someone she would never see again. She couldn’t let the Sterns down. As she walked, she recited the directions she had memorized earlier.

She bit her lip. Were those leaves crunching? She braced herself for an attack that never came. After a few moments of perfect stillness, she looked up at the night sky and unclenched her jaw. At the rate she was going, she would never make it to her first stop before morning. Her bare feet were dripping wet, and the icy chill traveled through her veins up her aching legs.

It didn’t take her long to reach the right house. Finding the courage to approach it was another matter. Why had the Sterns thought she could do this? She was only a child, really, not even twenty. And here she was, staring at a cabin she lacked the courage to approach, snapping her head around at every strange noise.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

The passage promised peace and protection, but Hannah felt neither. Staring at the house, she wondered what sort of comfort she’d experience if National Security agents arrested her the moment she knocked on the door.

She stared a little longer and prayed for God’s help. Morning wouldn’t wait. Besides, Simon and the others had probably each received much more dangerous missions than hers. How hard could it be to drop off some supplies with a known believer? If she ever saw Simon again, she didn’t want to be ashamed of failing. As it was, she probably could have made her first two deliveries by dawn if she hadn’t wavered for so long. Now she would have to wait a whole day before meeting her next contact.

Crouching in the woods, she drank the last drops of her water and saved the empty bottle for later. Making as little noise as possible, she felt for the hidden zipper in her backpack and took out several of the books and devices. After tucking them into the vest beneath her sweater, she slid the backpack under a bush and covered it with leaves and twigs. It was time. If she wanted to back out, she should have thought of that before she left Yanji and crossed the border in the first place. Holding her breath, she rushed ahead as though she might die if she didn’t run fast enough.

A candle flickered inside the house, and the front door slipped open before she even reached the porch. She sucked in her breath, half prepared to see a National Security agent inside aiming a gun at her forehead.

“Come in, friend.” Mr. Tong was a full head shorter than Hannah, with deep furrows etched into his ancient face. His back curved over his cane, and his whole body swayed in slow, almost melodic gyrations. He groped in front of him until he found Hannah’s hand. “Forgive me, but I do my best seeing with these.” His grip hinted at a strength long since departed as he ran his thumbs across Hannah’s skin. “I have not had a visitor this young in many years.” He moved aside and gestured toward a chair near the back of the room. “And where is your partner?”

Hannah frowned. “I came alone.”

He tilted his head to the side. “A young man was with you, no?” He squinted his eyes and leaned out the door.

Hannah licked her lower lip. “No, I’m here by myself.” Simon might be in a completely different province by this time tomorrow. Would she ever stop wondering what became of him?

Mr. Tong tapped the side of his head. “You bring bread for me, no?” His shirt hung loose like a second set of skin, and his collarbone protruded through the cloth like a mountain ridge.

She thought about the little flower-swallows she had given all her food packs to before she crossed the Tumen River into North Korea. The street children had been so enthusiastic, rushing up to her, hanging onto her limbs. As soon as she emptied the front of her backpack, they were gone. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any food with me.”

He smiled. “Not food, child. Bread. Living Word. You have brought me the Word of God, no?”

Embarrassed, she took one of the audio devices and placed it in his outstretched palms. He felt the small machine and nodded, fingering the complex parts. “I can show you how it works,” she offered.

Mr. Tong shook his head. “There is no need. But I thank you for this treasure, child. It was just last week that I gave away my last player. That was one of the reasons I knew you would be coming, understand.”

Hannah didn’t understand, but she set the other units on the table in front of him. “I have four here all together. I wish it were more.”

Mr. Tong’s swaying grew even more pronounced. “A treasure, child.”

“I also brought you these.” Hannah slid the books out from her vest and placed them in his outstretched hands.

His milky eyes widened, and a smile cracked through the maze of wrinkles and creases on his face. He opened one of the Bibles and sniffed the pages loudly. “Manna from God Almighty.” He brought the book to his cheek and caressed its cover.

“I hope it’s enough.” She stood up.

He held the Bibles so tightly the veins in his forearms popped up like blue riverbeds. “There will never be enough. We pass out one Bible; ten people get saved. So then we need ten more Bibles, no? But why are you standing? Sit down. You have had a long journey, and I have expected you.”

Mr. Tong reached out, found Hannah’s hand, and pulled her back down onto the chair. With nimbleness despite his age, he made his way to the stove and grabbed two teacups. “You see, as soon as I ran out of the audio players, I knew you would be coming. I thought to myself, My visitors will be cold and thirsty. So I prepared you a treat.” She already recognized the smell of ginseng tea. Her stomach growled. He placed a small cup in front of her, along with a plate of pickled vegetables. “For you.” He smiled when she took her first bite, and she wondered with embarrassment if he could tell how hungry she was just by listening to her eat.

He brought his own mug over. “It is good, no?” He grunted as he sat down. “The ginseng is not easy to find, but today is a day to celebrate. It has been several months since I have shared food and fellowship with another believer. You sing?”

“Sing?” She took a scalding sip and thought of the many afternoons she spent sharing honey-sweetened tea with Mrs. Stern back in Yanji.

Mr. Tong rested his cup on the table and turned his head toward the window. “Sometimes I hear it, you know.”

She followed his gaze. “Hear what?”

“Music. Sacred songs my grandmother taught me. She grew up with church. But that was before ... What did you say your name was?”

Hannah froze.

Mr. Tong sighed. “Forgive me. I should not have asked. But tell me, do you know any hymns?”

She rolled her tongue across her lip. “Yes, we were taught some at our ...” She took another sip of tea, glad that Mr. Tong could only hear her stammer and not also see her blush. “Yes, I know some hymns.”

He leaned forward in his chair “You will sing for me, no?”

She lowered her cup. “Now?”

Mr. Tong had already closed his eyes and clasped his hands on the table. A serene, expectant smile spread across his face. Hannah glanced around the room nervously before she began. The old man’s body swayed in time with the music.

“Sweetly, sweetly now I rest,

Joy and comfort, I am blessed.

Not a sorrow, not a fear,

While these loving words I hear.”

She sang as quietly as possible. Mr. Tong’s neighbors didn’t live very close, but she couldn’t stand the thought of putting the old man in further danger. When she finished, he leaned back in his chair. They sat for several minutes in silence.

“Beautiful,” he finally breathed. For a moment, she wondered if he had forgotten she was still there, but then he faced her again. “You will let me send you off with provisions, no? You have a long journey ahead of you.” He stood up. “Here.” He handed her two small sacks already prepared. She opened her mouth to protest. “Ahhh,” Mr. Tong exclaimed, holding up a finger. “You think this is too much, no? But remember, I am an old man. I cannot feast like I once could. But you, you both have a long journey ahead of you. You must accept these. I insist.”

Hannah took the bags.

He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. “And now we will pray before you go, no?” Without any hesitation, he lifted his voice to heaven. She wondered if he spent his days like this, in constant communion with the Father.

When the old man’s blessing ended, she thanked him for the visit, quietly set the two sacks of food back on the table, and left. She walked back to the woods as the sun was rising, and a peace rested in her spirit. By the time she reached her backpack, her eyelids were half shut. She found a small clearing well out of sight of the main trail, made a shelter under some bushes, and let her exhausted body drift off to sleep.