Torn Asunder

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

She woke up far later than she planned. The shadows had moved to the other side of the woods. She was so thirsty it was hard to breathe without coughing. She thought about returning to Mr. Tong’s. Her next destination was at least five kilometers away. She could use another cup of tea before she traveled any farther. Why hadn’t she accepted at least one of the old man’s sacks of provisions? Didn’t Jesus himself teach his disciples to eat what was set before them?

It was still several hours before nightfall. If Mr. Tong’s neighbors saw her visit, they might grow suspicious. On the other hand, it was a long way to her next delivery, and she didn’t know if there would be any food to forage or any streams to drink from along the way. During the Great Hardship, the famine that ravaged Hannah’s childhood, she would often go whole days without eating. But after spending a full year with the Sterns, she wasn’t accustomed to the discomfort of hunger or the intensity of thirst.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she made up her mind. She couldn’t put Mr. Tong in extra danger just for a little snack. If the Lord wanted her to make it to her next meeting, he would give her the strength to get there. She stood up and hefted her pack onto her back. As she began her slow hike through the woods, she regretted giving all the food away to the flower-swallows in Yanji. Wouldn’t God understand if she kept a few granola bars for herself? Since she was doing the work of the Lord, she needed to keep up her energy so she could complete her tasks, didn’t she?

She recalled one evening she spent with Simon in Mrs. Stern’s garden discussing the Sermon on the Mount. “When Jesus says, Ask, and you will receive,” Hannah had questioned, “do you think that’s a promise or just a generalization?”

Simon frowned. “A promise, I guess. Why do you ask?”

Hannah thought about the people who lived in her village during the Great Hardship, the believing mothers who prayed in vain for food every day, the hungry children who ended up abandoned on the streets once their parents starved. “It’s just sometimes I wonder, you know? Like what about ...” She fumbled for the right words.

“The famine,” he answered with a sigh. It was the only time he hadn’t been able to answer one of her theological questions.

When Hannah had walked less than a kilometer from Mr. Tong’s, she arrived at a small stream. Her first thought was what she’d tell Simon about what God did for her the first day of her mission. A real answer to prayer. Just like Jesus said. She took her backpack off, knelt down, and cupped the water to her mouth like the soldiers in Judges. She thought about the story of Gideon. Would she feel any braver if an angel spoke with her?

After she drank, she sat back against a tree. She loved the sound of the rippling stream. Compared to Yanji, everything here was so peaceful. There were no roads or homes or people in sight. Nothing but God, the river, the trees ...

Stretching her legs in front of her, she took off the paper around her neck and studied the map. She didn’t have time to waste, but as soon as she stood up, she had to grasp the tree trunk to support herself. She was so hungry, the whole woods looked like it was spinning. She pressed her hand against her empty belly and chastised herself. After God answered her prayers and led her to water, was she now going to demand food as well? How was she any better than the Israelites who grumbled in the wilderness as soon as the Lord led them across the Red Sea?

She knelt down again by the stream. At least she could fill her stomach with water. She reached into her bag for the empty bottle and found three granola bars. How could she have missed them earlier? She was too famished to wonder for very long. Her mouth watered as she opened one of the wrappers with trembling fingers. She hadn’t even been in North Korea for twenty-four hours, and already God had met every one of her needs. She thought back to last night in the woods, how scared she had been in the dark, and rebuked herself for acting so foolish. What would Simon think if he had seen her?

A branch snapped a few paces behind her. She spun her head around. There was nothing to be afraid of. Hadn’t she memorized all those Bible verses about courage for a reason? She needed to take her thoughts captive instead of letting fear hold its powerful sway over her. What would the Sterns say? What would Simon say? She needed to move on. She took a bite of granola bar and then stood, swinging her backpack up to her shoulders.

“Softly, softly in my ear, Jesus whispers, ‘I am near.’”

A few minutes later Hannah paused. The back of her neck tingled. Was that a twig breaking behind her? She felt her spine go rigid. It’s nothing, she told herself. Just a squirrel. She strained her ears but only heard her own pulse. It was silly to be so fearful. Of course she wasn’t alone. How many perfectly safe animals lived here and watched Hannah from their camouflaged homes? She wasted enough time last night. Courage or no courage, she needed to press on.

“‘It’s my hand that guides your way, I’ll protect you night and day.’”

A bolt of color flashed in her periphery. She clenched the straps of her bag and didn’t dare glance around. Her mind told her to run, but her body wouldn’t respond. She held her breath and could only focus on one thought: Somebody’s here. But who would be following her in the forest? It if were a North Korean agent, he would have stopped her by now, wouldn’t he? Unless he was trailing her to find out who her next contact was.

A small breeze sent shivers scurrying up Hannah’s spine. She thought of her crisis training. Hadn’t Mr. Stern primed her for situations just like this? If she was lucky, it was just a hungry vagabond looking for someone to rob, but she had to assume her stalker came from the National Security Agency. She had to protect the believers whose names and addresses she carried around her neck. She was too small to fight off an attacker, agent or not.

She counted to five, keeping her movements slow and deliberate. Whoever it was out there, he couldn’t know what she was about to do. With her back to her potential assailant, she crept her hand beneath her sweater and freed the list that hung from her neck. With her hand still concealed under her clothes, she crumbled the paper into a small, tight ball. She didn’t hear any movement from behind, but she kept her body tense and ready for his assault. She fingered the crumpled list. It was small enough she probably wouldn’t choke, but swallowing it wouldn’t be easy. There was nothing else to do. She lifted her hand to her mouth slowly, hoping it looked as if she were just about to yawn or scratch her cheek.

“Stop!” Someone raced toward her from behind, crunching branches, trampling leaves. She shut her eyes, braced her body, and managed to shove the wadded paper into her mouth just as a hand clamped down over her face. The attacker grabbed her arms from behind. Her backpack dropped to the floor, and she bent over, gagging. The ball dropped from her mouth. She reached for it.

“Hannah, don’t.”

All the blood froze in her veins.