Thinking of Thea always brought a smile to Bram’s face. She had been his wife for the last six years and she was more than he deserved.
Still, he wasn’t sure how she would respond to him bringing home a strange girl. Normally Thea would be overjoyed to take on just this sort of project. Thea collected people like others might collect stray animals. To Thea it was unheard of to leave a person without a home and loving care as long as she could do something about it. If it were up to her she’d take each and every forlorn creature under her wing and nurture them until they were on their feet once again.
Over the last six years there had been dozens of people in and out of their home, some staying a week, others months or longer. All of them were in need and stranded for some reason or another. Sometimes Bram wasn’t even sure why they were there but Thea knew them all, all their hurts and pains and problems. To her credit there were more victories than failures. Sure, some had come to take advantage of a gentle soul like Thea’s. Usually they left suddenly in the middle of the night, stealing some small thing of value before heading on their way, but mainly Thea’s strays were gentle people in need of a roof over their head and two loving arms to hold them.
Their latest strays had been with them a year already. Mitchell Chellings died in the summer last year and it wasn’t a month later that his widowed wife, Sarah, and daughter, Charity moved in.
Left penniless and alone save for her daughter Charity, Sarah had nowhere to go and no way to earn an income. Charity was eleven years old but her mind was underdeveloped from birth and she required full-time caretaking.
Charity was the daughter of Mitchell and Sarah’s old age, Sarah being forty-five when Charity was born and Mitchell fifty-three. The Chellings were overjoyed when they found out they were to have a child. Their only son, Robert, had died many years before when he drowned in a river that had overflowed its banks. He was only nine years old and had been dead for almost twenty years when Charity was born. Sarah and Mitchell never seemed able to move past the tragedy, that is, until Charity came along and their hearts were renewed.
But their joy was checked when Sarah’s labor and delivery continued for three days. The midwife was not certain at the time if even Sarah would survive to see her dead child, for there was no doubt in the midwife’s mind that the child would be stillborn.
Yet after three days of exhausting labor Sarah found the strength to push her child into this world. Thea, who assisted with the birthing, later told Bram that for a moment she did think that Sarah had died.
Thea leaned close to see if Sarah was breathing, and after a moment Sarah turned her head and spoke in a voice barely audible and asked, “Why isn’t she crying?”
Thea felt tears spring into her own eyes, joy that her friend was alive and sadness at having to tell her that her baby had never taken a breath and would never cry. Exhausted from her own bedside vigil, Thea lowered her head to the mattress and tucked it close beside Sarah’s body. At that very moment there was a gravelly cry, weak but present, and Thea swung her head toward the noise. The child, while being cleaned by the midwife, had first gasped and then let out the cry. The midwife, Mrs. Newman, a tall, thin, severe looking woman, was so shocked she just stared at the child.
“Give her to me,” Sarah whispered. Neither Thea nor the midwife expected the miracle child to take another breath, but breathe she did.
Physically, the child Charity was healthy and strong. Yet her mental facilities had stopped developing at four and they refused to progress any further, but to Sarah and Mitchell a more perfect baby had never been born. Even in their impoverished state they were happy people, thankful to God in all circumstances. But last year Mitchell had died. He had worked hard all the days of his life and at last his heart had given out while working in his fields. Soon after, Sarah and Charity joined the Armstrong family.
Even as Bram stood there thinking it over it occurred to him that having someone come and stay with you for a short period of time, or allowing friends that you’ve known most of your life, like the Chellings, to come and board, is much different from taking in a girl from a foreign place and of unknown upbringing. Even so, Thea would take it on, the more challenging the situation the more she seemed to throw herself into it and this situation was definitely bound to be challenging.
Still, Bram was having severe misgivings about bringing this girl home and it wasn’t just facing his church members that were bringing them on. Searching his heart, Bram understood the real reason for his extreme anxiety. Gabriel.
Since he had been born Thea had time to focus on only one person in her life, their three month old son.
He and Thea had waited five long years for God to bless them with a child and after all that time it seemed that it was not meant to be. But then last year, right about the time that he and Thea had given up hoping, she conceived.
Thea appeared to enjoy every moment of her pregnancy; she seemed to have extra energy and was rarely seen without a smile on her face. It wasn’t until her last month that she started to slow down, taking more time to rest, occasionally complaining about pain in her back or sometimes shooting down her leg. She barely even brightened up in those last days when Abel came to visit. He brought with him a cradle that he had built and carved for the baby. Bram suspected that he had made it, or at least started it, for his own child, although Abel never said a word about that and Bram wouldn’t ask. Abel was in high spirits those days, joking with Thea and distracting her from her own discomfort. It was good to see him happy again, at least for a little while.
Abel left before Thea gave birth but returned soon after baby Gabriel was born. Abel was in for a shock the day he arrived at Bram’s door to offer his congratulations and to get his “hand’s on the little fellow.” The “little fellow” was at that very moment making a very big noise. Gabe left the womb screaming and had not yet chosen to stop. His constant crying had Thea on edge all the time. He would close his mouth just long enough to nurse and then after barely satisfying his hunger he would stop drinking and resume screaming. Ear piercing screams and cries for which there was no antidote and no relief. Sarah had considered moving away temporarily with Charity because the screaming upset the small girl so, but Bram had convinced her to stay, if only to spare Thea’s remaining thread of sanity.
Even this trip today into King’s Port was only made possible by two ladies from church coming over to help Thea and take turns jiggling, swinging and patting Gabe.
To be honest, Bram was delighted to get away for the one night and day. He had slept at Abel’s last night before starting off early this morning to buy the bell. One night of peaceful sleep, he almost had forgotten that nights like that exist.
Since birth Gabe awoke several times a night with an ear piercing shriek that shot you right out from under your covers. Experienced mothers often comforted them and said that Gabe would eventually grow out of the crying; on even the best days, Bram found that hard to believe. What will Thea do when he brings this girl into the madhouse that had taken over their home? Bram suddenly thought as he glanced up at the large ship and saw that they were bringing her back out.
Seeing her now, up close, Bram was astonished at her frailty. It was hard to believe that she had even survived the boat journey, for surely it was far and must have taken several weeks or possibly months to reach this port.
He was able to observe her more closely now that she was nearer to him. Her head was down and her arms hung at her sides, swinging back and forth. He couldn’t see her face yet because she was still staring at her feet, but he could see her skin.
He had never seen skin quite that color before; it was brown and creamy, the color of the wood in Abel’s workshop that had been sanded and lovingly polished and set aside for the choicest of projects. Unblemished and even-toned, her skin did not appear to have a mark on it. She finally lifted her head to look at him.
The two of them stood there on the stinking dock with the gulls screaming overhead and stared at one another. Her round black eyes held no emotion, not fear, not anger, not even resignation. They were surprisingly blank.
Leaving the boat for the last time was more painful than she had imagined it would be, Hiren thought as she walked away from it. After existing for so many months in the bowels of the ship, dreaming every day of leaving it and never returning to sea, Hiren was surprisingly reluctant to part from her temporary home. At least on the ship she knew what was expected of her. Keep quiet and don’t wander above. Manju had taught her that.
“Shhh. Sleep now,” a soft voice said in Hiren’s ear.
There was very little that Hiren could remember about her first days and weeks on the ship, except for the sickness that had wracked her body. Burning up with fever, her eyes and skin ached and burned as if they were on fire. Yet, she could also remember the cool hand that would rest on her cheek and brow and the sweet voice that spoke to her in a language that she could almost understand. Black eyes would smile down at her in the fleeting moments when the pain would depart long enough for Hiren to open her own.
Then as quickly as the sickness came it departed, leaving her weakened in body and a mere shell of her former self. But through it all there was Manju. Although younger than Hiren by a year or two Manju had wisdom far beyond that of other little girls; and although communication was difficult between them, it wasn’t long before Hiren came to understand that Manju had been married to the gods from the time she was very small.
When Hiren was younger she remembered hearing stories of other girls and boys her own age who were married to the gods and sent to live in the temples. She didn’t know what it was like to be the wife of a god and she tried many times to ask and explain her question to Manju, but Manju never answered; instead she acted as if she did not understand Hiren’s questions although Hiren was fairly certain that she did. Manju just chose not to answer. She would simply and laboriously explain to Hiren that she had lived in the temple for as long as she could remember.
Over the weeks that they spent together on the boat Hiren had asked this question many times and in many ways, yet Manju never revealed the answer.
It was a silent night at sea and after many days of storms it was the silence that woke Hiren. Reaching out with her hand she searched in the darkness under their one blanket for Manju. But after reaching all around and not finding her Hiren became worried, for there was nowhere to go on the ship but up and Manju would never go there. Yet, even as Hiren considered it she heard a noise from the other side of the long, cluttered room. She stood to her feet and carefully, so as not to trip over any of the crates and barrels that filled the room, made her way toward the noises on the other side. As she drew near to the sounds she froze, because Hiren realized that what she was hearing was a sound that could only be made by a man. It was deep and hoarse and most certainly did not come from her little Manju. Startled by the presence of a man in this room and afraid of being discovered, she quickly turned to return to her corner. In her haste she rammed her shin into the edge of one of the wooden crates and cried out in pain before she could stop herself.
“Hiren?” Manju? She thought as she sat on the floor and rubbed her shin and tried not to make any more noise. “Hiren, go sleep.” It was Manju’s voice. She sounded frightened and her voice was coming from the same direction as the man’s.
Frozen in uncertainty, Hiren’s impulse was to rush to Manju so that they could hide together from this intruder. But even as she rose painfully to her feet Manju’s voice came again.
“Hiren, no come here, go sleep.” Then she heard the voice of the man and Hiren realized that it was “Baldy”, the girls’ nickname for the man who came to give them food every day. They laughed at him behind his back because he had no hair and his head was always red from the sun. Hiren knew his voice well; Baldy would sit and talk and stare at the girls while they ate, even though they could not understand anything he said and would not interact with him. Hiren recognized him instantly and now his voice was filled with anger and she was full of fear.
There were tears streaming from her eyes and she silently scrambled back to her bed and covered herself with the coarse blanket. Hiren left Manju with him because there was nowhere for them to go.
She didn’t sleep that night, although later when Manju came back to their spot on the floor and joined her beneath the covers she pretended to sleep. In the morning Hiren spoke not a word about the night before to Manju, nor did she ask again what it was like to be the wife of the gods. She knew now. Maybe she had always known.
Thinking of Manju was painful and Hiren could feel the tears spring into her eyes as she stood staring at this man in front of her. This was the one who had called out last when she was standing on the platform. She had been able to tune out most of what was going on around her, yet his voice had broken through and touched her ear.
After he spoke the second time the other men gathered around him and she could no longer see his face. After that she was quickly removed from the platform and locked back in the bottom of the ship.
“He purchased me,” Hiren thought as she stared into his face. It became clear to her now what had occurred earlier today. The men had bargained for her in their marketplace as if she were an object to be bought and sold. She felt a fresh jolt of fear hit her body like a strike of lightning; there was no longer any Manju to protect her. Breathing became difficult and Hiren’s body tensed. The men from the ship, standing behind her must have sensed the change in her because one of them grabbed hold of her arm and shoved her toward the man in front of her. It was Baldy, she heard him speaking to the man in his language and laughing. Then the thin man in the big coat took hold of her arm, not roughly like Baldy had, but loosely, as if he didn’t want to touch her at all.
Looking up at the man holding her arm, she saw him speak to the men behind her and then he started to lead her away.
