one who snatched fruit from the market, ate it without washing, and died the next morning. Just like that." She snapped her fingers. "And I am not even mentioning the hordes that came down from the mountains to slaughter all the white babies. You see, they have no business being here in the first place."
Ahcho cleared his throat and spoke as sternly as he could muster, despite his fatigue. "That's enough now. I remember the Boxer time better than anyone, but it is past. And besides, the Lord takes away babies only when he has a better use for them elsewhere, not as a punishment. The Lord is not a foolish old woman like you."
"Suit yourself. I'm just saying there are reasons for such disasters. The Spirits do not like things to change," Mai Lin said and squirted an arc of juice onto the ground. Ahcho heard it land as always with a splat, and this time it infuriated him.
He raised himself up to his full height, which was considerable for a Chinese man, and stood, steely and unperturbed, just as the Reverend would in a moment like this one. Also like the Reverend, Ahcho had no use for the old superstitions. Thoughts about Spirits were no longer permissible.
He preferred the new ways. Improvements were coming all the time. Although Fenchow-fu was only a small city, it boasted a new road and a hospital that the Reverend had built. Chinese children attended the Christian school with a roof over their heads. The Reverend had even recently proposed that a library be erected, although the province of Shansi possessed only one book, an encyclopedia that the town elders forbade anyone to open in order to preserve it. Ahcho was a chief propagandist of this new wave of progress and prosperity. And although he knew pride was a sin, he hoped it was all right that he was proud to be his master's number-one boy.
He glanced down at Mai Lin, seated on her haunches, her many skirts, ropes, cloth belts, and pouches spread out around her. No one could dispute that she knew everything about birthing and the care of babies. She could also help a patient recover from croup or a sour stomach, and sometimes even more serious illnesses. But as the future took hold, Mai Lin was in danger of becoming a sorry throwback to another time. She was the one who had less and less business being here.
"Enough about that," Ahcho said, his full voice returning with confidence. "Tomorrow morning, we will take the Reverend and Mistress Grace back to Fenchow-fu. I will prepare the wagon so they can lie down on straw in the back. The poor Master, every bump in the road will be agony with his broken rib."
"I will give him something for it."
"He will not take it."
"If he hurts enough, he will," she said, her laugh moist and abundant. Everything about her was that way, and for a brief moment, Ahcho did not let it bother him. He was in charge again and knew what needed to be done.
Then they both looked out at the night. The restless grasses hovered nearby, and the mountains rose, a shadow of a shadow in the distance. To find the boy, they would have to cross over them and then traverse much more.
"Little Wesley boy is out there," Ahcho said. "We must form a search party from the mission and return to the countryside as quickly as we can. The Reverend will not be able to lead it until his rib heals, but Reverend Charles Martin can rally the other ministers. I will help gather our own people. We must send messengers to every warlord in the neighboring provinces. We will try everything, and we will find him." Ahcho spoke with more assurance than he felt, but that was as one must when putting one's faith in the Lord. He had learned this from the Reverend.
Mai Lin let out a long hissing sound.
"What?" he asked, although he did not want to hear it.
"You know better," she said in a singsong voice that teased him. "The Fates have their ways."
Ahcho tapped his pipe on the railing to empty it. Now it was his turn to let out a disgusted sound. "Well, you know nothing," he said with finality. "The Lord Jesus is on our side, and miracles do happen. Just look at the Reverend tonight. Not one but two bullets, and he survived. It is remarkable, and so will be