After the Ashes (10 page)

“I brought your lunch.” I thrust the basket across the counter, still fuming. How could Vader betray me like this?

“
Dank u
, Katrien,” he said, rising to take the food. “That was kind.”

I wanted nothing more than to be out of his presence. But through the window, I caught another glimpse of the smoke from Krakatau and my fears about the volcano came flooding back. “The De Groots have left,” I said in a leaden voice.

“Have they? I knew they were discussing moving, but I didn't realize it would be so soon.” He leaned back in the chair and ate a slice of star fruit. “I shall miss them. They have been wonderful neighbors.”

“Don't you want to know why they went?”

“I suppose they have their reasons.” He ate another piece of fruit. “It's not for me to pry.”

“Because of Krakatau.” I could not keep the story inside me any longer and told him everything Mrs. De Groot said.

When I stopped talking, he raised his eyebrows.

“She thinks the eruption in May was a warning,” I said. “She thinks we should leave now. While we still have time.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “And what do you think?”

I pushed up my spectacles. “I don't know. She was terrified, but parts of her story seemed too incredible to be true. And Krakatau is forty kilometers away.”

“Mount Tambora was farther,” he reminded me.

“
Ja
, but . . .” I paced. “It's on a larger island. It follows, then, that an eruption from a larger landmass would be bigger. Doesn't it?”

He nodded. “Perhaps. We are still learning about Earth's geology.”

I twisted my skirt in my hands and focused on the wrinkles in the fabric.

“You have something you want say?” he asked.

I stayed silent. How could I express myself without sounding ridiculous? Or, worse, unladylike?

“Katrien?” He rapped the desk.

At last I whispered, “I wish I could have seen the eruption.”

“Of Mount Tambora?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Krakatau. In May.”

He grimaced. “Having heard Mr. Brinckerhoff's story—and others, too—I'm glad we were in Batavia with Maarten. Safe from whatever was happening.”

“Then maybe we should leave.”

He gazed at me for a long moment. “Is that what you want?”

“No,” I said with a force that surprised me.

“And why not? Tell me what you're thinking.”

I let out a long breath. “I have no reason to doubt Mrs. De Groot's story, but some of it was so incredible. And even if it all happened just as she said, Krakatau is on a smaller island.” I gazed directly into Vader's eyes. “I want to be here,” I said firmly.

“Then we will stay,” he replied, turning back to his lunch. “Especially since I had no plans to leave anyway.”

“Then why did you ask me?” The question popped out before I even knew I was thinking it.

He crossed his arms. I didn't say anything, unsure if I was about to be punished or praised. The silence stretched between us, and I focused on the sound of the ocean's waves sweeping onshore.

“Your opinion is important to me, Katrien,” he said. “But I am the head of our household.”

“But why ask for my opinion if it doesn't matter?” Like Oom Maarten's dog, Torben, cornering a house gecko, I would not let Vader get away from this.

“I never said your opinion did not matter. It matters a great deal. But mine is the one we will be following in this matter. That we agree is important, but not necessary.”

“But if yours is the one that matters, why ask for mine?” I asked again. So many decisions were being made for me today that I could not help lashing out.

He ran his hands through his hair. “Katrien, I ask for your thoughts because I want you to be clever and smart and able to function on your own. I do not know what the future holds for you, but there are certain tenets that will, in all likelihood, be true. You will finish your schooling. You will get married, and you will have children. God willing, you and your husband will live a long, happy life together.”

I shuddered. Hadn't I just told him I didn't want a husband?

“Don't make that face, Katrien. Marriage is wonderful. Your mother and I were quite happy until she became ill. And she was ill for such a long time, as you know.”

I nodded. Rarely did I ever see her outside. She could walk but had to lean on the walls for support.

“And your grandfather—my father—also had a long battle with illness. I became head of that household when I was fourteen years old.”

I nodded again, unsure of what to say.

“My mother was unable to do much to assist me, and I do not want you to be in that position. Do you understand?”

“
Ja
, Vader.” For once, I thought I actually did. Maybe that was what Tante Greet was really trying to teach me with all the counting of foodstuffs. Independence. In case things took an unexpected turn.

He turned back to his desk. “
Dank u
, again, for bringing my lunch.”

With one final glance at the smoky line seeping from Krakatau, I left.

My dear Oom Maarten,

You won't believe what I saw in the jungle today. A silvery gibbon! She was beautiful. I'd never seen one before, and I watched her for as long as I dared.

I spotted her after hearing this terribly loud cry. WOOP! WOOP! WOOOOOP! And then it became a series of barks. Woop. Woop. Woop. Woop. Woop. Quite different from Torben's barks, which are sharper and more piercing.

A puff of bright silver hair surrounded her delicate black face, making her look older than I'm sure she was. She waved one hand at me, and it was so similar to mine. Four long black fingers and a thumb.

When she moved off, farther into the jungle, she had such grace. She was a dancer, a spirit.

Oh, I could almost fly with excitement. She mesmerized me. I don't know if I've ever seen anything so lovely. I wish you could have seen her. I'm going to try to draw her from memory. If you choose the green vine wallpaper, then a silvery gibbon would look wonderful swinging from one vine to another!

Yours in amazement,
Katrien

Three days after my conversation with Vader, I plodded up to the iron gates of the convent where Brigitta already stood ringing the brass bell on the post. Although the girls' school we attended was connected to the convent, I had never been on the convent's grounds.

An unfamiliar nun opened the gate. “Brigitta Burkart and Katrien Courtlandt?” she asked. Her voice was barely audible over the screeching hinges.

“
Ja
, Sister.” We replied together, as if we had rehearsed it.

“Follow me.” She led us into a building separate from the church and housing. “Sister Hilde,” she called, “the girls are here.”

Sister Hilde smiled when she saw us. “Two of my favorite pupils.” She had such a forthright manner that I didn't think she was capable of saying anything less than the truth. She took us aside and whispered, “I'm afraid today is not going to be exciting for you. It's laundry day, and unfortunately, it's my turn to assist. However, I can help you out a bit. Washing is such unpleasant work, and we have already begun our labors with it. The two of you can hang the linens, and you'll be out in God's glorious sunshine.”

“That will be fine, Sister,” I said.

Brigitta sighed and agreed. This surprised me. Why was she being so disrespectful? She could at least feign pleasantness. I had
seen her do it hundreds of times. What was different today? I didn't want to hang laundry either, but that wasn't Sister Hilde's fault.

“Wonderful.” Sister Hilde handed each of us a basket overflowing with clean white sheets. “The lines are to the back of the building. Oh!” She stopped us with a wave of her hand, and set a cloth sack on each laundry pile. “Clothespins.”

I lugged my basket outside with Brigitta beside me. Each of us walked to a separate line to work. The convent had six rope clotheslines set up in a clear area, away from trees and animals.

Setting the basket at my feet, I grabbed two pins and a sheet. The breeze blew in from the ocean as I wrestled the wet material onto the line, careful not to let it hit the dirt. It took three tries before I got enough of the fabric over the rope to keep it from falling. Brigitta, I was pleased to notice, was having as much trouble as I.

The silence between us hung as heavily as the sheets. Chickens clucked near the convent's coop, and the spicy aroma of fish soup drifted from the kitchen. The nuns made soup once a week for poor natives, which seemed more charitable than what Brigitta and I were doing. I felt more like I was being punished. Perhaps that's what Brigitta's problem was today. Perhaps she felt the same as I did, and for once, she couldn't manage to hide it.

Interesting as the idea was, I didn't dwell on it for long. I had Vader and Tante Greet to think about. They insisted I work with Brigitta, insisted I overcome our differences. They would question me about my day at supper, and my life would be much easier if I could tell them I tried. I took a deep breath. “Did you think this is what you would be doing today?”

She grunted in response.

Fine. I tried another tactic. “Why did you choose the convent to work?”

Throwing a sheet over the clothesline, she said, “I was hoping to work in the herb garden.”

“The herb garden? Why the herb garden?”

“I like plants.”

I froze, dumbfounded. If she had told me that Galileo was wrong and the sun revolved around Earth, I would have been less flummoxed. “You mean botany?”

She picked up her basket. “Certainly not.”

“Of course not.” I crossed my arms. “Heaven forbid you express an interest in something unseemly like science.”

Brigitta stepped toward me until we were almost nose to nose. “If I'm interested in plants in any way, Katrien, it's still more acceptable than your disgusting desire to surround yourself with bugs.”

“Insects,” I said, shoving her away from me.

Her laundry basket fell out of her arms and bounced away as she stumbled backward. “What is the matter with you?” She pushed me right back.

“I'm sick of getting in trouble because of you.” I kicked a mound of dirt toward her.

She gasped and jumped out of the way. Glaring at me with the fury of a rampaging Javan rhinoceros, she marched back over to me. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, venom dripping from her voice.

“Every time I defend myself against you, I get punished.”

“Defend yourself?” she screeched. “You always insult me! You belittle me! You're rude to my friends!”

“Only because you hurt me first!” I hollered, giving her another shove. As she fell backward, she reached out for something to steady herself. She clutched at a nearby sheet blowing in the breeze, but she was already too off balance and the force of her falling body snapped the clothesline. All the sheets dropped to the ground, along with Brigitta, and the dirt smeared onto the wet fabric like the ink I was forever splattering onto my beetles' identifcation labels.

“What is going on out here?” The anger-filled voice of Mother Superior shot across the yard.

Before I could get a word out, Brigitta blurted, “Katrien pushed me!”

It took Mother Superior only a few strides to reach us. “Come with me. Both of you.”

We followed her into the church, behind the altar and into the sacristy. Then Mother Superior turned her cold, snakelike eyes on me and said, “Since the two of you can't do something as simple as hang laundry without fighting, you will work here where you can't do as much damage. Katrien, you will polish the sacred vessels.” To Brigitta she spat, “You will remove stains from the vestments.”

“
Ja
, Mother Superior,” we said.

“You will both work in this room, and you will not act like wild animals. If that means you work in utter silence, so be it. These tasks may take several days to complete, and you will both work together until each task is finished.” She gave each of us a pointed look. “Do I make myself clear?”

I nodded.

“Ja,”
Brigitta said.

“I will be back in one hour to check on your progress.”

“What in the world were you thinking, getting into a scuffle with Brigitta?” Vader asked at supper that night, his fingers clenched around his fork.

“I didn't—”

“I don't understand why the two of you can't overcome your differences.”

“She's the one who—”

Tante Greet interrupted. “The problem is that Brigitta is a young lady, and she tries to act appropriately. Katrien, meanwhile, is refusing to grow up and acts like a small child.”

I banged my fist on the table.

“Katrien!” She glared at me.

Fury coursed through my veins. A small part of me wondered how many times we would have this argument, but I was not about to back down now. I
had
tried to make an effort today, even if it didn't last long.

“If ladies act like Brigitta, then I never want to be a lady. I'd rather stay a child!” I shouted. “At least children can spend time with their friends!”

Vader's voice cut into my tirade like a shark fin slicing through the water. “What do you mean, Katrien?”

I cast a stony gaze in his direction and crossed my arms over my chest. “Slamet,” I spat.

Tante Greet protested, “Katrien, I've explained why—”

But before she could launch into whatever lecture she was planning, Vader held up his hand to silence her. Then he put down his fork and stared at it thoughtfully. A moment later, he spoke. “Perhaps we were too quick to prevent you from seeing Slamet, Katrien. I think it came as too much of a shock.”