Torn Asunder Read online

  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.

  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.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jai-Bong threw his hat on the driver’s seat and dropped his coat down next to it. He strode up to the old man’s door, which opened before he could knock. Mr. Tong’s leathery face crinkled into a hundred wrinkled tributaries. “I heard your van as you pulled in. You are most welcome, Brother.” He swung the door open wide. “Your visits are always most refreshing to me.”

  Jai-Bong returned the blind man’s bow and followed him into the house, where he frowned at the obligatory portrait of the Dear Leader. “You are doing well?” he asked.

  “Quite.” Mr. Tong clasped Jai-Bong by his hands. “But I’m sorry, Brother. I only have plain tea to offer. I just gave a friend the rest of your ginseng this morning.”

  “No matter.” Jai-Bong reached into his pocket and pulled out a small root. “You know I never come empty-handed.”

  He took the gift in his shaking hands. “The Lord always provides for us, no?” His head bobbled back and forth as he ambled to the counter.

  Jai-Bong took a chair and stretched out his legs. “So you had visitors today?”

  “Just one.” Mr. Tong faced Jai-Bong. “And now two. The Lord has blessed me.”

  “Indeed.” Jai-Bong studied the room. Two small sacks rested on the table. Nothing else had changed since his last visit.

  Mr. Tong placed the kettle on the stove. “My first visitor brought me the greatest of gifts.”

  Jai-Bong leaned forward. “Did he, now? How providential. Bibles, then?” Jai-Bong squinted and studied the room once more.

  “She was young. With the voice of the angels.”

  Jai-Bong frowned. “She?”

  “Oh, yes.” Mr. Tong reached for a knife.

  Jai-Bong stood up to help.

  “I thought she must have someone else with her. For safety, no? But she said she was quite by herself.”

  “Really?” Jai-Bong fingered his ring. “What was her name?”

  “She was young. Not older than my beloved when we married.” While the tea steeped, Mr. Tong prattled on, telling Jai-Bong about the Bibles he would deliver to the people in his village. “I wish I were vigorous enough to travel the entire province like before.” The old man hung his head. “But at least some young ones now carry the work on for us, no?”

  “It would be dangerous for a man in your condition to hike around North Hamyong with Bibles in your pockets.”

  “I know, Brother. I know. But I still would if I had the strength, understand. But the good Lord must know what he’s doing. He allows me to serve him here, and he sends me company like you and ...”

  “Me and who?” Jai-Bong leaned forward.

  Mr. Tong paused until the gyrations in his torso slowed down a little. “She couldn’t tell me. It’s a shame, really. Most likely I’ll never learn her true name until we meet in heaven.”

  Jai-Bong fingered his badge. “Yes. A shame.” His head was racing with information, but the blind man kept prattling. When the tea was ready, they sat and drank, and Mr. Tong spilled more than he sipped. Jai-Bong waited as long as cultural etiquette demanded and then cleared his throat. “I fear it’s time I should be going.”

  “Won’t you sing a hymn with me first?” Mr. Tong clutched Jai-Bong’s wrist.

  Jai-Bong frowned and looked out at his van. “You know that would be dangerous.”

  “A prayer, then. Stay a moment, and I will pray over you, no?”

  Jai-Bong scowled out the window. It would be dark by the time he got back to work. “Of course.” He stooped his head.

  “Our most gracious heavenly Father ...”

  Jai-Bong stood up straight, his eyes opened wide, while the old man prayed. A girl. Delivering Bibles.

  “How I praise you for my brother, who comes to refuel my weary spirit and blesses me with his fellowship.”

  Young. Traveling alone.

  “I ask your protection and grace to go before him. Strengthen him for the work you’ve called him to. Encourage him for the tasks ahead of him.”

  Probably fresh from across the border. From that Secret Seminary in Yanji, maybe?

  “Keep him safe from those who would try to harm him. Protect him from the eyes of the National Security Agency and the neighbors who might turn him in.”

  Who had sent her? And was she really by herself?

  “Most of all, bless him with the presence of your Holy Spirit and sustain him until the day North Korea embraces the gospel or until you call him home.”

  Jai-Bong didn’t linger. After a hasty “Amen,” a few exchanged bows, and a promise to visit again soon, Jai-Bong shut the cabin door behind him. Safe in his van, the National Security agent punched a button on his handheld radio.

  “This is General Sin. I’m coming in right now.”

  ***

  They had spent a year of their lives together at the Secret Seminary, but this was the first time Simon saw Hannah cry. He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her face into his chest. “You scared me so much.”

  “I’m sorry. I ... I didn’t really want you to find me. Not yet.” Could she hear how fast his heart was racing?

  “I am so glad to see you,” she breathed.

  “You have no idea how thankful I am to hear you say that.”

  She wiped her cheek. “What do you mean?”

  “For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you break one rule. Not one.” He pulled away. If he held her for even a minute longer, he would never find the strength to let her go again. He let his fingers brush against hers for a brief moment before dropping his hands to his sides. “You’ll probably hate me for this, but I’ve been following you.” She didn’t say anything. Was she angry? He hurried to clarify. “It just didn’t seem right, sending you out all alone. No one to look out for you. I know the Sterns said it was safer to travel separately, but, well, you’re so young. And if anything happened to you, and I wasn’t there to protect you ...”

  She raised her eyes to meet his. “I understand.” His throat burned. He reached for her hand, and this time her fingers intertwined with his.

  He shifted his weight. “It just didn’t seem right, walking away from you, always wondering what happened to you. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle not knowing.”

  “Me, either.”

  He heard the tremor in her voice but resisted the urge to take her in his arms again. They had work to do. “I wasn’t planning to scare you like that. I was hoping you wouldn’t even notice me. Then, when I saw what you were about to do with that list ...” Simon laughed. “Did Mr. Stern teach that to you one day when I was sleeping in?”

  Her expression was enough to cut off his chuckle. “How long were you going to keep following me?”

  Simon stared at her bare toes. “Until I knew you were taken care of, I guess. And I thought you might need some more granola bars.” She scrunched up her face, so he explained. “I saw you give your food away to those kids at the bus station, and I ... well, honestly, I was ashamed. I wouldn’t have even thought of that. And then it made me even more worried for you. I mean, here you are less than a day into ministry, and you’ve already given away your shoes and all your food.” Her face fell. He placed both hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Like I said, it made me ashamed of myself. But it also made me want to look out for you. Make sure you had everything you’d need.”

  “So those extra granola bars were from you?”

  There wasn’t any righteous way to deny it. “I put them in your backpack when you were making your first delivery.”

  “You’ve been with me this whole time?”

  “From a distance, mostly. Sometimes closer than others.”

  “I thought I heard something last night.”

  “I never meant to scare you.”

  “What about your own assignment?”

  He stared at a point just past her ear. “I’ll still finish it. Soon.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Thank you for being with me. I was really hoping that ... I mean, I really needed some extra courage.”

  “So you’re not upset?” Simon held his breath, studying every muscle, every pore, every blemish on her upturned face.

  She smiled softly. “Even Jesus told the disciples to go out two by two, didn’t he?”

  He picked up her backpack and hefted it over his shoulder. In response to some silent agreement, they both set off at the same time, with Hannah ever so slightly in the front to lead the way to her next delivery.

  ***

  She was panting by the time they stopped at dusk. Simon lowered their backpacks and sat down near a grove of trees. “You get some rest,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”