Thirteen Orphans

by Jane Lindskold

  Releasing her embrace, Pearl asked, “Not that I’m not thrilled, but what brings you here?”

  “Brenda’s mother,” Gaheris said, “has been talking to her daughter, and says Brenda has some sort of flu. I juggled my travel schedule, and here I am, ready to soothe an anxious mother’s heart.”

  Pearl motioned for him to follow her inside. “Didn’t Brenda ever get sick when she was away at college?”

  Gaheris gave an embarrassed grin and spread his hands. “I think Keely is having a little trouble loosening the apron strings. It was one thing when Breni was away at school—that’s usual—but Keely wasn’t ready for her one and only daughter to be gone all summer. She’s threatening to adopt a cat or dog or bird—species doesn’t matter as long as the creature isn’t male.”

  Pearl chuckled. “Well, you’ll find your daughter doing much better, I think. She’s upstairs taking care of some paperwork for me. I’ll go get her.”

  “Let me run up and surprise her,” Gaheris suggested, hand on the banister.

  Pearl stopped him with a regal hand on one arm. Actually, Brenda was practicing drawing the nine characters, as these remained her weakest area for forming spells, and Brenda wasn’t far enough recovered that she could actually cast anything.

  Riprap was with her, not precisely keeping her company, but making spell bracelets in polymer clay. The young man had been thoroughly spooked by the damage using freely flowing ch’i could cause. With Gaheris’s memory gone, this “craft activity” would be quite hard to explain.

  “Let me go up,” Pearl insisted. “Brenda is doing better, but she’s still not well. She might be working in her robe or pajamas.”

  Gaheris nodded. “I keep forgetting. Brenda’s not the baby whose diapers I changed. I’ll go wait in the family room.”

  Pearl, who had been listening, and was fairly certain that Gaheris would find the family room empty of anything but Lani’s scattered toys, nodded. She hurried up the stairs.

  Neither Riprap nor Brenda greeted Pearl as she came through the door. Brenda was holding the bamboo handle of the traditional ink brush with greater ease than she had initially, but little flecks of ink on the newspaper she was using to practice on showed that she had yet to master the technique. Riprap was inking in the character for a green dragon in the white clay, his focus intent. Pearl let him finish before speaking, not wanting his ch’i to be wasted.

  “We have a visitor,” Pearl said when two pairs of dark eyes looked up at her inquiringly. “Brenda’s father is here. Brenda, what does Gaheris know about those who constitute our household?”

  “I told him and Mom you’d taken on other summer interns, and that Des Lee was out this way also working with you. I didn’t get too specific about what Des was doing, but I think they figured it has something to do either with your charitable foundation or with acting.”

  “Good,” Pearl said. “Well, come on down and see Gaheris. He arrived just a few minutes ago.”

  Brenda, ink-splatters and all, was already halfway out the door before Pearl finished speaking.

  “But do take it easy,” Pearl said to her retreating back. “You’re still not exactly well.”

  Riprap paused long enough to cover his completed tile with a bit of plastic wrap. The polymer clay would not dry out from exposure to air, but it did accumulate dust.

  “I guess I would seem bad mannered if I didn’t go down to see Mr. Morris,” he said. “But I still feel weird seeing him, knowing what he should know and doesn’t remember.”

  “So do I,” Pearl said, waiting for him to pass her, then closing and locking the schoolroom door behind them. “More than you can imagine.”

  “I’m sure, ma’am,” Riprap said as he followed her down the stairs. “You’ve known him a long time. Where’re Foster and Des?”

  “Out in the yard, I think,” Pearl said. “I’m going to step outside and see.”

  Foster and Des were outside. Des was lounging on the veranda under the grape arbor, and Foster was just visible at the end of one of the curving paths. Lani was invisible except for her giggles.

  Pearl told Des about Gaheris’s arrival.

  “What do we do about Foster?”

  “Out of sight, out of mind?” Pearl suggested. “If Gaheris happens to see Foster, we’ll explain him as a cousin of mine from China.”

  “But doesn’t Gaheris speak Chinese—in his own right, I mean,” Des said, “not just through enchantment?”

  Pearl slapped the tips of her fingers smartly against her forehead. “I’d forgotten. Knowing Gaheris, he won’t be able to resist showing off his fluency. Damn!”

  “Does it matter?” Des asked. “Neither Foster nor Gaheris seem to remember anything important.”

  “Foster’s amnesia is distinctly odd—as is his dialect.”

  “Both could be explained away as a result of a head injury, and the head injury could be the reason for Foster’s coming to visit you.”

  Pearl considered. “Still … I don’t feel comfortable about their meeting. What if whoever is behind this not only stole memories, but planted some sort of ability to use them to spy?”

  Des ran a finger along one edge of his long mustache. “I think that unlikely, but you’re right. This is not the time to be less than cautious. I’ll take Foster inside via the basement. When the coast is clear, invite Gaheris to have his reunion with Brenda here on the veranda. Nissa’s being asleep upstairs is a good reason. Foster can go up to his room.”

  “Good,” Pearl agreed. She headed inside as Des rose and went swiftly down the pathway toward Foster and Lani. She heard Chinese being spoken as she went in and closed the kitchen door behind her. Once in, she took a post by the window, and saw Des escorting Foster toward the basement door. Des held Lani, who was protesting the loss of her playmate.

  “Gaheris,” Pearl said when the coast was clear, “why don’t you all come outside and sit on the veranda. I’m sure Brenda has told you that one of my other interns, Nissa, is still recovering from whatever flu or food poisoning it was that hit Brenda. Des is minding Nissa’s little girl, Lani, outside. Lani’s getting just a little cranky because she thinks she’s missing the fun. Better we don’t bring her in where she’ll disturb her mother.”

  Pearl knew she was talking a little too much, but she had to give Riprap and Brenda some idea of the shape of her plan.

  Riprap said, “Is there anything you need me to get, Pearl?”

  “I wouldn’t mind if you went down to the basement and brought up some of the beer. I’m sure Gaheris wouldn’t mind something stronger than iced tea.”

  “I wouldn’t say no,” Gaheris admitted, “but Riprap doesn’t need to run errands for me. I know where the spare fridge is.”

  “I wouldn’t hear of it,” Riprap said firmly. “I’m on staff. You’re a guest. Why not help your daughter outside? Brenda’s a little more fragile than she likes to admit.”

  Brenda looked cooperatively frail, leaning just a little against the wall. Gaheris gave in with grace.

  “Hard to find myself a guest in a place I once thought of as my second home. Breni, need to lean on the old man’s arm?”

  Brenda grinned at him. “Why not? You were telling me what the boys are up to this summer. Is it true that Dylan broke Mr. Anderson’s window?”

  “With a baseball,” Gaheris admitted with a sigh. “Such a classic summer accident should be celebrated, but Mr. Anderson wasn’t celebrating anything but my signing a heck … .”

  Pearl listened with half her attention as she ushered Gaheris and Brenda outside. The story of Dylan and the baseball faded into greetings, and Gaheris saying, “Now, Des, what’s brought you to San Jose? Brenda’s been cagey about it. Something to do with films?”

  “Costuming …” Des was saying as Pearl heard the basement door, which opened into the kitchen, squeak.

  “Coast’s clear,” Pearl called softly, shutting the door to the outside. “Bring Foster on through.”

  When Riprap emerg
ed, Foster right behind him, Pearl said politely in Chinese, “Foster, we have an unexpected guest. Would you mind going to your room? I will make sure you are sent refreshments.”

  Foster gave her a deep bow, very appropriate from youth to age, student to scholar, captive to captor, but he said nothing. Pearl had noticed that lately Foster rarely addressed her even in Chinese. She wasn’t sure whether this expressed respect, fear, or his own small rebellion.

  Right now, that didn’t matter. She should get outside and make sure everything was under control.

  Under her control.

  Toothless Tiger.

  Brenda was thrilled to see her dad, even if the situation was a little awkward, what with Foster being hidden away upstairs, and her not being able to talk about what she had really been doing since she joined Pearl.

  She almost tripped herself up by mentioning how Pearl had gone to Virginia to pick up Nissa, but caught herself in time. Dad would have wondered why she hadn’t mentioned it earlier, and he would have really wondered what Brenda had been doing in Santa Fe that she hadn’t wanted to mention.

  It was also odd that Mom would have worried so much about Brenda’s being ill. Mom had what Brenda had learned was a pretty typical parental reaction to an oldest child being ill—as long as Brenda was up and moving, Brenda didn’t come in for a lot of smothering attention. The younger kids had needed that, and Brenda had never minded. If she was really sick, then she had all the attention she could use, and that was what was important.

  So why was Mom suddenly having a fit about Brenda catching a summer flu? Mom hadn’t worried that much when another girl on Brenda’s floor in the dorm came down with mono—and mono was a lot more severe and really contagious. But that time, once Mom had made sure Brenda was taking intelligent precautions, that had been the end of fussing. Mom had been more concerned about the trouble Brenda was having with getting a decent grade in advanced German.

  Still, who could understand what motivated a parent?

  Sitting in the shade of the grape arbor, a glass of iced tea in one hand, an almond wafer in the other, Brenda listened to her dad try to convince Des that the theater company Des was advising really needed to buy a selection of bobble-headed mandarins for their gift shop, and felt content. Dad pitching some tacky item was utterly and completely Dad.

  Eventually, Gaheris Morris gave in. “Well, that makes my second ‘no sale’ of this trip. I stopped by Albert Yu’s shop. I’ve gotten a line on the cutest set of containers shaped like Chinese takeout boxes—but in really bright fluorescent colors. The smallest size would be just perfect for one or two of those expensive truffles Albert sells, but he wasn’t having it.”

  “How was Albert?” Pearl asked. She was coming down the short flight of stairs that led from the kitchen door, a glass of iced tea in one hand, a tray of beer glasses balanced on the other. Riprap was behind her holding a cardboard six-pack of long-necked beer bottles, and a bowl of chips and salsa.

  “Albert seemed in a very good mood,” Gaheris replied. “He invited me into his office, and treated me to tea. When he heard Brenda was ill, he sent her a little gift.”

  He bent down and opened his briefcase, extracting a small lozenge box painted with pink peonies. The blossoms spilled over the top and onto the sides.

  “This is some sort of exotic and high-priced mint,” Gaheris explained, “blended with concentrated extract of green tea. It’s supposed to be good for both the blood and digestion.”

  He pulled another box out of his briefcase and handed that to Pearl. “This is apparently a selection of your favorite chocolates.”

  Gaheris looked momentarily puzzled. “I don’t recall Albert being so generous before. He was in a good mood, too. I wonder if he has fallen in love.”

  “Anything is possible,” Pearl said mildly, setting the box to one side. “I think I’ll put the chocolates by for when the girls are better. In any case, they’d be wasted with beer.”

  Brenda felt a little wistful. Her own Yu chocolates were but a delicious memory now, but she had to admit that her stomach roiled a little at the thought of trying to deal with something so rich and so dense. She had no problem turning down a beer when offered one. Instead, she nibbled an almond wafer and tried to be glad that her system would let her eat something other than yogurt.

  “Maybe business is just good,” Des suggested. “Albert’s shop is quite trendy these days. I saw it mentioned in a couple of high-end magazines as the place to get good chocolate. There were rumors he’s branching out into teas as well.”

  “He is,” Gaheris said. “He mentioned something about how tea is going to be the new coffee. I’m not sure that Albert isn’t right. Maybe I should offer him the bobblehead mandarins. He might be able to use them in a holiday promotion. Wasn’t one of the villains in the Nutcracker a mandarin doll that nodded?”

  “I think that was in ‘The Steadfast Tin Soldier,’” Brenda said, “and the mandarin wasn’t really a villain there. I think the villain was the jack-in-the-box.”

  “Oh.” Gaheris looked momentarily disappointed, but Riprap offered him a beer, and the question of selling Albert Yu mandarin bobble heads was forgotten in the pleasure of discussing local micro breweries.

  Albert Yu’s not the only one who has mellowed, Brenda thought. Dad seems to have lost that … bitterness? Sense of rivalry? Whatever it was that made him so uncomfortable with Albert. Pearl said they’d been rivals as boys. I guess Dad didn’t like how Albert assumed that being the emperor’s heir made him more important. Now that the emperor has been forgotten with the rest, I wonder if they’re both not happier.

  It was an uncomfortable thought. Up until now, Brenda had been focused on getting back for her father what had been stolen from him, but what if Gaheris Morris was happier without his memories of the Rat? Brenda wasn’t certain that she wouldn’t be happier without what she’d learned. Since she’d inadvertently drawn down the Three-Legged Toad, the universe had seemed fragile, as if made of cheesecloth or tissue or something else that gave the illusion of solidity but was too easily poked full of holes.

  Dad stayed for dinner, which was served out on the patio out of deference to Nissa’s need for quiet.

  He succeeded in charming Lani, whom he claimed to have met when she was an infant, when he was out in Virginia doing a deal on key chains printed with the UVA logo as an alumni athletic club tie-in promotion. Of course, Dad had forgotten that he’d ever had a more personal reason for wanting to know Nissa’s family.

  “But you’ve got the wrong sort of name,” Dad insisted, as an enchanted Lani sat on his knee, snapping her finger under the chin of a bobble-headed penguin figurine he’d given her. “You can’t be Nissa’s daughter. All the girls in her family have ‘N’ names—or are you a little boy?”

  Lani was appalled. “I’m a girl! An I do have a ‘n.’”

  “Lani doesn’t begin with ‘n,’” Dad insisted, being deliberately obtuse.

  “Noelani!” Lani insisted. “My name is Noelani.”

  “No-lani. I got that,” Dad said. “Your name is not Lani. All right, what is it?”

  Brenda thought Dad was pushing the kid a bit hard, but evidently Lani had heard similar teasing before.

  “My name is Noelani,” Lani repeated, not only showing excellent patience with this stupid adult, but also demonstrating the best diction Brenda had seen from her so far. “Noelani begins with ‘n.’ It’s Hawaiian for something …”

  She looked inquiringly at Brenda. “I can’t say it.”

  “Beautiful one from the sea,” Brenda said, who had asked Nissa about the odd name. “It’s a pretty name, and my dad is being difficult.”

  “Am I?” Gaheris grinned. “Then maybe Noelani, who does have an ’n’ in her name after all, needs someone to keep Mr. Penguin company. Would you like a Mrs. Penguin?”

  Lani was delighted with the set, and settled in to feeding them bits of hotdog and loose grapes. Brenda and Riprap took turns making sure that Lani h
erself got a few bites.

  Later, as Brenda took Lani up for her bath and bed, she heard Pearl apologize that she didn’t have a spare room. Dad didn’t try and press for a space on the sofa. Brenda would have worried that in losing his memories of the Rat he’d lost his legendary sense of economy—or cheapness, as her mother had been known to call it—but then Dad mentioned he had a meeting at his hotel early the next morning with a manufacturer from China.

  “It’s great you taught me how to speak the language, Auntie Pearl,” he said, kissing her cheek in parting. “With China entering the world economy in a big way, I have a huge advantage. You really ought to see about getting your movies released there. I bet you’d outsell your old rival.”

  “Never a rival,” Pearl said, her smile audible. “Shirley had me beat all the way—and I liked working with her. Still, I’ll talk to my agent and see if anything can be done.”

  With Mr. and Mrs. Penguin nodding approval from the dresser top, Lani was the soul of cooperation when it came time for her to go to bed. Brenda came down in time to visit a bit more with her dad before he had to leave.

  “You get some sleep, Breni,” Dad said, hugging her. “I’ll tell your mom she worries too much, but don’t let her know I said that, okay? She’s so proud of how well you two get along, she’d be annoyed that I let on that she still worries about her little girl.”

  “Promise,” Brenda said, hugging him back, but as she went up to bed shortly thereafter she found herself wondering. Had Mom really been the one who was worried, or had it maybe been Dad?

  Dad. It made a lot more sense if it was Dad.

  She wondered why the realization made her so nervous, and pulled the sheet right up to her chin, then, on impulse, up and over her head.

  The day after Gaheris’s visit, Pearl waited until Des was busy with Brenda and Riprap, and Nissa and Lani were napping. Then she climbed the stairs to the third floor, where the men had their rooms. The time had come for her to talk to Foster—and to address the questions of his freedom and his ability to communicate.