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.
6 JULY 1883
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
Chapter 17
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.” S
he 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.”
Chapter 18
“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.”
“Niels,” Tante Greet began.
Vader shook his head and held up his hand once more. It was so quiet that I could hear the grandfather clock ticking in the hall. “I suggest a compromise,” he said at last.
I loosened my arms, relaxing a bit. “I’m listening.”
“I will talk with Indah about her concerns. If I can get her to agree, Slamet will be free to visit here as much as he ever did, and you may socialize with one another once more.”
A bubble of hope rose within me, and I clutched my hands together in my lap as if in prayer.
He continued. “But in no way should you interpret my generosity as a condonation of your actions today. You will still be punished, and I will address your punishment in a moment. For now, the terms of this compromise are as follows: You may renew your friendship with Slamet, and in return, you must agree to perform one household task a week for Greet, in addition to the assistance you have recently begun providing her. The task will be one of her choosing.” He glanced at my aunt. “Does that sound reasonable?”
She pursed her lips. “I would prefer that Katrien agree to acquire a new skill. There are so many she ought to know that she has refused to learn.”
New skills? She must be mad. She would have me needlepointing useless sayings on pillow covers in no time. I was certain Vader would take my side, but instead he smiled.
“That will be fine.”
“What?” I could not hide the betrayal I felt.
He shot a sharp look across the table at me. “Katrien, you must also face your punishment. From now on, you will only be permitted to go to the jungle once a week.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“I assure you, I am.” He arched his eyebrows. “You may renew your friendship with Slamet and in return you will agree to lessons from your aunt. Unless you would prefer to spend time with Brigitta at the convent. Either way, your punishment stands. Your time in the jungle is now limited to once a week.”
“But that isn’t fair!” I cried.
“On the contrary,” he said, “your behavior toward Brigitta this afternoon was rude, pretentious and boorish. And for that you are being disciplined.”
I wanted to run far away. Into the jungle. Perhaps where Slamet was living with his brother.
Oh, Slamet.
If I agreed to this rotten compromise, I could see my friend again. I was certain Vader would be able to convince Indah. After all, she worked for us. But having lessons with Tante Greet? Only being able to explore the jungle once a week?
Furious at Vader for the injustice of his terms, and at Tante Greet for making everything worse, I nodded reluctantly. What else could I do? At least this way, I didn’t have to spend any more forced time in Brigitta’s presence.
“Good.” Vader returned to his meal. “I will speak with Indah tomorrow, and we will start this new phase on Monday.”
That gave me three whole days to sulk.
12 JULY 1883
My dear Oom Maarten,
I’ve been punished again for fighting with Brigitta. She is the bane of my existence.
Beginning Monday, I can only go to the jungle once a week. And I have to start learning new skills from Tante Greet, as well. She’s already chosen cooking for the first lesson.
Can I come live with you? You would never force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. I could take Torben for walks in the park every day—even twice a day. Though I would miss the jungle.
My last visit was cut short. A Javan rhinoceros rumbled across my path. He was the same height as me, and I know I’m lucky he didn’t charge me. Thankfully, he was too busy marking his territory. The smell almost made me retch. It was so strong and vile. The rhino lumbered off into the undergrowth, completely ignoring me. Unfortunately, he took the same path I was following. I had no choice but to turn around and come home.
That was yet another unproductive visit to the forest. My last five explorations have been fruitless. I haven’t found any stag beetles!
Desperately yours,
Katrien
Chapter 19
Three weeks later, Tante Greet stood in my room, staring at my collection of beetles while I hurried to get dressed. The cases covered an entire wall and a good part of another.
“How do you sleep at night with these monstrous bugs hanging on the wall?” she asked.
“Insects,” I corrected her.
She raised her eyebrows at my impertinence.
I decided to change the subject. “Slamet told me yesterday that he’s going to bring food to some friends of his this morning, and I’m going with him.”
Tante Greet drew her lips into a tight line, and she made her disapproving click.
“He’s bringing food to people! It’s charity! Don’t you want me to help those less fortunate?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and I could see a struggle cross her features. “I suppose this is why we relented,” she muttered. She retrieved my hat from its hook and handed it to me. “Please don’t make a spectacle of yourself, and be polite to these people.”
“I will.”
“And be back here by midday.”
I waved at her and hurried to find Slamet.
He stood in the side yard, hugging a basket close to his chest. He looked tense, but I ignored that.
“Let’s go,” I said, leading the way around the front of the house.
We hadn’t gotten far before I saw Brigitta standing by the Ousterhoudts’ porch, talking to Mr. Ousterhoudt. I stopped short, and Slamet bumped into me.
“Apologies, Slamet.” I pointed to Brigitta. “I don’t want her to see me.”
He nodded and we slowly backed away. Remembering Oom Maarten’s latest letter—Obviously, you did not follow my advice!—I placed my hand over my nose and mouth.
“They are hibiscus flowers,” I heard Mr. Ousterhoudt saying to Brigitta.
“Would it be possible to obtain a cutting?” she asked, moving to a bright orange bloom. “Perhaps two?”
Slamet and I made our way over to the Great Post Road, which began in Anjer and ended in Panarukan on the other side of Java. I didn’t often travel on the road except for the few times my family went to visit the controller of Merak, the to
wn north of Anjer. Although the road went through Batavia, we traveled by ship to the capital.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To mosque.”
I stopped. “I thought we were going to visit friends of yours.” The mosque was a kilometer north of Anjer along the coast.
“Friends live near mosque.”
“Oh.” We walked on down the road, and I offered to carry the basket. “Do you know them from the mosque?”
He gave me a quizzical look, and I could tell he didn’t understand my question. I tried again. “How do you know them? Your friends?”
“They are from same village as Ibu.”
I nodded, and we fell into silence. It had been a long time since I had spent any substantial time with Slamet. Normally, I could be in his company without saying anything and be perfectly content. But an awkwardness descended on me while we walked. My tongue seemed to grow in my mouth, banging into the back of my teeth. The silence between us stretched. If we didn’t begin a conversation soon, I wasn’t sure we ever would.
“What was it like? Living in the jungle with your brother?”
“Good. I learn much.”
“Such as?”
He watched a wagon coming down the road. The driver whipped his horses to make them go even faster. Slamet shook his head.
When he still didn’t answer me, I bumped his shoulder. “What are you learning?”
“Arabic. The Qu’ran.”
I frowned. If that was all his brother was teaching him, then why did he have to go off into the jungle to learn it? “Vader could have taught you that. He doesn’t speak Arabic, but you and he could have learned together.”
“Better to learn from teacher.”
“That’s what I mean. Vader could have found one. You could both learn Arabic.”
He didn’t say anything.
“How does Raharjo even know Arabic?” I wondered. “He’s not in school.”
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