Candle in the Attic Window(81)

The Chinese workers sit near their injured brethren and listen to Lien describe the pale man who cared for her wounds. When she describes how she couldn’t focus on his face and make out his features, they start murmuring. She hears the whispered word “demon”.

“Stop being foolish,” Bao chides the men. “We owe a debt of gratitude to this mysterious stranger, not whispered accusations.”

“He saved my life!” Lien confirms.

But when the stranger doesn’t return that evening, the murmurs grow and Lien catches suspicious glances from the other workers. She asks Bao to sleep beside her that night.

“I don’t trust the others,” she confesses.

Bao nods.

“They’re superstitious because this is all so mysterious. We really weren’t expecting to find you alive.”

Something about his guilty expression makes Lien ask, “Exactly how long have we been down here?”

Bao swallows.

“Three days. That fall should have killed you, Li.”

Lien’s stomach churns. She thinks of the stories about demons and ghosts her parents told her as a girl and mutters a quick prayer to the ancestors.

“Can we set up a shrine?” she asks.

“That’s a good idea. The others will be comforted by a shrine, as well. We don’t have incense, but we can make do.” Bao goes to tell the others, and they begin to construct a small, makeshift shrine with the items available in their packs and in the cave. They build it closest to Fa, who clearly needs the most help from the ancestors. Soon, small offerings of dried rations and tea are sitting before a chalk outline of the characters meaning “noble ancestors”.

With Bao’s help, Lien limps to the shrine, where she says a prayer and lays an offering of dried fish. She doesn’t feel different as she returns to her position near the fire, but at least the other workers aren’t glaring at her, anymore. She is able to sleep, though her leg throbs after the movement and wakes her many times during the night.

Once, she wakes and swears she sees movement near the shrine. She sits up and squints to see a figure hovering over Fa. She calls out to the figure, and it turns and disappears into the darkness. Beside her, Bao is deep in slumber, undisturbed by the noise, so Lien assumes that she must be dreaming and lies down again.

The second time, she wakes because something is prodding her broken leg and the pain rouses her. She looks down to see a hulking figure crouched by her leg: Storbridge, barely visible in the dying firelight.

“Stop that!” she cries and tries to pull away from him; she gasps with pain when she tries to move the throbbing limb.

Storbridge turns and regards her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. There is something dark and menacing about him. She doesn’t like the way he looks at her, rather like a cat observing a bird with a broken wing. Lien reaches for Bao, but finds to her horror that his cot is empty.

“Your friend went to answer nature’s call,” Storbridge says, and though she doesn’t understand all the words, Lien comprehends that Bao has stepped away, leaving her unprotected.

“Leave me alone,” she warns him. She’s trying to sound intimidating, but instead, she sounds mewling and womanish.

The huge foreman tilts his head and regards her with increased interest.

“There’s something not right about you,” he says, his voice low, speaking more to himself than to her.

“Go away,” Lien says. She looks about for help; the other Chinese workers are safely in their tent, far from the fire, and Fa remains unconscious beside the shrine.

Was that movement she saw in the shadows behind the shrine?

“Help me!” Lien calls out in English. This time, her voice definitely gives her away; she has dropped all pretense and sounds like the woman she is.

Storbridge looms over her, his eyes fixed and unblinking. With shocking alacrity, he reaches down and tears at the blanket covering her. Lien screams as he rips open her tunic to reveal her chest; she tries to cover her small breasts with her arms, but her lie has been undone, the truth of her sex as obvious as her Chinese heritage.

Storbridge guffaws once, but then his shock turns rapidly to disbelief, as he remembers that Lien is a member of his crew, and then rage as he recalls how quickly and skillfully the Chinese workers blast new tunnels and lay new rails, putting his white workmen to shame. And here, all along, there was a woman hiding among them. Maybe there are others; maybe the little yellow men have made a fool of him all along.

Lien screams as the foreman rushes her with a growl. The fire suddenly dies and engulfs the cavern in blackness.

Lien covers her face, expecting to be beset at any moment, but she remains miraculously unmolested. Slowly, she uncovers her eyes and looks about; she can see nothing in the total darkness, but she can hear the sounds of combat: the smack of fists on flesh and the thud of someone heavy hitting the ground, the soft “oof” of someone being punched in the gut.

Then she hears Bao’s footsteps, unmistakable to her after their months together and her growing infatuation, and she calls out to him, “Bao! Help me!”

Bao rushes over to her, his hands seeking her in the dark. She reaches for him and they embrace clumsily. When the fire suddenly flares to life again, they both look down to see that her bare breasts remain exposed, pressed against his chest, and she quickly pulls the torn tunic closed over them.