67
By the beginning of our second day, I was very worried about Nicole. She claimed she wasn’t ill, but she had a fever. I recalled what we’d been taught at Ardua Hall about caring for the sick, and I attempted to keep her hydrated. There were some lemons on board, and I was able to mix some of their juice with tea and salt and a little sugar. I was finding it easier now to go up and down the ladder that led to our sleeping quarters, and reflected that it would have been much harder in a long skirt.
It was quite foggy. We were still in Gileadean waters, and around noon there was a coast guard inspection. Nicole and I shut the door of our metal box from the inside. She took hold of my hand and I squeezed it hard, and we stayed absolutely quiet. We heard footsteps tramping around, and voices, but the sounds dwindled and my heart stopped beating so quickly.
Later that day there was engine trouble, which I discovered when I went up for more lemon juice. Captain Mishimengo seemed worried: the tides in this region were very high and fast, he said, and without power we’d be swept out to sea, or else we’d be drawn into the Bay of Fundy and wrecked on the Canadian shore, and the ship would be impounded and the crew arrested. The ship was drifting south; did this mean we would be taken right back into Gilead?
I wondered if Captain Mishimengo was wishing he hadn’t agreed to take us. He’d told me that if the ship should be pursued and captured, and we were found, he’d be accused of woman-smuggling. His ship would be seized, and since he himself was originally from Gilead and had escaped from the Gilead National Homelands via the Canadian border, they’d claim him as a citizen and put him on trial as a smuggler, and that would be the end of him.
“We’re putting you in too much danger,” I said when I heard this. “Don’t you have an arrangement with the coast guard? About the grey market?”
“They’d deny it, there’s nothing in writing,” he said. “Who wants to be shot for taking bribes?”
* * *
—
For supper there were chicken sandwiches, but Nicole wasn’t hungry and wanted to sleep.
“Are you very ill? May I feel your forehead?” Her skin was burning hot. “I would just like to say that I’m grateful for you in my life,” I told her. “I’m happy you are my sister.”
“I am too,” she said. After a minute she asked, “Do you think we’ll ever see our mother?”
“I have faith that we will.”
“Do you think she’ll like us?”
“She will love us,” I said to soothe her. “And we will love her.”
“Just because people are related to you doesn’t mean you love them,” she murmured.
“Love is a discipline, like prayer,” I said. “I’d like to pray for you, so you’ll feel better. Would you mind?”
“It won’t work. I won’t feel any better.”
“But I will feel better,” I said. So she said yes.
“Dear God,” I said, “may we accept the past with all its flaws, may we move forward into a better future in forgiveness and loving kindness. And may we each be thankful for our sister, and may we both see our mother again, and our two different fathers as well. And may we remember Aunt Lydia, and may she be forgiven for her sins and faults, as we hope we may be forgiven for ours. And may we always feel gratitude to our sister Becka, wherever she may be. Please bless all of them. Amen.”
By the time I’d finished, Nicole was asleep.
I tried to sleep myself, but it was stuffier than ever in the hold. Then I heard footsteps coming down the metal ladder. It was Captain Mishimengo. “Sorry about this, but we need to offload you,” he said.
“Now?” I said. “But it’s night.”
“Sorry,” Captain Mishimengo said again. “We got the motor going, but we’re low on power. We’re now in Canadian waters but nowhere close to where we were supposed to take you. We can’t get to a harbour, it’s too dangerous for us. The tide is against us.”
He said we were off the east shore of the Bay of Fundy. All Nicole and I had to do was reach that shore and we’d be fine; whereas he couldn’t risk his ship and crew.
Nicole was sound asleep; I had to shake her awake.
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“It’s me,” I said. “It’s your sister.”
Captain Mishimengo repeated the same story to her: we had to leave the Nellie J. Banks right now.
“So, you want us to swim?” said Nicole.