Dreams of the Red Phoenix Read Online Free

troubles, but Shirley knew better, because now that Caleb was gone, she felt similarly worn out with the whole mess.
    â€œI’m so sorry to have abandoned you these past weeks, my love,” Shirley said as she bent to kiss her friend on both cheeks. “Let’s make a pact. We’ll take tea with one another every after noon until it’s time for us to depart. We can start tomorrow. We’ll review the latest news and make our plans. There’s much to be discussed. As our professors used to say at Vassar when the bell rang, ‘Ever more learning tomorrow, fine ladies!’”
    â€œYes, ever more learning. I remember it well. Now, get some rest. Your eyes do look awfully puffy.”
    As at so many partings since girlhood, the friends let go with outstretched fingers. But at just that moment, from around the corner came two young Japanese soldiers with an officer march ing a few paces behind. The men halted before the moon gate in front of the Carson home. The two younger men looked identi cal, their khaki uniforms the same and their blank expressions in the shadowed light unchanging, until Shirley realized that the one on the right was the young fellow who had swept her back steps. She offered a nod, but his expression remained unchanged. The officer stepped forward through the gate, snapped his heels together, and bowed quickly.
    â€œGood evening, American madams,” he began in stilted En glish. “I am Major Hattori, Fifth Division, Japanese Imperial Army. Does American mother know whereabouts of boy with red hair?”
    Kathryn retreated up the steps and stood next to Shirley.
    â€œIs everything all right?” Shirley asked. “He isn’t hurt, is he? I assume he’s somewhere around the compound, but honestly, I’m not sure where exactly.”
    â€œAmerican mother does not know whereabouts of son. Very bad. I have reports American boy is rude and should be pun ished.”
    â€œOh, thank goodness,” Shirley said. “I thought he might be injured.”
    â€œFrom high on wall, American boy spits on Japanese soldier.”
    â€œGood Lord,” Kathryn said under her breath.
    Shirley raised her chin. “Why, that’s terrible, Major. I’m aw fully sorry. I will speak with him. But you must realize that boys will be boys.”
    Kathryn squeezed her hand.
    â€œAmerican boy learn bad manners at home. But bad boy not reason for visit. I come to confiscate your two-way radio.”
    â€œMy what?” Shirley asked.
    Kathryn whispered something she didn’t catch.
    â€œWe believe radio in house used by Red Army. We intercept signal. American missionary woman is spy!” He raised both his voice and his eyebrows with his pronouncement.
    Shirley burst out laughing. She pulled her hand free and ig nored Kathryn’s worried expression. Her friend quickly regained her arm, but Shirley straightened her spine and thrust out her chin. At five feet eleven inches, she would have been noticeably taller than Major Hattori had they stood nose to nose. Looking down at him from the porch she felt had an even better effect.
    â€œEveryone knows that radios get terrible reception here,” she said. “No signals can make it over the surrounding hills. My husband tried to find my beloved opera on the dial but gave up years ago. And perhaps you did not know this, Major, but he is no longer with us. Our house is in mourning, so I will ask you to respect our peace.”
    Shirley’s mind drifted for a brief moment into the chasm left by Caleb’s death. A familiar wafting loneliness sucked her down ward. It swirled and engulfed her in its chilly calm. Her arms went limp at her sides, and she had to work to keep her knees from buckling. But instead of leaving her completely floored, as it usually did, she could feel the sorrow somehow bolstering her courage and helping her to rise back up again. It was as if the undertow was buoying her,