Two Testaments (30 page)

Gabriella did not know how she felt as she stepped out of the parsonage after her last exam. A few more days and the program would be officially over. She heard a small voice in her head.
Now is when the adventure begins.

She winced involuntarily. What adventure? All the nights spent wrestling and praying over the decision had been for naught if Mother Griolet was right. No more exchange program. No more orphanage. She swallowed hard.

Little Castelnau. The town had welcomed her, delighted her, instructed her patiently in the ways of the Midi. She took one of the tiny side streets that led away from the church. This was perhaps her favorite part of town, crammed with small stone houses that were joined together and hidden behind the main roads and could only be reached on foot through the narrow alleyways.

Vines were clinging to the stone walls where palm trees poked their long-leafed heads over the top. Potted geraniums and petunias decorated every ancient windowsill. An old woman sat in front of her house on a tiny cement veranda, the vines above her making a living canopy to shade her from the strong June heat. A parakeet sang to her from its cage. A few white T-shirts hung from the upstairs window.

Gabriella followed the twisting passage, climbing up and down its wide steps. Every corner held a new surprise: a jubilant daisy bush, bright white with its green shoots pointing in every direction; a low-tiled wall that gave a view into the town below; a rounded little alcove with a stone bench hidden inside.
I’ll have to bring David here
when he gets back
, she thought.

She sat down on the bench and took his latest letter out of her book satchel. She had already practically memorized it. They would leave by July 2, he had said. Thirteen more days. That wasn’t too long to wait.

But what was she waiting for? A job in an orphanage that might be closed down, and a man who had promised her nothing. Did he even consider the possibility that she might not be here when he got back? Had the thought even entered his head?

He sounded so angry, so despairing. The biting tone that had put her off so many months ago had found its way into his letter. She understood, or at least she tried to. Trust. What a huge word for its single syllable. How did you trust when the whole world was exploding in front of you?

The sun felt so soothing on Gabriella’s face. Castelnau was oceans away from the war, and yet she did not feel peaceful. She closed her eyes. She had made the hardest decision of her life. She had agreed to stay in this tiny town, to take over an orphanage. She had decided without consulting David, in faith that her God would work out the details. She thought that it would be easy after the decision had been made. No, not easy. Clear. But Gabriella could not see anything at all.

Suddenly she sat up straight. Maybe God
was
making things clear. Originally she had planned to travel around Europe with her family during the month of August and then go with them to the States, where they would spend a year’s furlough. She was already enrolled in a college there. Maybe she was supposed to do just that.

Those plans seemed centuries old now. Or maybe, maybe her life in Castelnau was the dream. Was she really considering giving up travel and a year in the States for this? For an aging nun and a cocky Ivy League grad? It sounded crazy when she thought about it. Maybe God was rescuing her from wasting her life in a lost little village in France. She had tried to reason it out, and she had been wrong. The answer was no. Now she must simply get on with her life.

She reread the letter that had come this morning from her mother, saying that the whole family would arrive in less than a month and asking if she could find a place for them to stay. Gabriella groaned inwardly. She didn’t even know where to look. The knot in her stomach returned.

She would ask her landlady. Mme Leclerc would have an idea.

Gabriella left the bench and walked down the steps that let her out onto the main cobbled road of the town. The fountain sprayed beside her. Across the street, a small island of velvet green grass harbored some bright pansies and two tall cedars.

“But I love this town,” she whispered to herself. “I could live here for a long time and be happy.”

It thrilled her to walk on the cobblestones and touch the fruit displayed in a worn cart outside the épicerie, to contemplate bunches of purple grapes that had been painted on the stone wall by the liquor store. A hair salon was next, tucked inside an ancient vaulted room. She passed Pierre’s boulangerie and smiled at the graying baker. She wanted to walk past these stores every day for a long, long time. She couldn’t explain it. She just knew. She belonged in Castelnau.

She had made a wide circle through town and now came back to St. Joseph.

Anne-Marie stepped out of the chapel. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you.
Félicitations!
”

“Congrats for what?” Gabriella asked, surprised.

“For finishing your last exam. Don’t you feel relieved?”

“Oh, that.” Her voice fell flat.

“You mean it doesn’t matter?”

“I don’t know.”

Anne-Marie fell into step with Gabriella, and they walked on through the town to where the road became paved.

“I guess I should feel relieved, but I only feel confused.”

“About David?” Anne-Marie asked gently.

“David and everything else. I told you Mother Griolet had asked me to stay on at the orphanage—to be trained to take her place?”

“
Oui.
I remember.”

“Well, it looks like the orphanage is going to be closed.”

“Non! Ce n’est pas possible!”

“That’s what Mother Griolet thinks. Everything shut down. And I had just told her I’d stay. Doesn’t make sense, does it?”

Anne-Marie shrugged. “I don’t think much in life makes sense. It doesn’t seem like much of a tapestry to me.”

They walked past the stately homes of Castelnau, which stood proud and private behind thick walls and high, neatly trimmed hedges. Farther out on their walk, some poppies tossed their heads beside the road.

“A tapestry always appears confused and tangled if you look at the back. I have a feeling that’s all I’m seeing right now.” Gabriella stopped to pick a poppy. “But surely God knows what He’s doing, even if I don’t.”

“You’re struggling with your God,
n’est-ce pas
? I wonder, does that happen often? And if it does, who wins?”

Gabriella chuckled. “That’s a very good question, Anne-Marie. You have a way of seeing things, you know?” She bent over and pulled a few more tenacious poppies up by their roots. “Yes, I guess I struggle with Him a lot. I don’t know who is going to win this time.”

She pointed to her left, where the fields and vineyards opened out below them. “Could anything be more beautiful than that? An ancient countryside with stuccoed houses and vineyards and tall cypress and little flocks of sheep and goats.” She looked down at her watch. “Oh my! We’ve got to get back for the orphans!”

They turned around and headed back into town.

“I still have a question,” Anne-Marie remarked. “Do you mean that your God is not strong enough to convince you that His way is best?”

“God doesn’t work that way. How can I explain it? He gives us a choice, never forces us. And His Spirit guides us. If we listen.”

“But you have tried to listen, and you are not sure. Now what do you do?”

Gabriella turned to her friend, admiring both her dark, natural beauty and her honest questions. “You wait. That is the hardest part. You just wait.”

The letter from Rémi helped to soothe Eliane’s frazzled nerves. He wrote that as soon as he arrived in Marseille he would try to locate the lost trunk. He said he missed her. And he explained that some other harki children would be arriving within the next two weeks.

“Great. More harkis,” she grumbled. Then she felt ashamed. Poor people. Slaughtered in Algeria.

At the end of the letter Rémi gave the slightest hint that he would be coming to France soon. Was she reading it into the letter? No. It was there.

I have done all I can do here. Time is running out.

If she held on a few more weeks, then surely Rémi would be here and maybe she would stop feeling as though her life had been put on hold.

“Come on, children! Time to go. The bus will be here in five minutes.”

She placed José on one hip and locked the hotel door, letting Samuel and Rachel go in front. The bus stop was just across the street. For their first visit to Anne-Marie at the orphanage in Castelnau, she didn’t want to be late. She only hoped she didn’t see that harki boy. She might just give him a piece of her mind.

Today had been the last day of the exchange program. Tonight the young ladies, Mother Griolet, M. Vidal, and the Sisters were celebrating with dinner at a restaurant in Montpellier.

Anne-Marie was relieved that she and Eliane had been left to watch the children. With all the clamor of the kids, plus keeping an eye on baby José, Eliane had not had time to ask her any questions. Anne-Marie did not want her to know how afraid she was.

But once the children were settled in their dormitories for the night, including Rachel and Samuel, Eliane took Anne-Marie’s arm. “We could take a little walk here in the courtyard, if you want. I’ll just put José in the stroller.”

Reluctantly Anne-Marie agreed. They walked slowly around the silent, empty courtyard.

“Something is wrong, isn’t it?” Eliane probed.

Anne-Marie nodded. “I didn’t want to mention it, but … it’s the new boy. He didn’t bring any news of Moustafa. I think it’s strange.”

“He’s a selfish little tramp,” Eliane said. “I’m sorry he’s had a rough life, but he could at least have had the decency to bring me my trunk. After all, it did carry him to freedom. Hmph. I’m sorry about your father’s will.”

Anne-Marie shrugged. “I’m afraid, Eliane. Gabriella has said that the orphanage may be closed soon. I have nothing. Not one centime. What will happen to Ophélie and me if Moustafa doesn’t come back?”

Eliane took her friend’s hand and placed it on the buggy handle, with hers on top. “It’s hard, isn’t it? I’m afraid too. It feels like my life has stopped. We’ve gone from one hostile environment to another. Not the terror of war, but the prejudice of racism.”

“You talked about a new beginning, Eliane. Do you still believe it?”

The cheerful young mother with the ready smile suddenly looked pensive. “I do believe it.” She measured her words. “But it isn’t going to be easy. I’m trusting God to show us. It is awfully hard to wait, though.”

“You sound like Gabriella. She said that was the hardest part, the waiting. But at least you believe Someone is there to answer. I have no one to call on.”

“Do you want to have Someone?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you want God to be your God, He’s there, waiting. Membership is not reserved for some elite group. It’s open to everyone who truly believes.”

Anne-Marie felt uncomfortable. “I hope you won’t take this wrong, but I’m just not convinced. It seems so easy for you, for Gabriella, for Mother Griolet and the Sisters. But you all grew up believing. I did not. Papa didn’t start attending church until he was over forty.”