“She has a pair of big, dark eyes, so gentle and kind. What a delightful little creature.”
“Ah?” Khanyi looked up at him, seeing him smile at her. His words didn’t seem like mere praise for a little dog.
Evelyn suddenly burst in, first glancing at the handsome captain sitting in the chair, then turning her gaze to Khanyi. “Gianna, we should go.”
“Let me see you off,” Marcus stood up from his chair.
“No, no, it’s fine, the car is waiting for me outside…” Khanyi declined his kindness again. “Thank you.” “Then I can only hope to see you again,” he stood in place, not insisting on escorting her home.
Evelyn took one arm with a basket in one hand and pulled her toward the shop door. Khanyi turned back to glance at him; the handsome man still smiled at her with his eyes.
Marcus sat back down in his chair, his lake-blue eyes watching the two girls hurriedly exit and climb into a black car, where a driver in gray civilian clothes quickly started the engine. This luxurious black Mercedes didn’t have military plates. He raised his head and finished the coffee in his cup.
He was off on a business trip again, but this time he had been very clear with her about his whereabouts before leaving, even giving her an exact time when he would return next weekend. He was going to a southern city to prepare for a meeting scheduled for September.
“The world is so ironic; I just arrived in the capital, and he is leaving again.” Khanyi leaned back in her lounge chair, fiddling with a bouquet of roses submerged in a glass vase, freshly cut and still budding.
“A little separation is sweeter than a newlywed’s bliss; you must believe that,” Evelyn smiled at her while busy changing the bed linens.
“Evelyn, is your mother feeling any better?”
“God bless, thanks to you and the sir’s care. Because of that special permit, we managed to get some restricted effective medicine, along with the treatment costs and weekly leave.” Evelyn’s brown eyes were filled with gratitude.
“That’s wonderful. We have a saying in South Africa: good people will surely be rewarded!”
“Just as you said, Miss Gianna, good people will be rewarded, and I believe God is watching over each of us from above.”
Khanyi followed Evelyn’s gaze to the night sky. Unlike the hustle and bustle of the city, the night here was quiet. There were few boats passing on the Javier River, only a few stars twinkling in the dark sky, accompanied by a bright full moon. Khanyi took a few steps, clasped her hands together, and leaned her upper body on the half-moon-shaped marble windowsill. She didn’t believe in Christianity and wasn’t sure if there really were gods and angels in this world. She remembered the stories her mother told her sisters at home, about a cassia tree on the moon and a palace in the moon where the goddess lived.
“The bright moon shines before my bed, I suspect it’s frost on the ground. I raise my head to gaze at the bright moon, and lower it to think of my hometown.” This was a poem she had memorized since childhood, easy to recite, but reciting it as a traveler brought a different bittersweet flavor. Half a year had passed since she bid farewell to her life at the art school; it was time to send a message of safety to her family.
“Evelyn, could you do me a favor?” She looked at the waiting maid. “Tomorrow is the weekend. When you go home to take care of your mother, could you stop by the telegraph office and help me send a telegram?”
“Of course,” Evelyn immediately nodded in agreement. “Who do you want to send it to?”
“It’s to my friend in America. Here’s the address and the message.” She took out a small notebook from the second drawer of the cabinet, flipped through a few pages, and pulled out a slip of paper.
Evelyn took it, reading it over. “But this is a family letter. Why send it to a friend?”
“My parents don’t know I’ve left America,” Khanyi said lightly, though her mood grew heavy. If all went well, Brother Victor should have returned home by now, reporting her safety to their father and mother. Yet she still deceived her family, saying she was continuing her studies at university in America. Her mother would naturally be saddened by their inability to meet, and her father would surely be pleased, thinking she had great ambitions. If she had become a nurse for the Red Cross, her understanding father would have forgiven her choice, but he would never agree to her being the mistress of a Nazi officer as she was now. With this thought, Khanyi couldn’t help but sigh, her heart a tangled mess, truly a situation that was hard to untangle. These troublesome matters could wait to be thought about later.
She looked at Evelyn with her dark eyes, seeing the capable and loyal maid not pressing further, carefully folding the slip of paper with the message and address. This telegram would travel through several major cities in the world, from the imperial capital in Europe, across the ocean to America, and then to South Africa, where it would be received by an uncle working in the Foreign Affairs Bureau, who would forward it to her parents in South African.
The bright moon spans three thousand miles; how can I send my longing? Even with a thousand words, the telegram can only convey a few phrases.
“All is well, do not worry.”
In the afternoon, she practiced her dance as usual, taking off her slightly sweaty shoes. The little dog, “Teddy,” who had been curled up on the floor, immediately woke up, pouncing on her to snatch her ballet shoes, dragging the ribbons in circles.
