Nafanua

By Crash Froelich

As the last book in the Outlaw Girls series, Nafanua is about the final stage of commitment to Sarangong free of communist rule, the flourishing of a country freed from corrupt oppression and, above and beyond all else, the acceptance of one's self. Where the first two books focused on explosive conflict with the power to menace the world, the last is about devotion in every possible sense.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crash Froelich
• Release date: Jan 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310273797

Crash Froelich

I’m from Kansas City, both of them. My folks lived in Gladstone but the nearest Hospital was Providence, in Kansas.When I was two, we moved to Saint Joseph, Missouri and an apartment across the street from the Krug Park Lily Pond. I’ll be forever grateful to my parents because growing up in that place was magic. The magic lasted until I was in fourth grade, when the family, now including two younger siblings, moved into a split level ranch on the east side of town and the wilds of a partially developed area with woods, creeks, and construction all around.Exploring and baseball took the place of magic. Soon the wildness of the place became tame and well-ordered. So did I. High school was followed by a few frustrating years in college. Restlessness prompted me to join the Army. I traveled the world, drank deeply from the cultures of Germany and Korea, but the magic called to me in a weak voice and stirred me.I graduated with a Master of Science in Applied Mathematics from Missouri University of Science and Technology. Years in aerospace and defense contracting were fulfilling and rewarding, but the magic still whispered its siren song.Finally, after years of struggling, I set the magic free. Stories took shape, guided by characters crafted with care. Characters that live with me always, because they are my children.Children burst from my brain as Zeus gave birth to Athena. Now they live for you, dear reader. Enjoy with my compliments.

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Nafanua

By Crash Froelich

Smashwords Edition

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Crash Froelich

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords License Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgments

This story is dedicated to the warrior goddess in all women who strive to make the world civilized, just and peaceful.

Misery’s Shadow

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery’s shadow or reflection: the fact that you don’t merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.

--C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed, pt. 1 (1961)

Chapter One

Bert nudged Esther and pointed across the crowded nave with his chin. His eyes focused on a point closer to the choir and toward the left. Irritated by the interruption, she grudgingly turned her attention from the choir and squinted in the direction of her husband’s stare. She fleetingly considered pinching Bert’s arm. A history of disappointment persuaded Esther otherwise. That elbow had become the focus of years of aggravation. Every time he used the inconsiderate signal, her old resentment flared with renewed heat.

What is it? she hissed.

Over there, right on the aisle. It’s that bunch.

Oh? Esther scanned the congregants seated at the near ends of the pews. She leaned forward when she spotted the trio. They were several rows ahead, close enough to see clearly through her bifocals.

The young man sat on the aisle. He was thin and dark. The strangeness of his features was obvious even at this angle. His high cheekbones were accentuated by the gauntness of his face. A suit hung loosely on his scrawny frame, as if it had been tailored for a bigger man. Next to him sat the blonde. Her straight hair fell across her shoulders. She wore a dove-colored, wide-brimmed hat. The accessory made her appear a bit taller than the youngster. Her dress had the subtle sheen of silk and was of pink so pale that one had to look twice to be certain of the color. When the blonde raised a hand to speak confidentially to the young man, Esther saw a long sleeve and an ash glove.

I wonder if her purse and shoes are gray, Esther whispered. Bert couldn’t hear over the voices and organ.

Under a short mop of flaming red hair and next to the blonde sat the youngster’s sister. She wore a black velvet headband tied in a bow. Esther couldn’t see her clothes over the back of the pew because the woman was too short. She’d try to get a look later. Both of them usually dressed nicely in a very conservative, almost quaint, style. Esther remembered she had heard they came from some island country near the Philippines. Things were probably a little backward in that part of the world. Anyway, it wasn’t their manner of dress that monopolized the speculation among her friends.

Bert! Stop it! Esther tugged on her husband’s coat sleeve.

He flinched, checking the faces nearby to see if anyone had noticed him gawping, and sat against the seat back. Red-faced Bert opened his crumpled program and pretended to study it.

The brother and sister were Peter and Kat. She couldn’t remember their family name. It sounded German and they didn’t look at all European. The blonde was Billie something. She looked like any American and spoke without an accent. They had moved into an apartment in the Belle View area some weeks ago. On the Sundays they attended services, no matter what the weather, and they walked to church.

Peter, who got around on crutches, didn’t always come with the women. When he was able to make it, he stuck like glue to Billie. As painfully obvious as was his crush, she responded with sisterly care, nothing more or less.

The girls seemed very close. They unselfconsciously held hands and often touched. No one had ever seen one without the other. That was the extent of their remarkable public behavior. Assistant pastor Gillian Haddad approached them about joining the adult singles group. She got the same polite refusal as did families without fathers. Regular services and Wednesday night prayer meetings encompassed Billie and Kat’s participation in church life. Esther hoped to get to know them better, but the opportunity hadn’t presented itself.

As the last strains of the pipe organ faded, Pastor Strong mounted the pulpit and, lifting his open palms upward, bade the congregants rise for the invocation. Sharing a hymnal with Bert and peering through her eyelashes, she saw that Kat’s dress was emerald green velour with black velvet cuffs and collar. The thought of a Christmas fairy made Esther smile to herself. Peter didn’t stand. Casting her eyes about while singing lyrics from memory, she noticed several men and women also made glances in the girls’ direction. The men’s reasons were as obvious as they were unthinking. Less harmless were the smirks of the fashionable ladies.

Pastor Strong turned the pulpit over to Deacon Jones, who recited the prayer requests for the ill, injured, and infirm. A large number of floral arrangements had been placed in honor of Bessie Reynolds. She passed away last week. Jones made some other announcements. Esther missed most of them. As usual, Bert neglected to bring their offering and she needed to dig out her checkbook and prepare an item. Her ears pricked up at the last notice.

Miss Katrina van Vogt and Miss Willa Bishop have endowed a mission to Sarangong, their homeland in the Sulu Sea. Please stand, Kat and Billie.

With momentary hesitation, the girls stood and shyly smiled for the assembly. Surprisingly, Pastor Strong exchanged waves with them.

Because of their generosity, we can sustain a new mission to the First Baptist Church of Aluala Lagoon. Did I say the name correctly? Good. Candidates are being screened now. Volunteers should call the administrative office or stop by the vestry for further information and applications. We’re having a reception in the multipurpose room after services. Everyone is invited to stop by for coffee and meet Kat and Billie. They’ll answer your questions about Sarangong and the church there. Thank you for sharing your blessings, ladies.

Both girls pressed their hands together in the manner of prayer and bowed their heads. Jones happily returned the gesture. The deacon’s rendition of the traditional Sarangongese sign of respect caused some good-natured chuckling among the elders in the chancel. A buzz rippled through the nave. Kat and Billie sat to a smattering of applause. Bert and Esther pulled astonished faces at one another.

Pastor Strong preached on the sixty-eighth Psalm. Esther wasn’t intimately familiar with the passage and constantly flipped between the verses and the commentary in the back of her Bible. The sermon drew analogies to the Psalm by describing the repression of religion in Sarangong by the communist leaders and the recent liberation, which held the promise of a spiritual flourishing among the people. A clutch of teenagers behind them whispered excitedly about the prospect of spending their summer break on a tropical island.

As was his custom, Pastor Strong ended his sermon with a benediction and an invitation to come to the altar and accept Christ. Amen was followed by a single chord on the organ, at which the congregation rose. Peter hoisted himself up with Billie’s assistance. Before the doxology began, the blonde supported the young man by his arm and spoke the words of each line into his ear so that he could add his voice to the chorus.

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;

Esther was touched by Billie’s considerateness.

Praise Him, all creatures here below;

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;

A gust of emotion misted her eyes.

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

The organist launched into the recessional. A wave of exaltation carried the worshippers from the pews and into the aisles. Taking Bert in tow, Esther tried to maneuver against the stream of bodies. Her husband initially resisted, so she insisted. Bert’s determination to get into the traffic jam leaving the parking lot was as baffling to Esther as it was annoying. All he ever did was complain from the moment the car started until they were parked in their garage.

Before they could get within speaking distance of Kat, Peter, and Billie, Deacon Jones collected them. The elder made a path for them through the crowd and toward the chancel, where he could take them to the reception through the exit behind the choir. Pastor Strong went in the opposite direction to make goodbyes at the church door. The old couple knew the way to the multipurpose room and followed at their own pace, long after the others had escaped. Haste was useless. They knew too many other members to get away without saying a few words to this one and that.

Confidently negotiating the narrow maze of intersecting stairwells and hallways under the church, Bert and Esther arrived at the reception. She released his hand and Bert went straight for the coffee and pastries. Slightly embarrassed, Esther composed herself and joined the klatsch around the girls. Peter sat in a folding chair near the place where Billie stood. A pair of crutches leaned against the wall beside him. His face was drawn with weariness, but he sat without fidgeting. As Esther neared, he met her gaze and smiled.

Hello, Peter. I’m Esther Schott. How are you?

I’m fine, Mrs. Schott, Peter said in halting and heavily accented English. Thank you for asking. How are you?

As well as my doctor can make me, which is pretty good, considering what he has to work with.

He didn’t react to her joke for a moment, while he parsed her words. Then he laughed.

I get it. Me, too.

They both laughed.

Are you in treatment? asked Esther.

Two weeks more therapy, then I’m done.

That’s nice. What will you do after that?

Maybe go home to Sarangong. I don’t know yet. It depends on what other people want. Peter glanced at his sister. I’m only the patient.

Are you enjoying your stay in America?

Oh yes, very much. As long as we’re all together, I’m happy. Especially if it doesn’t snow anymore.

Esther leaned toward Peter and spoke reassuringly. Well, I don’t think we’ll see snow this late in March. Still, you never know. It’s happened before.

She checked on Bert. He finished off a Danish and licked his fingers. Esther decided to forgo introductions for the time being. When he looked in her direction, she frowned and pantomimed washing her hands. Bert nodded and shuffled off to the lavatory. Peter grinned broadly.

That’s my husband, Bert. He’ll be back in a minute.

I understand, Mrs. Schott. I’ve had two women working on me for the past several months. Otherwise I wouldn’t be much better than a wild animal.

And don’t you forget it, mister. Good looks don’t mean a thing if you chew with your mouth open. Kat rubbed her brother’s shoulder and offered her hand to Esther. Hello, I’m Katrina van Vogt, this cutie’s sister.

Peter flushed deeply and smiled sheepishly. Esther took her hand.

I’m Esther Schott. It’s nice to meet you, dear. I’m glad I finally got the chance. The work you’re sponsoring is wonderful.

We have hope. The church at Aluala will be a good place to operate a mission. Our pastor, Samuel Hamame, will help spread the Word across the island. During the dictatorship, his was the largest underground congregation in Sarangong.

The word underground took Esther aback. Were things very bad?

People defied the government for their beliefs. Some were executed. Many more were imprisoned and tortured.

The stark reality of Christians living under deadly persecution hadn’t occurred to Esther. Powerful emotions pulled her features into a frown.

That’s terrible. I had no idea. Such suffering. How very sad.

Kat waved the past away with her hand. That chapter’s closed. There are happy days ahead. Liberation changed everything.

I’m glad you all were able to avoid danger. Was it very difficult?

Kat caught her breath. It was clear that memories had flooded back to her, causing her to pause. Sometimes. We escaped with help from friends in Homeland Defense.

Esther brightened at the words. Really? I don’t pretend to understand what those people do. If they helped you, I’m sure it’s good. You know, I always pray for the President and the men and women who work for him. I ask God to give them the wisdom to do His will. Esther added, That way I don’t have to be so smart about politics.

In the time they had spent chatting, Bert had returned from the bathroom and joined the circle around Billie. Esther thought the blonde was tall. When surrounded by adult men, Billie seemed dainty. Most of the appearance of height was due to her heels and hat. The hem of the coatdress she wore fell below her knees. Even so, her calves and ankles were so shapely that the men’s eyes occasionally strayed to her legs. It struck Esther as funny that, although Billie was no kid, she attracted males of all ages. Her manner was interesting. She was relaxed and composed with the gathering of admirers. Billie didn’t giggle or gush. She acted like a perfect lady, looking the men directly in the eye when she spoke to them.

Moths to a flame, said Kat.

Does this always happen? asked Esther.

Um, not always. Once she wore her sailor suit to the Torpedo Factory and the crowd was much larger.

The three of them had such a good laugh that it drew Billie’s attention.

Don’t you want to share with our new friends, Sweetie?

You’re doing just fine all by yourself, big girl. Petey and I are having a nice talk with Mrs. Schott. Anyway, you’re as good as any native. You know as much about Sarangong as I do.

But look at all the guys who want to hear about our little island home. Billie’s grin turned into a clenched-teeth grimace and she spoke without moving her lips. I might forget something important.

In the concealment of her cool façade, Billie reached a gloved hand behind her and waggled it frantically. Kat interlaced her fingers with Billie’s and stood beside her companion. Arms entwined and pressed against one another for support, the girls entertained the growing throng. Esther kept company with Peter. He seemed satisfied that the men were less enthusiastic about flirting when looking into two pairs of eyes. Esther suspected it must have been a source of great personal distress for Peter when Billie wore her sailor suit to the Torpedo Factory.

The high schoolers, who had been sitting in the pew behind the Schotts, approached the girls from Sarangong. They respectfully took places behind their elders and worked toward the front at every opportunity. Soon they were close enough to join the conversation.

Miss Bishop?

Please, call me Billie.

Billie, I’m Todd Moran. These are my friends: Sarah Brown, Toni Cooper, and Jeff Lloyd. I was wondering, what kind of place is Aloha Lagoon?

Nice to meet you. This is Kat and that’s her brother, Petey. Actually, it’s Aluala Lagoon, Todd. It’s a fishing village on the northern coast of the island.

How many people live there?

About two thousand. Practically everyone is in the fishing business in some way or the other.

Sounds small.

It is, and poor. Things will get better in a hurry. The local fleet is very productive.

What do kids do for fun?

Aluala has some of the best surfing and kite boarding in Sarangong. Good beaches, too. The teens were cheered considerably by the news. There isn’t much in the way of entertainment in Aluala. The seat of the residency, a city called Hihe, is on the other side of the coastal mountains. It’s a big commercial center and has about fifty thousand people. That’s where the folks from Aluala do a lot of their shopping and go to movies and restaurants.

Are you from Aluala?

We’re from Bulo, said Kat. A port city on the east side of the island. That’s probably where most of the missionary work will be done. The place has always had a wild side, going way back before the Revolution.

Bulo is a really big town, maybe a couple hundred thousand, said Billie, and because it’s a port, the people there are generally better off than in other parts of the country.

Mrs. Schott, whispered Peter. I think someone wants to see you.

He pointed and Esther spotted Helen Rosenthal, smiling and beckoning from across the room.

Will you excuse me for a minute, Peter?

I’ll be fine, ma’am.

Chapter Two

Since the topic turned to Sarangong, Esther eagerly absorbed all she could. Helen stood far enough from the gathering to make hearing difficult.

What is it, Helen? Why don’t you join us? The conversation is fascinating.

I’m sure it is, said Helen, her eyes twinkling. When Esther didn’t respond to the encouragement, Helen asked, Did you learn anything interesting?

For pity’s sake, Helen. We aren’t talking about the new mission, are we? Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. I learned that they’re very sweet girls and Peter is a nice boy.

Oh, come on, Esther. You know what I mean.

Esther looked at the crowd on the other side of the room. Bert fetched Peter a cup of coffee and they were talking. By the gestures he made, she knew he was telling Peter about his combat experiences during the pacification of Abu Sayyaf on Mindanao. Kat said something funny and the crowd laughed. The kids seemed particularly taken with them and hung on Billie and Kat’s every word. She had no illusions about the inherent wickedness of gossip, but Esther had been Helen’s friend for over twenty years. Not to mention their social circle, who would be equally nosy.

I honestly couldn’t say, Helen. Take a look. What do you see? Do they look strange to you?

Well, no, not especially. I never knew lesbians to be so careful or modest about their outfits. The blonde has matching hat, gloves, shoes, and purse. Even the Oriental one’s accessories are all black. No jewelry or heavy makeup. They behave correctly, as well.

Yes, very ladylike. You’ll notice they get reactions from the men.

That doesn’t mean much. Almost anything of breeding age can get a rise out of a healthy male.

True, and the pretty ones get more attention. We could be barking up the wrong tree. Maisie Dixon checked the courthouse in Alexandria to see if they’d filed a domestic partnership registration and couldn’t find one.

Helen considered some thought and then said, It’s their age that bothers me. They’re both too old to be single, and I never saw old maids who looked so good.

Maybe their men were killed in all the trouble they’ve had over there. Both of them are wearing rings of some kind. Kat said that Christians were executed and imprisoned by the Communists.

The situation was that bad? Maybe we should invite them to one of our dinner parties. Perhaps they’d open up for us. I’d love to hear their testimonies.

Esther nodded agreement. Why not? Lindy King is having one next month. I’ll give her a call when I get the girls’ vidphone number. What do you think?

That’s a good plan. Helen’s eyes narrowed and she spoke slowly. We could make it a belated welcome to the neighborhood.

Better late than never. Would you like to meet them?

They’re busy. Another time. Besides, George is waiting for me in the car. Helen briefly squeezed Esther’s hand and then spoke over her shoulder as she walked away. I’ll call you later, dear.

All right. Talk to you then.

Esther returned to the gathering and joined Bert and Peter. Bert set up a folding chair for her and brought a cup of coffee.

Has Bert been boring you with his war stories, Peter?

No, ma’am. They’re very interesting.

Yes, Mom. Bert looked at her through his substantial eyebrows. You see, they’re very interesting to other guys.

Esther sighed. If you say so, Dad. Peter, could you give me your vidphone number? I want to invite the girls and you over for dinner some night soon. How would you like that?

I’d like that very much, Mrs. Schott. Thank you.

She found her ancient PDA, created a new contact, and spoke the contact information Peter gave her. Pastor Strong took advantage of a lull in the casual get-together to call an adjournment.

"Thank you all for coming to the reception, making our newcomers welcome, and showing interest in our new mission. I expect some of you young people to speak seriously with your folks about spending the summer break in Sarangong. When we have enough candidates, we’ll have a meeting with the families and our sponsors. Parents tend to ask questions about medical services and sanitation, trivial things compared with snorkeling and surfing, but important nonetheless. Kat and Billie have told me that they can arrange for a briefing by a Homeland Defense officer. There