AS BERTA STRAPPED A BONNET OVER Lulu’s head, Rin squirmed in her new yellow afternoon dress. The sleeves were too puffy and the bell-shaped skirt too long. She didn’t know how Berta chose what to steal and where to steal it from. There weren’t too many shops in this little town, and apparently all the women’s clothes here had to be imported from bigger cities like “Montreal” and “Toronto.” Or so Berta told her. It was useless information that Rin didn’t care about, but Berta insisted on talking to her.
“If we’re going to travel around, we gotta look like the locals. Rule number one of sneaking around,” Berta had said, once she’d returned to the alley with an armful of these rags.
Rin sneered at the red flower patterns sewn into the fabric. Berta’s dress, brown with gold highlights, didn’t suit her skin tone. And Lulu—even in her white pants and long schoolgirl jacket, she stuck out like a sore thumb, gasping at everything she saw.
Lulu. Rin grunted as the little girl fixed her bonnet. It was too late to send her back to Uma’s laboratory through the Jump. By the time they’d finished arguing, too many people were watching—including a police officer or two. How to explain three “colored” girls appearing out of thin air in the town streets? They quickly fled.
They didn’t have time for any more detours or mishaps. Rin pulled her pouch out of the pocket of her skirt—the one good thing about the dress.
Berta leaned over. “Well, according to the map, it looks like we’re in a town called Fort William,” she said. “Wow—we’re a hop, skip, and a jump away from Minnesota. Look at how close we are to the American border.”
The sound of that country’s name wiped the awed grin from Lulu’s cherubic face. “America? We’re not…” She clasped her hands together. “We’re not going back there, are we?”
She looked truly terrified. Rin and Berta exchanged worried glances. Both girls reached for Lulu at the same time and were startled at the other’s show of concern. Clearing her throat, Rin withdrew her hand.
“Don’t worry.” Berta nudged Lulu with her elbow. “See this symbol? The little oval with a line in the middle going across?”
Rin didn’t know the Greek alphabet, and clearly neither did Berta, because she looked to her for help before grinning at Lulu. John Temple must have relished making things unnecessarily complicated.
“The same symbol’s over here, where we were before.” She pointed to Lagos in West Africa. “And now we gotta go west across to this whole other province. See the symbol that looks like a big Z, right by this narrow little lake?”
“ ‘Lake Winnipeg’?” Lulu read.
“Yep. We gotta get there so we can head down to—”
The other Z was in Central America. A “hop, skip, and a jump” away from El Salvador—Berta’s birthplace.
“What’s wrong?” Rin goaded her, watching her stiffen with a little wicked grin. “Itching to run away?”
Rin felt strangely uncomfortable, even guilty, as the other girl shrank back. Soon Berta lifted her chin in defiance. “Hell no. I ain’t no coward. You’re the one we should be worried about. You haven’t been yourself lately, oh great warrior.”
As Rin silently seethed, she remembered Aisosa and Natame mocking her as she’d recuperated in the village, gazing at her with pitying eyes. How far you’ve fallen, they’d seemed to tell her.
“What if we run into a few nasty bad guys along the way?” Berta packed her rifle inside a leather briefcase. Where she’d stolen that item, Rin would never know. “You sure you can fend anyone off? Didn’t do such a great job against Iris.”
The memory of Iris’s face flashed in her mind’s eye. The heat rushing to her head, Rin grabbed Berta by the collar. The briefcase clattered against the ground.
“I’m still a pretty good killer,” Rin told her in a quiet, deadly tone. “You want a demonstration?”
“Now, that’s enough!” Lulu separated them, spreading her arms out to keep them apart. “No fighting! You’re not supposed to fight on an adventure. Didn’t y’all ever read Treasure Island and other stuff like that?”
Rin and Berta exchanged another glance—this time one of complete bewilderment.
“What?” Rin said.
“Who?” Berta spat out at the same time.
Their cluelessness only seemed to annoy Lulu. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the map and inspected it. “The Jump’s close to a place called Winnipeg. It says here that it’s seven hundred kilometers away!”
“Seven hundred kilometers on foot. That’s a five-day walk,” Rin said.
“A five-day walk?” Berta bristled. “Damn it. Is this really the closest Uma can get us?”
Better than six to seven weeks, Rin thought.
Lulu shrugged. “No use complaining about it,” she said, punching Berta in the arm.
“I guess not—wait a minute, who made you the leader here?” Berta tugged on Lulu’s bonnet. “You shouldn’t even be here, little lady.”
Lulu shrugged, giving the two a sheepish grin.
Rin clucked her tongue in annoyance. She had better things to do than to babysit a child. Now it looked like she’d have to take care of two. Uma should have just sent her alone. As far as she was concerned, the others were dead weight.
This little town was still buzzing with life, and though they’d tried to fit in, their clothes weren’t enough to hide them within the crowd. People still stared at Rin’s and Lulu’s dark skin wherever they went. Children still pointed at Rin’s eyepatch, as though Rin needed to be further reminded of the violence that had taken her right eye.
“They must think you’re a pirate,” Berta said, before receiving Rin’s death stare and immediately shutting her mouth.
Five days was too long to walk. But there were other options. According to the town chatter, this place, Fort William, had just gotten a new train station. And there were tracks heading west.
“You won’t let us on?” Berta complained, after they’d reached a small wooden train station close to the Kaministiquia River on the southern edge of the town.
One of the officials that managed the station sneered at Rin and Lulu. “Here at the Canadian Pacific Railway, we serve…” He chose his words carefully. “Only a select clientele.”
Rin stared at the growing crowds of white men and women in drab-colored suits, dresses, and bowler hats. It was clear what this man meant.
But Berta must have noticed that the man’s expression seemed sterner looking at her two companions. Clearing her throat, she tried again.
“I’d like a ticket.” She twirled her long brown curls with a finger. “These two are just… my maids. I’m visiting my mother in Winnipeg, you see.”
Maids? Rin found it somewhat amusing that when she looked down at Lulu, the slight exasperation on her face matched Rin’s own. Neither of them spoke, because in that moment, the same deep understanding connected the two of them, compelling them to play along despite their annoyance.
For a moment it seemed like the official was considering it. But though Berta’s skin wasn’t as dark as her brother’s, Rin knew she wouldn’t pass for a white woman. Perhaps if she’d come alone and used the right accent, she would have been able to role-play as a “regular” town girl who’d spent far too many days under the sun.
In the end, the official refused them a ticket. But there were other ways.
As the growing crowd waited for the train to come in the worsening heat, Rin spotted a gaggle of women on the outer fringe. Each wore black, wide-rimmed hats adorned with dark flowers and a veil. The veils would be useful.
“Ma’ams, you must come with me,” Lulu told them, grabbing their hands, much to their shock. The women were scandalized. Scandalized but curious. “My mistress is hurt and looking for her mama! Please, you must come with me!”
It was strange how easily the women were separated from the crowd. Lulu had a special quality, Rin admitted, that made people trust her instinctively. Then again, perhaps these women didn’t think the girl possessed the critical acuity to fool them. Either way, they ended up unconscious, bound, gagged, and propped up against some trees behind the train station, their hats stolen. The veils would help cover dark skin and a missing eye, so long as Rin kept her head down.
“That felt oddly satisfying,” Berta said, emerging from behind the station with freshly pilfered tickets in hand. “Beating up the rich always does.”
“How uncouth,” Rin replied, though she didn’t exactly disagree. The two girls exchanged devilish conspiratorial grins before snickering into their hands, just in time for the train to roll in.
Westward to Winnipeg. Each car, though a metal lump from the outside, was a veritable hotel on the inside. They were fit for sleeping, with beds and places to hang one’s coat. There were dining cars and even cars to smoke in.
Lulu cooed, but Rin reminded her to keep her head down. The only people who looked like them were the porters who stowed baggage, shined shoes, and ushered passengers to their seats.
“Be careful with that,” Berta said quickly to one of them, as the porter took her briefcase and showed them to where their tickets had seated them. Berta lowered her veil with a nervous laugh while Rin and Lulu kept their heads down. Something told Rin it wasn’t enough. The porter’s eyes lingered on the two of them, but he kept silent nonetheless, shutting the sliding door to their car behind him.
The berths were wide and covered in white cloth, but not in the least comfortable, not with the train rumbling along rickety tracks. Half a day. They had half a day to rest and prepare for what horrors faced them. Lulu spent far too long talking about all the books she’d read: Treasure Island. The Mysterious Island. Around the World in Eighty Days. The Prince and the Pauper. She’d fight over them with her brother.
“I never knew adventures could be real, but now here I am, flying around the world.” Lulu looked out the oval window. “Though I didn’t think I’d ever have to leave home in the first place.” Her brown doe eyes dimmed a little in the reflection of the glass.
Rin shifted awkwardly when the desire to comfort the child overwhelmed her. But with that compulsion came a bitterness she didn’t quite understand.
She pictured herself, a kidnapped Yoruba girl training with other servants and slaves in the Abomey compound. Learning to kill with a spear in her hand. No one had been there to comfort her in those days. No one was here to comfort her now.
“Iris…” Rin was surprised with herself that she let that name slip from her lips. She covered her mouth and quickly looked up at the other two sitting across from her. She caught Berta’s pitying, guilty glance, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Miss Rin,” Lulu said quietly from across the little square wooden table that separated them. “Is Miss Iris really an angel?”
Berta had her feet up on the seat and her arm cushioning her head against the wall. But she watched Rin, waiting for her answer.
“No,” Rin finally said. “She’s just a person.”
Or at least she’d wanted to be.
Lulu nodded. “I thought so,” she replied, and looked back out the window. “She was so nice when I first met her. So brave and strong. But my pastor taught me that angels were righteous. They always know what to do. Miss Iris wasn’t like that. Always seemed to me like she was running from something.” She glanced at Berta. “What do you think?”
“Me?” Berta stubbornly shut her eyes. “What do you want me to say? Not like I knew her. But…” She paused. “She reunited me with my brother. She couldn’t have been that bad.”
“And yet your brother killed her nonetheless,” Rin snarled. Seeing the girl lounging around, speaking so comfortably about Iris, angered her in ways she couldn’t express. She couldn’t cause a scene here without drawing attention to the three of them, but she clenched her fists anyway, ready to fight.
A fight Berta didn’t seem interested in. She took her feet off the seat and, after placing them firmly on the ground, leaned over the table. She shut her eyes for a time.
“He did,” Berta said finally, in a solemn tone that surprised Rin. “And he was wrong to do it.” Berta’s eyes glistened a little when she opened them. “I’m sorry, Rin.”
Rin blinked, sitting back in her seat. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting.
“I’ve been thinking.” Berta sat straight in her seat and leaned farther forward, her elbows on the table. “My brother was scared of what she could do. But he didn’t even give her a chance. Maybe if he had, we all could have gotten rid of Hiva together, and Iris would be—” She shook her head with a little laugh. “I don’t know. Somewhere, making babies with that handsome fellow. The one who almost died trying to save her. Max shouldn’t have done it. I’m… I’m so sorry.”
Rin deflated. But not because of the loss of a sister. In taking responsibility, in acknowledging her brother’s crimes, Berta had taken something away from Rin—something she’d needed. Pressing her fingers against her eyepatch, Rin bit her lip and stared at the oak table, wanting to rage but having nothing to rage at.
“I asked my mom once what heaven was like,” Lulu said after a while, breaking the silence. “And she said, ‘Why, darling, it’s probably like a perfect world. So what would a perfect world look like to you?’ You know what I said?”
Berta shook her head. Rin didn’t move.
“ ‘A world where nobody hurts each other.’ ” Lulu gave a little resolute nod. “I thought about it and thought about it. Like, a world where you could be who you wanted, or a world where you could eat as much as you like, or a world where who had money and who didn’t have money didn’t matter. But in the end, it all came down to that: a world where nobody hurt each other.”
“Sounds like a nice place,” Berta whispered.
It did.
The train journeyed on west. Soon the rolling countryside of evergreen trees turned into wide plains. The porter had come in a couple of times to check on them and serve them tea. It was strange. Their disguise wasn’t exactly perfect. And yet the man never pried, never asked any questions or raised any concerns.
The last time he’d come into their car, he told them the train was half an hour from their destination. Before leaving, he gave Lulu a little smile.
“You remind me of my daughter,” he told her before tipping his hat and leaving.
Surely there should be times when it doesn’t matter who you are, Rin thought, sipping her tea. Where we can all just be good to each other.
“Ah, Mrs. Wesley!” When the door slid open again, it was by a large, drunk white man in a smoking jacket. The smell of nicotine wafted off him in plumes. “Why don’t you and your sisters join us in the dining car for some biscuits and—wait a minute!”
And his brown eyes bulged at the sight of them. The “jig,” as Berta would say, was up.
“Isn’t this the Wesleys’ car? Who the blast are you?”
“Oops! Time to go!” Berta grabbed her briefcase from the overhead rack and smashed it against the man’s face.
“You broke my nose!” he cried.
“You broke his nose,” Lulu repeated in awe.
“Better than killing him.” She turned to Rin. “Let’s go.”
“Porters! Police!”
Rin, Berta, and Lulu ran past the man as he began screaming. People were poking their heads out of their cars to see the ruckus, gasping and crying out upon finding the three of them barreling down the narrow halls.
“Thieves!” and “Stowaways!” were among the kinder words they called them.
“There they go! Police! Police!” a redheaded child said, pointing at them before his mother pulled him back inside the car.
Two policemen moved to cut them off, their batons in hand.
“We don’t have time for this!” Berta began reaching inside her briefcase, but Rin put up a hand.
“Watch over Lulu,” she said. “I’ll handle this.”
It had been a while since she’d called her sword, and it felt good. The field of the crystal hilt erupting out of her chest. The smell of fear curling from the police and all who watched them as she pulled its long white crystal blade from her body, cutting through her blouse without a care.
The two policemen were clearly not heroes. When Rin rushed toward them and cut one of their hats in two, it sent them both fleeing in the other direction. But Rin, Berta, and Lulu didn’t get far before more were summoned. The officers crowded around from the front and behind.
One clearly did fancy himself a hero. He ran for Rin with a revolver. “I’ve got you now, you—”
Berta bashed her body into the man’s lifted arm, causing him to shoot one of the cabin walls. People screamed as Berta used her briefcase to knock him out.
“The door!” Berta exclaimed at a shocked Rin, pointing to its golden rim a few feet away at the end of the car.
Rin understood. “Carry Lulu!” she ordered, and while the train bustled onward, she flipped her sword around and rushed the officers, clearing a path. With one hand she pulled open the door to the outside, a gust of wind blowing off her stolen hat and veil. The rolling hills whipped past. It was now or never.
“Jump!” Rin cried. Trusting that the two were behind her, she jumped off the train and rolled down the hill below. A pile of bushes finally stopped her tumbling. She had barely managed to lift her head when Lulu and Berta crashed into her with pained groans.
As the train sped by, disappearing into the distance, Rin dusted off her dress and pulled herself to her feet, while Lulu hollered in excitement and Berta cursed, rubbing her back.
“I guess now we walk,” Rin said, running her fingers through her braids.
Berta collapsed back onto the yellow grass with another groan.