Part 6 (2/2)

”Manchuria. He was just a boy when the j.a.panese first invaded in '31. But according to his men-at least the ones who speak anything other than that rural mumbo-jumbo-he was born for the fight. Fearless. A natural leader and a brilliant tactician.” He took another long drag on his cigarette. ”The men wors.h.i.+p him. Most Chinese divisions-entire armies, even-survive months at best on the front. Staggering losses. Not Charlie. He has kept his battalion together for five years. Even the j.a.panese fear him.”

”Fear him?” Sunny said in disbelief. ”The j.a.panese?”

Ernst pointed his cigarette at the windowless wall. ”It's so different out there. Once you get beyond the city, the countryside goes on forever. The j.a.panese cannot control Charlie or the other partisans. At most, they can contain them. Even in the regions that the j.a.panese have conquered, they only truly control the points and lines.”

Franz grimaced. ”What are those?”

”Just markings on a map-the cities and the railroads. The j.a.panese cannot police the whole countryside. It's far too vast. All they will ever capture are their precious points and lines.” He snorted. ”And for those, they have killed millions. Millions!”

”Where is Charlie's army based?” Sunny asked.

”We often hunker down in the little village where Shan is now. But Charlie's army has no real base per se. It's the reason for their success. Most of the time, they live behind enemy lines,” Ernst explained. ”They ambush j.a.panese patrols and sabotage the railway, disrupting transport and lines of communication, before retreating back into the forests and mountains. It's a game of cat and mouse-lethal sometimes-but Charlie plays it very well. He is a legend among the partisans.”

Franz turned to Sunny, his face suddenly pale with concern. ”If the j.a.panese learned Charlie is here . . .”

”What's that silly term Simon used to use?” Ernst snapped his fingers. ”Public enemy number one.”

”And we are sheltering him in our hospital,” Franz said quietly. ”Our Jewish hospital. Can you imagine what the n.a.z.is would do if they were to ever find out?”

”The n.a.z.is?” Ernst groaned. ”When it comes to Charlie, those louts should be the least of your concern.”

”On the contrary, Ernst,” Franz said. ”Last year, after you were already gone, the SS tried to persuade the j.a.panese to annihilate us Jews. The n.a.z.is argued that we were a security risk. They almost had the j.a.panese convinced. Certainly the local Kempeitai. If we are caught harbouring a hero of the Chinese army in our hospital, imagine how that would bolster the n.a.z.is' argument.” He turned back to Sunny. ”At the very least, the hospital would be finished.”

Sunny's heart ached for Franz. The weight of the responsibility of running the hospital since Simon's departure had worn her husband down as much as the war itself. Grey hair and crow's feet had appeared almost overnight. He was a changed man, and Sunny longed to see more of the old Franz, the one whose pa.s.sion extended beyond the walls of the hospital.

”This is precisely why refugees cannot partic.i.p.ate in any form of resistance,” Franz continued. ”We cannot afford to give the j.a.panese a reason or excuse to follow through on the n.a.z.is' plans for us.”

”So you agree then, Franz,” Ernst said. ”Charlie must leave the hospital. Premature discharge or not.”

Sunny saw the conflict in her husband's troubled eyes. She wanted to rea.s.sure him somehow, but she shared his torn feelings: it would be best for everyone-except the patient himself-if Charlie left.

Franz ran a hand through his hair. ”Charlie will never reach home alive. Not in his current condition.” He squared his shoulders. ”No. He has to stay. And, Ernst, you must find a way to persuade him.”

Sunny left the hospital an hour later, telling Franz that she was off to the market to gather food and supplies. But this was only part of the truth.

Joey insisted on accompanying her, intending to track down one of his black market contacts who had ”a line” (another phrase he had picked up from Simon) on a fresh supply of ether. Invariably, that meant his contact had stolen the anaesthetic from another woefully undersupplied civilian hospital. The refugee hospital had been victimized by similar thefts, and it sickened Sunny to think that she might be indirectly complicit in such activity. But she couldn't stomach the thought of performing another emergency surgery while a patient stared up at her in ashen-faced agony, or the idea of her husband marginalized to the point of uselessness by a lack of basic medication. So she swallowed her misgivings and reluctantly endorsed Joey's illicit trading.

Outside, the afternoon sun seemed confused about the date. Although it was still only spring, the suns.h.i.+ne beat down upon them as though trying to melt the pavement the way it would at the height of summer. Sweat beaded on Joey's brow, and Sunny could feel her cotton dress becoming damp under her arms and around her neck. The heat intensified the stench of the rotting garbage that had been dumped on the sidewalks and the buckets that pa.s.sed for toilets in the decrepit lane houses.

Once they reached Chusan Road, the smells of espresso and baking came as a welcome relief. As they headed along the ghetto's main street, they pa.s.sed cafes, a newspaper office and a dance hall. The theatre in the middle of the block still performed revues three nights a week in both German and Yiddish.

Sunny felt a surge of pride at the refugees' remarkable resilience. They faced constant, often deadly, threats: overcrowding, disease, starvation and hostility from two world powers. Yet, somehow, the refugees not only persevered but also managed to foster culture, the arts and a sense of community. Sunny, who had never met a German Jew until her first day volunteering at the refugee hospital, found it all quite beautiful. She had grown up largely in the Chinese world, where family meant everything but community mattered little. And while she had never before experienced anything close to the bickering and complaining that seemed normal among the refugees, neither had she ever witnessed such generosity and compa.s.sion between strangers connected only by their religion and language. When Sunny married into this eccentric society, they had accepted her as one of their own, as though she had been born to a kosher butcher in Munich or a cantor in Leipzig. As a Eurasian, Sunny had grown up feeling like a perpetual outsider, never fully accepted by either Shanghailanders or Shanghainese. The sense of belonging she had found among the refugees was unexpected and precious, and it heightened the protectiveness she felt toward them.

Sunny and Joey approached the guard posted at the ghetto's exit, a beanstalk of a man with a yellow rag tied around his rolled-up sleeve. As Chinese citizens, they were exempt from the restrictions imposed on the refugees. The guard gave them only a cursory glance as they bypa.s.sed the queue of Jews waiting to leave the Designated Area.

As they walked away from the ghetto, Joey remarked, ”The hospital doesn't see many Chinese patients.”

”We do from time to time,” Sunny said.

”Not really.”

”You know what the Shanghainese are like, Joey. Most would never go to a hospital in the first place, and those who do choose the Shanghai General or the Country Hospital. Most of the locals are not even aware that we run a hospital.”

Joey stopped. ”Charlie is not a local.”

Sunny slowed, then came to a halt. ”No, I suppose not.”

”He's from Manchuria.”

Sunny turned to face him. ”How do you know that?”

”I recognize him from the newspapers and magazines. He is a hero.”

Sunny lunged toward Joey, then looked around anxiously, confirming that no one was within earshot. ”You cannot tell anyone who he is,” she hissed in a low voice, laying a cautionary hand on his shoulder. ”Do you understand?”

Joey shrank from her touch. ”I would never say anything except to you!” He squinted in indignation. ”I haven't even told Charlie that I recognize him.”

”Of course. I'm sorry, Joey.” But her chest pounded all the same. ”We must prevent word from getting out. His life . . . the hospital . . . everything depends upon us protecting his ident.i.ty.”

”None of the Jewish people will recognize him. And there are only a few Chinese who work at the hospital.”

”What about the cleaning men? Or the coolies who do the carrying and lifting?”

Joey nodded, deep in thought. ”We could cover Charlie's face with a mask like we do during the flu outbreaks.”

”That would only attract more attention,” Sunny said. ”But we should draw the curtains around his bed at all times, and keep the locals away from the ward.”

Joey nodded briskly. ”I will see to it as soon as I return.”

Despite Joey's cooperation, Sunny was shaken by his revelation. If he had recognized Charlie so easily, then others were bound to as well. She was so preoccupied that she almost forgot the primary reason she had left the ghetto with him. ”Joey, why don't I meet you at the market in an hour?” she said, remembering.

His face creased with suspicion. ”Are you going somewhere else now?”

”To Frenchtown. I have to sell something.”

”What?”

Sunny withdrew the bra.s.s watch from her pocket and held it up by its gold chain. ”It was my father's.”

A few months earlier, the idea of p.a.w.ning Kingsley's treasured pocket watch would have been unthinkable. Her father had been murdered by a j.a.panese sailor while trying to defend her from an attack on the street, and Sunny had resisted parting with any of his possessions. Until Franz and Hannah moved in with her, she had not touched his bedroom. Yang, the family's long-time housekeeper, treated the room with equal reverence, entering only to clean and dust. They still kept everything in her father's office as it had always been-from expired vials of insulin to stacks of old journals and the Audubon Society magazines he had prized. But the Adlers were broke. They had already poured their scant savings into maintaining the hospital and received no wages from it. Franz was unaware of the extent of their poverty: Sunny had been hocking her father's possessions for the past two months without telling him. From time to time, she had even accepted money from Jia-Li, who constantly offered it. Sunny hoped the watch would bring a good price; she was ashamed to rely on her friend's charity.

”I'll come with you,” Joey declared.

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